Hollywood Games: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller Page 4

  “A little above my pay grade. Mr. Biggs…how long…”

  “Just a couple of years. We hadn’t met before the show.” He leaned forward, one hand nervously twisting at a cuff link. “I know there was a lot of what seemed like animosity between us on the show but it wasn’t real.”

  “You got along well with Biggs?” Gluck asked.

  Breen studied my partner for a moment. “If you don’t mind me asking, can you tell me where you bronze?”

  Gluck’s eyes shifted in my direction, his tan cheeks turning scarlet. He looked back at Breen. “A place called Mr. Peabody’s. It’s on La Brea.”

  “Nice. This time of year is dreadful for my skin. If I don’t defoliate and moisturize I’m in a world of trouble. I’ll check it out.” There was more cuff link work as he answered Gluck’s question. “Yes, Jiggy and I had an understanding and we got along fine. He knew that Gloria and I had a role to play.”

  “As in always being in conflict with him?” I asked.

  “Yes. Barry insisted on that.”

  What he’d told us was consistent with what we knew so far, but I was struck by his complete lack of compassion or emotion for what happened to his co-star on the show. “What about Biggs’ friends, associates, girlfriends? Anyone come to mind who might want to harm him?”

  Breen’s phone chirped and he looked at the screen. “I should really take this. Excuse me for just a sec.” He walked away, answering the phone before I could object.

  After he was gone I looked at Gluck, who’d had his head down since Breen had asked about his skin tone. “Mr. Peabody’s. Really?”

  He glanced at me, looked away. “They have a special on Mondays.”

  “Moisturizer Monday?” He nodded and smiled sheepishly. “And just when I thought we’d found common ground,” I added.

  Breen came back into the room with apologizes. “Where were we?”

  “Enemies. People who might have wanted to harm Mr. Biggs.”

  “Oh yes. Well…” His phone chirped again. “I should…”

  “No,” I said. “Our time is just as valuable as yours.”

  He shook his head, his demeanor changing. “Hardly. Do you know that I closed over one hundred million in sales last year?” I had the impression I was now looking at the real Wesley Breen.

  “Do you know I closed several murders last year?” I said, not hiding my irritation. “Put the phone away and answer my question.”

  He put the phone in his pocket. “He had an ex, Leila somebody, who was always after him for money. Then there was also that little snot, Coco. You might start with those two. Other than that I really can’t help you.” He glanced at his phone, back at me. “Is there anything else?”

  “Where were you yesterday afternoon?”

  “Are you serious? You really think I went out and shot that fat…” He sniffed. “I was with clients. You can check with Maggie. She keeps my itinerary.”

  I stood up, pulling Bernie up with me. “I’ve seen Maggie in action. I’m sure she’ll be a big help.” I handed him my card. “Call me if the sudden urge to cooperate hits you.”

  Back in the car I asked Gluck what he thought about Wesley Breen as I pulled away from the curb.

  “He wasn’t much help but there’s nothing, other than the conflict he and Biggs had on the show, to indicate he had a reason to harm him.”

  “Let’s keep him on our list.”

  His brows knitted together. “Did you pick up on something I missed?”

  I shrugged. “Too early to say. Just a certain lack of compassion for our victim.” We stopped at an intersection and I glanced over at him, deciding that I needed to clear the air about something. “I don’t want you to take this the wrong way, but can I ask you something personal.”

  “Of course. We’re partners.”

  I cleared my throat and met his eyes. “Are you gay?”

  “What?”

  “It’s just a question. Like you said, we’re partners. I just need to know.”

  He smoothed a hand over his tie and sniffed. “No. I’m divorced but have a girlfriend, Misty. She works as a weathergirl.”

  I nodded. “There’s no need to be upset. I have a brother’s who’s gay. I just wanted to be sure.”

  “Do I come across as gay?”

  That was a tough one. “Well…it’s just that…” I glanced back at him as I turned on the street where we were supposed to meet Gloria Powers. “…with the bronzing, the contacts, and hair I just thought maybe…” I released a breath. “I’m sorry if I upset you.”

