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A uniformed police officer appeared on the screen, the caption listing his name and title. There were several microphones before him as he addressed the issue for the citizens of his city. "Obviously we are very concerned about these allegations of illegal drug use and possibly of unlawful sex acts. Unfortunately we are not able to pursue indictments regarding the drug use, as there is no way to get hold of any concrete evidence. However, we are attempting to locate some of the young ladies who were present at that party that night to determine if any of them were underage or if there were any issues of non-consent involved. If that is the case we will push for a grand jury indictment of any band members or their support staff who were involved and we will request arrest and extradition from whatever jurisdiction they happen to be in when the indictment is handed down."

"Holy shit," Jake said, his mouth wide open now. "Indictments? Can they really do that?"

"Were any of those girls underage?" Pauline asked him. "Or was there any... rape involved."

"They were all willing participants in everything that went on," Jake told her. "They're groupies. Nothing but common sluts who would do anything to get it on with a band member. They have to give blowjobs to the security staff just to get backstage with us."

"That's disgusting," Pauline proclaimed.

Jake shrugged. "I suppose when you come down to it," he said. "Anyway, I'm pretty sure none of them were underage either."

"Pretty sure?"

"They have to get their ID checked in order to be issued a backstage pass. Our security guy is always careful to make sure we have rubbers and that they get used and that the girls don't have weapons and all that. I never actually asked but I wouldn't think he would allow any underage girls to come back."

"Well, if that's the case you should be all right. Especially if he keeps a log of who the passes are issued to. If any underage girls tried to claim they were raped by you or one of the other band members, they would have to prove they were even there. Something they wouldn't likely be able to accomplish if they really weren't there."

"That's a relief," Jake said.

"My guess is that it's all just bluster on the NYPD's part. They get up there and jerk off the reporters and claim they're looking into it, but I imagine they actually have much better things to do with their time." She gave him a stern look. "However, I would be a little more careful if I were you, particularly when a damn reporter is in the room and taking pictures."

He nodded, ashamed. "Yeah," he said. "I think I'll keep that in mind."

Their breakfast came a few minutes later and Jake switched off the television set. When the room service waiter left they began to eat, talking of inconsequential things between bites. Pauline caught him up on family gossip. Jake shared some of his tamer anecdotes about life on the road. It was only when they were finished and the plates were put back in the tray and covered that she asked a serious question.

"How bad are you into the drugs, Jake?" she wanted to know. "No bullshit."

He thought it over for a moment, not completely sure of the answer himself. Finally, he said, "It could become a problem if I don't do something about it."

"It could become a problem?"

"Yeah," he said. "At this point - New York hotel rooms aside - I'm still in control. When we have days off I can go without it. In fact, I like going without it on my days off. But its kind of part of the routine on show nights. You just kind of get swept away by it. I mean, when everyone worships you and you get done with a show and there's cold beer and bonghits and coke just waiting for you, and when you get in the shower someone sends in a bunch of beautiful naked chicks..." He shrugged. "It's kind of hard to say no, you know?"

"Yeah," she said. "I suppose it would be."

"I think once the tour is over things will slow down. I think I have the willpower for that."

She looked doubtful but did not contradict him. Instead, she opened her briefcase and removed a large manila envelope. "Let's talk about your contract then," she said.

"Yes," he said, grateful for the change in subject. "Let's do that."

"I have to say," she told him, "I've only been practicing law for three years but corporate contracts are my specialty. I've read hundreds of them, maybe thousands. And never have I seen one as screwy and one-sided as this thing. There are clauses in here that even the most unethical and sleazy management wouldn't dream of trying to pull off, things that tilt this entire relationship horribly in the record company's favor. Didn't you read this thing before you signed it?"

"Yes," he said. "Most of it anyway. But it's written in lawyer language."

"Why didn't you have a lawyer go over it for you?"

"We didn't think we needed that," he said. "We had Shaver - our agent - who was supposed to be making sure we didn't get screwed."

She gave a sharp, cynical laugh. "He did a good job of making sure he didn't get screwed. He's raking in his portion of your royalties just fine. They take his twenty-one percent off the top before they start deducting your portion for all the recoupables."

Jake shook his head. "That asshole. No wonder he pushed us to sign once he got the royalty rate as high as he could."

"You guys were babes in the woods," she said. "You made the mistake of thinking that anyone gave a shit about you. Now you're going to be paying the price."

"So you're saying that all that stuff Gordon Strong told me is true? They're making us pay for all the coke and booze and crank and all that?"

"You got it," she said. "Expenses related to entertaining the band, it's road crew, and its agents are considered entertainment expenses and are one hundred percent recoupable."

"But we're talking about illegal drugs. How can they justify that on an expense report?"

"I don't know for sure, but my guess would be that they're simply recording each drug purchase as a generic cash transaction for miscellaneous supplies."

"But what about if we ask for an audit of the books? Don't we have the right to do that?"

"Well... that's one of those screwy things I was telling you about. You have the right to demand an audit, but they don't have to grant it."

"They don't have to grant it? Is that legal?"

"Sure it is," she said. "You signed a contract that granted the right of refusal to them." She flipped through her copy of the contract for a moment until she came to a section she had highlighted. "Right here. 'Audit of expenses are done at the sole discretion of National Records. Requests for audit by the undersigned'... that's you... 'will be considered, but National Records reserves exclusive rights and judgment as to the necessity of said audit'." She put the contract back down. "In other words, if they don't think there's a need for an audit of the books, they don't have to grant one. And how often do you think they're going to decide there's a need for an audit?"

"Jesus," he said. "Is there any way out of it?"

"Not that I can see," she said. "Any failure to abide by the terms of the contract is considered a breach. If that happens, they have the right to sue you for any money they could have reasonably expected to make off of you through the terms of the contract. And at the rate you guys are selling records, that would be enough to have them garnisheeing your wages for the rest of your life."

"So we got fucked without lube is what you're saying?"

"With a Louisville Slugger," she confirmed.

He picked up a cigarette from a pack on the table and lit up. Pauline gave him a disapproving look but said nothing.

"Oh well," he sighed. "Live and learn, I guess. At least with the success we're getting with this album we'll be able to negotiate from a position of strength for our next album."