Roger didn’t seem very comforted at the moment though. He turned troubled eyes to me. “So, um, I’m guessing that the fact you want to talk to me means you don’t think Vic committed suicide?”
“You’re right,” I said evenly. “It’s been ruled a homicide.”
He seemed to fold in on himself as he sank to sit on the couch. “That’s so hard to believe,” he said, voice hollow. “Vic was such a cool guy. Why would anyone want to kill him?”
“That’s what I intend to find out.” I pulled out my notebook and found the photocopy I’d made of the paper that had the initials and the dollar amounts. “Just so you know, I’ve already submitted subpoenas for Mr. Kerry’s bank statements and financial information, but I found something during my search of the office, and I’m wondering if you can help me figure out what it means.” I passed him the copy of the paper, watching him carefully for his reaction, but to my surprise he merely nodded.
“I can tell you exactly what this is. Well,” he amended, “I can tell you what the ‘R. P.’ stuff is. I mean, that’s me, as I’m sure you guessed.” He looked back up at me. “And he loaned me fifteen thousand dollars.”
“Can you tell me why?”
“I want to open my own gym,” he said, leaning forward, suddenly earnest. “Not a fitness center like Magnolia, but a real gym for people serious about working out. No spa or any of that crap.”
“Surely you need more than fifteen thousand dollars.” Doubt colored my voice. “You have other investors?”
He sat back. “Not yet. No one’s going to want to invest in a nobody without any seed money. But Vic really believed in me, which was why he loaned me the money. He put me on to some really good investments, and by the time I’m ready to go forward with the gym, I figure I’ll have enough to be able to attract some serious investors.”
“What kind of investments?” I asked.
He shrugged. “Honestly, I’m not really sure. Vic said he’d loan me the money and would take care of all the investment stuff. He had me sign some papers for him so that he could take care of everything.”
I blinked. Was he truly this naive? “You mean a power of attorney?”
An expression of chagrin crossed his face. “Um, well, I guess it was kinda like that. I totally trusted Vic, though. And since it was his own money, it wasn’t like I was worried about him taking it, y’know?”
“Did you ever get the feeling that anything about the situation wasn’t completely legit?” I asked, doing my best to keep the dubious note out of my voice. It shrieked not legit to me, but then I was more cynical than most when it came to this sort of thing. Probably because I’d seen so many cases of fraud.
He shook his head firmly. “Never. Vic’s known about my plans for the gym for close to a year now, and has always said he’d support me any way he could.”
It was possible that there was nothing hinky about the whole deal, but now I was itching to find out more about these investments. “Roger, did Vic ever give you any paperwork showing you how he invested the money?”
The first shadow of doubt briefly clouded his face. “Well, no. But maybe he hadn’t had a chance to do anything with the money yet. I mean, it was only a couple of weeks ago.”
I nodded to let him think I accepted that as a possibility, even though I most certainly did not. “All right. One more question: Did you ask to borrow the money, or did he offer to loan it to you?”
“He ... offered,” Roger said slowly, then his face abruptly paled. He clearly wasn’t stupid—simply completely unwilling to consider that Vic might have had anything but his best interests at heart. “Shit,” he whispered. His eyes snapped up to mine in desperation. “Am I in trouble? Did Vic do something illegal in my name?” He groaned and dropped his head into his hands. “Oh my god. I trusted him.”
He’s not worried about being accused of murder, I noted. “I don’t know, Roger. I’m looking into it.” I paused. “But every bit of information you can give me will help me find his killer.”
He gave a vigorous nod. “Anything. God. Just ask. I swear, I have nothing to hide.”
“Would you be willing to allow me access to your bank and investment accounts?” I wasn’t surprised to see him nod again. Good, that saved me the trouble of getting a subpoena.
“What do I need to do?”
I glanced at my watch. Where the hell had the day gone? “It would be easiest for me if you could go down to your bank and arrange for me to have full access. Then I can simply swing by and pick it all up when it’s ready.”
“I’ll go down there right now.” He paused, swallowed hard. “Am I a suspect?” he asked, a slight tremor in his voice.
I knew what I was supposed to say. I knew I should say that I hadn’t ruled anyone out and that the investigation was ongoing.
“No,” I said instead. The look of relief on his face was almost painful to see. I hated that I had to prick that bubble of relief. “Roger, I should tell you that I also haven’t ruled out that Vic wasn’t the intended victim.”
Fear flickered in his eyes. “Oh, god. Because I work out there sometimes. And if he did something illegal in my name ...” He ran a shaking hand through his hair.
I touched his arm. “Look, I’m not trying to spook you. But be careful, all right? Try to be with someone else at all times until I can find out more.”
He took a deep breath. “Yeah. Okay. Watch my back.” He still looked spooked, but I hoped that was better than him being oblivious.
“How well did Adam Taylor know Vic?” I asked, as much to distract him as to dig for more information.
He blinked, clearly surprised at the question. “I wasn’t aware that they knew each other at all.” Then his eyes dropped to the paper. “Ooohh, you think ‘A. T.’ is Adam Taylor.”
I shrugged. “It’s only a theory at this point.” This was why I’d made a copy. I didn’t want to have his answer influenced by seeing the copies of the returned checks that had been on the other side of the original.
Roger pursed his lips into a thoughtful frown. “Actually, that would make a lot of sense. Adam’s been having a lot of financial problems. He owns the studio where we rehearse, and his business has kinda been sucking ass. I know he’s been wanting to find someone to invest in it so that he can upgrade and attract more business.”
Well, it looked like I was going to have a very interesting talk with Adam Taylor later today. I stood. “Roger, I appreciate you talking to me. You’ve been a huge help.” I handed him my card. “Please call me if you think of anything else that might be of use.”
He nodded as he took my card. I was pleased to see that he didn’t look as freaked as he had before. He was tough and smart, even if he was more than a little naive. “I will. Thank you.”
I gave him another reassuring smile and departed, thoughts churning as I returned to my car. Vic Kerry had been up to something dicey, and it had earned him a flight out the window.
Now I merely had to figure out what his scheme could have been. And how it could be connected to the attack on Lida Moran. And what the hell the creature was.
And while I was at it, I could go ahead and bring about world peace and end world hunger.
I returned to the station and headed straight to my office. After locking the door behind me, I plopped into my chair then winced as the damn spring poked my backside again. You’d think my backside would have enough padding for that not to hurt, I grumbled to myself as I logged on to my computer.
Google was going to be my best friend for a while I decided as I plugged in searches on Ether Madhouse, the band members, Adam Taylor, and Vic Kerry. As expected, the searches on the band and the members turned up a zillion results, with about half being websites with general information about the band, and the rest articles and blog entries about the incident at the concert. I skimmed a few of the blog entries, but the opinions and analysis of what had happened ran the gamut from “people are stupid and it was a crazy stalker fan” to “what a lame-ass and dangerous publicity stunt.” There was nothing that even suggested that it might have actually been something demonic or arcane, which actually surprised me considering the level of Crazy that usually existed on the Internet.