The Other Path

Chapter 50

Moisture glistens in Dorian Brand's eyes. "Larry is dead? How?"

"PCP overdose," Kate responds gently.

Brand sinks into a chair showing signs of rescue from a dumpster. "That can't be. Larry never took drugs. He was into health stuff. When I saw him at Jamba Juice, he wouldn't even drink that. He said it had way too many carbs. He grabbed a bottle of one of those new alkaline waters to sip while we talked."

"What did you talk about?" Rick asks.

"His auditions, my auditions, mostly how it sucked to try to get acting gigs in New York. He was being nice about it, really. He was getting cast in plays. I can't seem to book anything. So I've been busking in the subway, singing and playing the guitar. But I'm barely getting by. I was hoping Larry could put me on to something, but he hadn't heard about anything except the play he was up for, and even if he couldn't get it, I wouldn't fit the role. He told me he'd keep his ears open for me, though."

"Were you two close?" Kate inquires.

"We went to high school together, Performing Arts. We were both hoping to make it into Juilliard, but neither of us did. So we kept in touch, did some experimental theater together, worked on improv, anything we could do to perfect our craft."

Rick nods knowingly. "It's hard. You should hear some of my mother's stories."

"You're Martha Rodgers' son, aren't you?" Dorian asks. "I love her work. So did Larry. She's a legend."

"She'll be glad to hear that as long as it wasn't an allusion to her age."

Dorian shakes his long locks. "It wasn't. An artist is ageless."

"You must have seen the picture on her Facebook page," Rick mutters.

"Mr. Brand," Kate interjects, "can you think of anyone who might want to hurt Lawrence Marah, someone with access to PCP?"

"Larry beat another actor, Gary Redcoff, out for a role in a revival of The Crucible last year. Gary was pretty pissed off, but I don't think he'd kill over it. And I have no idea about PCP. I'm not the health guy Larry was, but I won't get near that sh*t. Sorry, I can't help more."

"You may have helped a lot," Kate says. "Good luck on your next audition."

"I have my fingers crossed for Fisherman's Best."

Rick claps Dorian on the shoulder. "I hate to say the words you hear too often, but according to the AD, you didn't get it. However, she suggested you audition for the vampire flick casting next week. The pallor of one who performs below ground has its advantages. She thought you'd be perfect."

An upturn flirts with Dorian's lips. "Thanks, man. I'll go for it."

"You think he did it?" Kate asks as she and Rick descend the four flights of stairs from Dorian's closet-sized apartment.

"No. Do you?"

"No., but I'm going to request the video from Jamba Juice. I want to see if Larry Marah was drinking a bottle of alkaline water. It would be hard for Dorian or anyone to slip PCP into that."

"And we should check out Gary Redcoff," Rick suggests. "Maybe he's a good enough actor to conceal his murderous instincts."

"It's possible," Kate allows.


Redcoff rubs his palm over the stubble forming on his chin. "Yeah, I was pissed off about losing John Proctor to Larry Marah – for about a minute. The next day I got a call from my agent telling me I'd booked a recurring role in Blue Bloods. If I'd gotten the Crucible, I would have had to turn it down. So I was happy for Larry. The part of John Proctor's got a lot of depth. Playing it was quite a feather in Larry's cap. And honestly, I can't figure out who'd want to hurt him. He was a good guy. If he couldn't fit a role, he tried to get a friend who did in to audition."

"Did you ever see him doing drugs?" Kate inquires.

"I haven't seen him in months. But God, no! He always said he wanted absolute clarity for insight into the characters he played. Sometimes it came off as a little obnoxious, but he was sincere. That came through."

"And have you ever done drugs, Mr. Redcoff?" Kate questions.

"Like most actors, maybe a little weed at a party or something. But I don't look for it, and I never go near the hard stuff."

"OK, Mr. Redcoff," Kate acknowledges. "Thanks for your time."

A text dings on Kate's phone as she and Rick return to her unit. "Jamba Juice will let us look at the video. But they can't rip a copy, so they need us to watch it at the store."

"It would be nicer to go somewhere with real food," Rick grumbles.

"I think there's a Pig-out Pizza in the same block. We could stop there first," Kate proposes.

I said real food. The idea at Pig-out is that you eat yourself into such a stupor you don't realize how sub-standard the pizza is. It's still more appetizing than the health muffins Jamba Juice sells, but I want to do better for dinner."

"If we have time."


Rick points at the screen in the backroom of Jamba Juice. "Dorian was telling the truth. That's Marah pulling a bottle of alkaline water out of the refrigerated case. Wait, can we zoom in on that bottle?"

The Jamba juicer running the video nods. "I'll try. This is the best I can do."

Rick squints at the frozen image. Is that a little X on the label of the bottle Larry chose?"

Kate stares at the monitor. "I think it is. Can you pull back?" she requests of the juicer.

"I don't see one on the others," Rick notes. "I wonder if they'd all be from the same shipment."

"They should have been," the juicer replies. "We get a delivery once a week. The ones in the case now would have come at the same time."

Kate turns toward the door to the public area. "Let's have a look."

Rick pulls out the bottles one by one and shows them to Kate. "None of these have an X. The one Marah chose was different."

"And we need to find out why," Kate declares.


"The water shipment came from Pure Refreshment Beverage Service," Kate announces, tossing her phone on her desk in the bullpen. "They supply all the Jamba Juice stores in the city with water and specialty ice teas. The guy I talked to had no idea why there would be an X on one of the bottles. They trace them with bar codes."

"Do they deliver straight from the bottler?" Rick asks.

"No. they deliver out of a warehouse. Why?"

"Because while you've been making inquiries, I've been doing a little research about PCP and what would be so special about alkaline water. PCP likes to dissolve in something with an alkaline pH. You could only put a little into solution in ordinary water – probably not enough to kill. But alkaline water would be a whole different story."

"So, you think Larry Marah's bottle was spiked with PCP?"

"Why else would it have had an X on it?" Rick queries.

"I don't know, but I'm going to find out."

"I know you will. Just don't drink any bottles with Xs on them while you're investigating."