Gumshoe Gorilla (47 page)

She stared into space for a few seconds, making little jotting motions with her fingers.

"Well either get it treated or share it with the rest of us," I said.

"Sorry. Just working out the details. Can you call up the text of the original blackmail notes?"

"Sure."

I did so, and handed Grey my palmtop.

"Yeah. This is it."

"What is
it?
" I demanded.

"Look at this," she said.

She put the palmtop on the table for the rest of us to see.

"All these crazy instructions. All this business about messing up the room or leaving it in pristine condition. Ordering from room service at certain times but not ordering at others. Leaving big tips, and apologizing to the staff. Don't you see what the blackmailer is trying to do?"

"No," I said. "So quit milking this for drama and get to the point."

"It's not about Eddie. That's been our mistake. We've been trying to figure out what the blackmailer wants from Eddie. But he's not the target of all this. He's just a prop. The blackmailer is only using him to set up a scene."

She pulled up the first blackmail note.

"See, look at these instructions. Now suppose you didn't know what had really happened, and were just looking at the records, trying to reconstruct the events of that night. You see Eddie check in, you see that he ordered dinner. Then, at 10:30, the entry logs have him him opening the door to his room. Which means that either he's leaving, or he's letting someone else in. At 11, he tells room service to send up a bottle of scotch, so it must be the latter-- he's got company in there. And since the door doesn't open again till 5:30 the next morning, that company must have spent the whole night. And to back up that story, you find out from the hotel staff that Eddie left the room in a major mess, as if he'd been partying all night. They remember because he left them a big tip and apologized for it. You see where I'm going?"

"I think so," I said.

She clicked on to the next note.

"Now look at Eddie's second hotel stay. He checks in at seven. At nine o'clock he makes a call to a re-dialing service, so he must be trying to get in touch with someone who's name he doesn't want to turn up on his phone bill. At 9:15, the entry logs show him opening the door to the room. This time, though, there's no evidence that he's in his room after that time. No order to room service, no telephone calls, he doesn't even download any television programs. Then at six am, the door opens again, and someone switches on the TV. The maids report that his bed was unslept in. They remember, again, because Eddie's famous and he left them a big tip."

"OK," I said. "So this time the blackmailer is trying to make it look like Eddie snuck out of the room and hooked up with somebody. Presumably, the same person he called using the re-dialing service."

"Right. Then there's the third night. This time, Eddie hangs around the restaurant bar for a couple of hours, as if he's waiting for someone. The bartender remembers because, once again, Eddie leaves a big tip. Then he exits the bar, and the footage from the surveillance camera in the elevator shows him going up to the the fourteenth floor. And it doesn't show him coming back down until the next morning. And the hotel records show that he never checked in."

I saw where she was going with this one.

"So the obvious conclusion," I said, "is that Eddie spent the night with someone who already had a room. A room on the fourteenth floor."

"Exactly. And I'll bet that if we could get into those hotel records, we'd find out that the fourteenth floor..."

"... is where Trent Reed was staying that night," I finished the thought for her.

For the first time, Grey and I seemed to be working on the same wavelength.

Blondie, however, was feeling left out.

"OK," Daniel said. "If the two of you are finished with your creepy little mind meld, can you tell me what's going on?"

"It's a layered blackmail scheme," Grey explained. "They blackmailed Eddie first, so that they could use him to create some dirt on their real target, Trent Reed. They're manufacturing evidence that the two of them are having an affair."

"Yeah," I said. "But it's all circumstantial evidence. And a person would have to do a lot of digging to even turn it up. Seems like an awfully weird way to try and blackmail someone. No compromising photos, no recorded conversations. I mean, who's really gonna jump to the conclusion that these two guys are sleeping together based on a bunch of hotel room records?"

Grey though about it for a few seconds.

"How about the media?"

She had a point. This was exactly the sort of story they would leap on.
Televangelist caught in homosexual affair with disgraced actor.
Just the suggestion would set their little reporter hearts racing. And they would have the resources to dig out all the little details and put them together. And then, sure enough, it would look like the Eddie and Reed were sleeping together. The circumstantial evidence would be overwhelming. All those times that Eddie had flown to a city where Reed was going to be. The fact that they always stayed in the same hotel. All the little clues that Eddie was meeting someone in that hotel for sex. Sure, there was no smoking gun. But that would only make it seem like Reed had covered his tracks. The story would start with the tabloids. Then the mainstream news organizations would report on the fact that the tabloids were reporting on it. And then the story would be everywhere.

