“I think there’s danger to the witness,” Candy said.
Roger was aghast. He pointed both thumbs at his own chest. “From me? Danger from me? Who the hell do you think I am?”
“So you deny any knowledge of labor racketeering, payoffs, kickbacks, whatever, in Summit Studios,” Candy said.
“Absolutely,” Roger said. “Categorically. And let me say this, Candy. I resent very much the implication that I might be guilty of complicity. There are libel laws, and I’m going to be talking with our legal people.”
“Sam Felton had to get the money frorn somewhere,” Candy said. “I assume he wasn’t paying out of pocket. Could you put me in touch with your financial officer, Roger? Treasurer, comptroller, whatever you call him here.”
“For God’s sake, I will not. Candy, this has gone far enough. I’ve tried to cooperate, but you are not willing to be reasonable. You come in here and make wild charges and ask for the name of our treasurer.” He looked at me, leaning forward a little. “Spender, what the hell am I going to do with her?”
“It’s not just that you got my name screwed up,” I said, “it’s how you enlisted me in your cause. What are we sensible guys going to do with this silly broad. That’s where you lost me.”
“Geez, I’m bad with names,” Hammond said. “I must have misunderstood, what is your name again?”
“Spenser,” I said. “Like in Edmund.”
“I’m sorry, Spenser. Of course. I don’t mean to get sexist here. I’m just asking you for an opinion. You look like a guy’s been around, Spense. Can’t you talk some sense to her?”
“Not my job,” I said. “If I were you though, I’d take her seriously.”
“I’ll take her seriously,” Hammond said. “I’ll take you both seriously when you give me some evidence besides a goddamn ghost witness. Do you have any?”
“I have enough to make me look for more,” Candy said.
“To go fishing, you mean. If you had anything, you wouldn’t be here.”
“But there is some,” Candy said. “I just haven’t dug it up yet, is that what you’re saying?”
“Don’t put words in my mouth, you bitch,” Hammond said.
“Roger,” I said. “I signed the standard bodyguard’s contract, you know, to protect her against sticks and stones and broken bones. I’m not sure names are covered. My inclination, however, is to interpret the contract loosely.”
“Spense, are you threatening me?”
“I guess so, Rog. I guess I’m saying you shouldn’t call her names, or I will tie a knot in your Ralph Lauren jeans.”
Hammond half rose with his hands flat on the desktop. He leaned forward, carrying his weight on his stiff arms, and said, “That’s it. This interview is at an end. And I fully intend to let the station manager and ICNBS know just what kind of totally unprofessional job was done here today.”
“His name is Wendall B. Tracey,” Candy said.
“I know his name,” Hammond said.
We were all on our feet now. Candy opened the aoor. We went out.
Chapter 6
AS WE WALKED back toward the car, Candy said, “Want a drink at the commissary?”
“Is there a chance I’ll see Vera Hruba Ralston?”
“No.”
“Well, I’ll go anyway. Maybe we’ll see a clue there.” We walked across an open area, past a sound stage and two buildings that looked like barracks, and there was the commissary. It was a pale low stucco building with a small flagstone veranda across the front, facint; inward onto a small lawn among the buildings. Inside was a high ceiling, and around the walls, in living Technicolor, were painted a bunch of mythologicallooking women with harps and such.
“The nine Muses?” I said to Candy.
“Could be,” Candy said. “I didn’t know there were nine.”
“Same as a baseball team,” I said.
“I could use a drink,” Candy said. “What would be good. How about a margarita?”
“Salt may hurt.”
“You’re right. I’ll have a martini.” I had a beer.
“What do you think?” Candy said after she’d sipped at the martini. At the table next to us people I vaguely recognized were having drinks and sandwiches and laughing often. The cast of a television show, but I couldn’t remember which.
“I think Roger’s lying.”
“Why?”
“Well,” I drank some beer and watched a starlet in a very tight dress sit down at a table to my right. She showed a lot of thigh as she slid into the chair. I’d seen her in a movie somewhere. A Western.
