‘Get to the point.’ I clench a fist and cock my arm ready to throw it. His new-found bravery deserts him. I don’t want to carry out my threat as once I’ve messed up his face a bit, the only leverage I have is pain and despite him being a bawbag, I don’t want to stoop to outright torture.
‘You’ve got to understand. Parts have been getting thinner on the ground for me. All studios wanted was the latest good-looking kid with straight teeth and a wedge-shaped body. Older, more experienced actors like me aren’t getting the parts we used to.’
‘Your point?’
I know what he is going to say, but I have to hear it from his lips. To get the full confession, I’ll need to take it step by step as I need to know who his targets were.
‘I set up secret cameras in a couple of bedrooms. Then I invited a casting director to a couple of my parties. He didn’t sleep with anyone the first time, but the second time he slept with one of the hookers.’
‘And then you blackmailed him so you’d get parts?’
A nod. He doesn’t even have the grace to look shamefaced. ‘This town is built on secrets. I was just slow on the uptake.’
‘Did Candice find out about the video?’
He looks bewildered. ‘Why would she? The casting director didn’t choose her that night. He hooked up with a black chick with an ass like a hippo. Candice was with one of my friends that night.’
‘Do you remember the names of the other hookers you hired that night and where you got them from?’
‘Nah. Never paid that much attention to be honest. We changed them all the time. Candice was the only one we had on more than one occasion.’
‘Did you ever pull this stunt on anyone else?’
‘No need. I got a part that’ll keep me going for a few years… and when this dries up…’
He doesn’t need to finish for me to get his meaning. The whole journey out here has been a waste of time and money. James Weeper isn’t our killer. He is a sordid little sleazeball who’s happy to prey on others in an industry where only the most ruthless survive.
I stand and hold out my hand. ‘Thanks for your information.’
Like the fool he is he rises to his feet and takes my hand. Jerking him towards me, I plant a full power headbutt onto the bridge of his nose. As he goes down, I release his hand and ram my elbow into his mouth with enough force to smash teeth.
I might not agree with torture, but I’ve never seen anything wrong with dispensing a little justice whenever possible.
When he wakes up tomorrow morning he’ll have a pair of black eyes, a busted nose and a ruined mouth. I’ll have to start reading the entertainment section of the papers to see how his studio deals with him.
22
When I arrive back in Casperton, I fire up the Mustang and head straight for Alfonse’s. The traffic is light as I power into town.
I’m about a hundred yards from his door when my cell rings. Looking at it, I see an unfamiliar number.
‘Boulder.’ There are laws against using cell phones while driving, but there are also laws against speeding.
Chief Watson’s voice assaults my ear. ‘How soon can you get to the station?’
‘What’s up?’
‘There have been developments in the murder cases and I want your take on them.’
I screech to a halt outside Alfonse’s house. ‘I’ll be there in ten.’
The Mustang is left running as I dash into the house, tell Alfonse to come with me and turn back towards the car.
I am only in the house for ten seconds, but I don’t miss the auburn hair of the coroner as she lies on the couch wearing one of Alfonse’s polo shirts.
I pull away from the sidewalk before he’s even shut the car door. ‘Some of us have been working.’
‘What can I say? When I told her I was too busy to see her tonight she came round with a casserole.’ Alfonse is a sucker for home cooking and any girl who feeds him will get his full attention. ‘Anyway, it’s twenty after ten and you haven’t even told me where we’re going.’
‘To see the chief, he called just as I arrived to interrupt your lack of application.’
It’s unfair of me to criticise Alfonse’s dedication. I’ve spent most of the day jetting around while he’s been stuck in front of a computer. The anger I feel towards Weeper hasn’t left me yet and like everyone else in the world, I have a habit of lashing out at those closest to me.
Alfonse is too attuned to my moods to let it worry him, although he’ll never take my abuse without fighting back. ‘So what have you done today, Poirot? Cracked the case? Shall I assemble everyone in the drawing room so you can identify the killer?’
My scowl advises him of my progress.
He changes the subject, asking what the chief wanted to see us about.
‘I dunno. He wouldn’t say on the phone and since I was so close to your place, I thought you might as well come along so the three of us can share all our news at once. It’ll save me having to brief you both separately.’
‘I’ve a lot to tell you, so don’t sit there with your mouth hanging open like you’re trying to catch flies.’
23
When we enter the police station we find Lieutenant Farrage and one of his buddies drinking coffee and sharing a joke with the desk sergeant. Their laughter rings around the reception in a way that doesn’t feel right.
Much as I dislike Farrage, I can’t grudge him a break. Emergency service personnel are famed for the grim humour they use to alleviate the horrors they have to deal with. Everyone has to have a release, but I would think even he would know better than to do it front of house.
Chief Watson’s head pokes from his office. ‘Hey! Just for once would you use what’s between your ears and keep your dumb jokes outta the public areas.’
I manage to resist the tempting notion of applauding the chief but it is close. Only the knowledge he is our ally stops me from mocking Farrage.
‘Boulder. In here please.’ His tone has softened a fraction but his anger is still evident. He too knows a worthy ally when he sees one.
‘This is Alfonse Devereaux, my partner.’ I gloss over the fact Alfonse is the real private eye and I do little more than help him out from time to time. Chief Watson doesn’t need to know that just now.
The chief shakes Alfonse’s hand and gets right to business. ‘This Niemeyer case is exploding outwards in a way I never expected. I’ve had Captain Kirrows from Salt Lake City looking at Bourbon A Go Go. Apparently a man matching your description went there yesterday and extracted information from the owner. This man used threats and then assaulted one of the employees. Can you tell me anything about it?’
I tell him everything I left out of my previous report. In detail. How Young was running a number of hookers under the auspices of an escort agency, the ways in which Kira was degrading herself for the paying clients. I even tell him about the way Weeper had blackmailed a casting director to get himself a part in the sitcom he was currently filming.
‘Am I going to get a call from anyone in LA saying you beat up this actor?’
‘You might, but it was self defence. He sicced his bodyguard on me just like Hank Young tried to do.’ I shrug. ‘All’s I did was defend myself.’
‘Really? Because I’d have been tempted to give that douchebag what for.’
‘You could have arrested him for blackmail. I couldn’t do that so I used my own methods.’
I need to move the conversation away from Weeper before the chief realises the actor wouldn’t confess to such a crime without a little coercion from me. ‘You didn’t call me in here to ask me about something we both know all about. What’s developed?’