The Money Shot Page 5

  “I have a widespread network of surveillance equipment and personnel, and I like to keep tabs on you. I might need you someday.”

  “Or vice versa.”

  “What are you saying?”

  “A little matter’s come up. I could use your assistance.”

  “My assistance?”

  “Well, the assistance of your widespread network of surveillance equipment and personnel. I’m looking for a young man by the name of Nigel Hightower the Third, reportedly here in L.A.”

  “You can’t find him yourself?”

  “Hey, I’m a movie star. I’ve got my hands full.”

  “Ah, the price of fame.”

  “Fuck you, Mike. I’m one guy juggling multiple identities and trying to help Peter Barrington make a picture. This Hightower thing is a favor for a friend. It’s important, and I need it done fast.”

  “My firm’s in New York. You think I’m the best man for the job?”

  “I know you are.”

  “You want to tell me why this is so important?”

  “No.”

  “Suit yourself. Say hi to Peter for me.”

  “I won’t be telling him.”

  “It’s like that, is it?”

  “Don’t jump to any conclusions.”

  “I never do.”

  “Call me as soon as you find him.”

  “What makes you think we will?”

  “I have a gut feeling.”

  19

  Teddy was crouching on a ledge outside a fourteenth-story hotel room window when Mike called back. Luckily his cell phone was on vibrate or he might have ruined the shot. He was also lucky they were filming on the soundstage on the back lot of Centurion Studios and he wasn’t the main focus. The ledge he was crouching on was part of the set they had built to shoot the hotel room scene between Tessa and Brad. Teddy was literally window dressing. He could occasionally be seen in the background ducking down in the window if Brad or Tessa came his way. The actual scene of Teddy on the ledge, plus his perilous climb to get there, would be filmed on location on the fourteenth floor of a hotel in downtown L.A. A call during the sequence would have been really inconvenient.

  Teddy called back while Peter was giving notes between takes. Peter always gave notes between takes. Brad was the type of actor who needed notes.

  “What’s up, Mike?”

  “A young man answering the description of Nigel Hightower the Third has a habit of getting high on coke and leaving most if not all of his bankroll in an illegal hold ’em club in Chinatown.”

  “How’d you find that out?”

  “You don’t want to know.”

  “I’m paying for it.”

  “That’s why you don’t.”

  “Now you’ve made me suspicious, Mike. What’s going on?”

  “My men are out canvassing, touching base with their informants, and a hooker happened to recognize him. She said the kid had paid for her company of an evening, but was so high on coke he couldn’t cut the mustard, if you know what I mean.”

  “Where did the hooker make the acquaintance of this young man?”

  “At an underground club—both figuratively and literally. Ringtone Lee’s place, in the basement under a noodle shop.”

  “‘Ringtone’?”

  “I assume it’s a nickname, but apparently there is such a guy. Anyway, we got him. Nigel plays every Friday night. I’ll put triple coverage on him and follow him home.”

  “No,” Teddy said.

  Mike was surprised. “No?”

  “Don’t follow him home. Pull everybody off him. When he leaves that club, I don’t want an agent anywhere near the place.”

  “Uh-oh,” Mike said.

  20

  Nigel Hightower III was winning, which was not unusual. Nigel often won in the beginning, before flushing his entire wad of cash on an ill-considered bet. But tonight he’d been winning steadily for hours, and built his original stack of two thousand dollars up to five. Visions of moving into more desirable living quarters danced in his head. Sure, he owed the landlord six months’ rent, but that was under the name of Harvey Wilson, and if that notable deadbeat were to skip town, who would even think twice about it? He’d be able to afford fifteen hundred bucks for a sham ID and credit rating, and he could make a new start. After all, didn’t everyone deserve a new start?

  Nigel hit pocket threes and limped into the pot. If he hit on the flop he could clean up; if he missed, all he lost was the big blind. The game was dollar, two, no-limit, so he was basically risking two dollars for the chance to mint money.

  Nigel hit a third three on the flop. He checked, slow-playing the hand, cunningly lying in wait for the money to come in.

  It did. Two players bet up the pot. One folded after the turn.

  The other guy, who had just bought into the game with a huge stack, made a big bet on the river.

  Nigel went all in and he called.

  The son of a bitch had a straight.

  Nigel had him covered, which meant he had more money than his opponent, but not much. After paying him off, Nigel had only a hundred and eighty dollars left. He could have kept playing, but it had taken him a long time to build up his stack, and a hundred and eighty dollars was hardly enough to buy in. Not when he was angry enough to shove it on the first hand.

  Nigel knew better than to make a scene. It was not done. If you lost, it was no one’s fault, just the luck of the draw. You accepted the outcome, or you didn’t come back. Nigel remembered the schmuck who had lost five hundred dollars on a single hand and had smashed a glass. Ringtone Lee’s bouncer didn’t look like much, but the man was fast. The asshole was out the door before he knew what hit him.

  So even with the nagging suspicion in his mind that Ringtone Lee had sent the guy who won the pot into the game to take him down, Nigel wasn’t about to complain. It didn’t matter. Nigel was playing great and a high roller was just another chance to double his chips.

