Chapter 15
THREE DAYS HAD passed since Shelby Cushman had been murdered. Still no charges had been filed, and I couldn’t get a peep one way or the other out of the DA’s office.
I had breakfast with Andy in his office, a corner in a smart new office building on Avenue of the Stars.
Andy told his assistant not to put through any calls. Then he eased shut his office door. I could barely recognize his drawn face. There were bags under his eyes, and he’d obviously stopped shaving.
“I’m not sleeping,” he said. “In case you missed that, Jack.”
He gulped down his coffee as he unlocked his file cabinets, pulled folders, and explained to me what a very successful hedge fund manager did to keep his edge in Los Angeles.
“These people out here, actors, agents, studio heads, lawyers to the stars,” he said, waving his arm so it took in the whole of Hollywood, “they make tens of millions. They don’t know what to do with it, so they give it to me. I invest it for them. I get a percentage of whatever I invest for my clients,” he said. “Five percent, usually.”
“And if the investments tank?” I said, thinking of the housing meltdown, the credit crunch, money swirling down the drain, taking with it the well-heeled and struggling alike.
“People hold it against you if you lose their money, even if it’s not your fault.”
“So you’ve got disgruntled clients.”
Andy sighed.
“You want the truth, Jack?”
“No, for Christ’s sake. Please lie to me, Andy. The more you lie, the more likely it is that you’re going to go to trial. I know the DA. He’s going to sic one of his young sharks on you, and they’re going to tear you into great bloody chunks—”
“Stop,” he said.
“If someone wants to hurt you, I have to know about it. C’mon, Andy. You have to tell me everything. This is Jack.”
“I was skimming,” Andy said. It came out just like that—with no preface or warning. “I’m no Bernie Madoff, so don’t look at me like that. I’d charge a fee, then I’d take a little of the principal off the top and ride the investment for myself. I was careful. But shit happens, and you can’t let the clients know, of course.”
“I’m listening.”
“My investments dove in the first wave. You remember when Lehman went under? I doubled down, tried to recoup my losses, and lost even more. A couple of my clients got burned to the ground.”
“Give me the files, Andy. I want to see your biggest losers. I want to know exactly who they are. No more secrets.”