“And you told Daney’s seminary about him.”

“I figured I was doing the Lord’s work. Thanks for the memories, Doc. Time to get back to real life.”

“You said Daney should have thanked you.”

“Damn straight he should’ve. I got Sydney and him meetings with some serious people.”

“To make a film?”

“No, to make Polish sausage, yeah a film. A feature, not TV. Sydney made a big point of that, her attitude was always I was TV so I was low on the food chain. Her project was going to be stars and a substantial shooting budget. The two of them thought they had the greatest story ever told. But who did they come to when they wanted references?”

“Was the story the Kristal Malley murder?” I said.

“Yup,” said Boestling. “Two kids kill another kid and go to jail. Not exactly Titanic.”

“Whose idea was it?”

“Can’t say for sure, but my bet is Daney was your typical delusional jerk and he infected Sydney.” He snickered. “Along with other things.”

“You know for a fact that he gave her the clap?”

“Or it was one of the other five thousand dicks she rode. He’s the one I saw, so I’m putting a face on it- so to speak.” He shrugged. “For all I know it was the other kid’s lawyer, some Latino guy.”

“Lauritz Montez,” I said. “She slept with him, too?”

“For sure.”

“How do you- ”

“When Sydney first started on the case, she did nothing but bad-mouth Montez. Stupid, no experience, an albatross who was going to drag her down. Then, a couple weeks in, she started taking late meetings with him. Lots of late meetings. Working on a joint defense. I bought it until I caught her with that scumbag Daney and finally stopped being the densest moron in the galaxy. The only joint defense going on was when Montez tucked his dick back in his pants.”

I said nothing.

Boestling said, “Just another waltz down memory lane. Now if you- ”

“Did Sydney say anything about the Malley case that you thought was unusual?”

“This is about that? After all these years?” he said. “What’s Daney suspected of?”

“Can’t get into details. Sorry.”

“One-way conversation.”

“Unfortunately.”

“Well, unfortunately for you, all Sydney told me was that her client was a murderous little monster and there was no way she was going to get him off. Seen her recently?”

“I tried to talk to her a few days ago. She got very upset- ”

“And went nuts on you and started screaming, right?”

“Right.”

“Good old Sydney,” he said. “Freaking out was always her technique. In court she was real controlled, but outside, anyone tried to disagree with her she’d just blast out with this wall of Indy 500 noise. At me, the boys, her parents.” He shook his head. “Amazing what I put up with. My second wife was a different story. Mellow, couldn’t be sweeter. Dead in the sack, though. Eventually, I’ll find the right combination.”

He got up and headed back toward his store. I walked with him, pressed for more details about the movie.

“Never saw a script. Never got involved directly. Don’t forget, I was just a TV guy.”

“You were good enough to set up meetings,” I said.

“Exactly.” He scratched his chin. “I did all kinds of stupid things back then. Had a little substance-abuse problem that clouded my judgment. I’m talking to you in the first place because my sponsor says I need to be honest with the world.”

Same thing Nina Balquist had said. How much of what passed for honesty nowadays was atonement?

I said, “I appreciate that.”

“I’m doing it for myself,” said Boestling. “Should’ve been a lot more selfish when it counted.”

I drove to Beverly Hills and caught Lauritz Montez exiting the court building on Burton and Civic Center. The double-wide briefcase he toted dragged at his right shoulder as he headed for the rear parking lot.

“Mr. Montez.”

An eyebrow lifted but he never broke step. I caught up.

“What now?”

“A reliable source tells me you and Sydney had more than a business relationship.”

“And who might that be?”

“Can’t say.”

No answer.

I said, “Tell me about Sydney’s movie ambitions.”

“Why would I know anything about that?”

“Funny,” I said. “You didn’t say ‘what movie?’ ”

We entered the lot and he walked to a ten-year-old gray Corvette, put his case on the ground. “You’re getting annoying.”

“Judge Laskin’s retired but he’s got friends. I’m sure the judiciary and the bar association would be thrilled to know how you comported yourself during a major case.”

“Is that a threat?”

“Heaven forbid,” I said. “Then again, maybe you’d rather file indictment forms in Compton for the next twenty years.”

“You’re a real piece of work,” he said, keeping his voice low. “My money says LAPD has no idea what you’re doing.”

I held out my cell phone. “Speed-dial five.” Which would’ve connected him to my dentist.

He didn’t take it. A Beverly Hills cop drove past us in a brand-new Suburban. One officer, all that curb weight. Gas economy doesn’t mean much in 90210.

I pocketed the phone.

Montez said, “What do you really want?” His voice wavered on the last two words.

“What you know about the movie and anything else you can tell me about Sydney and the Daneys.”

He backed away, positioned himself between the Corvette’s scoop-nose and the parking lot wall.

“The Daneys,” he said, smiling coldly. “Always figured them for your typical Jesus freak hypocrites, and I was right.”

“Right, how?”

“Daney was doing Sydney any way he wanted.”

“How’d you find out?”

“Saw her going down on him in her car. In the parking lot, after dark. Asked her about it the next day and she screamed at me to fuck off and get out of her life.”

“Which parking lot?”

“County jail.”

Same place she’d offered her baby blue BMW for the interview with Jane Hannabee. “High-risk behavior,” I said.

“That was the thrill for Sydney.”

“So Daney broke the eighth commandment,” I said. “What made his wife a hypocrite?”

“C’mon,” said Montez. “She had to know. Sydney and Daney were hooking up all the time, how couldn’t she know?” He worked his lips as if to spit, wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. “She rubbed me the wrong way. Psychobabble-spouting airhead. The only one she cared about was Troy, I couldn’t get her to even talk to Rand. You really care, you reach out to everyone.”

“Why’d you want her involved?”

“Character reference.”

“Why’d she favor Troy?”

“They both did. Because they knew Troy from before,” he said. “He was one of their do-gooder projects at 415 City. Which shows you how effective they were.”

“Rand wasn’t a project.”

“Rand never got into big-time trouble until he met up with Troy, so he never had the benefit of their wise counsel. Not that it would’ve made a difference, like I told you.”

“The script.”

“If you don’t believe there’s a script for everything, you don’t deserve that Ph.D.”

“What happened with the real script?”

“Sydney’s movie? What do you think? Nothing happened. This is L.A.”

“What was the story line?”

“How would I know?”

“Never read it?”

“No way, this was top secret. Don’t even know if there was a script.” He pulled out a remote and disarmed the Corvette’s alarm. Moving around me, he opened the door.

“What was there?”

He didn’t answer.

“Suit yourself,” I said and clicked open my phone.

He said, “All I saw was a summary, okay? A treatment Sydney called it. Only reason I knew about it was I found it in her desk when I was looking for matches.” Tiny smile. “I like to smoke afterward.”

“You and she got it on at the office?”