O’Dell turned quiet and plunked his rear end on a chair.

“I repeat,” Decker said. “Do you want some coffee?”

Liam nodded. “Thank you.”

“No problem.” Decker buzzed for another cup of coffee. “Banks moved out Saturday. I don’t know where he went. We’re looking for him. I was going to call you anyway, so I’m glad you dropped by. What are you so pissed about?”

“He owes me money. How am I ever going to get what rightfully belongs to me? Primo’s gone. Ryan’s as good as gone. I’m all alone in this now, and I can’t even find the bastard. I’m screwed!”

“The voice, O’Dell.”

“Sorry.”

The coffee arrived. The caffeine paradoxically seemed to have a soothing effect. Decker said, “Why don’t you just put out your own ‘best of’ album. If for no other reason, it might flush Banks out of the woodwork.”

“Where the fuck am I going to get money for that? To do anything in this bloody business, you need a backer.”

“I’m sure there are some Doodoo Sluts fans who might give you support. From what I understand, you had quite a crowd of admirers-male and female.”

“That was a century ago, mate. Rudy took them all. He probably fucked them over.” He took another gulp of the hot liquid. “I was really counting on the lawsuit. Not for me, but for Ryan. The guy lives like a junkyard dog.”

“I know. I went to visit him. His brother’s a doctor.”

“He told you that?”

“About ten times.”

“That sounds like Ryan.”

“Does his brother help out?”

“He does…he’s a good man, Barry is, but he can’t afford to put Ryan in the kind of home he needs.”

“Ryan said he was a lung doctor. They do pretty well.”

“He works at a university.”

“Aha.” Decker sipped. “Any idea where Rudy could have gone-a favorite club, a bar, a restaurant, a casino, maybe a massage parlor?”

“I’m in the dark, mate. I don’t know where he went or who he hung with. Whenever I went to see him, I tried to pick him off at his apartment.”

“Pick him off?”

“Y’know what I mean, mate.”

“Who is Rudy’s lawyer, O’Dell?”

“What?”

“Rudy’s attorney. You’re in a lawsuit with Banks. You have a lawyer. He must have a lawyer. Judging by the amount of lawsuits the guy generated, he probably has several lawyers.”

“He usually did his own defending. He’s a lawyer.”

“He’s got way too many suits to do it alone.”

“I suppose I could call me lawyer about it.”

“Please do.” Decker handed him the phone.

“Now?”

It was a little after eight. Decker said, “Even if your lawyer isn’t in, call and leave a message. If anyone knows where Rudy is, it would be his lawyer.”

“His lawyer won’t tell us, mate. Confidentiality.”

“I know that. I’ll deal with that later. For starts, I’d like to find out if Rudy’s alive.”

O’Dell made a tiny O with his mouth. “You think he’s dead?”

“That’s an open question.”

“Nah, he’s not dead.” O’Dell brushed Decker off. “He’s just runnin’ from his creditors.”

“Or from his dealers?”

Again, O’Dell paused. “That could be. Rudy used to deal, y’know.”

“Yes, I found that out. I think he might have used a kid named Darnell Arlington as one of his runners. Back then, he was around sixteen-tall and black. Built like a basketball player.”

“Name doesn’t ring any bell in me head. I didn’t buy the drug, Lieutenant. Rudy did. Rudy was the supplier for the band, the roadies, the girls, especially the girls.”

“What kinds of drugs?”

“From pot to H and anything in between. When we weren’t doing drugs, we were drinkin’ by the fifth. I don’t remember the kid, but I don’t remember much from those days at all. Not even the girls. That’s what really pisses me off. I don’t even know if it was good or not.”

“Where did Rudy get the money to buy the drugs?”

“Probably skimmed it from the band’s profits. He was in charge of the money. We were idiots for letting him do it, but we were also too stoned to care.”

“Ekerling seemed to be aware of things. How’d he let Rudy get away with handling the finances?”

“That’s what broke us up, mate. The money. When Primo started getting sober, he realized what was going down. The more sober he got, the more he and Rudy fought. When Rudy left the band, the Sluts wasn’t the Sluts. We tried to pick up the pieces, got a new lead vocalist, but it just didn’t click. And the times were changing. Grunge was pickin’ up and everyone wanted to sound like Kurt Cobain. I hate Seattle.”

“Does the name Jervis Wenderhole sound familiar? His street name was A-Tack.”

“Don’t know him, mate, but I don’t know everyone.” He finished his coffee. “So you think that Rudy’s dead?”

“He moved and we can’t find him. That’s all I know. Sure you don’t have a clue about where he might be?”

“Rudy always talked about moving to Mexico…money’s cheap and so are the women. That’s what he used to say.”

“Does he own property in Mexico?”

“I hope so. It would be something I could sell for cold hard cash.”

“Liam, if you think of anywhere he might be…if you find him, please call me right away. I found some blood drips in his apartment. More than a cut finger’s worth.”

“Oh bloody hell!” O’Dell looked grave. “Is it Primo?”

“It wasn’t Primo. He was O positive. The blood was B positive. There’s a nameless body out there, and Banks knows something about it.” Decker paused. “Was he mad at anyone specific?”

“No one specific, mate, just the world.”

CHAPTER 28

DECKER HANDED MARGE a slip of paper on which was written a name, an address, and a telephone number. “One of Rudy Banks’s lawyers. Go over and find out if she’s had contact with Rudy in the last few days.”

Marge flipped hair out of her eyes. Dressed in blue slacks, a white shirt, and a cardigan sweater, she could have stepped out of a Ralph Lauren ad. The name on the note was Hillary Mackleby, and the address was in the city. “You can’t find out this information by a phone call?”

“She’s not going to tell us anything about Rudy because of confidentiality issues, but a clever detective will be able to interpret her facial expression once you tell her that he’s been missing since Saturday. If she seems calm, he isn’t missing. If she seems alarmed, then maybe he hasn’t contacted her.”

“Where is this place?”

“Wilshire between Crescent Heights and La Brea.”

Marge sat down. “No problem. It’s convenient, anyway. I have to go into the city. I’ve found Jervis Wenderhole.”

“A-Tack.”

“I found out why they called him that,” Marge said. “His full name is Jervis Attarack Wenderhole. Attarack…A-Tack. Anyway we set up the appointment by phone tag. Since I’ll be going into the city, I’ll stop by the law offices and try to speak with Mackleby in person.”

Oliver knocked on the open door, then stepped into the office, wearing a brown jacket, white shirt, and a gold tie. Marge looked at him. “You look like you’re headed for Vegas.”

“I’ll take that as a compliment.” He pulled out a chair and sat down. “How’d the memorial go?”

“Freddie Vitton was a wealth of information. Rudy Banks used to torture Vitton’s younger brother, Cal Junior, when they were in school together. Banks went so far as to try to throw acid on his genitals-”

Marge said “Jesus” and Oliver said “Ouch” at the same time.

Oliver said, “What did Cal Senior do when he found out?”

“Apparently, Big Cal man never found out about the bullying,” Decker said.

“C’mon.” Marge looked up from her notepad. “He had to have known something.”

“According to Freddie, he probably did know something, but Cal J never confided in his dad, so Cal Senior never did anything. Freddie did mention that his father hated Rudy and if Rudy would have been implicated in Little’s death, Cal wouldn’t have hesitated to haul him in. Rudy was a punk and had run-ins with the law.”