Lex actually shuddered at the mention of his name.
“He scares me,” he said in a whisper. “I even thought maybe he killed Suzze. Once she knew the truth, I mean, Crisp had warned us. There was too much money at stake. He would kill anyone who got in the way.”
“What makes you so sure he didn’t kill her?”
“He swore to me he didn’t do it.” Lex leaned back. “And how could he? She shot up. That woman investigator, what’s her name?”
“Loren Muse.”
“Right. She said there was no evidence she was murdered. She said all signs point to an overdose.”
“Have you ever seen the videotape of Wire killing Alista Snow?”
“Years ago. Ache and Crisp sat us both down and showed it to us. Wire kept crying that it was an accident, he didn’t mean to push her over the rail, but really, what’s the difference? He killed that poor girl. Two nights later-I’m not making this up-he actually called Suzze to come over. And she did. Suzze thought he was the victim of the press. So blind-but then again she was only sixteen years old. What’s the rest of the world’s excuse? Then he dumped her. Do you know how we hooked up-Suzze and me?”
Myron shook his head.
“It was ten years later at a gala for the Museum of Natural History. Suzze asked me to dance and I swear the only reason she came on to me that night was because she hoped that I could lead her back to Wire. She still pined for him.”
“But she fell for you.”
He managed a smile on that one. “Yes. She did. Really and truly. We were soul mates. I know Suzze loved me. And I loved her. I thought that would be enough. But really, when you stop and think about it, Suzze had already fallen for me. That’s what I meant before. About falling for the music. She fell for his beautiful facade, yes, but she also fell for the music, the lyrics, the meaning. Like with
“I do.”
“They all fell for the gorgeous facade. The whole world, really-we fall for the beauty of the outside. Not a news flash, is it, Myron? We are all shallow. You ever see someone, some guy maybe, and you just
“Lex?”
“Yes.”
“What did you tell Suzze on the phone?”
“The truth.”
“You told her that Gabriel Wire killed Alista Snow?”
“That was part of it, yes.”
“What was the rest of it?”
He shook his head. “I told Suzze the truth, and it killed her. I have a son to protect now.”
“What was the rest of it, Lex?”
“I told her where Gabriel Wire was.”
Myron swallowed. “Where is he, Lex?”
And then the strangest thing happened. Lex stopped crying. He smiled now and looked toward a beanbag by the television. Myron felt his blood go cold.
Lex didn’t speak. He just stared at the beanbag chair. Myron remembered what he had heard as he came up the stairs. Singing.
Gabriel Wire singing.
Myron slid off the stool. He moved toward the beanbag chair. He saw a strange shape in front of it, low down, on the floor maybe. He came closer, turned his gaze to the floor, and now he could see what it was.
A guitar.
Myron spun back toward Lex Ryder. Lex was still smiling.
“I heard him,” Myron said.
“Heard who?”
“Wire. I heard him singing when I was on the stairs.”
“No,” Lex said. “That was me you heard. It’s always been me. That’s what I told Suzze. Gabriel Wire died fifteen years ago.”
30
Downstairs, Win woke up the security guard.
The guard opened his eyes wide. He was tied up with a gag in his mouth. Win smiled at him. “Good evening,” Win said. “I’m going to remove your gag. You will answer my questions and not call for help. If you refuse, I will kill you. Any questions?”
The security guard shook his head.
“Let’s start with an easy one,” Win said. “Where is Evan Crisp?”
“We did meet at the Espy in Melbourne. But that’s the only part of our story that’s true.”
They were back on the bar stools. Suddenly even Myron needed a belt. He poured them both two fingers of Macallan Scotch. Lex stared down into his glass as if it held a secret.
“At the time I’d already released my solo album. It went nowhere. So I started thinking about putting together a band. So I’m in the Espy when Gabriel sauntered in. He was eighteen years old at the time. I was twenty. Gabriel had dropped out of school and been arrested twice for drug possession and another time for assault. But when he walked in the bar, the way every head turned… you know what I mean?”
Myron just nodded, not wanting to interrupt.
“He couldn’t sing a lick. He couldn’t play an instrument. But if a rock group is a movie, I knew that I needed to cast him as front man. We made up the whole story about my playing in the bar and him coming to my rescue. Actually I half stole the story from a scene in a movie.
Again Myron nodded.
“I still meet people who swear they were at the Espy that night. I don’t know if they’re lying to feel important or if they’re just self-delusional. Probably both.”
Myron remembered his own childhood. Every friend of his had claimed to see a “surprise” Springsteen show at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park. Myron had his doubts. He’d gone three times in high school when he heard the rumors, but Bruce never showed.
“Anyway, we became HorsePower, but I wrote every song-every melody, every lyric. We used backing tapes onstage. I taught Gabriel how to carry a tune but for the most part I dubbed over him or studiofied it.”
He stopped now, took a deep sip, seemed lost. To bring him back, Myron asked, “Why?”
“Why what?”
“Why did you need him as a prop?”
“Don’t be daft,” Lex said. “He had the looks. It’s like I told you-Gabriel was the beautiful, poetic, soulful facade. I viewed him as my greatest instrument. And it worked. He loved being the big star, nailing every piece of young ass who crossed his path, making money hand over fist. And I was happy too. Everyone was listening to my music. The entire world.”
“But you never got the credit.”
“So? That’s never mattered much to me. I was about the music. That was all. The fact that the world considers me a second banana… well, the joke is on them, isn’t it?”
Myron guessed that maybe it was.
“I knew,” Lex went on. “That was enough for me. And in a sense, we were indeed a real rock group. I needed Gabriel. Isn’t beauty in a sense its own talent? Successful designers put their dresses on beautiful models. Don’t the