18

The Umbry theatre was almost deserted when Nairo and Ridley arrived the next morning. The rain had eased, but the sun had yet to make a return. Instead, the sky was full of listless grey clouds, with not a hint of blue anywhere.

“Some summer this is turning out to be,” Ridley muttered as he stepped out of the carriage and straight into an ankle deep puddle.

They walked into the theatre and made their way straight to the backstage area, only to be waylaid by no less than three different ushers and security personnel. They had to use Eliza’s name and threaten one of the ushers before they were able to make it backstage. This sort of thing had been much easier when Nairo had a badge. They could barge their way in pretty much anywhere they liked. Now they had to employ subterfuge and bribery, which was time consuming and left Nairo feeling dirty.

Backstage was still a buzz of activity but certainly less frantic than at show time. As they walked in, a number of dancers, clad in baggy workout gear, were being drilled through a complex routine of pirouettes and high kicks. There also seemed to be quite a lot more people simply hanging out, smoking, and drinking, while make-up artists and hair stylists flitted about them. Ridley, using his uncanny ability to remember directions, walked confidently straight to Eliza's dressing room. If his beaten up loafers had trodden a path once, he seemed to be able to remember it with preternatural accuracy forever more. They worked their way through the backstage warren and knocked on Eliza’s door. There was no answer. Ridley tried the handle and it was locked.

“You looking for Eliza?” a sweet voice asked them.

They turned to see a stunning young woman in an outfit with far too little cloth and far too many sequins on it. She wore her hair in a dark bob that seemed to be in fashion at the moment and heavy mascara that shimmered in the light.

“Yes, we were supposed to meet her,” Nairo said.

The woman gave a little trilling laugh.

“Oh honey, I haven’t seen Eliza awake before lunch time in years!”

“Great,” Ridley said, rolling his eyes. “And you are?”

“Hannah Hoxley, I am… was a backup singer for Lana LaRue.” An almost practiced flash of mournful sorrow flittered across her features.

“Oh really?” Ridley said, looking at Nairo.

“Yes, for three years,” Hannah said, laying a hand on her chest. “I just don’t know what we’ll do without her.”

“Ms. Hoxley, we were actually here to talk to Eliza about Ms. LaRue’s passing,” Nairo said. “Would you be able to answer a few questions for us? It would really help with our investigation.”

“Investigation?” Hannah raised a finely plucked eyebrow. "I thought the police had already ruled it an accidental overdose?"

"We're not the police, maam." Nairo said. "We're private investigators. I'm Sally Nairo and this is Ridley."

"Private investigators? Hannah said, her eyebrow arching even higher. She thought for a moment and then looked up and down the hallway. “Follow me.”

Hannah tiptoed away on outrageously large heels, leading them further backstage until they reached a disused dressing room. She looked around again and then nodded for them to enter. She snapped the door shut after casting another furtive glance around.

“Eliza put you up to this, didn’t she?” Hannah said to them.

“She had some concerns around the death of Ms. LaRue,” Nairo said.

“Oh gosh. Lizzie, you silly cow.” Hannah looked up to the ceiling and then pushed a loose strand of hair from her face. “She’s convinced that Lana didn’t overdose, every time she has too much to drink she’ll say it to anyone. I keep telling her, that sort of thing could really get her in trouble if the wrong person heard it.”

“Like who?” Ridley asked.

Hannah looked at him and then tittered nervously.

“It’s just an expression, darling. But, you know, people don’t like that sort of thing hanging over them. Everyone just wants to mourn Lana and then, you know, move on. It’s not healthy to hold on to this sort of thing. Grief is terrible for the skin, it can age you ten years, just like that.” Hannah clicked her bony fingers and then gave them another nervous smile.

“Well, so far we’ve found nothing to suggest foul play,” Nairo said. “Maybe if you could answer some of our questions, it would help put Eliza’s mind at ease.”

“Yeah, grief’s a funny thing,” Ridley said. He had circled to the side of the room so that Hannah wouldn’t be able to look at him without turning her head, but he could still see her every expression.

“I suppose I have some time,” Hannah said.

“Please have a seat.” Nairo gestured to the crumpled sofa and then sat herself down on the makeup chair in front of the large mirror to one side of the room with her notepad in hand.

Hannah eased herself down and sat with a perfectly straight back, one long leg folded over the other.

“Ms. Hoxley,” Nairo began.

