Maybe.
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C H A P T E R 7
Tremaine and Nina Aldeen decided to meet at noon at the Rose Café in Venice, a casual breakfast and lunch spot where you could sit outside on the patio, in the sun.
Tremaine arrived, looked around, didn’t see Nina. So he made his way out onto the patio and sat down at a table in the corner. He ordered a cup of coffee and sat there, his head still, his eyes scanning the lunch crowd from behind his glasses. People-watching—always a good way to kill some time.
A few minutes later, Nina entered the patio. As she ducked underneath a tree that sprouted up through the patio bricks, Tremaine thought, yeah, just as I had remembered, beautiful. He got that feeling, the one you get when you see someone for the second time, and they’re better than before. He stood up as she arrived.
B O D Y C O P Y
“Hi, Donald,” she said.
She was wearing bright red lipstick. Tremaine noticed it and noticed again the little glimmer of sadness in her eyes.
This time he knew where it came from.
“Hi, Nina.”
They sat down. A waiter came over, and Nina, too, ordered a cup of coffee.
Tremaine said, “I’ve done a little research on your uncle.
He was an impressive guy.”
“Thank you. His whole life was advertising.”
He couldn’t tell if she was implying something.
“I don’t mean that in a negative way,” she said.
There was his answer.
“When I was little,” she said, “I used to come out here in the summers, and he’d just let me hang around the agency while he worked. It was great because there was all kinds of stuff to play with. Tons of pens, and all kinds of paper and scissors and things. And lots of people, too.”
“Did you stop coming out after a while?”
“High school, you know. I felt that spending time with my friends in Connecticut was more important than spending the summer in an ad agency. Hindsight is twenty-twenty, but I’m sure I would have learned more if I had kept coming out here. All we did in high school was talk about boys and try to get people to buy us beer.”
“Same. Except replace boys with girls and beer with beer, booze, pot, and cigarettes.”
Nina said, “You can smoke cigarettes and still surf com-petitively?”
“I didn’t smoke that many cigarettes.”
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Michael Craven
“What about the other stuff?”
“Let’s get back to the case.”
Nina smiled.
Tremaine said, “What about after college? Did you keep in touch with your uncle then?”
“He offered me a job. But I was married by then, living in Connecticut.”
She paused for a second and said, “I’m not married now.
I got divorced pretty recently.”
She paused for another second and said, “That sounded weird.”
“It’s okay. I’ve been married. And divorced. It never sounds right when you talk about it.”
“Thank you. People don’t realize that. I’m actually writing a book about it. That’s the length I’ll go to so I don’t have to talk about it and sound weird.”
Tremaine laughed. And did his best not to indicate that he, in fact, had read some of her book.
Nina said, “Anyway, I’d talk to my uncle on the phone and stuff still, but at the time of his death, it had been years since I’d seen him.”
“What about your mom? Did she see him?”
“Not really. They were friendly, but my mom was seven years younger than Roger. And lived three thousand miles away. After she married my dad, she started raising a family, and my dad was working long hours and Roger’s ad career was always going a million miles an hour . . . Everybody was busy. The years went by and they just kind of got used to not really seeing each other.
It’s kind of sad when I think about it. You know, I’m 40
B O D Y C O P Y
sure they loved each other, but they didn’t see each other much.”
“So neither you nor your mom really knew him—in a personal way—at the time of his death?”
Nina paused and then said, “Yeah, that’s true. I had never thought of it that way, but I’d say it’s true. We knew his history, and we knew a lot about his business, his agency, partly because we talked about it a lot after the murder. But you’re right, we didn’t really know him anymore. I could see how hurt my mom was when Roger was killed. Maybe there was some regret.”
Tremaine said, “At the time of his death, your uncle held two titles at his ad agency. I know he came up with ad campaigns, but what exactly was his role?”
“It’s confusing, kind of, if you haven’t worked in the business. Ad agencies, basically, are split into two sides, the business side and the creative side. Roger was the head of both. He was the president and the creative director. But really, he was the creative director. Which means he was the boss of all the writers and art directors.”
