“Jane wouldn’t give Lo the details – that was part of the frustration. Jane got drunk and spilled out the whole story, then she just curled up and wouldn’t tell Lauren any more.”
“Can you blame her?” said LeMoyne. “The girl was a hooker. The mother had a golden goose farting into her hand and knew that if Duke found out he had a hooker kid, that would screw the deal. He’s Mr. Wholesome Tits and Ass, a daughter who earned her living on her knees would be bad PR.” Smiling at Milo: “Right?”
“Good story line.”
“It’s my job.” Chuckling, LeMoyne returned to the script.
“So Jane tried to hold Lauren back,” I said. “But Lauren wouldn’t be held back. Made contact with the Dukes and went to see them in Malibu.”
Salander said, “She never gave me the details, but she did say thank God for her computer – she used it to research the Dukes, didn’t need her mother or anyone else ’cause she had technology on her side. She even showed it to me – had this cute little family tree thingie in there – this actual little tree full of apples with people’s names on them.”
Milo said, “Did you notice any of the names?”
“No, she didn’t let me get that close – just wanted me to see the tree, and then brought it back into her room. Like she was proud of it. She said it was a genealogy program; she’d bought it and downloaded it herself.” Salander flinched. “And then when you called and asked about the computer and I realized it was gone… That’s when I started to worry.”
“That maybe someone wanted to get hold of the family data.”
“That and the fact someone had gotten into our place. Then, when I heard about Jane.” Salander bit his lip. “I started thinking: Maybe Lauren had misjudged her mother. Maybe Jane didn’t want Lauren to get too close not because she was worried about getting cut off but because it was dangerous. What if Jane really cared and Lauren was never able to see that?”
Milo stood, paced the space between the bed and the window. “Did Lauren indicate that she’d ever actually made contact with Tony Duke?”
“No,” said Salander. “All I know about is that tree thingie. But he does live in Malibu, right? That humongous place, with all the parties.”
“What else did she tell you that could help me, Andy?”
“That’s it, I promise. After that one time she spilled her guts, she pulled back – just like Jane did with her. Mostly she stayed in her room, in front of that computer.”
“Did she ever talk about other family members? Besides Tony Duke?”
Salander shook his head.
“What about girls she’d worked with?”
“Not that I recall.”
“Michelle Salazar?”
“No.”
“Shawna Yeager?”
“Uh-uh. She never talked about the past. And like I told you the first time, she didn’t have any friends. A real loner.”
“A girl and her computer,” said Milo.
Salander said, “So sad.” Then: “Now what?”
“Have you told anyone besides Mr. LeMoyne about any of this?”
“No.” A glance at LeMoyne. “And all Justin wanted was to write up a treatment and register it-” He stopped. “That could be dangerous, huh? If someone at the Guild saw it and-”
“Oh, please,” said LeMoyne. “No one in the Industry
“Still,” said Milo.
“Fine, fine,” snapped LeMoyne.
Milo turned to Salander. “Andy, I’ll be needing you to repeat everything you’ve told me for a formal statement.”
Salander blanched. “Why?”
“It’s the rules. We’ll do it in a couple of days. Either down at the station or somewhere more private, if you’re straight with me about sticking around. This time.”
“More private,” said Salander. “Definitely more private. Do you think we can move back to Justin’s place? I mean, if Lauren and Jane died because Lauren was Tony Duke’s daughter and I know about it-”
“That’s the point, son,” said Milo. “No one knows you know. If you’re discreet, I don’t see any imminent danger. If you’re not, I can’t promise you anything.”
Salander laughed hollowly.
“Something funny, Andy?”
“I was just thinking. About those times you came into The Cloisters and I served you. It’s really a great job, tending bar. You have the power to make people happy – their moods just kind of fall into your hands. Not just the booze, it’s everything – the listening. I knew you were a cop, someone told me. At first it bothered me. What an ugly world you must live in – I hoped you wouldn’t start talking, didn’t want to soak up all those negative vibes. But you never did. You just sat there and drank – you and that handsome doctor. Neither of you talked, you just drank in silence, then left. I started feeling sorry for you – no offense. Soaking up those vibes yourself. But I also felt good about helping you – not that you had a problem, but you know what I mean. I was in charge, got those beers and shots delivered right on the money and everyone was happy. And now…”
Another laugh. “I’ll be discreet, all right,” said Salander. “I’m the soul of discretion.”
Outside, I said, “No imminent danger?”
“Not if he keeps his mouth shut.”
“No grounds for protective custody?”
“That’s TV crap – LeMoyne’s world. So was my line about Salander being a material witness. The truth is, he and old Justin are free to fly off to Antigua any damn time they please.” He looked back at the Palm Court, cracked his knuckles. “I always knew it was about money, but Tony Duke’s daughter… Talk about high-stakes blackmail.”
I watched the traffic on Washington Boulevard, thinking about things Lauren had told me – that her parents hadn’t been married when she’d been conceived. That they’d “brought me up with lies.” The wall of ice between her and Lyle. The remark to Michelle about her mother “screwing up.”
How early had she sensed something wrong? What had the truth done to her?
Jane had called me in a panic after Lauren had disappeared. Knowing what Lauren was up to, suspecting the five-day absence was more than just another extended weekend. Trying to motivate the police but holding back facts that might’ve helped. Even after Lauren’s death Milo had felt Jane had been less than helpful. I thought back to any hints she might have dropped, came up with only one: “Lauren’s never gotten anything from her father, and maybe that was my fault.”
Guilty – she had to have been tormented. Yet it hadn’t led her to finally open up. Worrying about her own safety. Justifiable fear.
And maybe something else: Lies had been the poisonous glue that held this family together.
“The time line fits,” I said. “Lauren was arrested for prostitution in Reno when she was nineteen, called Lyle for bail money but he turned her down. I always wondered why she phoned him and not Jane, but maybe it was because she still cared what Jane thought. Still, stuck in jail, she might’ve turned to Jane. And maybe Jane came through. But she didn’t give Lauren any of the money she’d collected from Tony Duke because she didn’t think Lauren could handle it. Instead, she tried to reconnect with Lauren. It was a slow process – Lauren had been on the streets for three years, was sitting on a lot of anger, and she continued to hook and strip. But Jane persisted, and some kind of bond must’ve been formed. Because two years later – when Lauren was twenty-one – Jane did give her the money, using the Mel Abbot cover story. You remember how Jane emphasized to us how well Lauren and Mel got along.”
He nodded. “Mel being a nice guy made it easier for Lauren to believe.”
“Shortly after Lauren received the hundred thousand, she set up her investment account, went back to school, got her GED, enrolled in community college, quit working for Gretchen. Maybe all of that was part of a deal with
