“Swimming with the sharks,” he said. “Stupid delusional kid. But who was she waiting for that night at the Fauborg?”

“Maybe Connie.”

“You said she looked like she was out on a date.”

“Yes, I did.”

The elevator arrived. Empty. Once we were inside, he searched for cameras, found nothing but didn’t speak.

When we were back in the parking lot, he said, “Connie’s relationship with Tara was more than business?”

I smiled. “It happens.”

“A threesome,” he said. “Tara, Connie, and Steve-o, sex and money all meshed up together. Oh, man, that’s more than a soap opera. More like a reality show.”

“American Idolatry?”

We both laughed.

I said, “One more thing: Tara’s ambitions could’ve been fueled by promises Suss made to her, as in permanent relationship.”

“Leaving his wife for his bimbo?”

“Whether or not he meant it, it wouldn’t have seemed outlandish. Check out the society photos in any Westside throwaway. Geezers with arm candy.”

“Then he dies and she’s nothing but an ex-chippie. Yeah, that could motivate some serious foolishness.”

“In order to keep her believing, he bought her some bling.”

“The watch.”

“Jewelry would be attractive to Tara, because it’s relatively liquid and she could sell it privately without paying taxes. She wore the watch in front of Muhrmann but what if Suss gave her a lot of other baubles that she kept from him and Connie? If they’d found out, there’s yet another motive to punish her.”

“So the date at the Fauborg was a setup from their perspective. But what was Tara expecting?”

“A night of fun.”

In the car, he said, “They plan to kill her, why go public at a hotel and risk being seen?”

“Muhrmann never went inside, it’s only a fluke that we noticed him. Neil the waiter told us no one appeared during his shift, so maybe Connie never showed and Tara left and met up with Muhrmann. He told her there’d been a change in plans, Connie had rented a party pad in the Palisades. They drove to a predetermined spot where Connie was waiting and the two of them finished her off with a .45 and a shotgun. They went for overkill because Tara’s extortion had made it personal. Obscuring her face had the added bonus of making it tough to identify her. And it worked. We still don’t know who she really is.”

“Rub it in … okay, let’s do some drive-bys, see where these people bunk down.”

We took Laurel Canyon into the Valley, picked up the 134 west to the White Oak exit, headed south and crossed Ventura Boulevard, and climbed into the hills of prime Encino.