Celebrity in Death

looked up, into her eyes. “I’d say this event was in motion, and that there was very likely nothing you could have said to stop that motion. I’m sorry you lost a friend.”
    “Will you notify me about his body, its disposition? He’s got a couple of ex-wives, no kids. I don’t think either of his exes would be interested in seeing to that. He had a lot of friends. I think we could pool together, take care of him.”
    “I’ll let you know.” She started to the door, stopped. “What are you doing in this place, Bobbie?”
    “Kind of a dump, huh?” he said as he looked around. “But it’s my dump. I did a couple years as a PD. It’s necessary work, but you don’t get a choice. This may not be much, but I get to choose my clients, when I get one.”
    “Good luck. I’ll be in touch.”
    Outside Peabody took a gulp of air. “She was really broken up. I got the impression she thought of him as sort of an honorary uncle. She didn’t have anything, Dallas. Nothing she didn’t give us yesterday.”
    “Bobbie might have.” On the drive to the studio, she gave Peabody the rundown.
    “It pretty much confirms, hypothetically, that he was trying to sell the recording. Or maybe after he heard his client got dead, just give it over.”
    “And his interested party found killing easier the second time. Stupid, and greedy. It looks like he saw another big windfall, all for one job of work. Wanted to pad his retirement fund. Now he’s retired, permanently.”
    “The killer must have the recording. If Asner took him or her to the office, the recording must have been in the office.”
    “We search his apartment. He might’ve been in negotiation mode in the office, still feeling it out. I had the uniforms go over and seal it. We need to check with the night shift at the restaurant, the bar.” Fat chance, Eve thought, but shrugged. “We could get lucky.”
    “This isn’t over a sex recording of a couple of single actors breaking no laws or moral codes.”
    “You’re right about that. It’s a power struggle turned very nasty. It’s about greed, obsession, and a need to control. About eliminating obstacles or problems.”
    “Back to it being almost any one of them. If the killer wanted the recording—whatever the reason—and it was in Asner’s possession at the time of the murder, he’d had enough time to destroy it, lock it up, make a million copies. Whatever, again, the reason.”
    “Yeah,” Eve said, and began to think about it.
    A n assistant to somebody’s assistant met them at Security and escorted them through the labyrinth to a soundstage where a set had been dressed as the conference room in Eve’s home. There, in reality ayear before, they had interviewed the three clones known as Avril Icove.
    In the observation area, Marlo and Andi enacted a tense, emotional scene between Eve and Mira. Roundtree cut, retook, and cut again, pushing them both. At the end of a take Marlo walked to the observation glass, stared through, face set.
    At nothing Eve could see. She supposed that would be added with vid magic. Julian walked in, and to her so they both looked through the glass.
    “And cut! Perfect. Let’s reset for reaction shots.”
    Now Eve stepped forward. “I need you to hold on that.”
    Roundtree turned, scowled at her with the expression of a man deep in his work and unwilling to surface. “Five minutes while we reset. Preston—”
    “I’m going to need more than that.”
    “If you need to ask questions, again, ask one of us who isn’t trying to
work.
We’ve lost one of our cast members, we have the media and the paparazzi
and
the goddamn cops crawling up our asses. I’m going to finish this scene before—”
    “You’re going to have the media, the paparazzi, the goddamn cops—especially me—crawling up your asses for a little while longer. There’s been another murder.”
    The fury on Roundtree’s face died off into sick dread, while others on the set reacted with gasps, mutters, and oaths.
    “Who?” he demanded, looking around swiftly, like a father doing a head count of his brood. “Who’s been killed?”
    “A. A. Asner, a private investigator.”
    Something like relief chased with annoyance took over, face, voice, the sweeping gesture of his hand. “What the hell does that have to do with any of us?”
    “Considerable. Now we can arrange for me and my partner to interview the individuals we feel pertain in a manner that causes the least amount of time and