  He hung his head, ran a hand through his highlighted hair, and sighed. “When I left Chicago and moved here I wanted a fresh start. I decided to change everything about myself, including my appearance…”

  “I get it. No need to explain.”

  He lifted his head and studied me. “You aren’t going to start saying that I’m gay, are you?”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. Of course not; and, if you were, I wouldn’t have a problem with it.”

  I thought about my brother, how he’d had a difficult time when he’d first come out. It had taken Robin years and more than a few go-arounds with bigots before he’d found some peace. He was now on tour with a singer, working as her stylist. I regretted bringing the issue up with Gluck.

  We met Gloria Powers at a small house a couple of blocks from the Melrose shopping district. She led us into the backyard because there were about a dozen contractors working on remodeling the property.

  “It’s a flip,” Powers explained about the house as we took seats at a patio table beneath the shade of a magnolia tree. “I picked it up for way under the comps. Thirty days should equal a hundred grand in my purse.”

  The realtor was about my age. She had wavy dark hair, sultry brown eyes highlighted by lots of shadow and liner, and clothes that were probably off the rack—as in Beverly Hills. I was looking at an alphabet soup of designer brands, everything from Chanel to Prada. Her fragrance was Dior, something that I recognized as Poison.

  I had an errant thought about the devil smelling like poison as I began questioning her and she immediately interrupted. “You want my opinion it was somebody Biggs cheated, maybe even a gang member from his past. I’m just surprised it took this long for someone to take care of business.”

  “Any names you’d care to give us?” I asked.

  She shrugged. “There’s an ex and then that bitch of a girlfriend. As for the gang stuff it was before my time, so I can’t help you.”

  “You don’t sound like you’re very fond of the girlfriend.”

  “Coco? She’s a swaggering little tramp but I don’t know that she’s a killer.” She regarded me. “I guess there are some things you’ll just have to find out on your own.”

  “You said it was probably somebody he cheated. What exactly did you mean?”

  “Jiggy Biggs was a swindler, a user who took advantage of people, whether it was in real estate or the music industry. Look for somebody he cheated and you’ll probably find a smoking gun.”

  “We understand that you and Breen had a lot of conflict with Biggs on the show.”

  Her dark eyes were still fixed on me. “I have conflict with lots of people, Detective, but I don’t go around killing them. Biggs was hardly worth the time or effort it took for someone to kill him anyway.”

  “What do you think his death will mean for Hollywood Gold?” Gluck asked.

  My partner’s question irritated me, but to a lesser degree than Gloria Powers had. I’d decided that in the two minutes that we’d talked to the realtor she was someone I intensely disliked. She was a woman on a power trip that involved greed, arrogance, and selfishness, things that often got people into a world of trouble.

  “I talked to Barry this morning,” Powers said. “He’s looking at adding Morgan Fleming to the cast if they can reach agreement on the money.”

  Gluck’s voice pitched up. “Wow. He’s like a mega…” He glanced over at me, probably realizing that I was
n’t happy with him. “…I mean, he’s a big star.”

  “He’s an idiot,” the realtor said. “Way past his prime and in need of some publicity. I just hope he doesn’t ruin the show’s ratings.”

  “Where were you yesterday afternoon?” Gluck asked, maybe trying to make up for his earlier overzealousness. He took the edge off the question by adding, “Just for the record.”

  “Not shooting Jiggy Biggs in the back of his head.”

  The answer annoyed me. “Just answer the question.”

  Her dark eyes swung back over to me. “I don’t have to answer any questions.” She stood up. “Excuse me.”

  “You need to cooperate with us,” I said as Bernie began a low growl, imperceptible to anyone but me.

  “I don’t need to do anything.” She began walking away. “Good day.”

  “How did you know that Biggs was shot in the back of the head?” I called out to her.

  She turned back to me. “If you must know, Barry Steiner told me. And Barry knows everything.” She started to walk away again.

  “You’ll be at the top of our list of suspects unless you want to give us an alibi. I’d hate for the press to find out about that, but it’s your choice.”

