Blue Screen (18 page)

I
NEVER DID
try on the other dress. I bought the one I had tried on, for far more than I should have spent. I tried not to blush while Amber put my credit card through. If Jesse was ill at ease, he concealed it. He leaned on the jamb of the front door while he waited. Amber smiled as she put my dress in a silver garment bag with
Jere Jillian
written across it in lavender script.

“Thanks so much for coming in,” she said. “I hope you have a fabulous night.”

From his spot at the door Jesse said, “Fabulous.”

I glanced back through the big glass window as we left and saw Amber talking with two other saleswomen. Were they laughing? About us? Or was I imagining it?

“I feel like I’ve just been in a porn film,” I said to Jesse as we walked back down Rodeo Drive toward the hotel.

“Kind of fun,” Jesse said.

“Only kind of?”

“Cop understatement,” Jesse said. “It is probably the most fun I’ve ever had.”

“Me too,” I said.

We were quiet for a while.

“I wonder what Amber thought,” I said.

“That’s part of the fun,” Jesse said. “Wondering what she thought.”

“She could see our feet below the dressing-room doors,” I said.

“If she looked,” Jesse said.

“She could see my underpants,” I said.

“Around one ankle, as I recall,” Jesse said.

“That might raise her suspicions,” I said.

“Perhaps,” Jesse said, “we can never shop at Jere Jillian again.”

“I couldn’t afford to go back anyway,” I said.

“Maybe we ought to organize a hobby for ourselves,” Jesse said.

“Having sex in public?” I said.

“Just a thought,” Jesse said.

“If we made a habit of it, it would cease to be special,” I said.

“Good point,” Jesse said.

We crossed Wilshire at the light and went into the hotel lobby.

“What would you like to do about supper?” Jesse said.

“I’d like us to have room service together,” I said.

“Your place or mine,” Jesse said.

“Your room is bound to be neater,” I said.

“Almost certainly,” Jesse said.

We were alone in the elevator.

“You know what I like especially about our, ah, frolic in Jere Jillian? It sort of relaxed everything. Sex was not a moment of intense and ponderous passion.”

“It was not, on the other hand, dispassionate,” Jesse said.

“No. But it was fun. Sex is often fun, and probably should be undertaken sometimes just for that reason.”

“Because it’s fun?” Jesse said.

“Uh-huh.”

The elevator stopped. The doors opened and we got out.

“And you,” Jesse said as we walked down the hall, “a native Bostonian.”

He opened his door and we went in. His room was in fact far neater than mine would ever be.

“Don’t ever rat me out,” I said, “to the Harvard Club.”

C
APTAIN CRONJAGER
went with us to see Gerard Basgall. He and his driver picked us up in a big, black Crown Victoria. Cronjager sat in front. Jesse and I in the back. Cronjager turned sideways in the front seat to talk with us.

“Chance to visit with you,” he said to Jesse. “And it’s nice to do a little fieldwork now and again.”

“Elaine is used to running the show anyway,” Jesse said, “when you’re out of the office.”

Cronjager smiled.

“Or when I’m not,” he said.

The driver laughed. He was a large, pleasant-looking black man with a neat mustache.

Cronjager said, “No need to be laughing at your commanding officer, Clyde.”

“Laughing with you, Captain,” Clyde said. “Laughing with you.”

We parked in front of Gerard’s huge house. Clyde opened the door for Cronjager and came around in time to hold the door for me.

“Want I should come in, Captain,” Clyde said.

“Nope,” Cronjager said. “Wait for us here. Unless you hear me scream. Then you come running.”

“Yessir,” Clyde said and leaned his considerable self against the car.

The same fat guy with a similar flowered shirt opened the front door and gave us the same fish-eyed stare.

“I know you, Blondie,” he said to me. “Who are these guys.”

“Cronjager,” the Captain said and held up his badge.

“A freakin’ captain,” the fat guy said. “First fucking class.”

We sat in the same room that Sol and I had sat in on my last visit. Cronjager sat a little to the side. Gerard was all in white today, looking clean and polished.

“My name’s Cronjager,” the captain said. “Sunny you know. He’s Jesse Stone.”

Gerard nodded and didn’t say anything.

“I’m the chief of police in Paradise, Massachusetts,” Jesse said.

Gerard said, “I’m glad for you, Jesse.”

“We like you for Misty Taylor,” Jesse said.

“You what?”

“We like you for the murder,” Jesse said. “We think you did her.”

“Why do you think that?” Gerard said.

“Your name keeps coming up,” Jesse said.

Gerard smiled.

“Popular guy,” he said.

“We’re checking transportation,” Jesse said. “If you were in Boston any time that matters, we’re going to know it.”

“How many cops you got in Paradise, Massachusetts?” Gerard said.

“Counting school crossing guards?” Jesse said. “Fifteen.”

“Be taking you some time to do that checking, won’t it? What with all them tickets to write,” Gerard said. “All them kids to bust for smoking mary-ju-wanna.”

“We’re getting some help from the state police,” Jesse said.

