Lawyers, Guns, and Money: Crime Fiction Inspired by the Music of Warren Zevon by Libby Cudmore & Art Taylor

Author:Libby Cudmore & Art Taylor [Cudmore, Libby & Taylor, Art]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Down & Out Books
Published: 2022-06-12T12:00:00+00:00

Adrian was still in his bathrobe when I got to his apartment, smoking a cigarette and drinking coffee in the strange space between hungover and still drunk. “Basil Wise,” he grumbled. “You want an omelet or something?”

I shook my head. I did take a cigarette, though. It would have been rude not to. I let the housekeeper pour me a cup of coffee and waited until she was gone to start my pitch. “I wanted to talk to you about Bebe’s death,” I said. “I thought she could be the theme of our video. Life and death in the Hollywood hills.”

“Like a montage and shit,” he said. “I like it.”

“Exactly,” I said. “So, walk me through the last time you saw her.”

He cried a little bit when he told me. They’d gone dancing, they’d done some blow in the bathroom, she’d invited Charlie to join them. Adrian got jealous, they fought, he went home and when he woke up, the news told him she was dead. “Look,” he said. “I like to party. But Bebe, she was into way heavier shit, like, not just on weekends. I was worried about her. I’m not going to pretend I’m some sort of saint, but I know when to stop…most nights, anyways.”

“Sounds like karma,” I said. “Charlie’s dead, too. Guess he had it coming.” I didn’t believe that. I didn’t know what I believed anymore.

He shook his head. “Charlie was okay,” he said. “It wasn’t his fault she couldn’t handle her shit.”

I was never going to get this opportunity again and I had to just ask for it. I stubbed out my cigarette first. “Someone shot Charlie,” I said. “Four days after Bebe died. That’s not an accident.”

“Drug dealers have a lot of enemies,” he said.

“That may be true,” I said. “But I’m thinking our scene is that we have you shooting him. Sort of like a vengeance thing. It’s dark, it’s gritty, what do you think?”

He lit a second cigarette off the first. He took a slow sip of his coffee before he spoke.

“I think it’ll look like I killed him,” he said.

“Didn’t you?”

He looked at me like he was going to call security. We faced off like that for what felt like a couple of days. Then he laughed. “You’re funny,” he said. “Hell, it would probably raise my profile if I had killed the guy. The producers could cash in on the insurance claim, get this piece of shit shelved before it flops. When do you think I shot him?”

“Tuesday night,” I said.

He shook his head. “On set,” he said. “Reshoots. But I like the concept. Who’s going to play Bebe’s dad?”

“Haven’t decided yet,” I said.

“You’ve got to have her dad,” he said. “That guy fucking hated Charlie.”

“He knew him?”

“Knew him?” He snorted. “He and Charlie’s dad were practically partners in the early days. Girls would roll up here from whatever shithole town in Oklahoma or Iowa or Georgia they caught the bus from, Dr. Finch would fix their teeth and funnel them to Dr.

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