  She stopped and came back over to us. “You’re threatening to go to the press?”

  “I’m not threatening anything. I’m just stating facts.”

  She huffed out a breath. “I was with the Prince of Denmark, showing property.” She smiled. “Why don’t you go ask him yourself. I’m sure he’ll take your call.” She stomped away, not bothering to look back at us.

  CHAPTER SIX

  It was late in the day by the time we stopped for a sandwich and then made our way back to Jiggy Biggs’ mansion, where we me up with Pearl Kramer. The retired, one time chief of detectives, had recently come back to work part-time. Kramer was in his mid-sixties, African-American, and had a voice that genuinely sounded like Morgan Freeman, unlike my new partner’s fake baritone. Having him on the case was a big plus, considering I was working the Harvey Gluck handicap.

  I introduced Kramer to my new partner, then ran down what we knew about the case. “We need to find the victim’s cell phone.” I turned to Gluck. “Any word from the carrier?” He shook his head. I looked back at Kramer. “We tossed the house yesterday, but could have missed something. As you can see, the place is huge.”

  Gluck had his phone out and said to me. “Still no call back from Biggs’ girlfriend either.”

  Pearl’s buttery brown eyes regarded me for a moment before his gaze slid over to Gluck, then came back to me. “What do you say Harvey and I take a look downstairs for the phone. It’ll give you some time.” His eyes held on mine for a moment longer, delivering an unspoken message.

  “Thanks, Pearl. You’re the best.”

  I took the break Pearl had given me to go through a bedroom that was adjacent to Jiggy’s upstairs office while they searched the downstairs rooms. Due to time constraints and the size of the house we hadn’t gone through the room last night.

  After I settled Bernie down I looked through the walk-in closet that was as big as my bedroom. Our victim had an expensive wardrobe with dozens of suits, shoes, and ties. There was also a collection of sports memorabilia, along with some autographed basketball jerseys that he apparently wore, rather than displayed.

  After I finished with the closet, I emptied the contents of the nightstand onto the bed. Bernie came over and sniffed the air where the drawer landed, sampling the exotic scents of our victim’s life. Along with assorted odds and ends, I found several bottles of prescription pain medications, everything from Vicodin to Percocet, a package of condoms, and about a dozen pictures of Biggs with women at various sporting events and awards ceremonies. I thought about his girlfriend, Coco, and wondered if Biggs had been cheating on her.

  “What do you think you’re doing?”

  I looked up and saw there was a man standing in the doorway. His bald head scraped the top of the frame and his huge body almost filled up the entire width of the opening. Bernie came up to his feet releasing a menacing growl and his fur lifting.

  “I’m Detective Sexton,” I said, grabbing Bernie’s leash. “Who are you?”

  “Bobby.” He ran a hand over his upper lip and sniffed. “Jiggy was my brother.”

  I nodded, as my gaze slid over his massive body looking for any weapons. I didn’t see anything but decided I needed to get him into neutral territory where there would be some assistance nearby, if needed. “Let’s go downstairs and talk.”

  He didn’t move. “You didn’t have to mess up the place.”

  “I was looking for Jiggy’s cell phone.”

  His mouth rounded and he nodded, before he finally turned and headed downstairs. When we got into the living room I called out to Pearl and Gluck. They came down a hallway from one of the bedrooms and I made introductions. Bernie settled at my feet as Bobby took some time lowering his huge body into one of the chairs across from me. He looked like a monster in a schoolboy’s chair.

  After I gave him some time to settle into the tight-fitting chair, I said, “When did you last…” I stopped, realizing that he was crying. I looked over at Pearl and Gluck, giving him a moment.

  Bobby finally recovered enough to say, “Man, I’d like to find whoever did this and...” There were more tears and he couldn’t go on.

  I waited a beat, then said, “We would all like to find whoever’s responsible. Your brother, when did you last see him?”

  The behemoth told us he was actually Jiggy’s stepbrother, Bobby Webster. He brushed the stream of water from his puffy cheeks and regarded me. “You try calling him?”

