The Rock 'N Roll Detective's Greatest Hits - a Spike Berenger Anthology (9 page)

“To sell drugs to?”

Duncan nodded.

“Rock stars?”

He nodded again. “Actually it started out with me producing their next CD. They thought it’d be a good idea for ‘Flame’s son’ to produce them. I was in negotiations with the band through a liaison and then one thing led to another. I started selling coke and H for them instead.”

“So what did the cops find in your apartment?”

“I imagine it was all the stuff on my computer. Records. Names. Addresses. E-mail correspondence with Snort. Luckily there wasn’t any stash there at the time.”

“Snort?”

“Yeah, Snort’s my contact with the Jimmys. I don’t know his real name.”

Berenger thought of suggesting that Duncan turn State’s evidence in exchange for some kind of deal. He was certain that the DA would be happy to receive some useful information about the Jimmys. Berenger decided to wait and bring it up with Patterson later.

“One more thing, Adrian,” he said. “Do you happen to recall what you did with the backstage pass from the concert?”

Duncan looked up, confused. “The backstage pass?”

“You know, the sticky pass you put on your shirt for the Meet ‘n’ Greet?”

Duncan shook his head. “I don’t know. I took it off. I
ripped
it off. It may have been at the theater. I can’t remember. I’m pretty sure I threw it away. Why?”

“The police claim it was in your father’s hand when they found him.”

Duncan’s eyes went wide. “That’s impossible! That’s crazy!” he yelled.

One of the guards reacted to Duncan’s agitated state and moved toward him quickly.

“It’s all right, officer,” Berenger said, holding up his hand. “He’s just upset.”

But Duncan continued to rant and rave. “There’s
no way
that could happen! This is
bullshit
! It’s all
bullshit
! You, and the goddamn lawyer, and this fucking
jail
! You can all go to hell!”

Another guard joined the first one and they grabbed Duncan by the arms. He began to curse and resist, so they pulled him away from the table and slammed him against the wall. Berenger and Patterson stood and the lawyer shouted at them to handle his client properly. One of the guards announced that “visiting hours were over,” and led Duncan away.

Patterson was shaken by what had just happened but Berenger had seen it before. The Rock did that to people. Duncan had been there twenty-four hours and already he was losing it.

As the two men drove off the island in silence, Berenger couldn’t help but think that Adrian Duncan was a mean, spoiled thirty-five-year-old brat who was unappreciative of his mother’s efforts to clear his name.

He also wasn’t terribly convinced of Duncan’s innocence.

As they crossed the bridge into Manhattan, Berenger pulled out his cell phone and dialed Tommy Briggs. When his colleague answered, Berenger said, “Tommy, it looks like Adrian Duncan was indeed involved with the Jimmys. See what you can dig up about a guy who goes by the name of Snort.”

Briggs chuckled. “Okay, I’ll do that. That’s all?”

“Yeah. Thanks.”

“Okay. Hey, Ringo wants to talk to you.”

“Put her on.”

When Mel got on the line she said, “Spike there’s a package here for you. It was sitting outside the front door when I went out for lunch.”

“Who’s it from?”

“Doesn’t say.”

“Open it.”

He could hear the tearing of paper and scuffling sounds. Then Mel went, “Ewww!”

“What?”

“Spike, it’s… it’s a bunch of
wire
!”

“Wire?”

“No, wait, these are
guitar strings
—they’re all broken and sticky like they’ve got some kind of goo on ‘em.”

Uh oh.
Berenger knew what that meant.

“Look, Ringo, give the box to Tommy. Okay?”

“Okay. Yuck.”

Berenger hung up and stared out the window as they passed traffic on the FDR.

“Anything wrong?” Patterson asked.

“Not really,” Berenger said. “I just received a little message from the Jimmys. It appears I’m suddenly on their death list.”

T
he gathering took place at 3:30 in the afternoon in a large conference room located within the law offices of Castro, Miles, Pratt, and Sloan (Berenger thought they could have been a Folk Rock band in the seventies). As expected, it was a large turnout. Ross Miles, the attorney for Flame’s Estate, sat at the head of the table. Carol Merryman, her son Joshua, and her lawyer occupied the seats closest to the head of the table, on the left. Brenda Twist, Flame’s most recent girlfriend, sat next to the lawyer. On the other side of the table, the legendary record mogul Al Patton held the position closest to Miles, facing Carol. Apparently he didn’t need a lawyer. Berenger was amused at how Patton’s shiny bald head reflected a mirror image of the overhead fluorescent lights. Gina Tipton and Derek Patterson occupied the seats next to Patton. Berenger took the chair beside Patterson.

There had nearly been an altercation in the lobby when Brenda Twist showed up with Reverend Theo in tow. She was dressed in her Sunday Best—even though it was Thursday—and carried a Bible along with a small black purse. Both Carol Merryman and Gina Tipton were appalled that Flame’s girlfriend was present.

“What the hell are you doing here?” Carol asked Brenda to her face.

“I have a right to be here, Carol,” Brenda replied sweetly but with a subtle firmness that indicated she would stand her ground. “So does the Reverend.”

“The hell you do. This is for family only.” Carol looked at Gina for support, probably the only time the two women were on the same side of an issue.

“I lived with Flame for the last seven years,” Brenda said with a smile. “I’m just as important to him as you.”