“And those are the people who sit around all day throwing a football, coming up with ideas for beer commercials?”
“Yeah. Roger determined which of those ideas got presented to the clients.”
“And from what I’ve read, he came up with a lot of stuff himself.”
“Yeah. Constantly.”
“So, if Gale/Parker was presenting an idea for a commercial to somebody, your uncle either thought of it or ap-proved it.”
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Michael Craven
“Yes. And he would go and present the work himself.
The bigger stuff anyway.”
“What about the business side? What was his role there?”
“In terms of the number-crunching and investing and loans and taxes and all that stuff, he basically just signed off on things. He had people doing that for him. What he did do a lot, though, was chase new business.”
“He was a legend. I imagine it was pretty easy for him to get a meeting.”
“Yeah. A lot of times, clients would just give the agency business because of its reputation. Because of his reputation. But most of the time, even if you’re really famous like Gale/Parker, agencies have to come up with something good, then put on a song and dance. And that was his spe-cialty.”
The waiter came around. Nina ordered a Cobb salad.
Tremaine, the eggs Benedict.
“So, bottom line,” Tremaine said, “if Roger Gale weren’t around, Gale/Parker would get less business?”
“Maybe not at first. Because there are a lot of talented people at every good agency. But over time, business would wane because there are only a handful of people as passion-ate and good as Roger was.” Nina looked at Tremaine and said, ”When the investigation was going on, the detectives looked into a work-related connection.”
“Right,” Tremaine said. “Tyler Wilkes, the guy from the other ad agency.”
Tremaine didn’t tell her how he knew this, that he’d obtained the police report. She didn’t ask. If she had asked, he still wouldn’t have told her.
42
B O D Y C O P Y
“Yes,” Nina said. “Tyler Wilkes was their only lead.”
“Mine too. So far.” He then said, “What about Ted Parker? Is he still around?”
“No,” she said. “Ted Parker left Gale/Parker about ten years ago. He’d made his money, he was ready to get out.
So he moved to Hawaii to relax. And, after one month there, he had a heart attack and died.”
Tremaine shook his head and said, “Life can provide some dark twists.” He knew this to be true.
“But the name stayed?” he said. “Gale/Parker?”
“Yeah. The agency was famous by then, but more than that, Roger wanted Ted’s name to stay.”
Tremaine said, “And that meant it was going to.”
The waiter came back around, this time to deliver their lunch. He put their plates down and said, “The salad for the lady, and the Benedict for Insane Tremaine.”
Tremaine managed a polite enough smile.
Nina said, “What does that mean?”
“I have no idea.”
Nina gave him a sly smile, “What is that, a nickname?”
“I have no idea how he knew my name or why he decided to make a little rhyme out of it.”
“Come on.”
“All right. When I was surfing professionally, some guys made a video of me called
Insane Tremaine
.”
“Why did they call it that? What was insane about it?”
“Some of the waves were large. I never liked the title.”
“Why? Trying too hard?”
“Yeah. And I never felt insane when I rode those big waves. I felt scared, but not insane.”
“If you were scared, why’d you do it?”
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Michael Craven
“I liked it. It was challenging. And, even with the fear, I always felt like I could do it, make the drops. Of course, I was often wrong. I was often very, very wrong”
“What happened when you fell?”
“It could be pretty ugly. That was the main reason for the title of the movie. There was a section of the film that was just a montage of one wipeout after the next. I got absolutely pulverized many, many times. People enjoyed watching that for some reason.”
“I think I’d like to see that.”
Tremaine smiled.
Then Nina said, “How long were you the number one surfer in the world?”
“Not long. The year I received the number one ranking, I quit the tour.”
He knew the question coming next, but he was prepared.
“Really? Why’d you quit?”
“I’m the P.I. here. I ask the questions.”
“Seriously, why did you quit? All the time you must have put in, you were probably still very young.”
“I was twenty-four years old.”
“So, why did you quit?”
Tremaine took just a hair longer than normal to say, “It was time.”
Nina didn’t ask again.
After lunch, Tremaine walked Nina to her car.
