“Fair enough. You arrange everything—the food, the transportation, the side excursions—and I’ll show up and won’t complain the entire trip. Just point me in the right direction.”

“I’ll lead you in the right direction,” Rina told him. “I’ll even hold your hand.”

EACH CD WAS encased in its own plastic bag, both of them sitting on top of Decker’s desk with the same photo of Martel’s sneering visage gracing the front of the jewel boxes. Marge picked one up by the corner and read the name. “You get these from Marilyn Eustis?”

“I found them on the shelves in Primo Ekerling’s office. Eustis told me I could keep them.”

“Better still. A direct chain between Ekerling and Martel.” She yawned. “You’re having the lab dust them for prints?”

“Yes.”

“Hoping to find Travis’s print so he can’t say that someone else sent them in without his knowing or that you planted the boxes.”

“Exactly.”

“Although even if they had Martel’s prints, he could still say that.”

“Maybe with one jewel box, but it’s harder to explain away two of them. Plus in one of the jewel boxes, there’s a note. I’ve called in a handwriting expert to try and match the note to Martel.”

“Great. Have you informed Hollywood yet?”

“I’d like to pull up a print before I call them.” Decker rolled his shoulders in an attempt to loosen his muscles. “What I really want is a crack at Travis Martel, get him to admit some involvement in Ekerling’s murder.”

“Why would Travis do that?” She yawned again.

“Didn’t get much sleep last night?” Decker smiled.

“None of your beeswax.” Marge pulled up a chair and sat down, crossing her legs at the knees. Her black slacks rode up, exposing her ankles, and to her horror, she noticed one black sock and one navy sock. She quickly uncrossed her legs. “I repeat. Why would Martel implicate himself in a murder if his defense is boosting a car and joyriding?”

“Maybe I can convince him that if he doesn’t tell us the truth, Rudy Banks is more than willing to tell lies about him.” Decker explained his theory about Rudy Banks hiring out thugs to do his dirty work. “Trouble is, we don’t have a link between Banks and Martel other than the lyrics of his rap song saying B and E.” He smiled. “That’s where my smooth lies and my superior interviewing skills might come in handy.”

“And you think Hollywood will let you interview Travis Martel?”

“I think so, especially if I find Martel’s prints on the CD box. Garrett and Diaz will be delighted to have a connection between Travis and Ekerling. It punches a hole in the story that the punks just boosted a random car and had no idea who Ekerling was and that he was in the trunk.”