“Please, call me Hannah.”

“Hannah, did you see Ms. LaRue the night she died?”

“Of course, we were preparing for the show all afternoon, and then we were in makeup together.”

“When was the last time you saw her?”

“Oh, maybe an hour before before she, you know, passed.”

“Did she seem odd to you at all?” Nairo asked. “Was she behaving strangely, or did you get any indication there was something wrong?”

“No, she was normal old Susie, that was her real name, she was bubbly and chatty as always. In fact, I would say she was back to her old self.”

“Back to her old self?” Ridley asked.

“Yes," Hannah said turning to look at Ridley. "She had been a bit, I don’t know if down is the right word, but she wasn’t her usual self before that day. She was stressed about something, it was wreaking havoc with her complexion.”

“How long had she been like that?” Nairo said.

“Maybe a week could have been a little bit longer,” Hannah said, waving a hand airily.

“She didn’t say what was the matter?” Nairo said.

“No. I just assumed it was the stress of the tour getting to her.”

“This is the tour that she was in the middle of when she passed?”

“Yes. Twenty four shows in a month is a gruelling schedule for anyone.”

“But she seemed fine when you saw her that day?”

“Back to her old self.”

“Could you tell us a bit about Ms. LaRue’s drug use?”

A fiery look flashed across Hannah’s eyes.

“She didn’t use drugs,” Hannah said haughtily. “Well, not like that! You know, she liked to have a good time, like any of us. But she never touched the hard stuff. Never!”

“What did she use?”

“Just… the normal stuff, okay? Chaaraam leaf after a show. Maybe a bit of Slug every now and again when she needed a pick me up. Pink fizzers when we were out on the town. Just… normal stuff.”

“You never saw her use Burn?”

“That toxic crap rots your skin, turns your teeth yellow, and my gosh don’t get me started on what it does to your hair!" Hannah said.

"So you never saw her use Burn, or saw any indications she might be using it? Especially in the lead up to her death." Nairo asked.

"No!" Hannah said emphatically, but then she stopped and looked down at her hands with a dramatic lilt in her posture. "But then Susie had become distant before she passed. I hardly felt like I knew her by the end.”

“Eliza said that Ms. LaRue had gone completely straight, she hadn’t touched a drug or a drop of drink before she died.” Nairo said.

“Eliza would say that,” Hannah replied, rolling her eyes.

“She lying?” Ridley asked.

“Let’s just say, Eliza had a somewhat unhealthy fondness for Susie. She thought she could do no wrong and she would believe anything that came out of Susie’s mouth.”

“Did you see Ms. LaRue take any drugs prior to her death?” Nairo asked.

“Well, not personally, no. But she had stopped coming out with us. Again, the stress of the tour. Poor thing was exhausted all the time, constantly complaining of backaches and the such. She was being run into the ground. We’d only just returned from the Genero tour and we were right back to it.”

“Susie had been in Genero?” Ridley asked.

“Yes, we just wrapped up six dates there last month.”

“Last month? Do you remember the dates?” Ridley asked.

“Not off the top of my head, but there’s flyers all over the place, if you grab one of those it will have the exact dates.” Hannah said with a flippant wave of her hand.

Ridley nodded and fell silent.

“So Suzie wasn’t coming out and partying anymore?” Nairo said, continuing her line of questioning.

“No, she was with her married man most of the time since we returned. Who knows what they got up to in private.” Hannah grinned wickedly.

“Friedrich Shumacker?” Nairo asked.

“Yes, him.” Hannah pulled a face at the mention of the name like she had smelled something foul.

“You’re not a fan?” Ridley said.

“It’s just, well it’s not right, is it? A married man more than twice her age. And the stories I’ve heard about him, it just wasn’t right. It was a strange relationship, that’s all, and I don’t think he was a good influence on her.”

“How so?” Nairo asked.

“He would fill her head with nonsense ideas and, let’s just say, Fred Shumacker is definitely a very experienced man. His appetites are the stuff of legend. If Susie did fall into bad ways, I guarantee it came from him.”

“Do you believe that Shumacker could possibly have done something to harm Ms. LaRue?” Nairo asked.

“No,” Hannah said bluntly. “By all accounts, they were both very much in love. The way he would dote over her. They were so saccharine it made my toes curl. No, he was as taken with Susie as most people were with her. Only difference is he could buy her everything and take her anywhere she wanted. Susie had that effect on people. They just wanted to shower her with affection and gifts. This is what I keep telling Eliza, why would anyone want to hurt such a sweet thing as Susie?”

