she'd had any fallout from the item in 'Buzz Rush,' and she said, 'Not yet but the day is young.'
'You do know The Bulldog is all over that,' he said.
'I doubt she's the author, whoever The Stinger is, but I'm sure Soleil's lawyer worked her contacts to send me a message.'
He filled her in on his visit from Holly Flanders and Nikki said, 'That's sweet, Rook. Sort of reinforces the faith I keep investing in humanity.'
He said, 'Good, then, because I almost didn't tell you.'
'Why not tell me?'
'You know. I was afraid you might take it funny. A young woman coming to my place at night when I told you I'd be home alone, reading.'
'That is so sweet that you'd think that I'd care.' Nikki turned and left him there to sort that out while she got her manuscript.
Heat used paper clips and Rook used Post-it flags, but both had marked only a few passages in the book as pertinent to the case. And none pointed to direct suspicion of anyone as an agent of the gossip columnist's death. And, importantly, there was no concrete indication of anything untoward in Reed's passing. That was all deftly crafted as sly questions and hints of a bombshell payoff buildup by Cassidy Towne.
The passages they had marked were the same. Mostly they were name mentions of Soleil Gray and episodes in their drunken, druggy courtship. Tales from the movie set told of a sometimes morose Reed Wakefield who, after their romantic breakup, immersed himself deeper into the role of Ben Franklin's bastard child. His passion to escape his own life into the character's, many felt, would lead to an Oscar, even posthumously.
Much of the book was material the public had all known about Wakefield, but with insider detail that only Cassidy could have sourced. She didn't spare the actor any blemishes. One of the more damning, albeit minor, stories was attributed to a former costar of three of his films. The ex-costar and now ex-friend said that, after Reed became convinced he had lobbied the director of Sand Maidens, a sword-and-sandals CGI epic, to re-edit their battle scene for more close-ups of him than Reed, Wakefield not only wrote him off as a friend but took revenge. Photos captured on a cell phone arrived at the costar's wife's office. They were candids of the costar with his hand up the skirt of one of the hot extras at the wrap party. The message written on the back of one of the photos said, 'Don't worry. It ain't love, it's location.'
Both Heat and Rook had made a note to discuss that with each other, and both agreed that, even though the touchy-feely costar ended up divorced, it provided no motive for killing Cassidy Towne, since he had been the one to tell her the story.
The bulk was an anecdotal chronicle of a talented, sensitive actor's hard partying, boozing, snorting, popping, and shooting lifestyle. The conclusion Heat and Rook independently drew from reading the book was that if the final, missing chapter fulfilled the hype, the book would be a blockbuster, but from the material they had read, nothing in these pages seemed explosive enough to warrant the murder of the author to cover it up.
But then again, in the second to last chapter, where the manuscript left off, Reed Wakefield was still alive. Detective Raley, who often cursed his designation as the squad's go-to screener of surveillance video, sealed his fate that morning. While she and Rook followed Ochoa, who had summoned them to Raley's desk, Nikki Heat could see from Raley's expression across the bull pen that he had a righteous freeze on his screen. 'What do you have, Rales?' she said as they formed a semicircle around his desk.
'My last video to screen and I hit it, Detective. Parking garage only gave me legs and feet on the perp. Assailant seemed to run east after the attack, and so I worked that block and the one after. Small electronics retailer on the corner of Ninety-sixth and Broadway had this from a sidewalk pass-by, time coded six minutes after the mugging. Matches the description plus our subject is carrying a thick stack of papers, like the manuscript.'
'Are you going to let me take a look?' asked Heat.
'By all means.' Raley got up from his chair, knocking over one of the three coffee empties on his desk. Nikki came around to look at the freeze frame on his monitor. Rook joined her.
The freeze caught the mugger on a full-face turn to the camera, probably reacting to showing up live on the LED TV screen in the electronics shop window. In spite of the dark hoodie and the aviator sunglasses, there was no mistaking who it was. And further, even in grainy, surveillance-grade black-and-white, the mugger was caught red- handed carrying a stolen half ream of double-spaced manuscript.
'That's bringing it home, Raley.' The detective didn't say anything, just beamed through some bleary eyes. 'I'll give you the pleasure of cutting the warrant. Ochoa?'
'Ready the Roach Coach?'
'Now would be good,' she said. And then when the two left on their assignments, she turned to Rook, unable to suppress a smile. 'Ready for my close-up, Mr. DeMille.'
Chapter Fifteen
Detective Heat knew Soleil Gray had a music video shoot that day because her lawyer had mentioned it the afternoon before when she accused Heat of harassing her client at her places of business. Well, she thought, add one to the list. Nikki looked up the number in her interview notes for Allie over at Rad Dog Records and found out where the video was being shot. The record company assistant said it wasn't on a soundstage but on location and gave Heat all the particulars, including where to park.
Fifteen minutes later, after a short drive south on Twelfth Avenue, Heat and Rook pulled up through the chain-link gate and passed a half dozen paparazzi lurking outside, some leaning on their motorcycles. Nikki flashed her shield at the security rent-a-cop and drove into the parking lot of the USS Intrepid at Pier 86. On the way there, Rook had asked if Heat was afraid Allie might call and tip off Soleil they were coming. 'That would surprise me. I cautioned her not to and told her that this was going to be a felony arrest. I made it clear that if Soleil got tipped off by someone, that person could face charges as an accessory. Allie said not to worry, that she was going to head out for a long lunch and leave her cell phone at her desk. Turned off. She sounded like she'd even cancel her cellular contract.'
Heat had caravanned with the Roach Coach behind her and, behind them, a van carrying a half dozen uniforms in case crowd control became an issue. Nikki had learned early on when she worked the organized crime unit that few planned arrests were routine and that it always paid off to take a quiet moment to stop and visualize what you were walking into and not just posse up and ride. On the outside chance there were any Soleil fans hanging out at this event, the last thing she wanted was to try to stuff a handcuffed double-platinum Grammy nominee into the backseat of her Crown Vic while warding off a swarm of zealous disciples.
They all parked nose-out, poised for a rapid exit. When they got out of their vehicles, each and every one, including Nikki, did the same thing: tilted his or her head far back to look up at the retired navy aircraft carrier looming over them. 'Makes you feel small,' said Raley.
Ochoa, still craning up at the floating museum, asked, 'How tall is that thing, anyway?'
'About six stories,' said Rook. 'And that's just from the wharf height we're on. From the waterline, add another story or two.'
'What's it going to be,' said Heat, 'tour or arrest?'
They filed past the temporary base camp cordoned off for crew parking, portable dressing rooms, and meals. A caterer cooked split chickens on a huge grill, and the autumn air was filled with a mix of generator exhaust and grill smoke. At the top of the main gangway they were greeted by a young woman in a T-shirt and cargo pants, whose laminated ID said she was an assistant director. When Heat identified herself and asked where the shoot was, the AD pointed up toward the flight deck. She raised her walkie-talkie and said, 'I'll tell them you're on your way.'
'Don't,' said Heat. She left a uniform behind just to make sure and to watch the exit.
After they ascended in the elevator, Heat and Rook stepped out onto the flight deck and were met by the playback track of 'Navy Brats' carrying on the breeze from the stern of the flattop. The two of them walked toward the music, and as they came around an A-12 Blackbird, a Cold War spook plane and one of the thirty or so aircraft parked there, they found themselves behind a small army of video crew and its ordnance of props, lighting, miles of cable, and three HD cameras: one on a pedestal; a Steadicam harnessed onto a muscleman with ballet skills; and a
