"This dude's seen Avatar six times," said Raley.
Nikki read on. " 'Unfortunately, the owner of this ribbon had rewound and reused the ribbon at the end of each spool, causing overstrikes which have obliterated most of the retrievable text.' "
"Cassidy was cheap," offered Rook. "That's already in my article."
"Is any of this ribbon readable?" asked Ochoa.
"Hang on." Nikki scan-read the rest of the e-mail and summarized. "He says he flagged those images that at least had some promise for us to examine. He's sending the ribbon to get X-rayed to see if more can be read on it. That takes time, but he'll let us know… He's happy to…"
"Happy to what?" said Ochoa.
"Live in his parents' basement," suggested Rook.
But Raley read the last line over Nikki's shoulder. " 'I am happy to have the privilege of doing any favor I can for the famous Detective Nikki Heat.' "
Nikki caught Rook's grimace but moved on. "Let's split these up and start screening them."
Raley and Ochoa each took a block of screen captures, about fifteen apiece, and brought them up on their desk monitors. This was one area where Jameson Rook's knowledge of the victim would clearly be useful, so Nikki entrusted him with a series of files to examine, too, at the desk he had claimed. The remaining prospects she kept for her own perusal.
The work was tedious and time-consuming. Each image had to be opened separately and looked over carefully for any words or, hopefully, sentences to make sense out of the blur. Raley commented that it was like staring at one of those matrix posters they used to have in malls, where, if you squinted the right way, you might see a seagull or a puppy. Ochoa said it was more like looking for the weeping Virgin on the trunk of a tree or Joaquin Phoenix on a piece of burned toast.
Nikki didn't mind their banter. It made the arduous task merely grueling. As her eyes strained and squinted at her own screen, she reminded them of her tenets of good investigation. Rule #1: The time line is your friend. Rule #2: Some of the best detective work is desk work.
"Right about now, I've got a third rule," called Ochoa from his desk. "Take the early retirement."
"Got something," said Rook. All three detectives gathered behind his chair, glad for the excuse to get away from their own desks and monitors, even if it was for nothing. "It's some decipherable words, anyway. Five words."
Nikki leaned around Rook to bring herself closer to his screen. Her breast grazed his shoulder, an accident. She felt her face flush but soon got pulled from that distraction by the image on his computer. stab me n th back
"OK, this is frame 0430. 'Stab me in the back.' " Nikki could feel a small release of adrenaline. "Bring up 0429 and 0431."
Raley said, "I think I've got 0429," and hurried back to his desk while Rook brought up 0431, which was garbled and unreadable. They had all gathered behind Raley already by the time he said, "Come look."
His screen, displaying the frame before "stab me in the back," had a name typed on it. And every one of them knew it. Heat and Rook stood against the back wall of the Chelsea rehearsal hall watching Soleil Gray with six male dancers run through choreography for her new music video. "Not that I don't enjoy my backstage access," said Rook, "but if we know Tex is the killer, why are we bothering with her?"
"We know Cassidy was writing about Soleil because of the typewriter ribbons. And the Texan stole them, right?"
"So you think Soleil and Tex are connected?"
The detective flexed her lips into an inverted U. "I don't know that they aren't. Now I have a question for you. Did Cassidy have any tension with our rock star?"
"No more than any other. Which is to say plenty. She tended to open her columns with Soleil's rehab lapses. Most of it is past history, though. Things I found in archives when I was doing research. Back in the day, Soleil had a wilder side and that always made good copy for 'Buzz Rush.' "
Six years ago, when she was twenty-two, Soleil Gray had been a brooding Emo icon, when Emo was the thing. Although, when the rock band you front has a couple of gold records and you can fill a summer's worth of venues in North America, Europe, and Australia-and you're traveling to them on Citation jets-there's not too much to brood about. The early songs she wrote and sang lead vocals on, like "Barbed Wire Heart," "Mixed Massages," and notably, from the band's second CD, "Virus in Your Soul," made millions and earned reviewer raves. Rolling Stone called her the distaff, pre-hype John Mayer, basically looking right past the rest of the band to the pale lead singer who was perennially staring through a curtain of black sloping bangs with despondent green eyes framed by mascara.
Rumors of drug use gained traction when Soleil started arriving hours late for concerts and, eventually, missing some altogether. A YouTube cell phone video capturing her on stage at Toad's Place in New Haven went viral, showing her wasted and hoarse, forgetting her own lyrics even with the audience trying to prompt her. Soleil busted up Shades of Gray in 2008. She said it was to go solo. It was more like to go party. The singer-songwriter went a year and a half without writing or recording anything.
Even though clubs and drugs replaced studios and concerts, Soleil stayed in the spotlight after she hooked up with Reed Wakefield, the hot young film actor whose own taste for New York nightlife and ingested substances matched her own. The difference was that Reed Wakefield was able to maintain his career. The couple moved into her East Village apartment after he started shooting Magnitude Once Removed, a costume drama in which he played the illegitimate son of Benjamin Franklin. The filming outlasted their affair, which was volatile and punctuated by late-night police visits. Having already broken up her band, Soleil broke up her relationship with Reed and buried her pain in the recording studio with long sessions, creative disputes, and not much output.
The previous May, just days after he had returned to New York from Cannes, where he received a special jury prize for his role as the bastard son of France's first American ambassador, Reed Wakefield pulled a Heath Ledger and died of an accidental drug overdose.
The impact on Soleil was profound. Once again, she stopped working, but this time to go into rehab. She emerged from the Connecticut facility clean and focused. The very day after her release, she was back in the recording studio to lay down tracks for the ballad she had written on her bunk bed in the Fairfield County manor as her farewell to the actor she had loved. "Reed and Weep" got split reviews. Some thought it was a sensitive anthem to the fragility of life and enduring loss. Others called it a shameless derivative of "Fire and Rain" by James Taylor and REM's "Everybody Hurts." But it debuted on the charts in the Top 10. Soleil Gray had officially begun her elusive solo career.
She had also changed how she presented herself to the world. And, as Heat and Rook watched her run through a track from her new CD, Reboot My Life, they saw a woman whose career and new hard body had undergone a radical makeover.
The blaring music ended and the choreographer called a five. Soleil protested. "No, let's go again; these guys move like they've got snowshoes on." She went to her first position, her muscles gleaming in the harsh light of the rehearsal room. The male dancers, panting, formed up behind her, but the choreographer shook his head to the playback engineer. "Fine. Remember this, dickweed, when we're shooting and you wonder why it sucks," Soleil said to him and stormed toward the door.