Gerard nodded.

“Good for you,” Gerard said.

Cronjager was silent. He was watching Jesse. He wanted to see if Jesse was all right. I smiled a little to myself, thinking of how, in at least one area, I could reassure him.

“Here’s how we figure,” Jesse said. “It’s hard to buy a pimp falling for one of his whores, but say you did. Erin wanted to be something more than an upscale hooker. You wanted to help her. So you talked to Perry Kramer, and he put you in touch with Arlo Delaney, who by now was running a film-financing operation. Arlo brings in his cousin, guy named Moon Monaghan, who’s looking for something to do with a lot of cash, and wants to be a movie mogul. And one way or another, Arlo, or you, or both of you find Buddy Bollen, and use the financing you already got to sell Erin to him.”

I was quiet. This was Jesse’s show. With Cronjager in the audience.

“Erin might have even helped persuade somebody,” Jesse said.

Gerard looked thoughtfully at Jesse for a time without speaking.

Then he said, “She fucked all of them. So did Misty.”

“All of them being?”

“Arlo, Buddy, Moon. She’s still fucking Buddy.”

I couldn’t contain myself.

“Moon?” I said.

“Yep. She and Misty. A twosome. Like with Buddy.”

I was struggling with the concept of anyone sleeping with Moon.

“Misty and Erin?” Jesse said. “Both sleeping with Buddy.”

“Yeah,” Gerard said.

“Even after the movies got made.”

“Part of the deal,” Gerard said.

The fat guy leaned on the wall near the French doors. Off to the side, Cronjager sat with his legs crossed. He appeared to be looking at the backs of his hands.

“Talk about the deal,” Jesse said.

Gerard glanced over at the fat man by the French doors.

“Packy,” he said. “Take a walk.”

The fat man nodded and left the room.

“Buddy would take the money from Arlo’s cousin,” Gerard said, “and he’d make the movie and put Erin in it. But they both had to stay with him, and do him whenever he wanted.”

“Both…?”

“Erin and Misty.”

“What if they stopped doing him?” Jesse said.

“End of career,” Gerard said.

“I’m not sure she needs him anymore,” I said.

“Maybe not, but she thinks she does,” Gerard said. “Besides, there’s that baseball thing.”

“She cares about that?” Jesse said.

“She wants to be important,” Gerard said, “for more than tits and ass. She wants to be a female Jackie Robinson.”

Jesse looked at me. I nodded.

“What did Misty get out of it?”

“Money. Erin shared the wealth.”

“Did Misty want to be a contendah?” I said.

“I don’t know,” Gerard said.

“Is Erin straight?” I said.

Gerard looked at me for a moment.

“I ain’t been renting her out to women,” he said.

“You know as well as I do,” I said to Gerard, “that some whores are lesbians.”

“For them it’s strictly business,” Gerard said. “For Erin and Misty it was business and pleasure.”

“They liked the work,” I said.

“Yeah.”

“You’re sure?” I said.

Gerard smiled at me. It was a nasty smile.

“I’m sure,” Gerard said.

“Both of them.”

“Uh-huh.”

“You seem pretty current,” Jesse said, “about Erin.”

“We kept in touch.”

“When’s the last time you saw her?” Jesse said.

Gerard leaned back a little in his chair. The California sunshine flooded into the atrium. Gerard clasped his hands in front of his chin, his elbows on the arms of the chair. He smiled a little. His teeth were bright and perfect. His hair was expensively cut. His skin was smooth and tan. His neck was strong. His hands were manicured. His white shirt was crisp. His white trousers were creased.

“Day before Misty died,” he said.

Cronjager uncrossed his legs and recrossed them the other way. It was nice that he was still so limber. Jesse showed nothing. Showing nothing was one of the things Jesse did best. I felt myself tighten a little in my chair.

“You’d have found it anyway,” Gerard said. “American Airlines, both ways. First class, of course. Limo from the airport.”

“Where’d you stay?” Jesse said.

“Not in Paradise,” Gerard said. “Nice town you got there, Chief. I seen more people in Ralphs market in West LA.”

“So where?” Jesse said.

His voice was quiet in the still room.

“Boston,” Gerard said. “Four Seasons. What’s the difference?”

“Better to know than not know,” Jesse said. “What did you go to see Erin for?”

“Visit,” Gerard said.

“Why?”

“Old times’ sake,” Gerard said. “Remember I told you I love her? I visit every month or so.”

“What did you do while you were there?”

“Same as always,” Gerard said. “We visited.”

“I need more than that,” Jesse said.

“I don’t have more than that,” Gerard said. “I picked her up in the limo, took her to Boston, we visited for a day.”

“At the hotel.”

“Yeah.”

“Buddy know about your visit?”

“Hell no,” Gerard said.

“And then you went home?”

“Yeah, like always,” Gerard said. “Brought her back next day. Came back to LA the day after, noon flight, gets in to LA about three.”

“That would be the day after Misty was killed.”

“I guess,” Gerard said. “I didn’t know it at the time.”

