Private #1 Suspect (Private 2)

“I can do that.” He grinned. “But you didn’t answer my question.”

Justine braked the car at the curb, turned off the engine, and looked at the new guy on the team. He was young, regular features. Probably a little German, a little Brit, a little American Indian. Nice looking and kind of full of himself, but he was also curious and dogged. Good-natured too. He was going to be a fine addition to Private. As long as he stayed optimistic.

“Jack breaks hearts,” Justine said. “That’s what he does. I don’t even know if it’s his fault. Women want to fix Jack, and they think they can. I thought I could too.”

She reached into the backseat for her shiny leather handbag, opened it, and found a makeup kit in there. She took out her lipstick and a mirror, put fresh color on.

Scotty said, “So it is as Jack says. He was framed.”

“Jack is a lot of things, but he’s not a killer.”

Justine snapped her handbag closed and opened the car door. Scotty was saying, “But wasn’t he in the war? Wasn’t he a marine?”

CHAPTER 40

SCOTTY STOOD BESIDE Justine as the door to the building marked 231 opened and a barefoot Johnny Depp look-alike introduced himself as Larry Schuster, Danny Whitman’s manager.

Justine shook Schuster’s hand and introduced Scotty. They stepped inside, the air smelling of pot, burned toast, and air-conditioner coolant.

Scotty looked around the spiffy modern office, hardwood floors, round chairs in bright colors, desktops off to one side of the room littered with fruit baskets, stacks of scripts, half-eaten breakfasts on trays, and opened gift bags with watches and other loot spilling out, cornucopias of excess.

On the walls were framed posters of Whitman’s four previous action films, every one of them a blockbuster.

A man of about forty came toward Scotty and Justine. He had a crumpled brow and graying hair. He wore a wrinkled blue linen shirt with a monogrammed pocket, the sleeves rolled up. “I’m Mervin Koulos,” he said. “MK Productions.”

Koulos was the man who was making Shades of Green.

Justine handled the introductions, and they all took seats, the manager, the producer, Justine, and Scotty, in the squat chairs around a low table that made them all look like kids.

A girl came out and asked if anyone wanted anything. Schuster said, “Pass,” Koulos said, “Fiji, no ice.”

Justine said, “Coffee, please. Milk and sugar.”

Scotty took a pad and pen out of his pocket. “Okay if I take notes?” he asked, and everyone nodded yes.

Scotty understood that Schuster, the manager, was the hands-on guy responsible for the actor’s career, took 10 percent. The producer, Koulos, the scruffy older guy, had a big stake in whether or not the film got made. No wonder he looked worried. His star was in trouble.

Justine was explaining how Private worked, their methods, billing, et cetera, and what she proposed to do in this case. Both the manager and the producer agreed to “Whatever it takes to contain this thing.”

Everyone stood up. Schuster went to the back door and held it open, saying, “Dr. Smith, I think you should talk to the rest of the guys.”

CHAPTER 41

SCOTTY WAS THE last one out the back door. He saw a basketball hoop high on a wall forming an angle with another building. The asphalt court still had lines on it showing where to park.

A basketball sailed across Scotty’s sight line and went into the basket. Someone yelled, “Yeah!”

It was a guy about five-ten, short brown hair, shirtless, barbed-wire tattoo around his right biceps. He was grinning, triumphant, and he looked about twenty-two.

Schuster said that the guy, now dribbling the ball, was Rory Kovaks, Danny’s school pal from Nebraska. They’d grown up together, Rory coming out to LA to keep Danny company.

Schuster pointed out Alan Barstow, Danny’s agent at CTM, a big talent agency with top, top clients. Barstow was in his thirties, medium height and thin.

Last, Schuster pointed out Randy Boone, assistant to Danny, and Kevin Rose, Danny’s fight coach, all members of the Whitman entourage.

Schuster called out, “Time out, people. We have guests.”

The ball swished into the net and bounced off the asphalt onto the grass, where the various players gathered around. Schuster told the four guys that Justine and Scotty were from Private and that they had been hired to do damage control.