Previously, the Bard, Lucy and Tenaya spent time together on Santa Monica Pier relaxing and taking a break from the hectic activities they had all been going through. It was a great evening. It had become clear to both detectives that the Bard was much more than just a crazy homeless guy that spouted poetry. Within that persona was a sharp mind with insight. He was also a friend. Across the country, the true heir to the Blackwell fortune sat with talent agents considering a life changing contract for her services. We pick up the story now as Ruby Dancer considers her options while her mother looks on disapprovingly.
He reached into his satchel and pulled out a thick book. It was a listing of Blackwell publishing's song holdings. He handed it to Diamond who never took her eyes off him as she set it on the table between them. He continued, "The Blackwell publishing catalogue is the most extensive in the world. Miss Dancer, we own every meaningful song ever written. We own the rights to every decent song that anybody is going to write. We are music and we want to sign your daughter to a recording contract. She's a full-grown woman, I could just go straight to her, but out of respect, I have come to you. Let us make your daughter a super star."
"We'll let you know." Diamond began to rise from her seat.
"Hell no. I can let you know right the hell now. Where do I sign?" Ruby was red with anger. The agent was taken aback, but only for a moment. He handed her a pen.
"Wait, Ruby! Talk to me first. You don't know what you're doing. You don't know what I know!"
"I know that I've wanted this my whole life. If not now when, Momma? I'm signing."
"Dammit, Ruby. You already…own the company. You don't have…to…sign. You are Johnathon Blackwell's daughter." Diamond broke down into tears. Ruby stood there stunned. She knew her father was white. She could see that in the mirror. She even suspected someone in the business, considering her mother's attitude. But, Johnathon Blackwell? Her mom could've have said Abraham Lincoln and not received a different reaction.
No one would be getting any sleep in Baton Rouge that evening. Across the country Johnathon Blackwell Junior was making plans for his new empire even while his own family plotted against him for a piece of the action. Little did any of them know that the real mogul of Blackwell Publishing was Ruby Dancer. They would be finding out soon enough.
Lucy arrived at work early and well rested. Lincoln greeted her at the door. He seemed excited and took her to the side. "You missed a lot of excitement last night. That man you were talking to yesterday, the homeless man? Well, it turns out he has been trespassing on the property for some time now. Mr. Blackwell found him walking down the street late at night and watched him go down the back alley right into our yard. He's been sleeping in the clubhouse back there. He even has it furnished. Mr. Blackwell has been tolerating him being that he was a friend of sorts to his father. But, that takes the cake. He told him he had to leave. When he wouldn't leave, Mr. Blackwell called the police and they arrested him."
Lucy didn't want to blow her cover. She maintained her composure. "Oh dear. He seemed harmless enough when I talked to him. No one uses that area do they?"
"No. I don't expect that they do. But, it is private property."
"Was it the Bel Air police?" Lucy was trying to determine where he might've been taken.
"Yes, they said they'd take him in and let the D.A. decide whether he wants to prosecute or not. I hope it doesn't come to that. But, you can't just move into peoples yards willy nilly like that."
"You're right of course, Lincoln. I feel sorry for him, but he does get a lot of help from the neighborhood. Well, any kids here yet. Or, do we have time for coffee?"
"Coffee is on and ready. Just waiting for the right company." Lincoln smiled.
"I'll be right there. I just have to powder my nose." Lucy smiled back.
Lucy jumped on her cell phone right away. "They have the Bard, Tenaya. You need to get down to the precinct. That jackass, Blackwell had him arrested for trespassing last night. Must've been a little after we dropped him off. Let me know. I gotta get back to work. Text me."
Lucy returned to chat with Lincoln determined to get some information out of him. Tenaya sped toward the Bel Air Police Department hoping to get the Bard out of whatever mess he was in.
