Montecito Heights by Colin Campbell

Author:Colin Campbell
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: Los Angeles, Hollywood, mystery, fiction, English, international, international mystery, cop, police, detective, reality TV
Publisher: Llewellyn Worldwide, LTD.
Published: 2014-02-18T00:00:00+00:00

TWENTY-SEVEN

Smoke and mirrors. That’s what Grant was thinking as Nathan Burdett came through the smoke to greet L. Q. Patton. The smoke part was obvious. The mirrors went back to what he’d discovered in the guest room. Smoke and mirrors. A technique used by illusionists to make a trick look like one thing when it was really something else. Everything was different depending on how you looked at it.

Grant managed to contain the surprise at where he thought he recognized the guy from. Not from The Scalphunters or Birdman of Alcatraz but from the static camera pointed at the back of his head while a naked Angelina Richards sucked his cock. Patton introduced them, and Burdett held out a hand. Grant shook it. James Bond’s friend-or-foe detector worked a treat. The handshake wasn’t firm and dry. Burdett’s hand felt as clammy as a just-shit turd, not easy in the dry heat of Southern California. There wasn’t a hint of red in his eyes, that was something, but Grant distrusted him straightaway.

None of that showed in Grant’s face as he smiled at his host. “You sure know how to throw a party.”

Burdett grinned his appreciation of the compliment. “This is LA. It’s a party town.”

He let go of Grant’s hand. The guy had the limp grip and sweaty palm of a banker that was at odds with the tan and movie-star grin. Burt Lancaster would be spinning in his grave if he knew this guy modeled himself on the Hollywood legend. Grant kept the smile relaxed and friendly.

“I particularly like the synchronized swimming team.”

Citrin narrowly avoided digging him in the ribs again. Burdett glanced across at the swimming pool.

“Not exactly Busby Berkeley, but they get by.”

“Did you know that silicon implants are heavier than natural breasts?”

Citrin looked away. Patton grinned. Burdett laughed and shook his head.

“I didn’t know that. I guess we’d better employ more lifeguards. We don’t want anyone drowning. This is LA—there’s more plastic here than in Silicon Valley.”

Grant waved at the view of downtown Los Angeles through the decorative arch. There were at least two helicopters buzzing across the night sky, searchlights lancing into the dark.

“LA seems to have more of everything. Actors. Film crews. TV shows. It’s the bank robbery capital of the world, I’ve been told.”

“If robbers wanted to make real money, they should steal the budget of any Hollywood movie. Hundred million average these days.”

“Not rob the budget of a reality TV show?”

“That would still net them a decent profit. Not the big league, though. The money I’ve put up for some projects would make your eyes water.”

“You don’t just do TV, then?”

Burdett held one hand up, fingers spread.

“See those fingers? Covered in pastry, the number of pies I’ve got them stuck in. Keep hoping that one of them will come out with a plum. Like in the nursery rhyme.”

“My dad never read me nursery rhymes.”

“You get the picture, though? My projects are diverse and wide ranging.”

Grant didn’t mention that diverse was the same as wide ranging.

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