I reached for the bag I had placed at my feet and took out the shrink-wrapped prescription bottle. “This is one of Dace’s prescriptions. He believed they put him on Glucotace, along with Antabuse and another drug to reduce his craving for nicotine. I asked Dr. Reed straight out if Dace was taking Glucotace or the placebo. He thought about it briefly and said placebo. Can’t you get these analyzed and find out what they are?”
“Why would we do that? There’s no case.”
“But if the pills turn out to be Glucotace, it would support my argument, wouldn’t it?”
“Tenuous at best.”
“You have a better theory? You even have a suspect? Because I’m offering both.”
“I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m saying I can’t sell this. The DA’s tough. She won’t file if she doesn’t think she’s got something solid under her feet.” I could see him turn the issue over in his mind. “Promise me your access to this information is legitimate.”
“Of course.” I tucked the pills back into my bag.
“No breaking and entering.”
I raised a hand as though swearing an oath.
“You never impersonated an officer.”
“I didn’t impersonate anybody. When I talked to Willard, I said I was a former colleague of Pete’s, which is true. I gave him my business card, so no funny business there.”
He shook his head. “An investigation like this would take months.”
“I understand. Just let me know if anything new develops. That’s all I ask.”
“Sure, but don’t hold your breath.”
34
I didn’t hear from Cheney until the following Tuesday morning. “The Ruger’s registered to a man named Sanford Wray.”
I don’t know what I thought he was going to say but it wasn’t that. “Who’s he?”
“Film producer. He started out as a venture capitalist and he’s been involved with Hollywood for the past six years. He lives in Montebello and commutes when he has a project in the works. Jonah’s been filling in the blanks. Wray’s heavy into charities and he’s on half a dozen boards. Big cheese in town.”
“Does he have a criminal history?”
“Nope. His record’s clean.”
“I never heard of the guy. Does the name mean anything to you?” I found myself pacing in front of my desk, telephone in hand.
Cheney said, “Hollywood moguls aren’t high on my list. The last movie I saw was Dirty Harry, so Clint Eastwood’s it.”
“How does Sanford Wray know Pete?”
“Remains to be seen. We haven’t talked to him.”
“When will you do that?”
“Jonah’s checking to see if he’s in town. Once we track him down, we’ll pay him a visit and have a nice long chat.”
“I’d love to be there when you do.”
Cheney made a sound that said, Not in our lifetime. “We don’t know how he’s going to react. He could barricade himself in the house, break out a window, and shoot at us. We might end up calling in the SWAT team.”
“Or not,” I said. I sat down, hoping to calm myself. I couldn’t tell if I was nervous, anxious, or excited, but my blood pressure was up.
Cheney said, “The explanation might be innocent. The gun was stolen and he wasn’t aware of it, or he knew the gun was gone and he hadn’t reported it. If we brought along a civilian, he could file a complaint.”
“That was just wishful thinking on my part,” I said. “I know I won’t be tagging along. Department policy, public safety, or whatever else you care to cite.”
“Good girl.”
“Will you tell me what he says?”
“Probably. The gist of it at any rate.”
“Not the gist. I want you to swear you’ll remember everything he says and repeat the conversation back to me. Word for word.”
“You got it. Word for word.”
• • •
I couldn’t think what to make of this odd turn of events. I was suddenly facing an information gap. Up pops Sanford Wray and until Cheney filled in the blanks, I had to let go. I returned to the office, happy to be picking up the old routines. No new business yet, but that would take care of itself in due course. I knew William was hard at work on his plans for the two funerals, and I was just about resigned to footing the bill. At least it would be something to occupy my time. I was sitting at my desk in the little bungalow downtown when I heard someone open and close the front door.