“He is a married man,” Nairo said, and Hannah snorted derisively.

“He’s an Owner, sweetie, he could have a whole harem of women, who’s going to tell him anything?”

“Did Susie ever talk to you about a stalker?” Ridley asked.

“Ha! Which one?” Hannah said, waving a dismissive hand at Ridley. “The girl was adored from here to the Algrave Lakes. She had doting fans everywhere. Some of those were a bit intense. I’d take it as a compliment personally, but Susie was just too inexperienced. The attention used to frighten her, the poor thing.”

“But did she mention a stalker recently?” Nairo asked.

Hannah sighed and smoothed down her dress.

“Listen, Susie had what you would call a nervous disposition. All the fame and attention was all a bit much for her. Sometimes, she would overreact or work herself up into seeing things that weren’t there or imagining people were following her…”

“But did she talk about it recently?” Ridley persisted.

Hannah looked at him and then shrugged noncommitally.

“She was all in a flutter a couple of days before she passed. She said she had seen someone outside of her window and that she reckoned someone had been in her apartment while she was gone. But that’s silly. She lived in one of the gated apartments with twenty four hour security. No one could have gotten in there. Like I said, she was just a bit fragile sometimes.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

“And this was a couple of days before she passed?” Nairo clarified.

“Yes, I think.”

“Thank you Hannah, you have been very helpful in clearing up a few things for us.” Nairo said with a professional smile.

“I hope I have,” Hannah replied, rising gracefully. “And I hope we can just put this whole business behind us and move on.”

“Well we won’t take up anymore of your time,” Ridley said, walking over and opening the door for them. “But then I suppose there’s not much to be doing now, with the tour cancelled.”

“Oh the tour hasn’t been cancelled,” Hannah said, letting out another little titter of laughter.

“It hasn’t?”

“No, dear, this is showbiz and the show must alway go on. We still have thirteen more dates to fill.”

“How are you going to do that without Ms. LaRue?” Nairo asked.

“It’s now a memorial tour. We’ve sold out everything. There’s even talks of extending the tour and doing the circuit around the Forest, hitting all the major cities where Susie was beloved. I’ll be taking Susie’s place as leading lady.” She gave them a small, humble smile but couldn’t hide the flash of hubris in her eyes.

“Oh wow, congrats.” Ridley said.

“Thank you, love. I’ll be sure to see that you can get a couple of tickets. Taa taa for now, I must be off for hair and make up!” She flashed them another smile and then tottered away on her mountainous heels.

Ridley watched her go and then turned to Nairo.

“You getting a tingly feeling in the back of your neck?” he asked.

“More like in my guts,” Nairo replied. “Something’s… off here. She shut down every possible line of inquiry.”

“Almost like she wants us to think this was just an OD,” Ridley muttered. “And now they’ve sold out the tour in memory of Susie, and she gets to be the leading lady? Smells like a motive to me.”

“Let’s not get ahead of ourselves here,” Nairo warned. “She definitely felt like she was trying to lead us to a conclusion, but I didn’t get the feeling she was hiding anything. I mean, does she strike you as cold and calculated enough to poison a coworker so she could steal her spot?”

“Showbiz is a cutthroat world,” Ridley muttered as they walked back towards the stage.

“Sally! Ridley!”

They turned to see Eliza bustling up to them. She had a heavy dress bag under one arm and a wig under the other. She looked like she had just rolled out of bed. Her hair was askew, her face was blotchy, and she was wearing the same workout attire as the dancers. In the daylight, Eliza certainly looked less glamorous.

“I’m so sorry, I woke up late, and I’ve been running around ever since! It was quite a night last night!”

“That’s alright, we haven’t been waiting long,” Nairo said.

“Please come this way. I want you to speak to someone.” Eliza bustled towards her dressing room, and fumbled with the knob.

The door opened, and a tall, elegant man with piercing blue eyes and wavy blonde hair stood there. He wore a loose white blouse with several buttons opened to reveal the musculature of his chest.

“Lizzie sweetheart, I’ve been waiting for almost twenty minutes! I almost died of boredom in here!”

“Gerald, honey, I’m so sorry. It’s been an absolute morning of it!”

“I can see that,” he said, accepting her soft kisses on his smooth cheeks before standing back and appraising her. “Who’s bed did you roll out of, sweets?”

