had never heard of him. In their apartment she went through his desk looking for, and not finding, a copy of the recording company contract he claimed to have signed. She confronted him the next day. He flew into a rage, refusing to explain why he’d lied to her or where the extra money was coming from. Warned her not to meddle in his private business.
“You don’t have any idea how much he had or was getting?” Fallon asked.
“No, but it had to be a lot from the way he was spending at first. Thousands.”
“More coming in over a period of time?”
“Yes. I think so.”
Spicer’s mystery income wasn’t enough to keep him happy. Not long after the confrontation he underwent another change, back to his Hyde persona with a vengeance. Long absences, verbal abuse when he was home, more heavy drinking, and the bar fight that led to his arrest for aggravated assault. Finally she’d had enough. Told him she wanted a divorce. He shoved her, threw her down on the couch-the closest he’d come to physical violence. Accused her of leaving him for another man. Threatened to “make her pay” if she went through with the divorce.
“That was the last straw,” she said. “I just couldn’t take it anymore. I hired a lawyer and took Kevin and moved out. He found out the new address and kept calling up at all hours, drunk or stoned and yelling obscenities. Then he got his own lawyer and sued for custody. Spite and hate, that’s all it was. He doesn’t give a damn about Kevin.
“I had no trouble getting the divorce, but the custody trial dragged on and on. Court put on a good show, the loving, misunderstood father, all that crap. The judge saw through it and gave me full custody.”
“What was Spicer’s reaction?”
“None at first. He didn’t make a scene or bother me afterward. But he had visitation rights, one weekend a month-there wasn’t anything I could do about that. The first few weekends, he brought Kevin home when he was supposed to. Then the last time he didn’t. He’d packed up and left, without a word to the landlord or anybody else. The police found his car later, abandoned, in El Cajon. If he bought another one, he must have done it under a different name.”
“Or had someone buy it for him,” Fallon said. “What about his friends?”
“He didn’t have any, at least none that I knew about. Just casual acquaintances, almost all of them musicians.” She paused and then said, “Eddie Sparrow.”
“Who’s he?”
“A trumpet player Court worked with once. That’s how Sam Ulbrich managed to trace Court to Las Vegas-Eddie Sparrow.”
Ulbrich had found out that Sparrow was playing with a jazz band at a club off the Vegas Strip, and gone there to interview him. Sparrow told him he’d run into Spicer at a private jam session the weekend before last, but hadn’t talked to him and didn’t know where he was living.
Fallon asked, “The club where Sparrow’s working-what’s it called?”
It took her a little time, but she dredged the name out of her memory. The Hot Licks Club.
“All right. Can you think of anyone Spicer might know in Vegas besides Eddie Sparrow?”
“No.”
“Did he ever take you to Vegas?”
“No.”
“Go there by himself?”
“The trio he was with had a four-week gig there once.”
“When was that?”
“A few years ago.” She paused. “You know, it was right before he came into all that extra money.”
“So the money may have come from some source in Vegas. Did he go back there after that?”
“Not that I know of.”
“Did Ulbrich check with the musicians’ union to find out if Spicer’s working there now?”
“Yes. Court’s union card is still valid, but they wouldn’t give out any information about him.”
Fallon said, “Okay. Now tell me about Kevin.”
“Tell you what? Except for his asthma, he’s just a normal boy.”
“How bad is the asthma? Does he need to see a specialist?”
“No. Any doctor can prescribe his medication.”
“How do you think he reacted to being taken by his father?”
“Scared and bewildered. How else?”
“Would he try to run away if he had the chance?”
“No.”
“You sound pretty sure of that.”
“He’s always been cowed by Court. Afraid of him. If he tried to run and Court caught him… No, he wouldn’t do that.”
Fallon asked about the boy’s interests. Sports, outdoor activities?
“Well, he’s not good at team games. He’s quiet, shy, he doesn’t make friends easily. He’d rather read fantasy books like
“Good with computers?”
“Like all kids these days. But Court knows that. He wouldn’t let Kevin near a computer by himself.”
Fallon nodded. He let a few seconds pass before he said, “This isn’t going to be easy for you, but now I need to know about Banning.”
Her eyes slanted away again; he could see her steeling herself.
“You’re sure you never saw him before that day in the motel?”
“Positive,” she said.
“Never heard his voice before?”
“No. It was deep, growly… I’d remember if I had.”
“What exactly did he say to you on the phone?”
“He’d heard that I was looking for my son and ex-husband, that he knew Court and knew where they were living and he’d tell me for two thousand dollars. Bring the money to Las Vegas and he’d meet me and when I paid him, he’d tell me where to find them.”
“Did he say how he knew Spicer?”
“He said he’d tell me when he saw me.”
“Did he use Sam Ulbrich’s name?”
“No. Why should he?”
“No reason, unless he got your number from Ulbrich.”
“… Are you saying Sam Ulbrich helped set me up?”
“I don’t know Sam Ulbrich.”
“Neither did I, before I hired him. I picked his name out of the phone book. His office isn’t far from where I live.”
“He didn’t have to know you or Spicer to set you up,” Fallon said. “Detectives can be bought off during the course of an investigation.”
“I don’t believe it. He was very professional, he didn’t try to overcharge me or anything like that. For God’s sake, Court isn’t that powerful. He doesn’t have unlimited funds, he can’t corrupt everybody.”
“So we’ll assume Ulbrich’s clean. Let’s get back to Banning. You agreed to his terms, and he told you when and where to meet him.”
“The Rest-a-While Motel, room twenty, at three o’clock Wednesday afternoon.”
Fallon asked where the motel was located. North Las Vegas, she said, on North Rancho Drive. She didn’t remember the exact address. Small, old, nondescript-the cut-rate type of place.
“Was the room reserved in your name?”
“No, Banning said I was to check in and wait for him in number twenty. But I think the clerk may have been expecting me.”
“Oh?”
“I didn’t have to ask for room twenty. As soon as he saw my name on the registration card, he gave me the key.”