“Why, you little b—”

“Ladies, please,” Reverend Theo interrupted. Berenger noticed that the reverend retained his huge, wide smile throughout the conversation. It was as if he had trademarked his grin. “I will gracefully bow out,” the man continued. “I was merely accompanying Miss Twist. I do believe she has permission from Mister Miles to be present today. Please accept my condolences once again for your loss. Brenda, I’ll wait for you out here.” He smiled even more broadly, bowed slightly, and backed away. He took a seat in the waiting room and picked up the latest
People
Magazine.

Carol stormed into the conference room and Joshua meekly followed her. Gina rolled her eyes at Berenger as the rest of the group filed in.

Now they sat facing Miles, waiting to hear what was inside the will of one of the world’s greatest rock stars. The Estate’s financial worth had not yet been determined. In all likelihood it would take months to sort it out. Everyone at the table knew this but Berenger swore he could see dollar signs in everyone’s eyes. He figured that Flame’s Estate was valued at a minimum of a billion.

Flame had been with Ross Miles for years and the attorney was a tough man to deal with. He was somewhere in his sixties, came from Brooklyn, and looked as if he could go the distance with Mike Tyson. Berenger knew him as a sharp and ruthless lawyer. Miles handled several other big-name celebrities and he had a reputation of wielding a big stick when it came to looking after his clients’ best interests.

“So, we’re all here,” Miles said. “I don’t think we need to beat around the bush so let’s get right to it.” He opened a sealed document and placed it on the table in front of him. “Flame and I made this will three years ago. He amended it seven months ago and it was witnessed by myself and Jimmy Castro.”

He read the legalese that was standard for all wills in New York State. Berenger noticed Carol Merryman nervously chewing her lower lip in anticipation of the good stuff. She was the only one at the table who had a notepad and pen, ready to jot down in detail how the pie was to be distributed. Al Patton was cool and calm. Gina acted as if this was an entire waste of time. Brenda Twist was trying her best to appear relaxed but her eyes darted apprehensively around the room and she clutched her Bible as if her life depended on it.

Finally, Miles got to the nitty-gritty. “Ownership and rights in Flame Productions Inc. shall be granted to Joshua Duncan. This includes all copyrights and licenses as well as physical property. A transition period of one year shall transpire with Carol Merryman presiding over the company until which time Joshua will take the reins.”

There were no gasps but Joshua Duncan’s eyes grew wide and his mouth dropped. Carol made a slight face of disapproval. She had been expecting something like that but didn’t realize she would have no control of the company after a year’s time. That meant she would be in charge of all the hard stuff—the probate, settling accounts, taking care of legal commitments that Flame had made, and putting the business in order. Just when it was about to become fun, she’d have to hand it over to her son.

Berenger wondered if Joshua Duncan had the
chutzpah
to run Flame’s business. The young man had always struck him as an introverted shrimp that followed his famous parents around the world like a puppy. Sometimes life didn’t make much sense.

Miles continued. “Eight million dollars in cash will be granted to Carol Merryman.”

This time there were a couple of quiet intakes of breath. Berenger was pretty sure they came from Carol and Gina. Carol scribbled the news on her notepad with vigor.

“Three million dollars in cash shall go to Brenda Twist.”

Carol made no attempt to disguise her dismay and nearly choked.
“What?”

Gina made a sour face and slumped a little in her chair.

Brenda looked to the ceiling and whispered, “Oh, sweet Jesus.” She pressed the Bible to her chest and went into a silent prayer.

“And finally,” Miles said, pausing for dramatic effect. Gina slightly turned her head to look at the attorney, just in case Flame had seen fit to leave something for his first family. “Twenty-five million dollars in cash shall go to the organization known as the Messengers.”

“Praise God!” Brenda said quietly.

Gina muttered, “Well, hell.”

Carol gasped and proclaimed, “You’ve got to be fucking kidding!” She looked around the room searching for sympathetic faces. Joshua sat staring at his hands, which lay palms down on top of the table. Al Patton merely nodded as if none of this was any surprise. Gina folded her arms in front of her and refused to look at anyone else. Brenda continued to pray even more intensely. The attorneys in the room shook their heads, betraying their true feelings with bemused looks on their faces.

“There’s one more thing,” Miles said, gaining everyone’s attention once again. “There is a clause indicating that if anyone contests the contents of the will, then no one will receive a thing and all aforementioned cash, rights, and property shall be bequeathed solely to the Messengers.”

“That son of a bitch,” Carol said.

Gina looked at Berenger and sighed. She and Adrian had been completely shut out.

“W
ell that went over like a lead zeppelin,” Gina said to Berenger out in the waiting room.

“I don’t know what to say, Gina,” Berenger said. “I know you’re disappointed.”

“Ah, well, what did I expect? I really didn’t think Adrian and I would get anything. I’m mostly surprised by the gift to those religious fanatics.” She looked over at Brenda and Reverend Theo, who were embracing and crying tears of joy.

She turned back to him and asked about Adrian.

“He’s fine,” Berenger replied. “He’s upset, of course, and it’s a real drag for him to be in jail, but he’s being treated all right. It’s a good thing he’s in protective custody.”

“I wish they’d let me see him more often. They really restrict visiting hours.”

“Yeah, I know.”

Carol entered the waiting room from the conference area. Her face was flushed and it was obvious she had been taking Ross Miles to task. Berenger was pretty sure that Miles put her in her place. Joshua stuck close to her, slightly in back, and refused to look anyone in the eye.