  “What?”

  “His phone. Did you try calling my brother’s cell number?”

  I looked at Gluck who shook his head.

  “Let me try his number, see if it rings,” Bobby said. He pulled out his phone. “Just so you know I tried calling him last night around six. It went to voice mail.”

  We waited, listening for a ringtone but heard nothing. I opened the doors to the back yard and said to him, “Try the number again.” He did as instructed. Somewhere in the distance we heard a ringtone.

  “That’s Ma-Man,” Gluck said, referencing the ringtone, and moving over to my side. “It’s one of Jiggy’s biggest hits.”

  After a couple of more calls, Pearl found the phone about twenty yards down the hill from the pool. He brought it into the house, using a tissue in case of prints.

  After working with the phone for a few minutes we found there were seven missed calls from the previous day, two from Bobby, three from people Bobby said were Jiggy’s friends, one from his agent, Casey Ross, and one from Jerry King that was made just after three in the afternoon. The realtor hadn’t left a message, nor had he mentioned that he’d called Jiggy when we’d questioned him last night. It prompted me to ask Bobby about his brother’s relationship with King.

  “They were partners on the show. As far as I know they got along okay.”

  “Any thoughts on who would want to harm Jiggy?” Pearl asked.

  Bobby scratched his scraggly beard. “Na man, none of this makes any sense. I put the word out. If I hear anything I’ll let you know.”

  We asked him about Jiggy’s ex and his girlfriend, Coco. While Bobby said he didn’t like either woman he didn’t think they had a reason to kill his brother.

  “What about Wesley Breen and Gloria Powers?” I asked. “They had their issues with Jiggy on the show.”

  His big shoulders went up and came down. “They was just acting. I don’t think Jig liked Breen but that guy probably couldn’t kill a fly.”

  “And Gloria?”

  He shrugged again, not meeting my eyes. “Bitch of the century but same thing. She ain’t no killer.”

  “What about somebody from the old days when Jiggy was making music?” Gluck asked. “We know that most rappers have enemies. Anyone come to mind?”

  My new partner had surprised me b
y asking a relevant question in a professional way, without using the fake voice.

  “That was all behind Jig. I know ‘cause I worked on some of his music.” He rubbed a big paw over his bald head. “Can’t see anyone hold’n a grudge that long anyways.”

  I gave him my card and asked him to call if he thought of anything worthwhile. I then met up with Pearl and Gluck in the driveway.

  “What do you think?” I asked, huffing out a breath. I was exhausted, running on fumes.

  Pearl answered, “Bobby seemed genuine in his answers. Since he didn’t think it was a gang issue, in my book that leaves sex or money.”

  What he’d said brought the photographs of the women I’d found in the master bedroom to mind. In my exhaustion I’d forgotten all about the pictures and knew I needed to ask Bobby about them. “I just remembered something I forgot to ask him. You two call it a day and I’ll meet you at the station in the morning.”

  As I walked back into the house I thought about what Pearl had said about sex and money. They were two trails that I knew can sometimes lead to murder. The other path was power. I decided to keep that in mind as Bernie sniffed his way back into the residence following a trail of his own.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  Bernie and I got home just after seven. Prissy was at work, but we found Natalie and Mo in the family room. I poured myself a glass of wine, thinking it might help me sleep. Insomnia had been a big problem for me over the last few months and I needed a good night’s sleep to work our case.

  “You wanna tell Kate or should I,” Mo said after I took a seat on the sofa. My heavyset friend was reclining in a chair with a white cloth covering on her face.

  I sipped my wine. “What are you doing?”

  “It’s somethin’ called a skin purge,” Natalie answered for her. “Mo’s detox’n the Botox.”

  “I don’t got no Botox in me,” Mo said from beneath her covering. “My face has never been the same since that snake venom facial I got a few months back. I got this recipe from a witch at that street fair Prissy drug us all to a few weeks back. I threw some stuff she gave me in a blender, along with some brown sugar, avocado, lotus blossoms, and one of them dried newts I got from a Chinese doctor.”