then I said, “You know, Farzad, I’d still like to make an offer. That is if you still plan on selling the house. It would be perfect for me and my family.”
He waggled his head in something between a nod anda shrug. “Well, we’ll see how all this pans out. Perhaps you will figure out who murdered poor Alicia, and Felix will be so grateful that he’ll sell you the house!”
My plan exactly! “Perhaps,” I said. “I’ll do my best.”
Nine
W HEN I told Al about Harvey Brodsky’s call, and about the possibility of us receiving a lucrative contract from him, Al expressed a momentary excitement. I felt terrible when I was forced to explain that it all hinged on how we did with the Felix murder.
“It’s most likely a sex crime, Juliet! We aren’t qualified to investigate a murder like that.”
“I know.”
“You solve those crimes forensically!”
“I know.”
“With teams of detectives, crime scene experts, medical examiners!”
“I know.”
“Not two people operating out of a garage!”
“I know.”
He sighed.
I pulled over to the side of Melrose Avenue. This was nota conversation I could have while driving. “We don’t have to solve the crime,” I said. “Our job is to help Felix and Farzad navigate through the system. You know, be their representatives to the police. That kind of thing.”
He sighed again.
“That’s what Brodsky’s interested in! Not if we solve the murder or not. He can’t possibly expect that.”
“Let’s hope not,” he said.
“Hey, how’d that meeting with the insurance company go?”
“They offered me a job.”
“Great! A paying client!”
“No. They don’t want the agency. They want me to go work for them. To head up their investigation unit.”
“Oh.” My stomach sank. Was it all going to end like this? “Oh. Well, then this whole Brodsky thing isn’t really important, is it?”
“I turned them down.”
“You did what?”
“I turned them down. I don’t want to work in some office with some vice president breathing down my neck. I’ve had enough of that.”
“You’d rather work out of your rat-infested garage?”
“Damn right I would. What, do you want me to take the job? Are you trying to weasel out of our partnership?”
“No! No!” I said.
“Good. You’re stuck with me, lady.”
I smiled and merged back into traffic. After Al and I hung up, I called Peter. The first thing he did was fill me in on the state of the neighbor’s construction.
“Jackhammering. All day. I’m losing my mind.”
“I’m so sorry, honey. We’ll move. Soon. I promise.”
“God, I hope so. Anyway, we’re on our way to the Santa Monica pier to ride the carousel.”
I was free to continue my perambulations around the city. I’d been sure that my husband would not approve of my plan to investigate Alicia’s murder, but to my surprise he was remarkably easy going about my efforts. He merely wished me luck, and reminded me that my first priority was to find us a new house. I don’t think he thought much of my chances of parlaying an investigation into a house purchase. But he hadn’t been out in the real estate trenches like I had. He didn’t know just how little there was out there.
I took surface streets over to Franklin’s, hoping that I’d find Moira at work. I debated calling the restaurant first, but decided that the benefit of a surprise appearance outweighed any inconvenience of schlepping all the way to Hollywood. I was more likely to catch Alicia’s friend in a gregarious mood if I caught her unawares.
Franklin’s is one of those dives that for some reason periodically becomes fashionable among Hollywood’s almost-elite. The place certainly has a seedy charm to it, with the cracked vinyl booths and Formica counter. But the food isn’t much to speak of, and the listless snobbery of the wait staff has always made it and other restaurants of its ilk something of a turnoff to me. It’s not that I don’t feel sorry for
He waggled his head in something between a nod anda shrug. “Well, we’ll see how all this pans out. Perhaps you will figure out who murdered poor Alicia, and Felix will be so grateful that he’ll sell you the house!”
My plan exactly! “Perhaps,” I said. “I’ll do my best.”
Nine
W HEN I told Al about Harvey Brodsky’s call, and about the possibility of us receiving a lucrative contract from him, Al expressed a momentary excitement. I felt terrible when I was forced to explain that it all hinged on how we did with the Felix murder.
“It’s most likely a sex crime, Juliet! We aren’t qualified to investigate a murder like that.”
“I know.”
“You solve those crimes forensically!”
“I know.”
“With teams of detectives, crime scene experts, medical examiners!”
“I know.”
“Not two people operating out of a garage!”
“I know.”
He sighed.
I pulled over to the side of Melrose Avenue. This was nota conversation I could have while driving. “We don’t have to solve the crime,” I said. “Our job is to help Felix and Farzad navigate through the system. You know, be their representatives to the police. That kind of thing.”
He sighed again.
“That’s what Brodsky’s interested in! Not if we solve the murder or not. He can’t possibly expect that.”
“Let’s hope not,” he said.
“Hey, how’d that meeting with the insurance company go?”
“They offered me a job.”
“Great! A paying client!”
“No. They don’t want the agency. They want me to go work for them. To head up their investigation unit.”
“Oh.” My stomach sank. Was it all going to end like this? “Oh. Well, then this whole Brodsky thing isn’t really important, is it?”
“I turned them down.”
“You did what?”
“I turned them down. I don’t want to work in some office with some vice president breathing down my neck. I’ve had enough of that.”
“You’d rather work out of your rat-infested garage?”
“Damn right I would. What, do you want me to take the job? Are you trying to weasel out of our partnership?”
“No! No!” I said.
“Good. You’re stuck with me, lady.”
I smiled and merged back into traffic. After Al and I hung up, I called Peter. The first thing he did was fill me in on the state of the neighbor’s construction.
“Jackhammering. All day. I’m losing my mind.”
“I’m so sorry, honey. We’ll move. Soon. I promise.”
“God, I hope so. Anyway, we’re on our way to the Santa Monica pier to ride the carousel.”
I was free to continue my perambulations around the city. I’d been sure that my husband would not approve of my plan to investigate Alicia’s murder, but to my surprise he was remarkably easy going about my efforts. He merely wished me luck, and reminded me that my first priority was to find us a new house. I don’t think he thought much of my chances of parlaying an investigation into a house purchase. But he hadn’t been out in the real estate trenches like I had. He didn’t know just how little there was out there.
I took surface streets over to Franklin’s, hoping that I’d find Moira at work. I debated calling the restaurant first, but decided that the benefit of a surprise appearance outweighed any inconvenience of schlepping all the way to Hollywood. I was more likely to catch Alicia’s friend in a gregarious mood if I caught her unawares.
Franklin’s is one of those dives that for some reason periodically becomes fashionable among Hollywood’s almost-elite. The place certainly has a seedy charm to it, with the cracked vinyl booths and Formica counter. But the food isn’t much to speak of, and the listless snobbery of the wait staff has always made it and other restaurants of its ilk something of a turnoff to me. It’s not that I don’t feel sorry for
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