  Or lose them all.

  The bouncer led Nigel out and walked him up the long, narrow stairs to the street. The basement steps would have been heaven for muggers, who might be waiting outside the battered metal door. Not that players leaving Ringtone Lee’s often had much money, but even so.

  Tonight there were no muggers to shoo away. The bouncer took a look around the back lot where the players’ cars were parked, and went back in.

  Nigel dug his keys out of his pocket. Now that he was alone, the only thing that kept him from flipping out entirely was the thought that there might be surveillance cameras in the lot.

  There weren’t. Teddy Fay had checked that out. There were no cameras, no guard, no security system of any type.

  When Nigel opened the door of his car, Teddy stepped up and plunged a hypodermic needle into his neck.

  21

  Nigel came to on the floor. It was moving and bumping somewhat, which was what had jostled him awake. Groggy and disoriented, he blinked and opened his eyes.

  Teddy was sitting in a seat looking down at him. “Well, well. Look who decided to join the party.”

  “Where am I?”

  Teddy shrugged. “I have no idea. That’s the thing with autopilot. You don’t really have to pay attention.”

  “Huh?”

  “You’re in a private jet. I can’t tell you exactly where you are, but you’re flying at fifteen thousand feet at five hundred miles per hour. Do you know what happens when you open the cabin door at that speed? More to the point, do you know what happens when a person plummets to the earth from a height of over two miles? Neither do I. Colleges are strict about grant money, and it’s hard to get volunteers. However, it goes by rather quickly. You can calculate it by the formula for falling objects, though the odds are by the time you reach a solution it will no longer be of any use to you.”

 
“What do you want?”

  “What’s your name?”

  “Nigel Hightower.”

  “What do you do, Nigel?”

  “I’m an investor.”

  Teddy scoffed. “An investor? You’re a rich prick. You spend what Daddy gives you and hustle the rest.”

  “Now, see here—”

  “Did you go to Oxford?”

  “Yes.”

  “You knew Tessa Tweed?”

  “Oh.”

  “You’re a real schmuck, aren’t you? Filmed your girlfriend without her knowledge. I suppose you saw that as a harmless prank. Then you told her you destroyed it, but you kept a copy. I suppose that was just for you to look at. At least at first, until she became famous. Then you started showing it around.”

  “No.”

  “No? Then I wonder what we’re doing here. I take it you aren’t the one using the tape to pressure her?”

  “No!”

  “Who is?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “But you do. He’s got that tape, and you’re the only source. At least I hope you’re the only source . . . or did you share it with anyone else?”

  “No, no, of course not.”

  “Then it had to have come from you. Damned by your own ethics. Strange word to apply to you. Ethics. Have you got any ethics, Nigel? You had a girlfriend in college who’s a film star now, who you can’t help bragging about. You wouldn’t blackmail her with that film, would you?”

  “Of course not.”

  “But you’d let someone else do it.”

  “No, I—”

  “You’re a loser, Nigel, and you’ve always been a loser. A loser needs a stake. A guy says to you, ‘You give me that tape, I’ll give you twenty thousand dollars. You don’t give me that tape, I’ll break your thumbs.’ Well, your thumbs aren’t broken, Nigel. What do you have to say for yourself?”

  “Ten thousand.”

  “What?”

  “It was only ten thousand.”

  “Who gave you the money?”

  “I tell you, I don’t know.”

  “You’ve told me a lot of things, Nigel, and some of them might be true. With you it’s hard to tell. So, last chance to stay in the plane. I want a name. Give me a name, Nigel.”

  Nigel looked like he was about to cry. “I don’t know.”

  “What did the guy look like?”

  “There’s no guy,” Nigel cried.

  “Then you’re the guy, Nigel. If there’s no guy, you’re him.”

  “There’s a guy,” Nigel said. “I never met him. I came back to the car and there was a manila envelope on the front seat. I don’t know how, the car was locked, but there it was. There was a thousand bucks inside, and a note.”

  “What did it say?”

  “I still have it.” Nigel scrunched around on the plane floor and dug into his hip pocket. He pulled out a folded paper. He unfolded it and read, “‘Use this thousand to play tomorrow night. Leave this manila envelope with the video on the front seat. When you cash out, the video will be gone, and you will find another nine thousand in the envelope. If you do not comply with these instructions, I will assume you have stolen one thousand dollars from me, and act accordingly. Leaving the money in the envelope would not relieve you of your obligation. I will assume you are taunting me with your stolen goods, and act accordingly.’”

  “You did what the letter said?”

  “Wouldn’t you?”

  “I find it hard to put myself in the position of someone who would have abused his girlfriend in the first place. Tell me, was this the same night you were shooting your mouth off around the club?”

  “I didn’t say I was shooting my mouth off around the club.”

  “You did, though, didn’t you? Because you were nursing a bad loss and you wanted to make yourself feel better. So you said, ‘Well, I may not be lucky in cards, but guess what?’”

  “How do you know what I said?”

