Page 129 - Labelle Gramercy, On the Case

Soaked to the Bone

been beating down the doors lately, eager to invest in the next
blockbuster. If the studio can bankroll a film with someone else’s
money while maintaining creative control—I mean, of the
accounting, not the production—then marginal people like Fish can
pitch an idea that otherwise wouldn’t get past the guards at Troglo’s
gate. Maybe Nick stumbled onto the key to G.F.’s scam, assuming
Chip off the Block was never a viable project. I don’t know enough of
the nuts-and-bolts details of the financing and the contracts to say.
Nick, as an old hand in the political games played in this arena, might
have known. Other than that, I have no idea how he supported the
legal components of his very conspicuous consumption on a studio
flack’s salary, much less the bad habits and the nest egg overseas.”
The policewoman actually stopped to think for a heartbeat or two
(mine, not hers; I had no empirical evidence she possessed the
requisite pump within her steel ribcage).
“Fine. That is what I needed. Let’s go. I will not bring any of this
up immediately. When I do, you may leave the room.”
May? I didn’t want to be anywhere near such an interview; no
coaxing would be needed to get me away from it. Again I
accompanied her like a lamb to the slaughter, this time into the living
room and a corner of Fish’s sectional sofa. Nick was flanked by two
uniformed officers. Nobody smiled. Not even Nick when he glanced
despondently into my familiar face. Well, I was there to make it easier
for everyone, including him. So I smiled.
“Hi, Nick. Terrible news about G.F., isn’t it?”
A small flicker of hope illumined his drained, strained and pained
visage.
“Cora. Are they holding you, too? Can’t you do anything to
convince these people that we would have no reason to harm Mr.
Fish? I’m having no luck.”
“Nick, this is Lieutenant Gramercy. She’s in charge of the
investigation. I don’t think anything is conclusive yet. If we answer
their questions honestly, and we weren’t involved, then I think we’ll
be sleeping in our own beds tonight.”
I didn’t believe that for a second. But maybe he didn’t know that
she knew what I knew and a whole lot more.
“Oh. Well, perhaps I have been a little too uncooperative. I’ll
admit I have trouble believing that the innocent have nothing to fear,

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