“Oh stop!” Eliza laughed and slapped him on his well muscled chest.

“And who are these… interestingly dressed individuals?” Gerald asked, cocking a thick blonde eyebrow at Nairo and Ridley.

“These are the investigators I told you about last night,” Eliza said, walking into the small dressing room and closing the door behind them.

“Oh Lizzie, I thought you were joking about all that. You haven’t really gone and found some gumshoe types to investigate this, have you?”

“I didn’t go to them… they found me… sort of,” Eliza said, dumping her dress on a pile of discarded clothes. “Oh please Jerry, just speak with them. They just want to pick that beautiful little brain of yours.”

Gerald rolled his eyes and sighed dramatically.

“Fine, but we need to work. I’ve got three other girls that need seeing, and that bitch Hannah will have my balls if I’m late to her appointment.”

“Of course! Of course!” Eliza clapped happily and turned to Nairo and Ridley.

“Sally and Ridley, this is Gerald Hunt, the best hair and make up artist in all of Valderia. He knows everything that goes on back here.”

“Oh please,” Gerald said with mock modesty as he brushed his wavy hair out of his face and extended his hand. “Pleasure to make your acquaintance.”

Nairo extended her hand. He had incredibly soft hands. He leaned forward and dropped two gentle kisses on either of her cheeks. He smelt like an intoxicating mix of powders and flowers.

“Hand shake is good for me,” Ridley said, extending his hand as far as he could away from his body.

Gerald flashed him a white toothed smile and gently shook the tips of his fingers.

“He’s a handsome one, isn’t he?” Gerald said to Eliza.

“He is?” Nairo said incredulously.

“A bit skinny for my liking, but a bit of blush, a little foundation, and we could round out those cheeks.”

“No thanks,” Ridley grunted. He then skirted around the room until his back was firmly against the wall.

Eliza sat down on the makeup chair and faced the mirror. Gerald began to unfurl a large canvas roll of all of his equipment. Nairo had never seen so many combs, scissors, jars, and bottles of powders before. Gerald fussed with Eliza’s hair and tutted reproachfully.

“What have I told you about not sleeping with your bonnet on?” He scolded her gently. “It’ll take me twenty minutes just to straighten out this bird’s nest!”

Gerald selected a thick, boar’s hair brush and began to brush out Eliza’s tangled hair.

“You can ask your questions while I work,” Gerald said to Nairo, lighting a smoke and continuing with his brushing.

“Okay, was it Gerald Hunt?” Nairo asked, taking out her notepad.

“She’s even got a notepad, that’s so kitsch,” he said to Eliza. “Yes, it is sweetie, Gerald Reginald Hunt.’

“Mr. Hunt, how well did you know Ms. LaRue?”

“Call me Gerald. Mr. Hunt is my father, and he’s a right bastard. I knew Susie very well. I did her hair and makeup from when she arrived from the little suburbs they found her in.”

“Did you see her on the night she died?”

“Yes. I’d just finished doing her hair.”

“How long was that before she passed?”

“Thirty minutes maybe.”

“Were you the last person to see her alive?”

Gerald stopped for a moment and then kissed his fingertip and rubbed it behind his ear, an old superstitious gesture to ward of the evil eye.

“I think so.”

“How would you describe Ms. LaRue’s disposition?”

“Sunny and bubbly as always.”

“Had Ms. LaRue been acting unusually in the weeks prior to her death?”

Again, Gerald stopped, and this time he gave Nairo a curious look.

“She’d been stressed. Run down by the schedule. That ogre Manny was working her like a street girl.”

“Manny?” Nairo asked.

“Ozyamdal Litteragi,” Eliza said. “He’s the director and financier of the troupe.”

“That fat bloke who did the opening ceremony last night?” Ridley said.

Gerald snorted and rolled his eyes.

“Oh yes, that’s our Manny, any chance to be centre stage.”

“He had been working Ms. LaRue hard?” Nairo asked.

“Oh yeah. Poor thing was being turned out every night, sometimes twice a day on that bloody tour. He had her going from one city to the next, to the next, for nearly three months! Poor Susie was too sweet to ever put her foot down. Gossip is, it was actually her lover boy who finally forced Manny to come home.”

“Friedrich Shumacker?” Nairo asked.

