it better than Amy's jealous husband theory." He laughed. "Shit man, if I was crazy enough to strangle someone who was fucking my wife, I might cut something off the bastard. But it wouldn't be his bunny ears. Curry's got the right idea. This is way too slick to be a one-shot deal just to kill Elkins. Maybe somebody has a hard-on for the company."
"I think you could be right, but as long as we're here, let's find out if anybody had a hard-on for Elkins."
Easier said than done. We spent three hours talking to people who supposedly knew Elkins. Apparently nobody knew him that well. In deference to Amy's Corporate Paranoia, we just told the rank and file that he had been killed. We left out the fact that he died on the job, in uniform.
Our best shot was Elkins's Keeper, Noreen Stubiak. Curry explained that the Keepers were hired to follow the characters around. "Just in case," he said, without actually explaining in case of what. "They're not authorized to do anything but call Security if a character needs help. I had to fire one of them a few weeks ago because he used pepper spray on a bunch of teenage punks who were harassing Officer Jelly Belly."
"If I were you," Terry said to Curry, "I'd issue Officer Jelly Belly a .357 Magnum. Teach those little bastards not to fuck with cartoon cops."
"Don't tempt me," Curry said, laughing. "At the risk of prejudicing your investigation, I have to warn you that the Character Keepers are not trained security people. They're just whistle blowers who are paid burger-flipper wages. Don't expect much from Noreen."
-- 50 --
The Rabbit Factory
Understatement. Noreen had the IQ of a pipe wrench and none of the personality. Her first question was, "What do you mean, he's dead?" Terry explained the concept to her and proceeded to ask a series of questions using one-and two-syllable words. After five minutes, he got as much as he could from her, which was practically nothing.
"He was a good person. He always treated me like a lady. I'm gonna miss him," Noreen said, as she left teary-eyed.
Terry hadn't written a single word in his note pad during the entire interview with Noreen. He tore out the blank page and handed it to me. "Here, file this under Clueless."
Nobody else seemed particularly broken up over Elkins's death. "He seemed like a nice guy but he kept to himself was the prevailing response.
At noon Curry invited us to break bread in the executive dining room. We took a Pasadena. Terry and I wanted to thrash out our first impressions over a more private, less executive lunch, without having to resort to code. Amy and Curry gave us their home phone numbers, cell phones, beepers, pagers, and mothers' maiden names, and made us promise to keep in touch. We left the park with Elkins's personnel file and very little insight into whodunnit.
-- 51
CHAPTER 9
When we got back to the parking lot, Sheriff Daves was still standing guard. "Sheriff," I said, "don't you have deputies who can take over for you?"
"The way I figure," Daves said, "Lamaar is the biggest taxpayer in the county. They got a homicide. Even if I can't do much, it's smarter for me to hang out here than chase skateboarders off of Mrs. DeFrancis's driveway."
"Well, we're glad you're still here, Sheriff," I said. "You've had a lot of contact with Lamaar Security. What's your take on Brian Curry?"
"Smart," he said. "Corporate type, but not a candy ass. Man of his word. Got some real integrity, far as I can tell. But he's totally out of his fucking league to solve a homicide. They'd have been much better off with the last guy."
"What last guy?" I said.
"This Texas cop. From Dallas or Houston, I forget which. He had one of them double names like Billy Bob. Only his was real weird. Ben Don. Ben Don Marvin. He was Head of Security till six months ago. Then he got canned. Brian Curry filled his boots."
Marshall Karp
"Why did he get sacked?" Terry asked.
"Marvin ran a little operation where he was stealing stuff and selling
"I think you could be right, but as long as we're here, let's find out if anybody had a hard-on for Elkins."
Easier said than done. We spent three hours talking to people who supposedly knew Elkins. Apparently nobody knew him that well. In deference to Amy's Corporate Paranoia, we just told the rank and file that he had been killed. We left out the fact that he died on the job, in uniform.
Our best shot was Elkins's Keeper, Noreen Stubiak. Curry explained that the Keepers were hired to follow the characters around. "Just in case," he said, without actually explaining in case of what. "They're not authorized to do anything but call Security if a character needs help. I had to fire one of them a few weeks ago because he used pepper spray on a bunch of teenage punks who were harassing Officer Jelly Belly."
"If I were you," Terry said to Curry, "I'd issue Officer Jelly Belly a .357 Magnum. Teach those little bastards not to fuck with cartoon cops."
"Don't tempt me," Curry said, laughing. "At the risk of prejudicing your investigation, I have to warn you that the Character Keepers are not trained security people. They're just whistle blowers who are paid burger-flipper wages. Don't expect much from Noreen."
-- 50 --
The Rabbit Factory
Understatement. Noreen had the IQ of a pipe wrench and none of the personality. Her first question was, "What do you mean, he's dead?" Terry explained the concept to her and proceeded to ask a series of questions using one-and two-syllable words. After five minutes, he got as much as he could from her, which was practically nothing.
"He was a good person. He always treated me like a lady. I'm gonna miss him," Noreen said, as she left teary-eyed.
Terry hadn't written a single word in his note pad during the entire interview with Noreen. He tore out the blank page and handed it to me. "Here, file this under Clueless."
Nobody else seemed particularly broken up over Elkins's death. "He seemed like a nice guy but he kept to himself was the prevailing response.
At noon Curry invited us to break bread in the executive dining room. We took a Pasadena. Terry and I wanted to thrash out our first impressions over a more private, less executive lunch, without having to resort to code. Amy and Curry gave us their home phone numbers, cell phones, beepers, pagers, and mothers' maiden names, and made us promise to keep in touch. We left the park with Elkins's personnel file and very little insight into whodunnit.
-- 51
CHAPTER 9
When we got back to the parking lot, Sheriff Daves was still standing guard. "Sheriff," I said, "don't you have deputies who can take over for you?"
"The way I figure," Daves said, "Lamaar is the biggest taxpayer in the county. They got a homicide. Even if I can't do much, it's smarter for me to hang out here than chase skateboarders off of Mrs. DeFrancis's driveway."
"Well, we're glad you're still here, Sheriff," I said. "You've had a lot of contact with Lamaar Security. What's your take on Brian Curry?"
"Smart," he said. "Corporate type, but not a candy ass. Man of his word. Got some real integrity, far as I can tell. But he's totally out of his fucking league to solve a homicide. They'd have been much better off with the last guy."
"What last guy?" I said.
"This Texas cop. From Dallas or Houston, I forget which. He had one of them double names like Billy Bob. Only his was real weird. Ben Don. Ben Don Marvin. He was Head of Security till six months ago. Then he got canned. Brian Curry filled his boots."
Marshall Karp
"Why did he get sacked?" Terry asked.
"Marvin ran a little operation where he was stealing stuff and selling
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