“And now you do,” Jesse said.

Gerard turned his palms up.

“Got nothing to do with me,” he said.

“What limo company?” Jesse said.

“Carey.”

“You have any thoughts on who killed Misty?” Jesse said.

“All I know is, I didn’t.”

“We’ll check this,” Jesse said.

“You would have anyway,” Gerard said.

“Which is why you told us.”

“Exactly,” Gerard said.

W
E GOT NOTHING
else from Gerard, though it wasn’t for lack of trying. And when we finally left, we’d been there at least two hours longer than we needed to be.

“Well,” I said, “he was there.”

“So was Moon,” Jesse said. “And Buddy.”

“And Erin,” I said.

Clyde was driving us down Hilgard past UCLA. Beside him in the front seat, Cronjager was admiring the campus, and maybe the coeds.

“Don’t know the case like you do,” Cronjager said, still looking at the campus. “And, a’course, I’m not a chief of police, but I didn’t hear him tell you anything you can use to nail him.”

“If he needs to be nailed,” I said.

“You think he doesn’t?” Cronjager said.

“He needs to be nailed for being a pimp and a thug,” I said. “But I’m not convinced he did it.”

“Because?” Jesse said.

“Because he doesn’t feel right for it,” I said.

“Woman’s intuition?” Jesse said.

“Woman cop’s intuition,” I said. “The perfect combination.”

“Talk about it a little,” Jesse said.

“You know as well as I do that a lot of what we know isn’t fact. It’s how people look and act when we talk to them. It’s how we feel about the way they sound and what they do with their eyes.”

Jesse nodded.

“We frequently know who the perp is before we can prove it,” he said. “You got any favorites?”

“No,” I said. “But we know one thing.”

“Erin?” Jesse said.

In front of me I saw Cronjager nod his head. Jesse wasn’t looking at him.

“Yes,” I said. “Erin. She knew Gerard was in Boston and didn’t tell us.”

“So what else does she know that she hasn’t told us?” Jesse said.

“When I get home, I’ll ask her,” I said. “Woman to woman.”

“Sisterhood is strong,” Jesse said.

“Do you buy that stuff about her wanting to be a female Jackie Robinson?” Cronjager said.

“Yes,” I said. “I think I do.”

“You seen her play, Jesse?” Cronjager said.

“I’ve seen her hit,” Jesse said.

“Can she make it?” I said.

“Sure. It’s Buddy’s team; he can put her out there and they gotta let her play.”

“But?”

“She’ll be humiliated,” Jesse said. “She can’t generate the bat speed. Unless some nitwit throws her a changeup, she may strike out every time.”

“Thus proving that women can’t in fact play baseball with the men,” I said.

“There may be some who can,” Jesse said. “I don’t know. But it is not Erin.”

“Could those college boys strike her out?” I said.

“Sure. Taft’s got a good program for a Northern school. They were in the College World Series three years ago. Kid’s location may not be precise. I don’t know what they got for a breaking ball. And I don’t know how much movement they get off the fastball. But the kid I saw can throw it by her.”

“Could they strike you out?”

“Now? Sure.”

“When you were playing.”

“Not often,” Jesse said.

The car was quiet. Clyde took us up a hill to Selby Avenue, and left onto Wilshire.

“You got a plan?” Jesse said after a time.

“I’m thinking about one,” I said.

“You want to prove to her she can’t do it?” Jesse said.

“Maybe,” I said.

“Give her less to protect,” Jesse said.

“Soften her up before I question her,” I said.

Jesse smiled at me.

He said, “You are a hard case, Sunny Randall.”

I shrugged.

“If you’re right,” I said, “it’s better she knows it now.”

We went down the corridor of high-rise condos, past the country club. Century City soared in the near distance beyond the club.

“Remember,” Cronjager said from the front seat. “I got an unsolved double homicide out here that your case has something to do with.”

“I’ll keep it in mind,” Jesse said.

We went up the hill toward Beverly Glen. There was no one on the street except a couple of Hispanic gardeners, working out of an ancient maroon pickup, grooming a small front lawn.

“You and Jenn doing anything these days?” Cronjager said.

“Jenn’s doing something,” Jesse said. “But not with me.”

Cronjager nodded, still looking out his side window as if he’d never seen Los Angeles before.

“I heard she’s back east where you are,” Cronjager said.

“Yes.”

“How’s your general health?” Cronjager said.

“I’m not getting drunk very often,” Jesse said.

“Okay, so I can talk in front of Sunny,” Cronjager said.

“Yes.”

“You over Jenn?” Cronjager said.

I felt myself tighten up a little.

“I think so,” Jesse said.

“And you’re sober.”

“Reasonably,” Jesse said.

“I’m glad to see it,” Cronjager said. “You’re a good cop, and a good man. I hated firing you.”

We approached the Beverly Hilton, near where Wilshire and Santa Monica intersect.

“You had no choice, Captain,” Jesse said.

“No,” Cronjager said. “I didn’t.”