“Mmm,” a dreamy look came over Gerald’s face for a moment. “That’s the one. He hadn’t seen Susie in months, and he pulled some strings and forced Manny to come home. Manny was fuming. They were absolutely raking in the coin on those tours.”

“Shumacker has that sort of influence?” Ridley asked.

“Fred Shumacker is a very powerful man.” There was a mischievous glint in Gerald's eye. “He and Manny go way back, they’ve hated each other since we were in nappies.”

“They hate each other?”

“Of course. Fred’s always had a soft spot for the theatre. I reckon he always wanted to be an actor but was never allowed to be one.”

“I thought big, powerful Owners can do whatever they want,” Ridley said derisively.

“They can, until a bigger and more powerful Owner comes along and tells them they can’t. Fred’s not a real Owner. His father was like a third cousin or something. He has enough gold and clout to throw his weight around, but he doesn’t really have any power in his own circles. It’s why he spends so much time with us little people. Well that and all the fucking, I suppose.”

“Fred slept with other actresses?” Ridley asked.

Gerald and Eliza burst out laughing.

“Sweetie, there isn’t a hole, man or woman, that Fred Shumacker hasn’t tried to stick his dick in,” Gerald said with a wicked smile.

“Fred’s well known to be a total slut,” Elisa said. “Freddie loves an orgy, and once he gets going, he’s not picky about who it’s with.”

“Mhmmm,” Gerald said, making a noise of agreement. “He throws these big masquerade parties. Lots of drink, lots of drugs, and lots of flesh. He’s got one coming up tomorrow night, in fact.”

“Lovely,” Ridley said, pulling a face. “So he was cheating on Susie?”

“No,” Gerald said. “For perhaps the first time in his life, Gerald was a one woman man once he fell for with Susie.”

“Isn’t he married?” Ridley asked.

“Like I said, a one woman man.” Gerald flashed him another wicked grin.

“Why do Litteragi and Shumacker hate each other?” Nairo asked, trying to get the interview back on track.

“Women, gold, broken promises, take your pick,” Gerald said offhandedly as he switched to a finer comb. “Rumour has it they’ve chased the same woman several times and, obviously, Freddie won every time. And let me tell you, Manny has a little dick and holds big grudges.”

“Including Susie,” Eliza said.

“Lizzie,” Gerald warned her.

“Manny was sweet on Susie?” Ridley said.

Gerald sighed and put down his comb and picked up his smoke. He turned to face them, his arms crossed, and a look of defiance on his face.

“We’re getting into territory I’m not comfortable with,” he said.

“Since when have you been shy about spreading gossip?” Eliza said to him.

“Since the lady in a man’s trench coat started writing things down,” he snapped back at her.

Nairo looked down at her trench coat and frowned.

“I like the fit.”

“And it looks good on you sweetie, but I like my job, and like I said, Manny holds grudges. I don’t want to go spreading his shit if it might land on me.”

“We can guarantee anonymity,” Nairo said.

“Please Jerry,” Eliza said, batting her thick lashes up at him. “If someone did hurt Susie, if someone… killed her, we have to do something about it.”

Gerald looked at her and then sighed, wiping the heel of his hand across his brows.

“Listen, I don’t know anything for certain, just rumours and gossip.”

“Then we’ll take them as such,” Nairo said.

“Manny loved Susie, he lusted after her, apparently he tried it on more than once.” Gerald said reluctantly.

“He does with most of the girls,” Eliza said, a bitter edge to her voice.

“It’s very much a favour for a favour with Manny. I wouldn’t be surprised if more than half the girls out there right now vying for a spot on the poster have fucked or sucked Manny at least once. It’s an open secret.”

“Did Susie?” Ridley asked.

“No. She was an actual talent. But that didn’t stop him trying.” Gerald said.

“It was more than that,” Eliza said. “He was obsessed with her. It was why she was rocketed up to top billing so quickly. He would have given her anything to get her in pants. And Susie was so sweet she never understood why. she just thought he was being kind.”

“And then Fred comes wandering along with his good looks and his absolute self assurance, and Susie melts for him. And Manny has to watch another girl get taken by Freddie Shumacker.”

“How many times has this happened prior?” Nairo asked.

“At least three, maybe more. Like I said, they’ve been going round this merry go round for a long time.”

“There’s nothing Manny can do about,” Eliza said. “Fred’s rich. He’s a patron of the theatre. We only survive because of wealthy patrons like him.”

“I thought you said Manny was raking it in on the tours?” Ridley said.

