Gumshoe Gorilla (54 page)

And then there was Skye. Watching everything that was going on, but not saying much. She'd been not saying much for a couple of days now, and I wasn't sure how to change that. I knew that everything would change once she saw those videos, once she met Eddie. And it had. And now I had no idea how to make things right again.

It's funny, in a way. I've got the studio, and my agent, and my publicist, all working to control my image, to control the way that people see me. But they can't control the way that Skye sees me. And she's the only one who matters.

Parker's assistant finished her part of the search. She caught my eye, and then came over to hand me something. It was a small velvet bag, tied up with silver thread.

"I figure I'd better give this to you now," she said. "Things are gonna get kinda crazy in a few minutes, and I might not have another chance to talk to you alone."

I felt the bag. There seemed to be three small objects inside. And it smelled like Christmas spices.

"What is it?"

"A spell," she said, matter of factly. "Just keep it in your pocket and don't open it."

I looked her over, but she seemed to be serious. I don't really believe in all that New Age stuff. But I guess it's the thought that counts.

"What's it do?" I asked.

"It's a truth spell."

"Oh," I said, trying not to sound skeptical. "So I can tell when people are lying?"

She laughed. That weird, musical, and completely out of place laugh of hers.

"No, it's a little more useful than that. This one helps you
tell
the truth. And helps other people to believe it."

"I don't understand."

She glanced over my shoulder. I turned and followed her gaze to Skye, standing by the window.

"When you drop all the roles," Ms. Grey whispered behind me, "when you stop playing this part that you've created for yourself-- Who are you then Charles Rockland?"

"What do you mean by that ?" I started to ask, but when I turned back she was gone. Off talking to Parker, as if we hadn't been in the middle of a conversation.

There was a knock at the door.

"OK," Linda said. "It's showtime. Everybody hit your marks."

Parker and his assistant walked past me into Skye's room. Skye followed them, flashing me the sign for "good luck" before closing the door. Meanwhile, my brothers turned the monitor off and then stepped into the far corner of the room, where they wouldn't be seen from the hallway.

Linda walked over to the door. She looked back at me, waiting for some signal that I was ready. My stomach was all tied up in knots, and I felt like I couldn't breathe. Jesus, I'd thought that stage fright was bad, but it was nothing compared to this. I swallowed hard, forced myself to breathe more slowly, and nodded for her to open the door.

Mother was waiting there, along with the security guard who'd shown her up.

"Charles!" she said, waving her hands and strolling in like the fucking Queen of England. "What took you so long? How dare you tease me with such exciting news and then leave me waiting in the hall!"

While mother came over to kiss me on the cheek, I motioned for the guard to leave, and Linda closed the door.

"So what is this thrilling announcement that you told me about at dinner last night?"

I fought back the desire to shove her away, and gently disentangled myself from her embrace.

"Yes," I said smiling, "about that. I'm afraid that it's all very hush-hush. The studio is insisting that there be no leaks."

"Well my lips are sealed," Mother said, pretending to lock her mouth with a key. "So tell me!"

Linda stepped forward.

"It's not that simple," I said, continuing to smile. "Linda here is with studio security. She's going to have to search you for recording devices before we can discuss this further."

"Search me? Charles, are you out of your..."

"Those are the terms," I said. "The studio was adamant, and I am under contract. If you won't comply, I can't say anything further."

Mom looked cross, but after another minute of huffing and puffing, she gave in. No big surprise there. By now she must have been dying to find out what my secret news was. Linda frisked her most efficiently and found a palm top and a phone, but nothing else that could be used to record our conversation. Linda made sure that they were both turned off, placed them on the end table, and then left the room.

Mother made a big show of straightening her dress and jewelry after the affront.

"Well, now that that's over --What is the big news?"

"Perhaps you'd better come sit down," I said. "This may take a few minutes."

"Of course," she said, following me into the sitting area. "I must say, I would have thought that the studio would give you a bigger room. Have you asked if they could..."

We turned the corner, and she saw the other three standing there. Bernie, Doug, and Eddie. I heard her breathing stop short when she laid eyes on them. Bernie flicked the monitor back on and Albert joined us.

"Hello mother," he said.

She looked around at the five of us. I moved so that I was standing between her and the way back out.

"My goodness," she said, recovering her composure. "It's been a while since we were all together."

She looked around again, studying our faces. She knew that something was up, but she wasn't sure yet.

"So... what's the news?" she said, trying to sound casual.

"The news," I said, "is that we know."

"You know? You know what?"

"We know what you've been doing to me for the past couple of months," Eddie said. "We know you were planning to kill me. And we know why."

His voice cracked a little on the last sentence, but he managed to get it out.

"Kill you?" She laughed. "Eddie what are you talking about?"