"You're right," I admitted to Grey. "It is aimed at the press. Which means that it's not about blackmailing Trent Reed. It's about taking him down, destroying his career, and maybe sinking the Baptist News Network along with him."

I smiled. Finally, I felt like I was getting a handle on this case.

"And I think I know who's behind all this."

I found my partner in the shower. The shower in the locker room of his old high school, to be exact.

"Good game, Parker" called out a blond kid who was rinsing off. Chase Bryant, the captain of the soccer team.

"Yeah, thanks," Drew said, blushing a little.

"No, really." Chase insisted. "That was some goal."

Drew turned a brighter shade of pink.

"Aw, you could have taken that shot yourself," he said. "Why'd you pass the ball to me?"

The blond kid shrugged.

"You were in better position."

"Well, thanks."

"No problem," Chase said.

He turned off the water and took a step towards Drew.

"Is there anything else I can assist you with?"

I cleared my throat. They both looked in my direction.

"Sorry to interrupt guys, but I need to talk to Drew."

"Uh... can't it wait?" Drew asked. "I haven't finished my shower yet."

"Don't bother. I know how this sequence ends. Blondie there asks if there's anything else that he can assist you with, and you leer at him suggestively. There's an awkward moment of silence, then the two of you move closer together. And right when you're about to kiss, your mother comes walking in. Now, can we get down to business?"

"Uh.... Maybe I'll see you tomorrow, Drew," Chase said, and walked out.

Drew glared at me.

"I'll be in the kitchen when you're ready," I said.

I walked through the door and plunked myself down at the kitchen table, helping myself to a bowl of lucky charms. Drew came in a minute later, wrapped in a towel.

"Your timing could use some work," he said.

He picked up the empty box of Lucky Charms and shook it upside-down over his bowl.

"Hey Mom! We're out of cereal!"

"I'm going to the store today!" she called back. "Find something else for now."

Drew hunted around the kitchen, slamming cabinet doors.

"I need to talk to you," I said, trying to get his attention. "I did some checking up on those talking animals that were so eager to have us take on Skye's case."

"So?" Drew said.

He found a brag of pretzels, and poured them into a bowl with some milk.

"So, you need to pay attention to this. I started with the turtle. Word on the street is that old shell head is an errand boy for one of the deeper powers."

"Deeper powers?" Drew said, milk dripping from his mouth.

"Folks you don't want to mess with, if you can help it. Some of them are so old that they remember when your species and mine were still kissin' cousins. Anyway, I tried to find out which one the turtle is working for. But either my contacts don't know, or they're too scared to talk. I'd put money on the latter."

"So why do these 'deeper power' guys want us on this case, anyway?"

"That's what I want to know. The deeper powers don't usually muck about with stuff in the human world, not unless there's something big at stake. I just can't figure out why Eddie is so damn important to them."

Drew munched his pretzels.

"Maybe they think he's cute."

"Yeah," I said, "maybe. Anyway, I also checked up on the fox. Turns out she's freelance talent, but nobody seems to know who's paying her kennel fees on this one. But she doesn't work cheap, so it must be somebody who's seriously connected."

"And again, we come back to the question of why someone like that would care about Eddie," Drew said.

"Second verse same as the first. You got it. Then there's the rattlesnake. The totem for that Cherokee drag queen you were so buddy-buddy with last year."

"Ice-in-Summer? Isn't she dead?"

"Yeah, but it hasn't slowed her down much. Anyway, since we were already acquainted, I asked the snake to meet me at a bar. We had a few beers, I bought her a couple mice, she started to loosen her coils. Still wouldn't give me the 411 on her interest in the case, but she did let something interesting slip."

"Which was?"

"She said that Ice wanted you on this case because she knew you wouldn't crack it."

"Excuse me?"

"You heard me. She wants you, because she thinks you won't find the guy."

Drew slammed his spoon down into the bowl, sending milk flying everywhere.

"HEY! I am a great detective!"

"I've never said otherwise."

"So what makes some stupid talking snake think that I can't handle this?"

"Well, there was that big case last year where you got your client killed."

"That was not my fault! Who could have guessed that he'd be stupid enough to walk right into..."

"And that time you took the guy's fiancee on a stakeout."

"Hey, how was I supposed to know that she had a gun?"

"And of course, the poodle incident."

Drew's lips flapped silently for a few seconds while he tried to find the right response to that one. In the meantime, I noticed flashbulbs going off nearby, and the murmur of voices.