15

Ben Bacchetti was furious. He slammed the paper down on his desk and snatched up the phone. “Get me Josh Hargrove at the Culver City Chronicle.”

Ben’s secretary was startled. “Sir?”

“No, scratch that. Is Billy Barnett in yet?”

“I think so.”

“Ask him to step in, will you?”

Teddy walked into the office to find Ben still fuming. “What’s the matter?”

“Did you see the Culver City Chronicle this morning?”

Teddy smiled. “Gee, it’s usually on the top of my reading pile, but—”

“There’s a story by a hack named Josh Hargrove. He wrote that Tessa Tweed got nominated for a picture where she doesn’t even say her own lines!”

“What?”

“This lowlife scum says Tessa was dubbed in the editing room by another actress.”

Teddy waved it away. “Ignore it.”

“How can I ignore it? It’s a lie, blatant libel, and I won’t stand for it. Every line Tessa says in the movie is her and her alone.”

“Oh, don’t make that mistake,” Teddy said.

“What mistake?”

“Saying every line is hers. That just invites every sleazebag reporter in L.A. to go over the film with a fine-tooth comb. They’ll find someplace in the soundtrack where her voice had to be enhanced because it was being covered over by the sound of a gunshot, for instance, and point to it as proof that Centurion lied in its statement to the press.”

Ben exhaled an angry breath. “Damn it.”

“Hey, we’re big enough for people to take potshots at, and that’s a good thing.”

The intercom buzzed. “The police are here for Billy Barnett.”

“Excellent,” Teddy said. “Maybe they have news.”

Teddy went out and met the police in the hallway.

“Gentlemen. Any progress?”

“That’s not why we’re here. The crime scene was broken into last night.”

Teddy frowned. “That makes no sense.”

“Why not?”

“You already inspected the crime scene. What could anyone possibly want that you haven’t found?”

“We were hoping you could tell us.”

“Oh, come on, gentlemen. Just because the man tried to break into my house doesn’t mean I know the faintest thing about him. A petty thug tried to rob me. Aside from that, you know as much as I do.”

The cop extended a plastic evidence bag. “Do you recognize this?”

Teddy looked. Inside was his credit card receipt for lunch.

“Sure, I recognize it. It’s a credit card receipt for lunch. It’s my credit card, and I signed for it.”

“This receipt was found at the crime scene.”

“Today?”

“That’s right.”

“After the crime scene was broken into?”

“Yes.”

“Well, there you have it. Whoever broke into the crime scene left that receipt.”

“Wouldn’t you agree the most likely person is you?”

“Is it your contention that, eager to get a report on the murder, I broke into the crime scene and left my credit card receipt so that you guys would come and see me?”

“Don’t be facetious.”

“You find that absurd?”

“I certainly do.”

“Please give me a reason my credit card receipt would be at an obviously violated crime scene.”

“You dropped it looking for something.”

“Looking for what? Something incriminating? Can you think of anything more incriminating than this credit card receipt? Wow, good thing that’s gone, or I might have been in trouble.”

“That’s very clever, but it doesn’t account for this receipt. Do you have any explanation?”

“Obviously whoever hired this guy to break into my house planted the receipt to make trouble for me. Are you making any progress finding out who that might be?”

“That is not the focus of our investigation.”

“Focus? God, I hate that word. When the cops focus their investigation it means they have a fixed idea and they are ignoring everything else. I prefer words like broadening the scope. It tends to give one a fuller picture.”