  “Because you’re not as cool as you think you are, even for a loser.” Teddy cocked his head. “Well, it would appear you are of no further use to me. I’m going back to the cockpit to strap myself in. The plane tends to buck around a little when the cabin door’s open.”

  Nigel was frantic. “Wait! Wait!”

  “What?”

  “I told you what you wanted to know.”

  “Yes.”

  “So you’re going to let me go.”

  Teddy pretended to consider. “Okay, here’s what you’re going to do. You’re never going to mention the video again. If you have any copies, you’re going to destroy them. You’re not going back to the hold ’em club. In fact, you’re going to leave town, and you’re not coming back until I clean up this mess you created. You can give me your cell phone number, and I’ll let you know. Do we have a deal?”

  Nigel nodded his head vigorously.

  Teddy shrugged. “Too bad.” He gestured to the door. “You could have joined the mile-high club.”

  22

  Teddy dressed himself up as an asshole, a rich old guy trying to make himself look cool with long hair and casual clothes, but whose two-thousand-dollar corduroy jacket sort of gave the thing away. So did the Mercedes-Benz he borrowed off the Centurion back lot.

  Teddy parked behind the noodle shop and rang the bell beside the battered iron door to the basement. Ringtone Lee’s bouncer pushed the door open a minute later. His look was not welcoming.

  Teddy stuffed two hundreds into his hand and said, “Get me a seat at the table.”

  The bouncer considered that. The money disappeared into his pocket. He turned Teddy around and patted him down for a weapon. Finding none, he said, “You got cash?”

  Teddy jerked his thumb at the guy’s pocket. “That was sort of a hint.”

  “If you’re a wise guy, we don’t want you.”

  Teddy jerked a wad of cash out of his pants pocket. “You want me.”

  There were seven guys already at the table. Teddy sat down and made eight. He began to lose, which wasn’t easy, as they weren’t very good.

  Teddy called the pot with a hand he knew would lose and cursed his luck. “Not my night. I should have gone out instead—I could have gotten laid.”

  “Yeah, sure,” the guy across the table from him said. He was a snotty son of a bitch, snide to everybody. Teddy would have loved to take him down. But he wasn’t Teddy’s target.

  The guy he wanted was the little guy to his right whose ears pricked up when Teddy said, “You wouldn’t believe who I’m going out with.”

  “She got two legs or four?” the snotty guy said.

  Teddy didn’t answer, just let the matter drop.

  The little man bit. “So who is it?”

  “An absolute knockout. You might recognize her.”

  “She’s famous?”

  “She’s done lingerie ads.”

  “Oh. So I wouldn’t recognize her name?”

  “Maybe not.”

  “You’re saying I might recognize her face?”

  “Among other things,” the snotty guy said.

  The little guy lost interest. He also lost money. Teddy busted him, which wasn’t hard. He sucked him in, set him up. The guy didn’t have much to begin with, but after Teddy began to work on him his pile went fast. He lost all his chips and cashed out.

  So did Teddy. The other players couldn’t believe he was leaving. He hadn’t been there that long.

  “You win one pot and walk away,” the snide guy said. “I can’t stand players like that. Quit as soon as they’re up, and say they won. You gonna go brag about it?”

  Teddy wished he had time to knock him down a peg.

  * * *

  —

  Teddy caught the little man in the parking lot. He was surprised to see Tedd
y. “You cashed out, too?”

  “I came out to give you back your money.”

  The little guy was dumbfounded. “What?”

  “I felt bad taking it. You’re a terrible player, you must lose all the time. I figure you must have another source of income.”

  “Now, see here—”

  “Of course, if you’re too proud to accept the money, I quite understand, but you and I are going to have a little talk.”

  “No, we’re not.”

  “Oh yes, we are,” Teddy said. “Now, they patted me down for a weapon, but I don’t really need one, do I?”

  The little man’s mind was totally blown. He blinked at Teddy.

  “You perked up at my dating-a-celebrity story like you just caught aces in the hole. And your disappointment when it wasn’t worth shit was almost comical. You were hoping it was something you could turn a profit with. Like that British kid who once dated a movie star.”

  Once again, the little guy’s face betrayed him.

  “See, that’s why you’re such a bad player,” Teddy said. “You have a million tells. So who’d you sell the info to? And don’t be coy. One way or another, you’re going to tell me.”

  “There’s a private eye I pass tips on to. If one pans out, he slips me money.”

  “I thought there might be. What’s his name?”

  “Ace Vargas.”

  “Ace?” Teddy said. “Is his name really Ace?”

  “Sure. Ace Detective Agency.”

  “You told him about this kid?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You told him the kid’s name?”

  “I didn’t have his name.”

  “Remarkable. Another tell. You gave him the name of the movie star. Who was it?”

  “Tessa Tweed.”

  “Uh-huh. And why was this information worth so much money?”

  “It just was.”

  “Bullshit. That nugget isn’t worth a dime. What else did the kid tell you that made it worthwhile?”

  “He said he filmed himself with her.”

  “Having sex?”

  “Yeah.”