W Is for Wasted

fair about this, Cheney. That’s what I’m getting at. I’m not demonizing the guy. I’m not even saying he did anything on purpose. He had a theory about Glucotace. When he ran into a roadblock, instead of shutting the study down, he changed the data or deleted it.”
    “Weak.”
    “I know it’s weak. Most of this is circumstantial, but don’t sit there telling me it doesn’t count.”
    “Speculation. No real basis in fact. You think doctors won’t stand together in a situation like this?”
    “Indulge me, okay?”
    He smiled. “I’m already doing that. This is me indulging you.”
    “Just listen. Ruthie found a wad of cash that Pete stashed away. Suppose Linton’s prints are on the bills? Wouldn’t that suggest I’m on track here?”
    “You’re grasping at straws. I don’t understand how we get from fraud to homicide.”
    “Easy. Pete jacked him up for money. Reed paid him once, but he didn’t want to pay again, so he killed him.”
    “Where’s the gun? Does Linton even own one?”
    “I have no idea.”
    “You don’t even know for sure Pete and Linton Reed knew each other.”
    “Oh, but I do. Pete met with Reed on July 12 out at UCST. I saw his name in the appointment book, and Ruthie has the properly validated parking ticket, so don’t be a shit.”
    “I am a shit. That’s my job. I’m telling you what will fly and what won’t. All a defense attorney has to do is come up with a plausible explanation. All he needs is a story that covers the same points but with a different slant. You make it look one way? Fine. He can make it look like something else. Right now, there’s no eyewitness and the motive is imaginary. Some guy says he’ll expose you, you tell him to take a hike. You don’t fork over a couple of thousand bucks and then shoot his ass.”
    I reached for the bag I had placed at my feet and took out the shrink-wrapped prescription bottle. “This is one of Dace’s prescriptions. He believed they put him on Glucotace, along with Antabuse and another drug to reduce his craving for nicotine. I asked Dr. Reed straight out if Dace was taking Glucotace or the placebo. He thought about it briefly and said placebo. Can’t you get these analyzed and find out what they are?”
    “Why would we do that? There’s no case.”
    “But if the pills turn out to be Glucotace, it would support my argument, wouldn’t it?”
    “Tenuous at best.”
    “You have a better theory? You even have a suspect? Because I’m offering both.”
    “I’m not saying you’re wrong. I’m saying I can’t sell this. The DA’s tough. She won’t file if she doesn’t think she’s got something solid under her feet.” I could see him turn the issue over in his mind. “Promise me your access to this information is legitimate.”
    “Of course.” I tucked the pills back into my bag.
    “No breaking and entering.”
    I raised a hand as though swearing an oath.
    “You never impersonated an officer.”
    “I didn’t impersonate anybody. When I talked to Willard, I said I was a former colleague of Pete’s, which is true. I gave him my business card, so no funny business there.”
    He shook his head. “An investigation like this would take months.”
    “I understand. Just let me know if anything new develops. That’s all I ask.”
    “Sure, but don’t hold your breath.”

34
    I didn’t hear from Cheney until the following Tuesday morning. “The Ruger’s registered to a man named Sanford Wray.”
    I don’t know what I thought he was going to say but it wasn’t that. “Who’s he?”
    “Film producer. He started out as a venture capitalist and he’s been involved with Hollywood for the past six years. He lives in Montebello and commutes when he has a project in the works. Jonah’s been filling in the blanks. Wray’s heavy into charities and he’s on half a dozen boards. Big cheese in town.”
    “Does he have a criminal history?”
    “Nope. His record’s clean.”
    “I never heard of the guy. Does the name mean anything to you?” I found myself pacing in front of my desk, telephone in hand.
    Cheney said, “Hollywood moguls aren’t high on my list. The last movie I saw was
Dirty Harry
, so Clint Eastwood’s it.”
    “How does Sanford Wray know Pete?”
    “Remains to be seen. We haven’t talked to him.”
    “When will you do that?”
    “Jonah’s checking to see if he’s in town. Once we track him down, we’ll pay him a visit and have a nice long chat.”
    “I’d love to be