Weathers looked at Banfer. Banfer nodded.

“Wild guess? I’d say half a dozen.”

“What jobs did you fill for them?”

“I believe there were a couple of domestics. Housekeepers. We don’t do that anymore, can’t compete with the domestic-specialty agencies, all those ads they run in the Spanish papers. But back then we did, so probably that’s it. Couple of domestics.”

He turned to Banfer. “This is okay?”

“So far, Jack.”

Milo said, “You’re worried about Premadonny’s gag clause?”

“Hell, yeah,” said Weathers. “We’re talking damn stringent.”

“As opposed to …”

Banfer said, “Clauses that are less stringent.” He smiled at his own obfuscation.

Milo said, “Educate me, Counselor.”

“It’s nothing complicated, Milo. Default is generally a ban on talking to the media, publishing a book, that kind of thing. This particular clause covers virtually every single syllable uttered about Premadonny to anyone on any topic. Is it legally binding? Probably not, but testing that theory would bring considerable anguish. In any event, Jack’s told you everything he knows about the Chambord woman and Ms. Betts.”

“Then on to the next topic,” said Milo, pulling out the enlargement of Melvin Jaron Wedd’s DMV photo.

Floyd Banfer’s face remained blank.

Jack Weathers said, “Oh, shit.”

CHAPTER
38

Floyd Banfer placed a hand on Jack Weathers’s cashmere sleeve. “He’s also one of yours?”

Milo said, “Who is he, Jack?”

Weathers wrung his hands. “A guy … M.J.”

Milo said, “Melvin Jaron Wedd. When did you place him at the compound?”

Weathers muttered something.

“Speak up, Jack.”

“Three years ago. Give or take.”

“What’s his job title?”

“Estate manager,” said Weathers. “I’d placed him before, similar thing.”

“Whose estate did he manage before?”

“Saudi family, gigantic place in Bel Air. Four, five years ago.”

“And before then?”

“No, that was the first. They had no problems with him—the Arabs. They moved back to Riyadh.”

“So you sent him to Premadonny.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

“Who solicited your help?”

“Business manager.”

“Who’s that?”

Weathers’s eyes traveled to the right. “Not the manager directly, some assistant.”

Floyd Banfer said, “Or some assistant’s assistant.”

Weathers regarded his nephew crossly. “That’s the way it goes with people at their level.”

Milo said, “Who’s their business manager?”

“Apex Management. They handle a lot of the biggies.”

“What do you remember about M.J.?”

“A guy,” said Weathers. “I think he had some bookkeeping experience. Him I did check out. What’s the problem with him?”

“Maybe nothing, Jack.”

“Maybe nothing but you’re carrying around his picture?”

“His name came up.”

“Meaning?”

“His name came up.”

Weathers waved a hand. “Frankly, I don’t want to know. Now can I go and try to pay some bills? I’m no civil servant, got no cushy pension and overtime.”

Milo said, “Sure. Have a nice day.”

“Sure?”

“Unless you’ve got something more to tell us, Jack.”