Live Wire (33 page)

One of the beanbag chairs sat center of the three televisions. Myron could see the silhouette of a head. There were bottles of what Myron assumed was booze on the floor next to him.

The music stopped as though someone had switched it off. Myron could see the man in the beanbag stiffen—or maybe that was his imagination. Myron wasn’t sure what to do here—call out, approach slowly, just wait?—but the decision was soon made for him.

The man in the beanbag chair stumbled to a stand. He turned toward Myron, the glow from the televisions keeping him a dark silhouette. More as a reaction than anything else, Myron moved his hand toward the weapon in his pocket.

The man said, “Hey, Myron.”

It wasn’t Gabriel Wire.

“Lex?”

He was teetering, probably from drink. If Lex was surprised to see Myron here, he wasn’t showing it. His reactions had probably been dulled by the bottle. Lex spread his arms and moved toward Myron. Myron came toward him, nearly catching Lex as he collapsed into Myron’s arms. Lex dug his face into Myron’s shoulder. Myron held him up.

Through the tears, Lex kept repeating, “My fault. It’s all my fault.”

Myron tried to comfort and hush him. It took some time. Lex reeked of whiskey. Myron let him cry it out. He moved Lex toward a bar stool and perched him on it. In his Bluetoothed ear, Myron could hear Win say, “I had to put the security guard down. Safely, don’t worry. But you might want to pick up the pace here.”

Myron nodded as though Win could see him. Lex was pretty wasted. Myron decided to skip the preliminaries and get right to it. “Why did you call Suzze?”

“Huh?”

“Lex, I don’t have time for this, so please listen up. Suzze received a call from you yesterday morning. After that, she ran off to see Kitty and Alista Snow’s father. Then she came back home and overdosed. What did you say?”

He started sobbing again. “It was my fault.”

“What did you say, Lex?”

“I took my own advice.”

“What advice?”

“I told you. At Three Downing. Remember?”

Myron did. “No secrets from the one you love.”

“Exactly.” He swayed from the booze. “So I told my true love the truth. After all these years. I should have told her years ago but I figured that somehow, Suzze always knew. You know what I mean?”

Myron didn’t have a clue.

“Like deep down I thought she always knew the truth. Like it wasn’t all a coincidence.”

Oh man, it was tough to talk to a drunk. “What wasn’t a coincidence, Lex?”

“Us falling in love. Like it was preordained. Like she always knew the truth. You know, deep down inside. And maybe—who knows?—maybe she did. Subconsciously. Or maybe she fell for the music, not the man. Like the two are interwoven anyway. How do you separate the man from the music? Like that.”

“What did you tell her?”

“The truth.” Lex started to cry again. “And now she’s dead. I was wrong, Myron. The truth didn’t set us free. The truth was too much to handle. That’s the part I forgot. The truth can bring you closer together, but it can also be too much to bear.”

“What truth, Lex?”

He started sobbing.

“What did you tell Suzze?”

“It doesn’t matter. She’s dead. What’s the difference now?”

Myron decided to shift gears. “Do you remember my brother, Brad?”

Lex stopped crying. He looked confused now.

“I think my brother might be in trouble because of all this.”

“Because of what I said to Suzze?”

“Yes. Maybe. That’s why I’m here.”

“Because of your brother?” He thought about it. “I can’t see how. Oh, wait.” He stopped and said something that made Myron’s blood chill. “Yes. I guess, even after all these years, it could have led back to your brother.”

“How?”

Lex shook his head. “My Suzze . . .”

“Please, Lex, tell me what you told her.”

More sobbing. More shaking of his head. Myron had to move him along.

“Suzze was in love with Gabriel Wire, wasn’t she?”

Lex sniffled some more, wiped his nose with his shirt sleeve. “How did you know?”

“The tattoo.”

He nodded. “Suzze drew that, you know.”

“I know.”

“It was Hebrew and Gallic letters combined into a love sonnet. Suzze was so artistic.”

“So they were lovers?”

He frowned now. “She thought that I didn’t know. That was her secret. She loved him.” Lex’s voice turned bitter. “Everyone loves Gabriel Wire. Do you know how old Suzze was when she started up with him?”

