way she had twisted up her black hair and secured it with a pair of jade sticks. I wondered if I could do that with my hair and almost immediately rejected the idea. My hair was baby fine and so straight it looked like it had been ironed. I’d be shedding jade sticks like a tree sheds leaves in the autumn.
“You want your usual?
“Yeah, and bring my friend a chilled pear saki.”
“Oh, no, I don’t drink at—”
“Are you a cop?” Maslin asked me.
“No.”
“Are you in a courtroom?”
“No, but I’m still technically working,” I said.
“But not as a lawyer.” His eyes gleamed as he worked up his Hollywood scenario. “You’re the spunky girl reporter working with the hard-bitten case who leads you into trouble.”
The journalist then leered at me, and I burst out laughing because it was like being propositioned by a cherub. He looked hurt. I stifled my giggles and gave in. “Okay, I’ll have a saki, and since you’re obviously a regular why don’t you order for us.”
The gleam in his eye was speculative as he studied me. “And your firm is footing the bill?”
“Absolutely.
“All right, then.”
And he proceeded to order a massive amount of sushi. I requested extra ginger, and we happily ate our way through the famous Terra sushi roll (tempura on the outside, all yum on the inside), a California roll, several kinds of tuna, and salmon, eel and octopus. It was delicious. I gave up long before Maslin.
Once we were down to the green tea ice cream he called over the hostess whose name was Kiyumi and asked her about the day Kerrinan had come in for lunch. I didn’t figure we’d get lucky twice in a day, but Kiyumi was the owner’s daughter—the owner was the rotund man behind the bar—so with an eye roll toward her father she said, “Oh, no, I was here. I. Work. All. The. Time.” Her father just gave her an indulgent smile and a jaunty little wave with a wicked sharp little knife.
“Anything unusual happen?” I asked.
She shook her head. “We had that gang of agents in. They weren’t their usual rowdy selves. It was a pretty serious conversation.”
“With an Alfar, right?” I pressed.
“Yes. He seemed very old and stately.”
“And he and Kerrinan spoke.” It felt strange to be asking such leading questions, but the girl wasn’t terribly forthcoming. Probably an asset when you ran a popular restaurant frequented by famous people who value their privacy. She scrunched her face up, and Maslin jumped in.
“Look, Kiyumi, she’s a lawyer trying to help Kerrinan. And I’m not on a story right now. I’ve been hired to help her investigate.”
“But you will write something,” the Japanese girl said.
“Yes. Eventually, but right now I give you my word you aren’t going to see it on the front page.”
“Okay, well, it really wasn’t all that much. There was just a little accident after the old … man said he liked Kerrinan’s work. I think the old one was a little unsteady on his feet. He bumped into the table, and the teapot and cup fell off and broke. They were both scrambling to pick up the pieces—I told them to leave it, I would get it—but they didn’t listen and Kerrinan cut his palm on a shard of china”
It wasn’t much. “And Kerrinan didn’t seem agitated or upset, or like he was on anything?” Maslin asked.
“No. He read a book while he ate.”
“What book?” Maslin asked.
“Why? How is that important to what happened later?” Kiyumi asked.
“It’s not. It’s just interesting,” he answered. “What does an Alfar read? Potboilers? Dickens? Austin? A mystery?”
“It had a spaceship on the cover,” Kiyumi offered. “If there is nothing else…?”
Maslin looked at me. I shrugged. “No, just the check,” he said.
She went off to get our bill. Maslin shook his head. “Science fiction. That’s just a head trip. Ellllves in Spaaaaace,” he intoned in a takeoff on the old Muppet riff of Pigs in Space.
“I guess everybody needs their fantasy,” I said as I looked at the bill and blanched a bit. I dug out my corporate credit card, and a few minutes later we were paying the valet and heading to the next stop.
It was a short drive down Ventura Boulevard to the driving range on Whitsett. The range backed up against the LA River, which was a giant concrete ditch filled with roaring, muddy water heading toward the Pacific. As Maslin and I watched, a hapless bicycle went bobbing past; it was sucked under by the raging water and disappeared. Maslin reacted to my expression.
“Eleven months of the year it’s basically bone-dry. There’s a tiny six-inch channel down at the very bottom that most of the year has a small amount of water trickling through it. Film crews shoot in the ditch all the time. Remember
I nodded and we went through the gate and into the confines of Weddington Golf and Tennis. The entire property was lined with extremely tall green netting designed to keep errant balls from braining runners, walkers, or bikers who might be using the path along the river’s edge or the occasional pedestrian out on Whitsett. Despite the rain there was the sharp swish-
We headed into the office. The man behind the counter was a fit and handsome fifty-something with a deep tan, smile wrinkles around his eyes, and a mane of silver-streaked hair. Introductions were made, and this time Maslin gave me a tiny nod and then hung back. I smiled and got back a blazingly white smile. It looked like Mr. Jim Dann had been taking advantage of all the tooth-whitening salons along Ventura.
“I’m working with the defense team for Kerrinan Ta Shena. We understand he was here on the day of the murder. I was wondering, hoping you might talk to us about that day.”
Dann shrugged. “Sure. Can’t hurt. I mean the guy’s in a world of hurt right now, isn’t he? So what do you want to know?”
“How was his demeanor that day?” I asked.
“Fine. Well, he was a little pissed off.”
“Why?”
“His play was definitely off. He’s a really good golfer, but he was slicing like mad. Makes a guy … well, mad.”
“Any reason for the problem?” Maslin asked.
“He had cut his hand at lunch. It affected his grip.”
“Ah,” I said stupidly. The three of us stood and contemplated each other for a few seconds. Then I said, “I understand there was an altercation as he was leaving.”
“Yeah, those dickheads from Human First. I called the cops. I wanted ’em run off, but the cops told me they had a right to be there as long as they stayed on the sidewalk. Public property, they said. Your tax dollars at work.” The concluding snort gave me all the information I needed about how much Dann thought of that idea.
“Why all the animosity?” Maslin asked.
“Are you from around here?” Dann asked.
“Born and raised,” Maslin said.
“Then you know. California used to be the land of milk and honey, California dreamin’, everybody wants to be a California girl. Then we went broke and became a banana republic.”
“The confrontation. What, exactly, happened?” I stepped in before the conversation could become solely about the deficiencies of life in California between two lifetime residents.
“This guy literally got in Kerrinan’s face and slammed a Bible into his chest. I call that assault. He was ranting about abominations and being contrary to God’s law. I got to hand it to Kerrinan; he kept his cool. He just stepped back out of range—they’re so quick those elves. He even smiled at the man and thanked him for his comments. There were seven or eight of these nut jobs, and they were all yelling about God and the Bible. That’s
