Transcript of phone call between Cooper Lamb and his children
ARIEL LAMB: How was your meeting with the divorce lawyer?
COOPER LAMB: The dude dodged my questions like a total pro. He didn’t even respond to my cannoli bribe!
ARIEL: Not everyone is a sugar monster, old man.
LAMB: Speaking of monsters, look who just showed up—it’s my best frenemy, Veena Lion! Say hello to Ms. Lion, children.
COOPER JR. and ARIEL: (In singsongy unison) “Hello to Ms. Lion, children.”
VEENA LION: (Laughs) They’re definitely your kids. Hello, Coop and Ariel! My sincere apologies for taking your father away for a business meeting.
COOPER JR.: It’s okay. We have homework anyway.
ARIEL: Do you always conduct your business meetings in a bar?
LION: I would like to tell you otherwise, but yeah, pretty much.
LAMB: Wait, wait—how do you know we’re in a bar, young lady?
ARIEL: Only, like, about a million clues. Glasses clinking, murmuring voices, the sound of a cable sports channel in the background. Also, it’s nine p.m. Where else would you be this time of day?
LAMB: Well, I hate to break it to you, Ms. Junior Detective, but you are one hundred percent wrong.
LION: (To server) Miss? I’d like a Hendrick’s martini up with three blue-cheese-stuffed olives.
ARIEL: You were saying, Father?
LAMB: I was saying—ahem—you are one hundred percent wrong about the cannoli. Nobody turns down a Termini Brothers cannoli. The lawyer is clearly hiding something, and that’s why I’m here in this church basement discussing my most recent case with Ms. Lion.
LION: Wow. The ease with which you lie to your poor children.
ARIEL: Uh-huh. Just make sure you take a cab home from the church basement. You shouldn’t be driving.
LAMB: I will take all appropriate measures, children. Don’t you worry about your old man.
COOPER JR.: See you tomorrow morning, Dad!
“I have something very important to show you.”
Veena smiled and beckoned with her fingers. “Oh yeah. Gimme.”
“Hang on now,” Cooper said, smiling. “This stays between us. I mean, like, in the vault, okay?”
“Of course. The vault. Why would this be any different?”
The vault was their mutually agreed-upon term for a discussion that would remain completely off the record, no matter what. A free zone for private eyes. Even if those private eyes were threatened with prison by a federal judge.
“This lies deep, deep, deep in the vault.”
“Fine. I’ll keep it in the deepest, darkest chamber of the vault.”
Cooper nodded, then slid a manila folder across the table, which was beaded with moisture from their drinks. Veena placed her fingertips on top of the folder and began to pull, but Cooper kept an iron grip on it.
“What is it?” Veena asked.
“This is ugly stuff.”
“I’ve probably seen worse.”
“Sure, but not from a national hero.”
Cooper meant it. Hell, it had been painful for him to read. He almost wished he could bleach the memory of this file out of his brain cells. What was that old saying, about how you should never meet your heroes? It was too late for Cooper to meet Archie Hughes but not too late for him to learn what kind of man he’d been.
“It’s fine,” she replied. “Don’t tell anyone, but I’m not much of a sports fan.”
Cooper nodded and released his grip on the folder. Veena removed her sunglasses and flipped open the file.
Usually, Veena Lion gave very little away. Her frustrated opponents called her “the Sphinx.” But as Veena read the series of printouts in the file, her eyes widened and her jaw dropped just a little. She might have been a stone-cold professional, but she was also a human being.
The file contained a series of screenshots of texts, each on its own page.
Where are you
Your appointment can’t be taking that long
Hey, baby, let me know where you are, I’m worried about you, that’s all
Come on, text me back
Baby, where are you
You there?
Baby, come on
Where are you, anyway? I called the salon and they said you’d left hours ago. This is NOT cool
Don’t you dare ignore me, bitch
You had better call me back now, I swear to God
I can have your phone tracked, you know. You want me to do that?
F--- me
I see where you are
Really love to know what your fans would think of you right now, you f------ whore
There’s not enough fancy makeup in the world to cover up a broken nose, you hear me? CALL ME NOW
And the texts raged on and on and on. “Well, this is completely awful,” Veena said, closing the file.
“Warned you,” Cooper replied.
“Here’s what I don’t get.”
“What more could you want? Archie Hughes was an abusive son of a bitch and no one knew it except Francine.”
“That part is perfectly clear. What I don’t get is, why would you share these with me? Do I need to tell you how much Mostel would love to get his hands on this file?”
“Because we want the same thing,” Cooper said. “The truth, no matter what. Remember?”
“But I’m working for the DA, and you’re trying to keep Francine Pearl Hughes out of prison. Sharing this with me doesn’t help you one bit.”
Cooper took a large swallow of his drink. “Normally, I’d agree with you. But in this case, the texts came directly from Francine’s lawyer. Which I think is very interesting, don’t you?”
“I do,” Veena said, drumming her fingers on the bar. “Why would Francine’s own lawyer willingly hand over a big fat motive that pretty much damns her client?”
“Lisa Marchese is one thousand percent certain that Francine didn’t kill her husband.”
“So what? Easy enough for her to hire someone to do it for her. A pro who turned out to be a little careless or forgot to make it look like a proper carjacking.”
“No. I also believe Francine had nothing to do with it.”
“You’re being paid to believe her,” Veena said.
“I’m working for her,” Cooper replied, “but I believe her anyway. Our killer is still out there.”