Nina said, “So, I’ll call the office manager at Gale/
Parker. She’s great. She’ll make sure you talk to all the right 44
B O D Y C O P Y
people. When do you want to go over there?”
“As soon as possible. Gale/Parker’s the first place on my list.”
“You’ll like Laurie. Laurie Donnelly’s her name. She was one of the first employees. She’s worked there for twenty years. And has the attitude to prove it.”
“Attitude?”
“Not toward people she likes. And she’ll like you, because I hired you. And I’m related to Roger Gale, whom she’s totally loyal to.”
“Who doesn’t she like?”
“Laurie’s seen the agency go from a small little shop to a global force. Nowadays everyone at Gale/Parker is hipper and holier-than-thou. So, if some hotshot with dyed hair and a really good résumé tries to tell her how things should be at the agency, she lets them have it. By the way, she’s also a big flirt, so be prepared.”
Tremaine laughed at that.
Then Nina said, “Not to pry, I know you know what you’re doing, but you said Gale/Parker is first on your list.
What else is on your list?“
“Tyler Wilkes is on my list. Roger’s widow, Evelyn, is on my list.”
“Right. Check out his work life and his home life.”
“Bingo. And, by the way, you’re allowed to pry. You’re the boss.”
Nina got in her car, the black Volvo, and she sat in the passenger seat talking to Tremaine through the open window.
“I hope Evelyn is helpful. She’s very buttoned up and old-fashioned.”
“That’s okay, it’s always good to meet people, even 45
Michael Craven
people who don’t like talking. You never know what they’re going to give you, even if it’s by accident.”
Nina thought about that and nodded. And Tremaine looked at her, sitting behind the wheel of the sleek black Volvo wagon. She was strapped in by the seatbelt, and he couldn’t help but notice again how her features all fell together so nicely. The dark hair, the pale skin, and the red lipstick. In that moment, looking at her looking great behind the wheel of the car, Tremaine wanted to just get in the passenger seat and drive off to no place in particular.
46
C H A P T E R 8
Two days later, Tremaine got up, went for a surf, fed Lyle, then got into his Cutlass and hit the road, headed toward the famous Gale/Parker advertising agency.
He hung a left at the Lincoln-Longfellow intersec-tion in Playa del Rey, then took another left down a short little side street called Flower Avenue. And there it was.
A giant remodeled airplane hangar, with a second story attached, lots of enormous windows, and a bright orange paint job. Atop the second story, a flag flew, a flag that said Gale/Parker with a stick of dynamite between the two names.
He pulled the Cutlass in between two three-series BMWs. He noticed each of the cars proudly bore Gale/
Parker bumper stickers. The bumper stickers had the Michael Craven
Gale/Parker logo, dynamite and all, and underneath the logo, it said the harder you work, the better the work.
Tremaine said, “Yeah, I guess so,” and got out of the Cutlass and walked toward the entrance. The entrance was on the second story. You had to walk up some out-door steps to get to the door, and Tremaine could see from down on the ground that there was a little reception area once you got inside. That was the only thing the second story was for—the reception area. Once inside, Tremaine assumed, you headed down the slightly declining tunnel that was connected to the agency. Tremaine thought, up to the second floor to get to the first floor?
The door to the balcony outside the reception area swung open and out came Nina Aldeen.
She waved from up on the balcony and said, “Donald!”
Tremaine looked up, waved, walked up the stairs to greet Nina.
“You found it okay?” she said.
Tremaine considered saying something like “hard to miss,” but figured everyone probably said that, so he just said, “Yeah, no problem.”
“Great. Let’s go inside.”
Nina and Tremaine walked into the reception area. Nina thanked the receptionist and guided Tremaine toward the tunnel that led into the hangar, the agency. The tunnel was white on all sides and Tremaine could see activity at the end of it, people walking by, an office in full swing. Tremaine remembered the modern style from the virtual tour, but now he was seeing and feeling it firsthand. It felt interesting, different, impressive.
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B O D Y C O P Y
Nina said, “Roger helped design the agency, so when you see it for the first time, it’s revealed to you all at once.”