On arrival, she walked up to the watch commander and inquired about Stewart Slater, the Bard's given name. Sgt. Trammel pulled up a screen on his computer and looked it over. "Yes, here it is. Trespass. Bail posted. He was picked up early this morning at about six A.M. Yeah, I remember. I was just taking over shift from Johannsen. Four guys came for him. He claimed not to know them and wanted to stay locked up. He said he wanted to wait for someone. I asked him who and he said it was top secret. A real nut case. A funny guy. He was singing some mean Hendrix too. I mean, pretty damn good. Anyway, he took him with them."
"What about the bond. Do you have a copy of it?"
"Sure, I'll make you a copy. Standard stuff though. Have a Heart Bail Bonds, typical 10, 000 dollar bond, 10% down. The usual drill. Here you go." He smiled.
Tenaya took the form and attempted to smile back. She was partially successful. Christ! This is all bogus as hell. John Smith. 1234 Dreamland Lane? Hell, I don't read them either. Crap. The chief! No. What if he is in on it? I have to risk it. They have him. This is not good!
"Good to see you Adrian. Report."
Report? Oh, the damn Rutherford case. "Ah, yes, Chief. Nothing yet. They are out and about, Sir. Up to no good. They haven't made us yet. But, they haven't been near the Rutherford house yet. Lucy has it staked out. I go back in a couple hours to relieve her. Sir, I have another matter. There was a homeless trespass brought in last night and bailed out. I have reason to believe he was kidnapped." Christ, that sounds nuts!
"The pest on the Blackwell property? Naw, he posted and left this A.M., Adrian. He's probably dumpster diving as we speak." Sandoval laughed at what he considered a highly amusing line.
"You don't understand, Sir. He was a witness to the Blackwell murder. I think he's been abducted."
"Blackwell murder? What the hell are you smoking there, Tenaya. There is no murder. That was ruled a natural cause demise. You're sounding like him."
"Sir, there is no Johnathon Blackwell Senior at the Cryogenics institute. I had the opportunity to ask them when I was investigating a disturbance there.
"I thought I pulled you off that case. Hell, there is no case. I ordered you to drop your crazy hunch and get on with things. Now what? You've got abducted homeless guys and missing frozen bodies. What next, Tenaya, Hoffa's body in the window display at Macy's?" Sandoval was delighted in what may have been the wittiest remark of his life. He was busy mentally writing that down in his mind.
"Yes, sir. I wasn't investigating. I was curious is all. I inquired and they told me that he wasn't there and they had no orders or agreement on file concerning him. They buried an empty coffin, there is no body and a billion dollars is about to be passed out to a jackals den of relatives. There is a crime here and now the one man that witnesses anything is suddenly abducted. We need to get a force out and find this guy. He is in grave danger."
"Dammit Detective. This is Bel Air. We protect and serve billionaires. The ghetto here is the part of town that millionaires live in. You want me to get hot and bothered over some homeless guy? I know this guy. He's like the town pet wandering around performing for treats. That's all fine and good showing what a nice heart our little community has. But, when your dog shits on the carpet, you rub his nose in it and put him out of the house. Now get back to work!"
"He's a part of the community like anyone else. He's a human being, not a dog. I'm telling you that he is in danger. I want to know what you are going to do about it."
"I've had about all the insubordination I can take from you little girl. He was arrested, he made bail and he was released. End of story. Now, you either get back to work, or take your badge and sidearm and lay them on my desk and get the hell out of here. You are one word away from suspension."
I've seen that shade of red before. At the L.A. Zoo on a baboon's ass! I've done stupider things before though I can't recall what at the moment. Detective Adrian removed her sidearm from her holster, took her badge from around her neck, and placed them firmly down on the Chief's desk. "This is the beginning of your end you, incompetent ass. When I am done finding my friend, I am taking you down. Believe it!" She turned and walked out of the office. He stood there looking suitably terrified.
Once she had left the building, a figure stepped into the office. "I thought you had that bitch under control Sandy. That chick is section eight and loud. What are you going to do about her? What about that dyke partner of hers? She'll have an army of lesbians picketing this place. Not exactly low profile."