Gumshoe Gorilla (52 page)

I noticed that Drew was staring at something behind me. I turned around and saw Eddie eating the last slice of pizza.

"Hey!" I shouted. "You were warned!"

I jumped on him, wrestled him to the ground, and managed to pry away the crust and one anchovy that he hadn't managed to stuff into his mouth yet.

"You are gonna pay for that!" I said.

He grinned.

"I'm counting on it."

Behind me, Drew cleared his throat. I climbed off of Eddie and stood up.

"Sorry," I said. "Where were we?"

"Um... talking business. I think."

Drew looked at me, then back at Eddie, then back at me again.

Eddie excused himself and went to the bathroom to brush his teeth.

"He does that every time he eats," I said. "I mean, like
anything
. He has one cracker, and he's off to the bathroom to brush his teeth again."

"Yeah, well he's got a lot invested in that dental work. Um... by the way, I couldn't help but notice that Eddie's wearing an Emory sweatshirt."

"Yeah," I said. "So?"

"Well... Not to jump to any conclusions. But I know that Eddie didn't go to Emory, and I know that you did. So I find myself wondering..."

"Yes, Sherlock. It's my sweatshirt."

"And the reason that he's wearing your clothes?"

"Well, I kinda dumped a glass of coke on him earlier, and he had to soak the shirt that he was wearing."

Drew raised an eyebrow.

"It wasn't like that," I said. "See, he'd been joking about... how... you know... well, I guess you had to be there."

"I guess so."

There was something odd in his voice. He looked away from me and went to get a glass of water from the kitchen.

"OK," I said. "Let's get it over with."

"What?"

"The riot act. You're gonna remind me of rule #4:
Never get involved with someone on a case
. And then I'm gonna pretend to feel guilty for a few minutes. We both know the drill by now."

"No," Drew said, suddenly flushing crimson. He tried to cover by splashing some water on his face, as if he was hot. "It's not that."

Wow. Drew not getting mad about rule #4? Something was up.

"So what is it then?" I pressed.

"It's... um... I just... I... uh... uh... uh..."

I got a note pad out of the drawer and handed it to him.

"Here. Try writing it down."

"um... Are you two...?"

"And would it be any of your business if we are?" I asked.

"I just wanted to... Well, I mean you know Eddie's... situation. Are you sure this is such a good idea?"

"No, I'm pretty sure that it's a colossal mistake," I admitted.

"Then why are you...?"

"Because sometimes you gotta be willing to make a mistake," I said. "You know? Just because life would be so fucking
boring
if you always did the smart thing. Once in a while you've gotta stop trying to control everything and give the universe a chance to teach you something new."

"Uh-huh. So you're claiming stupidity as a philosophical choice?"

"Something like that. Besides, the last few Mr. Rights haven't worked out so well for me. Maybe it's time to give Mr. Wrong a break. Who knows? Maybe he'll surprise me."

Drew thought about that for a few seconds.

"You might try it yourself," I prodded. "Think a little less. Take a few more risks."

"I don't know," he said. "I don't think the universe is ready for another you."

Behind me, I heard the bathroom door open. A moment later Eddie put his arms around my waist and started nibbling on my ear. Well, at least his breath was all minty fresh now.

I noticed Drew's face turn a deeper shade of red.

"Stop it," I said. "You're embarrassing my partner."

"Oh," Eddie said, as if noticing Drew for the first time. "Sorry. How's it going, Drew?"

"uh... fine.... uh... Jen and I were... um... trying to decide what to do... um... about the case, that is."

We were spared from more of Drew's incoherent mumbling by a knock at the door. Linda this time. I disengaged myself from Eddie's clutches and went to answer it. Again, no happy face on the returning warrior. I must have been sucking up all the good karma in our little group for the last few hours.

"No luck?" I asked.

"Not much," she said, stripping off her business jacket.

She made a beeline for the freezer and got some ice to rub on her neck. Then she got a glass out of the cabinet and poured herself a coke. Well, I guess I don't need to show
her
where I keep anything.

"Busy day?" I asked.

"I'll say. In one afternoon I've managed to call in five favors, eavesdrop on seven conversations, and break two of the ten commandments."

"Which two?" Drew asked.

"None of the fun ones. Anyway, it didn't do me a bit of good. I didn't run across a trace of our little blackmail operation. Which means that if the Christian Alliance is behind this, then they're not employing any of their usual operatives."

"Could they be using someone else?" I asked. "Maybe an outside contractor?"

"Maybe, but it's not like them. They've got a small group of people that they're comfortable with-- mostly true believers with military experience. I don't think they'd trust anyone else. And..."

"And what?" I pressed.

"And it just doesn't feel right," she said. "Everyone in the Alliance seems pretty damn confident that they're on the winning side. That Trent Reed and BNN are gonna collapse any day now. So why would they try something like this? Why run such a risky op if they think they're gonna win anyway?"

"Good question," I agreed.

"So how did things go with the Cherokee?" she asked Drew. "You have better luck?"

He shrugged, and muttered something to the effect that he hadn't.

"OK," Linda said, "So where do we go from here?"

The four of us looked around at each other.

"Well, I suppose we could start looking into Reed's other enemies," I said. "Who else has BNN ticked off over the years? We've got the Wiccans, the gays, the Mormons, the Catholics, the Buddhists, modern artists, the South American Trading Block, the Teachers' Union, whales..."