"You can drop the act, mom." I said. "My people searched your hotel room while we were at dinner last night."

"They did
what?!
"

"You certainly keep a lot of interesting things in your luggage. I'm guessing that the stun gun was to take care of Eddie. What were you going to do? Just turn up at his hotel room without explanation, and count on him being too surprised to do anything until you'd zapped him? Or did you have something more clever in mind? Anyway, once he was unconscious, you could stage the murder scene any way you like, couldn't you?"

"Charles..."

"I did like the Sheik's outfit. I'm betting that's how you were planning on getting in and out of the hotel without being recognized. Am I right?"

"Charles..."

"But then, I obviously don't know you that well, mother. You see, I would have guessed that you would hire someone else to do this sort of dirty work. But you always did say, 'if you want something done right...'"

"Charles, there's a perfectly good explanation..."

"No mom. There's just one really rotten one. You see, in addition to searching your belongings, my people also bugged your room."

I watched as the realization dawned on her.

"You heard..."

"Everything. We have tapes of you dictating the last blackmail note for Eddie. Putting together the list of talk shows that you wanted to do once the news of his death hit. Oh, and the book proposals.
Eddie Rockland: Troubled Soul
, and
Our Family, Our Faults.
Oh, and my favorite,
Black Sheep: Raising the Troubled Child.
The titles could use a little work. I hope you were planning on using a ghost writer."

"Charles, it's not what..."

"I suppose I should be impressed. Most people wait until after a tragedy to cash in on it. Leave it you to find a way to get a head start. I was a bit surprised to learn that you haven't started negotiating the film rights yet."

"Charles... Boys... all of you, there's been some kind of misunderstanding!"

"Where'd you get the idea mom? Me, I'm betting it was the Stonewall Trial. Week after week of coverage. I can just picture you sitting at home, thinking about all that publicity, just going to waste. Cursing the fact that you weren't related to any of the victims. And then it occurred to you that you have five sons. You could certainly spare one."

She looked around at us. Unconsciously, the four of us had moved to encircle her. I glanced at Albert, up on the monitor. I'd figured that he would do all the talking, but somehow I just couldn't shut up. His face was pale, but he gave me a little nod to continue.

"It's not like that!" Mother shouted. "You don't understand! It's not about me! It's Eddie! He's ruining your careers! Don't you see that! He's going to drag the rest of you down with him. I'm just trying to protect you. To..."

"No mom, you're not," I said. "This is all about
you.
It always has been. You wanted to be the center of attention again. That's why you didn't plan this as a quiet little murder. That's why you came up with this whole crazy set up for the media, trying to make it look like Eddie was killed by some Baptist news mogul. You wanted the scandal. You wanted the coverage. You wanted the attention."

Doug's face had turned red, and he was shaking. Eddie put a hand on his shoulder.

"What are you going to do now?" she asked. "Blackmail me? Threaten to turn me into the police?"

"Oh please, mother," I said, and forced out a surprisingly realistic laugh. "They way you thrive on attention? You'd probably enjoy a trial. All those requests for interviews. Your big moment on the stand, weeping, as the jury hangs on your every word. And if you have to play the villain rather than the grieving mother like you'd planned-- well hey, it's still a good role. So no mother. We're not going to play that game."

"Then what?"

"Something more direct," I said, looking her in the eye. "If you don't behave yourself, we'll have you killed."

She took a step back from me.

"You're joking."

"No. I'm not. The money has already been set aside. Doug and Bernie and I have been squirreling away cash for a while now in an untraceable account. Our little emergency fund. Anyway, we used it to take out a contingent contract on you. If that video footage of Eddie ever surfaces, anywhere, then you will be killed in a very nasty accident that can't possibly be traced back to us. The same holds true if Eddie dies in any way that's remotely interesting to the media."

"You're bluffing."

"No mom. We're not. It's already been done, and there's no way to recall the instructions."

I looked around at my brothers. They were still putting on a strong front, but the facade was starting to crack. I could see Bernie's eyes getting moist.

"And now, if you don't mind," I said. "I really don't care to look at you anymore."

I picked up my cell phone and called Linda.

"We're done here. You can escort my mother out."

Mother regained some of her composure in the few seconds it took Linda to re-enter the room.

"You can't do this Charles!"

"Goodbye Mother," I said, putting a tone of finality to it.

"I'm your mother! I gave you everything. You wouldn't exist without me. You wouldn't..."

I turned my back on her. I'm not sure what Linda did, but mother stopped talking and let out a series of loud grunts as she was dragged from the room.

The door closed, and we each dealt with the situation in our own way. Bernie, Mr. tough guy, broke down and started crying, with Eddie putting an arm around his shoulders to comfort him. Doug started swearing and punching the wall. Albert just hung up the phone and dealt with his pain in private.

And me? I went to talk to Skye.