"COD was toxic overdose, ruled accidental," said the medical examiner. "Deceased was a habitual user, a self-medicator. Looked from his history like one of those seesaw cases, you know, took something to bring himself up, then something else to level it off, something else to set him down. Blood work and stomach showed high alcohol, plus toxic amounts of cocaine, amyl nitrate, and Ambien."
"I have the file on its way to my office, but I'm on the road. Is there a notation in yours about the inquest?"
"Yeah, of course. And we all talked about it here, too, so I remember it pretty well from the office buzz. They took a close look, especially after Heath Ledger, to cover all the bases. He was depressive, distraught after his engagement broke off, but gave no hints of suicidal thoughts. They interviewed coworkers, family, even the ex."
"Soleil Gray?"
"Right," said Lauren. "Everyone says the same thing. He was pretty much to himself the final month of shooting his last movie. When it wrapped, he went to the hotel in SoHo, basically, to cocoon and shut out the world."
Nikki thanked her for the crib notes and apologized for being late. "If you want, I could just get your Derek Snow report over the phone."
"Not on your life," said Lauren. "You get your happy ass down here when you're done." And then she left it with a cryptic "I promise to make it worth your while." It was a difficult time to visit the Dragonfly. The staff was clearly shaken by the news of the concierge's murder, but, as one of those small hotels with a casual air but impeccable couth, they soldiered on without letting their high-end guests know anything was amiss. Though nobody could miss the accumulation of expensive flower arrangements filling the area around the concierge desk, no doubt from devoted travelers who mourned Derek Snow.
The manager and night manager, who got called in early for the interview, met Heat and Rook in the bamboo-paneled lounge, which had not yet opened. Both had been on duty during the weeks Reed Wakefield stayed there, up to his death. They confirmed what Lauren had conveyed in her synopsis, and it jibed with what Heat, Rook, and most New Yorkers knew about the tragedy. The actor checked in alone, spent most of the time in his room, leaving only occasionally, like when housekeeping needed to service it, or at night. He came and went alone because it was clear that was what he wanted. He was polite but kept to himself. The only complaint he made was to insist housekeeping re-close his drapes and leave the lights off in his room when they were finished.
The night of his death Wakefield did not go out, nor did he have any visitors. When he didn't answer his door the next day-he had specified 11:30 to 12:30 for his service-the housekeeper let herself in and discovered his body in the bed. She mistakenly assumed he was sleeping and left quietly, but then became concerned, and two hours later was when they discovered that he was dead.
"What was his relationship like with Derek Snow?" When the two managers reacted, Nikki said, "I'm sorry. I know this is a difficult time, but these questions need to be asked."
"I understand," said the manager. "The fact is, Derek was quite popular with all our guests. He was so well suited to the job and had a passion for it. He was naturally friendly, discreet, and masterful at bookings for theater or impossible restaurants."
Nikki asked again, "And was he also popular with Reed Wakefield?"
The night manager, a thin young man with pale skin and a British accent, said, "Truth be told, I don't think Mr. Wakefield availed himself extensively of Derek's services during his stay. That's not to say they didn't pass the greetings of the day, but that might be the extent of it."
"Did Soleil Gray ever visit him?" asked Heat.
"Mr. Wakefield?" The manager looked at the night man, and both shook no.
"Not during that period, as far as we recall," said the night manager.
"Did Soleil Gray ever come to this hotel at all?"
"Oh, yes," said the manager. "She was a frequent visitor to this lounge in particular and for certain parties, as well as being a guest of the hotel from time to time."
"Even though she could almost walk here from her apartment?" said Rook.
"Mr. Rook, the Dragonfly is a destination experience for travelers no matter how far they come." The manager smiled. That wasn't the first time he had said that. Probably not the first time that day.
Heat asked, "What was her relationship like with Derek Snow?"
"Same as everyone's, I suppose," said the manager. He turned to the night manager. "Colin?"
"Absolutely. Quite. Nothing out of the ordinary."
His certainty and exuberance seemed a little heavy-handed for Nikki's taste. So she just went for it. "Were they lovers?"
"No, of course not," said the manager. "That would be a breach of policy. Why do you ask that?"
Nikki directed herself to the night manager. "Because you are hiding something." She paused for effect and watched pink splotches surface on his cheeks. "What is it, then, did they fight? Deal in drugs? Arrange cockfights in her room? You can tell me here, or you can tell me Uptown in a more official setting."
The manager looked at his colleague, whose scalp was showing beads of perspiration through his thinning blond hair. "Colin?"
Colin hesitated and said, "We had a bit of… an incident… involving Miss Gray. You have to understand crossing this line of discretion is very difficult for me."
"We're here for ya, Colly," said Rook. "Let her rip."
Colin withered under his manager's look. "One evening last winter," he began, "Miss Gray was a guest of the hotel and had a lapse in her sobriety. At two-thirty A.M., on my shift, as it happens, she, ah… had to be subdued in the lobby. Derek Snow was still about, and I asked him to help me escort her into her room. In the process, a firearm she had in her handbag discharged, and the bullet grazed Derek's thigh."
"Colin?" said the manager, obviously unhappy.
"I admit, we did not adhere to procedure and report this, but the plea was made by Derek not to make a fuss, and, well…"
"She paid you guys off," said Heat. Not a question.
"In a word, yes."
"And there's no police report of this." Again, Heat didn't have to ask. When Colin shook his head, she said, "How bad was his wound? Doctors are required to report those to the department."
"It was a graze but enough for several stitches. Miss Gray was acquainted with a physician who gave cast physicals for the film industry, and an arrangement was made."
Now that Detective Heat understood the connection between Soleil Gray and Derek Snow, she asked a few more questions, details that satisfied her and allowed her to check later, and ended the meeting. After she got the contact information for Colin, she showed the police rendering of the Texan. "Have you ever seen this man here?"
They both said no. She asked them to think of him in a different context than as a guest, perhaps on someone's security detail. The answer was still no, although the manager kept the picture.
"That's all for now," said Heat, "except a question about one more person. Has Cassidy Towne ever come here?"
"Please," said the manager. "This is the Dragonfly." On the walk back to the car, Rook laughed and said, "Or we can talk to you in a… 'more official setting.' That goes on my list of Heatisms, along with Zoo Lockup and blast matrix."
"I was showing some refinement. After all, it was the Dragonfly."
Rook said, "So the question for me remains, why was Derek calling Soleil Gray the night of Cassidy's murder?"
"Right there with you," said Heat. "And the freak-out reaction from her."
"I don't suppose that's because the concierge couldn't get her the table she wanted at Per Se."