"Good grief," Linda said. "We could be at this forever."

She slammed her drink down on my table and scowled.

"Hey!" I said. "Watch it with the negative energy. I live here."

Linda glared at me. I looked to Drew for moral support, but he was in a funk. My co-workers were obviously stumped. I needed to do something to shake things up.

Eddie was standing next to my bookcase. "Eddie, can you hand me that puppet?"

"This one?"

"Yeah."

He handed me an old hand puppet that I'd used once when I went undercover as a clown at a kid's birthday party. I know, it was kind of rotten of me. But the kid's dad was a big time embezzler. And I did make the kid laugh.

Anyway, I put the frog puppet on my hand.

"What are you doing?" Linda asked.

"Trying to get us out of this funk," I said. "This is Leroy. He's our blackmailer. I want you to tell me about him."

Linda looked at the frog and scowled.

"You're crazy," she said. "You know that, right?"

"Yeah, but enough about me. Tell me about Leroy. What's he doing?"

Linda groaned.

"You're stuck," Drew told her. "She won't quit this until you play along."

"Fine," Linda said.

She looked at the puppet.

"Leroy here hired a bunch of women to set up Eddie for drug trafficking. Then he forced Eddie to set up clues that he's having an affair with Trent Reed."

"And then?" I prodded.

"And then, Leroy is going to murder Eddie. He'll plant a few more clues around the body, pointing towards a lovers quarrel with Reed. Reporters will swarm over the story. Enormous media feeding frenzy.
Televangelist murders Rockland brother in gay lovers quarrel.
Reed's reputation is destroyed and BNN sinks into oblivion."

Beside me, I noticed that Eddie was turning pale. I hadn't told him about the him-getting-killed part yet.

"Don't worry," I said, "We're not gonna let Leroy do that."

Eddie looked a little less anxious. It is hard to be scared of a felt frog.

"OK. So what does that tell us about LeRoy?" I asked.

"Well he sure hates Trent Reed," Linda said.

"Besides that."

"Uh...."

I held the puppet in front of her.

"Come on. I'm Leroy. I hate Trent Reed. So why don't I just shoot him? Or poison him? Or plant a bomb in his car? Why do I do all
this
?"

"Because your little froggy fingers can't pull a trigger?"

"Linda, you can at least try..."

"Because
this
is what you're good at," Drew interrupted.

Finally, my partner was joining the party. He looked at the puppet.

"Leroy doesn't know how to use a gun," Drew went on. "He's not good with explosives or poisons. He's not comfortable with those things. But he's good at manipulating people."

Well, that certainly sounded right.

"And particularly reporters," Linda added. "The way the blackmailer set up all those clues for them to find. It suggests that Leroy is pretty savvy about how the media operates."

"OK," I agreed. "So Leroy here is more likely to be a reporter or a publicist than a soldier or a cop."

"Yeah," Linda said. Then she thought for a moment. "But not a political reporter."

"Why not?" I asked.

"Because a political reporter would have set up a
political
scandal. Something about influence peddling, or voter fraud."

I saw where she was going.

"But Leroy here set up a tawdry little sex scandal involving a celebrity," I said.

"Right," Linda agreed. "So Leroy must be someone who lives for that kind of thing. Someone who just gets a hard on at the thought of stories about Reed having sex with Eddie Rockland."

"Someone who reads the tabloids," Drew suggested. "Not the
New York Times
."

I looked at Leroy.

"Oh, you are a bad little frog. OK. What else?"

Drew wrinkled up his forehead.

"We know Leroy is manipulative," I suggested. "Is he charming? Do people like him?"

"No," Drew said. "He's kind of a prick."

"Why do you say that?" Linda asked.

"Because of the way he's handled Eddie. He didn't persuade him to set up Reed. He didn't trick him into it. He's not someone who gets what he wants by charm. No, Leroy forced Eddie to do things by threatening him with jail time. Leroy is someone who likes to give orders."

"Yeah," I agreed. "He does seem like a major control freak. Remember the way the notes were written?"

"OK," Linda agreed. "So we're looking for someone who likes to give orders. Maybe a CEO or something like that."

"Yeah..." I started to agree.

Then stopped myself. That didn't feel right. I tried to figure out why.

"No," I said. "Not a CEO."

"Why not?" Linda asked.

"Think about the way the notes are worded," I said. "They don't have that casual air of command that comes with real power. A CEO would expect his orders to be followed. He'd issue an instruction once and then move on. But the guy who wrote these notes... he seems almost desperate to assert control. He keeps threatening Eddie with jail time over and over again, as if he thinks Eddie might have forgotten. More like someone who wants power over people, but never got it."

"Frustrated middle manager?" Drew suggested.

"Frustrated, yeah. Someone with big dreams who's stuck and angry about it," I said.

Linda frowned.

"You don't think so?" I asked.

"This is all kind of touchy-feely for me. But it does sound right. OK. I'll keep playing."

"Good." I said. "Tell me more about Leroy. Is he rich?"

Drew thought about it.

"He's not poor. But he doesn't need to be rich, either. He only had to lay out a few hundred for the hotel rooms. A few hundred more for the bimbos to fill them. And a couple thousand to pay Eddie to sleep with them and buy his drugs. Not a huge outlay, all things considered."