“Sixteen,” Myron said.

Lex nodded. “Wire always liked to seduce the young ones. Not prepubescent. He wasn’t into that. Just young. So he let Suzze and Kitty and some of the other tennis girls party with us. The famous with the famous. Rock star with tennis starlet. A match made in celebrity heaven. Me, I never paid much attention to them. Enough girls around so that you didn’t need someone illegal, you know what I mean?”

“I do,” Myron said. “I found a photograph from the Live Wire shoot. Gabriel had the same tattoo as Suzze.”

“That?” Lex snickered. “It was temporary. He just wanted a famous notch on his belt. Suzze was so smitten with him she stuck by him even after he killed Alista Snow.”

Whoa.

“Hold up,” Myron said. “Did you just say Gabriel killed Alista Snow?”

“You didn’t know? Of course. Got her doped up on roofies. But he didn’t give her enough, dumb bastard. He raped her and then she totally freaked out. Said she was going to tell. In Wire’s defense—and no, it’s not a defense—he was stoned out of his mind too. He pushed her off the balcony. It’s all on videotape.”

“How?”

“The room had a security camera.”

“Who has the videotape now?”

He shook his head. “I can’t tell you that.”

But Myron already knew, so he just said it: “Herman Ache.”

Lex didn’t respond. He didn’t have to. It added up, of course. It was pretty much just what Myron had thought.

“We both owed Ache big,” Lex said. “Mostly Gabriel—but he used HorsePower as collateral. He had one of his men with us all the time. To protect his investment.”

“And that’s why Evan Crisp is still here?”

Lex actually shuddered at the mention of his name.

“He scares me,” he said in a whisper. “I even thought maybe he killed Suzze. Once she knew the truth, I mean, Crisp had warned us. There was too much money at stake. He would kill anyone who got in the way.”

“What makes you so sure he didn’t kill her?”

“He swore to me he didn’t do it.” Lex leaned back. “And how could he? She shot up. That woman investigator, what’s her name?”

“Loren Muse.”

“Right. She said there was no evidence she was murdered. She said all signs point to an overdose.”

“Have you ever seen the videotape of Wire killing Alista Snow?”

“Years ago. Ache and Crisp sat us both down and showed it to us. Wire kept crying that it was an accident, he didn’t mean to push her over the rail, but really, what’s the difference? He killed that poor girl. Two nights later—I’m not making this up—he actually called Suzze to come over. And she did. Suzze thought he was the victim of the press. So blind—but then again she was only sixteen years old. What’s the rest of the world’s excuse? Then he dumped her. Do you know how we hooked up—Suzze and me?”

Myron shook his head.

“It was ten years later at a gala for the Museum of Natural History. Suzze asked me to dance and I swear the only reason she came on to me that night was because she hoped that I could lead her back to Wire. She still pined for him.”

“But she fell for you.”

He managed a smile on that one. “Yes. She did. Really and truly. We were soul mates. I know Suzze loved me. And I loved her. I thought that would be enough. But really, when you stop and think about it, Suzze had already fallen for me. That’s what I meant before. About falling for the music. She fell for his beautiful façade, yes, but she also fell for the music, the lyrics, the meaning. Like with
Cyrano de Bergerac
. Do you remember that play?”

“I do.”

“They all fell for the gorgeous façade. The whole world, really—we fall for the beauty of the outside. Not a news flash, is it, Myron? We are all shallow. You ever see someone, some guy maybe, and you just
know
from his face he’s a nasty SOB? Gabriel Wire was the opposite. He looked so soulful, so poetic, so beautiful and sensitive. The façade. And underneath was nothing but decay.”

“Lex?”

“Yes.”

“What did you tell Suzze on the phone?”

“The truth.”

“You told her that Gabriel Wire killed Alista Snow?”

“That was part of it, yes.”

“What was the rest of it?”

He shook his head. “I told Suzze the truth, and it killed her. I have a son to protect now.”

“What was the rest of it, Lex?”

“I told her where Gabriel Wire was.”

Myron swallowed. “Where is he, Lex?”

