ever pass the bar. Guess what?”
“He passed the bar.”
“He specialized in intellectual property. He knows the ins and outs. Let me tell you something, Lieutenant, it’s hard to get a judge to even listen to your case. Ninety-nine percent of these cases get thrown out on the first round. Primo let Rudy have a free ride for years just because it wasn’t worth it.”
“So what changed his mind?”
“Rudy put out a retrospective CD of the Doodoo Sluts without giving Primo, Liam, and Ryan — the other guys in the band — any money whatsoever. The three of them got together and sued. It stopped the release of the CD — at least temporarily — and so far, no one has made a penny except Rudy.”
“So what would happen if all three members died? Would Rudy get all the profits, or would it go to the estates of the members?”
“I have no idea.” She paused and smoked her cigarette. “Rudy is always suing someone or someone is suing him. It’s a way of life for him. Still, I don’t see him as having anything to do with Primo’s death.”
Another pause.
“Although I’m not quite sure that I buy the carjacking gone wrong thing.” She shook her head and regarded Decker’s eyes. “You don’t buy it, either. That’s why you’re here.”
“I’m just gathering information. Why don’t you buy it?”
“The death seemed calculated. I saw the interview tape of the punk… I guess he’s one of the punks. The kid sounded as if he couldn’t plan a fart after eating beans.”
“Do you remember the name of the interviewee you saw?”
“No. He was black.”
“Travis Martel.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Marilyn finished her cigarette and lit another. “But what do I know? In the meantime, I’m careful. If it wasn’t those jackasses, then maybe it was something more personal. So then maybe I should be looking over my shoulder.”
“Anyone specifically in mind?”
“No, and that’s why I’m nervous. The recording business attracts a whole lot of psychos. Some even have talent. It’s all marketing these days. What you sound like is irrelevant. It’s how you present.”
“I’m sure that’s true. How did Rudy meet Primo?”
“I don’t really know. I came into Primo’s life long after the split of the Doodoo Sluts. We met at AA. I’ve been sober for over five years. Primo, so far as I know, had been sober for a little longer, but who knows?”
“You think that Primo might have slipped up?”
She blew out smoke. “When I heard that this punk carjacked the Mercedes from Jonas Park, my first thought was: what the hell was Primo doing in a park in southeast L.A. alone at night. Almost immediately I answered my own question. He was probably sucking on a bottle or getting high.”
“Did you ask the coroner if he had alcohol or drugs in his blood?”
“Why would I bother doing that?” She stared at him. “It wasn’t what killed him… directly.”
“It would be interesting to know.”
“Yeah, it would explain why he gave up without a fight. If he was drunk or stoned, he probably didn’t know what was flying. As a sober guy, he could take care of himself.”
Decker wondered if a comprehensive toxic screen had been ordered at autopsy. He made a note to check it out.
“He was a really good producer. Not that anyone cared. The entire industry is in the throes of a shake-up. The CD is a dinosaur. Everything is downloaded from song-sharing sites. And lots of new groups are bypassing traditional producers and selling their own shit on the Internet. Primo’s jobs were fewer and fewer. If he had succumbed to drinking, I wouldn’t have been surprised.”
“And you said he would have probably resisted if he wasn’t drunk?”
“I didn’t know Primo when he drank. I don’t know if he was a mean drunk or not. As a man, I can tell you he was a good guy.” She blinked back tears. “If you find anything new, let me know.”
“I will. And I’d appreciate your keeping the conversation
“He passed the bar.”
“He specialized in intellectual property. He knows the ins and outs. Let me tell you something, Lieutenant, it’s hard to get a judge to even listen to your case. Ninety-nine percent of these cases get thrown out on the first round. Primo let Rudy have a free ride for years just because it wasn’t worth it.”
“So what changed his mind?”
“Rudy put out a retrospective CD of the Doodoo Sluts without giving Primo, Liam, and Ryan — the other guys in the band — any money whatsoever. The three of them got together and sued. It stopped the release of the CD — at least temporarily — and so far, no one has made a penny except Rudy.”
“So what would happen if all three members died? Would Rudy get all the profits, or would it go to the estates of the members?”
“I have no idea.” She paused and smoked her cigarette. “Rudy is always suing someone or someone is suing him. It’s a way of life for him. Still, I don’t see him as having anything to do with Primo’s death.”
Another pause.
“Although I’m not quite sure that I buy the carjacking gone wrong thing.” She shook her head and regarded Decker’s eyes. “You don’t buy it, either. That’s why you’re here.”
“I’m just gathering information. Why don’t you buy it?”
“The death seemed calculated. I saw the interview tape of the punk… I guess he’s one of the punks. The kid sounded as if he couldn’t plan a fart after eating beans.”
“Do you remember the name of the interviewee you saw?”
“No. He was black.”
“Travis Martel.”
“Yeah, that’s it.” Marilyn finished her cigarette and lit another. “But what do I know? In the meantime, I’m careful. If it wasn’t those jackasses, then maybe it was something more personal. So then maybe I should be looking over my shoulder.”
“Anyone specifically in mind?”
“No, and that’s why I’m nervous. The recording business attracts a whole lot of psychos. Some even have talent. It’s all marketing these days. What you sound like is irrelevant. It’s how you present.”
“I’m sure that’s true. How did Rudy meet Primo?”
“I don’t really know. I came into Primo’s life long after the split of the Doodoo Sluts. We met at AA. I’ve been sober for over five years. Primo, so far as I know, had been sober for a little longer, but who knows?”
“You think that Primo might have slipped up?”
She blew out smoke. “When I heard that this punk carjacked the Mercedes from Jonas Park, my first thought was: what the hell was Primo doing in a park in southeast L.A. alone at night. Almost immediately I answered my own question. He was probably sucking on a bottle or getting high.”
“Did you ask the coroner if he had alcohol or drugs in his blood?”
“Why would I bother doing that?” She stared at him. “It wasn’t what killed him… directly.”
“It would be interesting to know.”
“Yeah, it would explain why he gave up without a fight. If he was drunk or stoned, he probably didn’t know what was flying. As a sober guy, he could take care of himself.”
Decker wondered if a comprehensive toxic screen had been ordered at autopsy. He made a note to check it out.
“He was a really good producer. Not that anyone cared. The entire industry is in the throes of a shake-up. The CD is a dinosaur. Everything is downloaded from song-sharing sites. And lots of new groups are bypassing traditional producers and selling their own shit on the Internet. Primo’s jobs were fewer and fewer. If he had succumbed to drinking, I wouldn’t have been surprised.”
“And you said he would have probably resisted if he wasn’t drunk?”
“I didn’t know Primo when he drank. I don’t know if he was a mean drunk or not. As a man, I can tell you he was a good guy.” She blinked back tears. “If you find anything new, let me know.”
“I will. And I’d appreciate your keeping the conversation
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