“Which is why he wanted to tour so relentlessly,” Eliza said.

“But we haven’t had a star like Susie in so long. Before her, it was half empty theatres and matinee shows.” Gerald said. “And there’s no money in Valderia. Between rent costs, wages, hush money, drugs, lavish parties, and city taxes, Manny’s lucky to break even. This run that we’re doing now was barely going to pay itself off. If it didn’t happen for any reason, Manny would be bankrupt.”

“Why wouldn’t the tour not happen?” Ridley asked, and Gerald faltered for a moment, realising he had said too much.

“Oh… well…”

“Tell them Jerry,” Eliza said.

Gerald took a deep breath.

“Susie was… well she was only talking about it… but she was planning on quitting the stage mid-run."

“Why?” Nairo asked.

“All that time away from Fred, I think it really opened her eyes to the fact that this wasn’t the life she wanted.”

“I told you, Susie was obsessed with her idyllic little life as a mother and a wife,” Eliza said.

“Bless her little cotton socks,” Gerald said. “She was planning on leaving and settling down with Freddie. If you ask me, it was probably his idea.”

“And do you think Manny might have tried to hurt Susie in revenge?” Ridley asked.

Gerald took a long drag of his smoke and then looked at Eliza.

“Manny… has a dark side,” Eliza said carefully. “He’s done things with girls in the past…”

“Lizzie,” Gerald hissed.

“Gerald, if he has a history of violence we need to know,” Nairo said.

“He’s not violent,” Gerald said. “Gosh, he hasn’t got enough balls to slap a girl around. He’s more… manipulative. He likes to get them young and promise them the world. He gets them into partying, and then comes the drugs, and then they're putty in his hands. He works them endlessly, has his fun, and then…” Gerald chewed the thought around his mouth. “Sells them on.”

“Sells them on?” Ridley asked.

“Don’t be naive,” Gerald said to him testily. “Pretty young girls, hooked on junk and strung out, where do you think he sells them?”

“Into prostitution,” Nairo said.

“Not right away,” Gerald said. “First it’s the nude artists, the porn papers, then eventually they wind up selling it on the cobbles.” Gerald’s voice sounded bitter, and his eyes were harsh.

“He’s done this before?” Nairo asked.

“Many times. Like I said, Manny was always hard up for gold. He spent it like he was an Owner. Always throwing big parties and ridiculous feasts for all his rich mates. Supplying girls for entertainment was a way of keeping him in coins.” Gerald stubbed out his smoke and then looked around. “Listen, I’m late. I have to get going. Lizzie I need to get you done.”

Gerald turned back to his work with the air of a man who was done talking.

“Thank you for your time Gerald,” Nairo said, standing up.

“This all stays between us, okay? I’m not going to testify or anything like that, and I don’t want my name brought up. Manny’s not a man to cross, and I prefer to be employed than back out on the streets. Okay?” Gerald said without turning around.

“Understood.” Nairo said.

Ridley and Nairo left the room and didn’t speak until they were back outside the theatre.

“Shumacker and Manny,” Nairo said thoughtfully as they waited for a cab. “It sounds like this poor girl was surrounded by men who either would have her or see to it no one else would.”

“More importantly,” Ridley said, lighting a smoke. “Either one of them could have clipped Quinn to keep him quiet if he figured something out they didn’t want anyone knowing.” Ridley held up a small, black and white flyer he had grabbed on the way out.

“What’s that?”

“The tour dates from Genero,” Ridley said, folding the flyer up and tucking it into his pocket.

“So which one do you like more for it?” Nairo asked. “The sexual deviant Owner boyfriend or the abusive director?”

“We stay on Shumacker for now,” Ridley said. “If anyone could pull off a professional hit on Quinn, it would be someone with a lot of gold and a lot of clout. Manny doesn’t fit the bill just yet.”

“We need to get Shumacker in a room,” Nairo said. “But we’ll never get close to him with his security around him.”

“Didn’t Jerry say he’s hosting a party tomorrow night?” Ridley asked, raising an eyebrow at her.

“You mean an orgy,” Nairo corrected.

“Sounds like the type of place where he won't have guards around him.”

“Are you seriously suggesting we go to an orgy?”

Ridley shrugged and gave her a little smile.

“We pursue the naked truth wherever it leads us.”

Nairo sighed and closed her eyes.

“Looks like we’re going to an orgy.”