Star Power
"It's not that I mind homicides," Lennie said as he and Rey got out of their car, "After all that's how I pay my ex-wives' alimony, but why do so many of them have to be so late at night?"
Rey just chuckled lightly and remarked, "Murder doesn't take a holiday, Lennie, it's a 24 hour occurrence."
"24 hours doesn't mean they have to be all in a row you know," Lennie replied.
It was going on two o' clock in the morning and the night club they pulled up in front of had a massive crowd gathered round. Lennie looked up at the neon sign, 'The Black Raven', catchy…maybe kinky as well, he didn't know, he hadn't been inside yet. The block was colored in flashing reds and blues from the surrounding police cars and ambulances that had gotten onto the scene before them. Amidst all the cops and paramedics were the club goers, and some passersby from the immediate surrounding area, trying to figure out what had happened.
"Let's go see what happened this time," Lennie said.
They walked up to the unis on the scene and got a tour over to the corner past the club, where a body lay on the pavement covered by a sheet.
"What're we looking at here?" Rey asked.
The sheet was lifted so they could get a look at the victim for themselves as one of the unis explained, "Shooting gone good, three bullets and he's gone, unfortunately so is the shooter and the gun as far as we can tell, though we just started canvassing." The man was large, probably just over 6 feet tall, probably somewhere over 200 pounds, he looked strong, he looked mean, and right now he was looking very dead, his shirt soaked in blood which had leaked out to the pavement beneath him as well.
"Random shooting?" Lennie asked as the body was re-covered with the sheet.
"Ah…we're still working on that. Everybody heard the shooting but nobody really saw anything, nobody got a good look at the shooter, only saw that these two were having some words, one shot the other and took off. Guy's name is Oswald Cain, 56 years old, you know who that is?" one of the young cops asked.
"Should we?" Lennie asked, a bit dumbstruck.
"Heard of his son, Jimmy Cain?" the cop asked.
"Should we?" Lennie asked, even more dumbstruck.
"I heard of him," Rey said, "Not quite a rags to riches story. After finishing college, this guy got lucky on some small time gambling, then invested it and played the stock market, got lucky again, reinvested it in a film company a friend of his was starting, he became co-owner and a self made multi-millionaire before he was 25 years old."
"Must be good movies," Lennie commented in a deadpan manner.
"I took my daughters to see one of them last summer, they're all relatively family friendly."
"That explains it, that's where the real money is," Lennie slightly nodded, "Why complain about screaming kids at the latest R rated movie when you can take them all to see The Lion King and shut them up?"
"Not like that, Lennie, you ever see any of those screwball movies Disney made in the 70s?" Rey asked.
"Only about 500 of them," Lennie replied, "That was one thing I was around for when my daughters were growing up."
"I think they're trying to bring back that kind of formula mixed with more current stuff," Rey said, "Jimmy's also become a star in his own films over the last couple years, apparently the girls like to look at him."
"I guess that means some of the boys do too," Lennie noted.
The young uniformed cop told Rey, "Jimmy Cain was here tonight."
"When his father was shot?"
"Yeah, he's still here, being questioned."
"What's he say?" Lennie asked.
"Ain't said much, I think he's in shock," the cop told them.
"Where is he?" Rey asked.
The cop pointed and the two homicide detectives thanked him and decided to head on over to talk to the young man themselves. They made their way through the crowd and paramedics and other policemen and came face to face with Jimmy Cain, 31 years old, still looked hardly old enough to drive: tall, lean, baby face, bright baby blue eyes, dark hair, dressed in a suit more suitable for a formal occasion than a night club, and right now he looked like nothing more than a little kid scared out of his shoes by what was going on. He stood not 20 feet away from his father's body and had his eyes positioned on the body under the sheet.
"Mr. Cain?" Lennie said as they approached him.
No response.
"Jimmy!" Rey called.
That got his attention, the young man looked up and saw them for the first time.
"Detectives Briscoe and Curtis, we need to talk to you about your father," Lennie said.
The first words out of the young man's mouth weren't what they expected.
"He…he's really dead, isn't he?"
"I'm afraid so," Rey nodded, "Did you see what happened?"
Jimmy Cain slowly shook his head and said slowly, like he was in a haze, "No, I was inside the club when we heard the shots."
"We?" Lennie repeated, "You were here with somebody?"
"My wife…"
"Is the whole family down here?" Lennie asked cynically.
"Do you have any idea who would want your father dead, Mr. Cain?" Rey asked.
Jimmy shook his head slowly and said brokenly, "I don't know…I don't know anything…I don't even know where my wife is."
"Didn't you just say she was here with you at the club?" Lennie asked.
Jimmy nodded mechanically as he continued to stare at the body on the ground.
"Jimmy, these are some routine questions we have to ask," Rey told him, "How would you describe your relationship with your father?"