And then the strangest thing happened. Lex stopped crying. He smiled now and looked toward a beanbag by the television. Myron felt his blood go cold.

Lex didn’t speak. He just stared at the beanbag chair. Myron remembered what he had heard as he came up the stairs. Singing.

Gabriel Wire singing.

Myron slid off the stool. He moved toward the beanbag chair. He saw a strange shape in front of it, low down, on the floor maybe. He came closer, turned his gaze to the floor, and now he could see what it was.

A guitar.

Myron spun back toward Lex Ryder. Lex was still smiling.

“I heard him,” Myron said.

“Heard who?”

“Wire. I heard him singing when I was on the stairs.”

“No,” Lex said. “That was me you heard. It’s always been me. That’s what I told Suzze. Gabriel Wire died fifteen years ago.”

D
ownstairs, Win woke up the security guard.

The guard opened his eyes wide. He was tied up with a gag in his mouth. Win smiled at him. “Good evening,” Win said. “I’m going to remove your gag. You will answer my questions and not call for help. If you refuse, I will kill you. Any questions?”

The security guard shook his head.

“Let’s start with an easy one,” Win said. “Where is Evan Crisp?”

 

 

“We did meet at the Espy in Melbourne. But that’s the only part of our story that’s true.”

They were back on the bar stools. Suddenly even Myron needed a belt. He poured them both two fingers of Macallan Scotch. Lex stared down into his glass as if it held a secret.

“At the time I’d already released my solo album. It went nowhere. So I started thinking about putting together a band. So I’m in the Espy when Gabriel sauntered in. He was eighteen years old at the time. I was twenty. Gabriel had dropped out of school and been arrested twice for drug possession and another time for assault. But when he walked in the bar, the way every head turned . . . you know what I mean?”

Myron just nodded, not wanting to interrupt.

“He couldn’t sing a lick. He couldn’t play an instrument. But if a rock group is a movie, I knew that I needed to cast him as front man. We made up the whole story about my playing in the bar and him coming to my rescue. Actually I half stole the story from a scene in a movie.
Eddie and the Cruisers
. Have you seen it?”

Again Myron nodded.

“I still meet people who swear they were at the Espy that night. I don’t know if they’re lying to feel important or if they’re just self-delusional. Probably both.”

Myron remembered his own childhood. Every friend of his had claimed to see a “surprise” Springsteen show at the Stone Pony in Asbury Park. Myron had his doubts. He’d gone three times in high school when he heard the rumors, but Bruce never showed.

“Anyway, we became HorsePower, but I wrote every song—every melody, every lyric. We used backing tapes onstage. I taught Gabriel how to carry a tune but for the most part I dubbed over him or studiofied it.”

He stopped now, took a deep sip, seemed lost. To bring him back, Myron asked, “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why did you need him as a prop?”

“Don’t be daft,” Lex said. “He had the looks. It’s like I told you—Gabriel was the beautiful, poetic, soulful façade. I viewed him as my greatest instrument. And it worked. He loved being the big star, nailing every piece of young ass who crossed his path, making money hand over fist. And I was happy too. Everyone was listening to my music. The entire world.”

“But you never got the credit.”

“So? That’s never mattered much to me. I was about the music. That was all. The fact that the world considers me a second banana . . . well, the joke is on them, isn’t it?”

Myron guessed that maybe it was.

“I knew,” Lex went on. “That was enough for me. And in a sense, we were indeed a real rock group. I needed Gabriel. Isn’t beauty in a sense its own talent? Successful designers put their dresses on beautiful models. Don’t the models play a role? Big companies have attractive spokespeople. Aren’t they relevant to the process? That’s what Gabriel Wire was to HorsePower. And the proof was in the eating. Listen to my solo stuff from before I met Wire. The music is just as good. No one cared. Do you remember Milli Vanilli?”

Myron did. They were two male models named Rob and Fab who lip-synched someone else’s music and rose to the top of the charts. They even won a Best New Artist Grammy.

“Remember how the world hated those two guys when the truth came out?”

Myron nodded. “They were vilified.”

“Exactly. People actually went out and burned their records. How come? Wasn’t the music the same?”