Salvador walked around behind the desk, leaned down and kissed the air next to Adelaide’s cheek. He then turned toward Caesar. The pompous look he gave revealed to Caesar his thoughts. Caesar wasn’t someone who could advance Salvador’s career or make him a million bucks.
Salvador’s first words where brusque and flew out of his mouth rapid fire. “Who is he?”
“Meet Detective Caesar Garcia, LAPD,” Adelaide said.
Caesar stood and held out his hand across the desk.
“I see,” Salvador said. He ignored the hand, walked around the desk, and took the other chair opposite Adelaide. “And what does he want?”
The detective felt as disregarded as a telephone call on hold. Caesar had met many rude people in his day but this guy had begun to emerge as the front runner for the asshole-of-the-year award—and the Oscar goes to … He looked down on the short man and said, “One of your actresses has gone missing.”
“Are you pitching a script?” he laughed. “That’s been way over done, don’t you think Adie?”
Caesar noticed Adelaide slip a not-so-discreet smile at Mr. Sliman but he continued to direct his statements to the boorish man. “No, I’m not pitching anything of the sort, I’m investigating a disappearance.”
“Ah, you must have me confused with David Copperfield,” Salvador said, and winked at Adelaide as if he needed her approval.
“No, sir, I do not.”
Salvador turned his eyes up to the detective’s, and asked, “Well, do you think I’ve misplaced this, this person?”
“Excuse me sir but you don’t even know who’s missing yet, do you?” It was all he could do to control the spittle on his tongue from spewing onto Salvador’s thick glasses, not that it would have bothered him in the least.
“No, it seems you have failed to tell me.” His tone changed from jovial to disdain. “Do you know, Adie? I don’t have time for twenty questions. Whom, may I inquire has disappeared?”
Caesar neared his last thread of patience. He looked at Adelaide Masters-Leigh and watched her face turn into a smirk. It seemed she enjoyed the Paso Doble Salvador and Caesar danced but he grew weary. Time was being wasted. “You may know her as Natalie Beaumont. She had a scene on your set two days ago with Ansell Parker.”
“With Ansell?” he asked, reflectively. “I seem to remember that. Yes, he did something not in the script. Hum, let me see, yes that little piss ant kissed her.” Then, with a turn of his attention to Adelaide, he continued with a wink, “What could I do, I kept it in.”
“Well, I’ll be forced to do something not in the script if it you don’t start giving me some straight answers. How does a parade in front of the press sound to you on your way to headquarters? That can be arranged faster than you can say ‘hocus pocus.’ The girl is missing, presumed abducted and raped. One of the last places she was seen was on your set, and the longer you delay, the more likely it is she ends up dead, if she’s not already.”
“Okay, okay. You don’t have to get in a snit,” Salvador conceded. He turned his face up to the detective and with a smile, continued, “By-the-way, have you ever thought of becoming an actor? The way you delivered that line and—”
“Mr. Sliman, please!” Detective Garcia interrupted. He held out the photo of the three men.
“Ahem, yes, of course,” he said, and took the picture “Let me see. Ah yes, I recognize this one. I don’t recall his name, but he works at the studio. Yes, he did lighting that day. Wait you must know him Adie, surely, he’s on the studio’s payroll.”
“The picture is hard for me to see,” she said. “It’s so fuzzy, like it’s out of focus.”
“Well, it may not be a great picture, but isn’t he your nephew?”
Caesar saw Adelaide hit Salvador with a hateful glance. At first this whole act made no sense. Since Salvador might know the boy and his relationship to Adelaide, why would she call him in rather than just give up the name earlier. Then, he realized it was because she didn’t want it said she had revealed anything about her sibling’s kid. She had banked on Salvador’s discretion to give up the name without disclosing her relationship. Exasperated, Caesar shot her a contemptuous look.
“One more delay in this investigation and I’m arresting you for obstruction of justice, aiding and abetting a fugitive and anything else I think might stick.”
“His name is Rudy Valencia,” she said, with a resigned tone, “my late sister’s son. I don’t know who the others are. Please can you keep this connection out of the press?”
“One of the others is named Tony Alonso,” Caesar said and disregarded her question for the moment, “does that name mean anything?”
Both Adelaide and Salvador shook their heads and looked at the floor like two children caught with their hands in the cookie jar.
“I’ve seen this other one around the studio,” Salvador replied and pointed to the older man with the soul patch, “but I have no idea what his name is. We have a number of companies who provide contractors. He could be one of them.”
“The third man is reportedly named Hank. I don’t suppose that jogs any memories?”
Adelaide and Salvador looked at him expressionless.
“I can’t promise that I’ll keep this out of the press,” he said, and focused his glare on Adelaide. “I’m much more concerned about Natalie’s safety than saving your reputation or causing a rift in your family. I wish I could say you’ve been most cooperative, but that would be untruthful, wouldn’t it?” The sarcasm gave a moment’s reprieve to his desire to cuff them together and lead them to his car. He took two business cards out of his shirt pocket and laid them on her desk. “If you think of anything else that could help this girl, please call me.”
He didn’t wait for a reply but spun toward the door. His shoes pounded the carpet like a mallet on a kettle drum. He couldn’t retreat fast enough to abandon the two to simmer in their own ignominy.
_____
©
Jearl Rugh 2012
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