woman in the short skirt kept making the noises, and I pressed Markowitz back into the table, but once he was there I didn't know what to do with him, as if he was suddenly beside the point. Jodi Taylor said, 'I'm sorry we lied to you. I didn't know what else to do and I'm sorry.'
I let go of Markowitz and stepped away from him. I was breathing hard and blinking, but my eyes still felt dry. I said, 'Maybe it hasn't dawned, genius, but when an extortionist turns up dead, they always suspect the extortee.'
Markowitz said, 'Hey, we didn't even know!'
Beldon Stone had not moved. I guess people at his level grab each other all the time. He said, 'The gentleman who was extorting Ms. Taylor is dead?'
'Yes.'
'And his documents?'
'I have them.'
He nodded. 'And what do you want?'
'I don't know.' My head began to ache, and that made me even more angry. I thought I had known why I was coming back, but now I didn't. Maybe I was expecting to find some great evil, but instead there was only a frightened woman and the greedy men around her.
Beldon Stone settled onto the couch beside Jodi Taylor and patted her leg. Reassuring. Fatherly. He reached into his jacket and came out with a slender cigar, looked at it for a moment, then ran it beneath his nose. He neither put it in his mouth nor lit it, but the smell seemed to comfort him. 'I realize you're upset, Mr. Cole, but would you do me the courtesy of telling me if Mr. Rebenack's assertions were correct?'
'Yes.'
'And how do you know this?'
I blinked at him.
He made a small gesture with the cigar. 'You were paid for your services, were you not?'
Sid Markowitz said, 'Goddamn right he was. Three grand.'
Stone made the gesture again. 'Then please tell these people what you found.'
I didn't give them all of it, but I gave them enough. I told them about finding the woman who I believed to be Jodi Taylor's birth mother, and I told them about Leon Williams. As I told it, Jodi Taylor watched me as if she were peering out from a cave. When I finished, she said, 'You found my birth mother?'
'Yes.'
Stone patted her knee again. He was larger and older, and his touch cut her off. He said, 'And no one else knows these things, or suspects?'
'The man responsible for Rebenack's death probably knows, but he's not interested in Jodi Taylor. He probably killed Rebenack because this business with the blackmail put some other crime he's got going in jeopardy.'
Jodi Taylor peered out from the cave again. 'Crime involving my birth mother?'
Beldon Stone patted her knee again, again cutting her off.
I said, 'Are you people crazy? Who cares if Leon Williams was Jodi Taylor's father?'
Beldon Stone looked at me with great empathy. 'Well, certainly none of us, Mr. Cole. But perhaps not everyone is as generous as we.'
The younger guy said, 'Songbird's a solid hit. We're looking at a five-year run and a potential back-end profit exceeding two hundred million dollars.'
Sid Markowitz nodded. 'Fuckin' A.'
Stone said, 'Jodi Taylor has been given a gift that many dream of but few are granted. She's a star.' He patted her knee again, and she stared at the floor. 'Our audience sees her every week, mother to four adorable blond children, wife to a blond Nordic husband. Would that audience accept a person of color in the role?'
'Jesus Christ, Stone.'
'Our series has built its popularity on traditional family values. Our advertisers pay for that popularity and expect us to protect it. We have enemies, Mr. Cole. Every left-wing, ultraliberal reviewer and special interest group has taken shots at this series since the beginning. They make fun of us. They criticize us. They condemn us for portraying a white, middle-class nuclear family in a fragmented multicultural world. Wouldn't they love to learn that our star is not only part African-American, but illegitimate?'
Jodi Taylor sat with her head down, as if she were shrinking away from what he was saying, as if she could just make herself small enough the words would pass by and be gone and her life would continue on its way.
Stone said, 'I regret that you were brought into this matter, Mr. Cole, but considering the way things have worked out, I think some sort of bonus is in order.'
'I didn't come sucking around for a payoff.'
Stone raised an eyebrow. 'No?'
'I have information pertaining to a homicide, and by withholding that information I am violating the law. I don't like that.'
Sid Markowitz said, 'Jesus Christ, Cole, I'm sorry Rebenack died and I'm sorry you feel bad about it. You want an apology? I apologize. The guy was puttin' it to us, all right? He was trying to ruin Jodi Taylor. Who'd Jodi Taylor ever hurt? Huh? Answer me that?'
'Tuck in your shirt, Markowitz. Your ten percent is showing.'
Beldon Stone smiled the fatherly smile at me. 'It seems that everyone is sorry, Mr. Cole. I am certainly sorry that you were brought into this, and I am also sorry that a man has died, even a man such as Mr. Rebenack.'
'Sure.'
He patted Jodi again. 'But now it appears the ball is in your court. If you wish to go to the police, I suppose you can do that.' The pat again. 'We didn't want Jodi hurt.' Leaving it on me, saying do what you do and bring it down on Jodi Taylor. Elvis Cole, Bad Guy. My head was splitting, and it felt like a couple of steel rods had been jammed into my neck.
I said, 'Fuck you.'
Beldon Stone smiled and stood. It was over, and he knew it. I knew it, too. He paused at the door to the motor home and fixed the hawk eyes on Sid Markowitz. The warm, fatherly expression was gone. 'I'm disappointed that you went behind my back, Sid. We'll have to speak about this again.'
Sid Markowitz looked as if he'd just received a positive biopsy. 'You gotta understand, Bel. Hey, we hadda know.'
Beldon Stone stayed with the killer eyes another moment, and then he left, the younger guy and even younger woman after him.
It was quiet in the motor home except for the air conditioner and the generator and the sound of Jodi Taylor crying. They were small sounds, pained and somehow distant.
Sid Markowitz brightened, coming up with the big idea. 'Hey, how 'bout that bonus? You came through. You're playin' it straight. We'll give you a fat bonus. You deserve it.'
I said, 'Sid?'
'Yeah, a bonus. We'll treat ya right. Whaddaya say?'
I shook my head and then I walked out. If I had stayed any longer, I was afraid that I'd kill him.
CHAPTER 18
I t was twenty minutes after six when I left the General-Everett lot, picked up my car from the Shell station, and drove to the Lucky Market on Sunset. The traffic was heavy, with plenty of horn-blowing and fist- shaking, but I drove without a sense of personal involvement, as if I were somehow apart from the world around me. I parked in the Lucky's lot, went inside, and selected two baking potatoes, green onions, a very nice Porterhouse steak, and three six-packs of Falstaff beer. Nothing like a well-balanced meal after a hard day at the