Also mechanically, as if he was anticipating their question and prepared for it, he answered, "We didn't get along…that's an understatement." But that was all he said.
"What were you all doing here tonight?" Lennie asked.
"My wife and I came here to dance," Jimmy answered distantly, "We…just danced the night away. Then she went to the bathroom…I didn't…she didn't come back when the shots rang out."
"And your father? Any idea what he was doing here?"
"He followed us in," Jimmy said.
"Jimmy, do you happen to own a gun?" Lennie asked, figuring this would be the question to snap the man back to reality and make him froth at the mouth for them suggesting such a thing.
But instead, he just shook his head from side to side.
"Officers," one of the women from the club who looked about 30, came up to the homicide detectives and said without any introduction, "She might have done this."
"Who's that?" Lennie asked.
"Jimmy's wife, Lynda Watkins," she answered, "We all heard them fighting tonight." She pointed to the dead man and said, "He followed them in and they got into it, and Lynda said she was going to kill him if he didn't leave them alone. She could have done this."
Lennie and Ray looked at each other in curiosity.
"Could you hear what they were saying?" Rey asked her.
"You kidding me?" she asked, "We could hear them clear over the music."
"Well would you mind enlightening us on it?" Lennie replied.
"Well at the time it was just…it was almost like watching a movie because the whole thing was so ridiculous, they'd ordered some champagne and just started drinking it when he came in, when they heard his voice they both spat out their champagne. And he made a big deal about if the police would ever raid the club and Jimmy's name would come up in the news for it."
"Dear old dad cared a lot about public image, eh?" Lennie inquired.
The woman rolled her eyes, "He always thought he was responsible for Jimmy getting rich, always thought he had something to do with it," she shook her head.
"So then what happened?" Rey asked.
"He asked Jimmy how it would look if he got busted during a raid, and she said to him something about 'how will you look with a chalk outline around you and your throat cut open?'."
"Charming," Lennie commented nonchalantly.
"She told him, they came to have a good time, which was anywhere he wasn't, then she yelled for the bouncer. When he asked what the trouble was, she told him that…" she pointed to Oswald's body, "He was a violent drunk pretending to be her husband and wouldn't leave her alone."
"Any trouble after that?" Rey asked.
"The bouncer was just about going to pick him up and toss him out the door, but he left on his own. But right before he left, Lynda said to him 'If you ever come near us again, I'll kill you', and then once he was gone she said to her husband...'let's dance'."
"That's different," Lennie said.
"What time was this tonight?" Rey asked the woman.
"A little before nine," she answered."
"And they've been here all night?" Rey questioned.
"Yeah, around 1:30 everybody was starting to leave, then she went to the ladies room, 10 minutes later we all heard the shots."
"And did you see her after she went to the bathroom?" Lennie asked.
The woman shook her head, "I don't think anybody has."
Lennie nodded, "Okay, we're going to have you talk to one of the uniformed cops over there and give them a statement and your name and where they can find you if we need to talk to you again, you've been very helpful."
Rey looked to his partner and asked him, "You think the wife looks good for this?"
"I think she sounds good for it but where the hell is she?"
"Hey Jimmy!" a loud voice called out into the night. The two homicide detectives turned and saw a couple unis escorting a woman out of the club. She looked somewhere between 25-30, stood a few inches shorter than her husband, reddish brown hair chopped short in an almost flapper girl style and was wearing a sparkling blue cocktail dress and black shoes. She gave the appearance of being slightly intoxicated but at the same time, looked lucid enough to tell them something credible if asked.
"This should be interesting," Lennie murmured to Rey.
"Can you believe it, Jimmy?" Lynda Watkins asked as she was reunited with her husband, "I come out of the ladies' room and there's three armed cops standing around waiting for me. What's going on here?"
She looked around and looked past the crowd and the police and saw the body laying on the sidewalk, and her expression dropped, and she turned to her husband and asked him, "Is that Oswald?"
Jimmy Cain just slowly nodded his head and answered, "Yes…"
"Is he dead?" she asked, more nonchalant about it now.
The man nodded and answered again, "Yes."
Lynda took a few seconds for this to sink in, then she turned around to the club goers and bellowed at the top of her lungs, "Champagne for everyone!"
Lennie leaned towards Rey and said under his breath, "You don't suppose we could ever get this lucky one time on a case, do you?"
"I don't know," Rey answered uncertainly, "But I guess we're going to find out."
Lennie cleared his throat as he came up to Lynda and said to her, "Sorry to break up the party, but we need to ask you some questions and I think it would be better if we did it at our precinct where it's a bit more private."
The woman looked upset by this news and said to him, "Alright but it's not going to take long, is it? I mean we do have to celebrate now."
"Oh I'm sure there'll be plenty of time for that," Lennie replied, "If you'll just step over here to our car, please."