Limits of Justice, The Read Free

reveal the real Rod Preston.”
    “What makes you think there’s something sordid and sensational in Randall Capri’s past?”
    “I’m sure anyone who writes books like that lives in the gutter.”
    “Maybe, maybe not.”
    “I’ve done some asking around. I’ve heard a few things.”
    “Feel like sharing?”
    “He frequents gay bathhouses, for starters.”
    “That’s not against the law.”
    “Uses cocaine, other illicit drugs.”
    “More promising.”
    “There were supposedly some bad checks, before his books started selling.”
    “Helpful, if we can verify it.”
    “I suspect that he cheated my father out of some money years ago, by filling out signed blank checks my father had given him for more than he was actually owed.”
    “Why would Rod Preston entrust blank checks to a guy like Capri?”
    “My father was a trusting man, too trusting. Capri apparently was doing some public relations work for him, with open-ended expenses. I have the canceled checks right here, along with some other papers and documents that might prove helpful to you.”
    “If I decide to become involved in all this.”
    She gave me a quick glance, then leaned down, reached into her tote bag, and pulled out a bulging accordion file. When it was on the table, facing me, I saw Randall Capri’s name printed in sturdy block letters.
    “Your file or your father’s?”
    “Father’s—I found it in the study of his Beverly Hills house, where he stayed when he wasn’t up in Montecito. I’m not quite sure what’s in it, besides the checks I mentioned.”
    “Your father pressed charges over the inflated checks?”
    She shook her head, making her short curls bounce.
    “My father made quite a bit of money, Mr. Justice. I doubt these sums were worth the trouble it would have taken to prosecute, or the negative publicity it would have generated. There is an exchange of letters between them, which I glanced over. They seem to indicate Capri’s guilt in the matter.”
    “That could be useful.”
    “It seems rather conclusive to me—Capri’s totally disreputable.”
    “There’s an old saying in journalism, Charlotte: Assume nothing, check everything.”
    “You’ll work with me then?”
    “Let me get this straight: I do the research and ghostwrite your book, your name goes on it, and that ends my participation in the deal.”
    She nodded with enthusiasm.
    “I’ll do some editing, of course, a few changes here and there.”
    “For fifty grand, you can change every word if you want.”
    “You can have all the money, even any royalties that might ensue. I’ll promote the book, go on all the talk shows, just the way the parasites like Randall Capri do. I’ll give a thousand interviews if that’s what it takes. All I want is for the truth to be told.”
    “What if the truth isn’t what you think it is?”
    She thrust out her chin defiantly.
    “I knew my father, Mr. Justice. He was a good, decent man. If he’d been the way Randall Capri claims he was, my mother would have told me. They went through a bitter divorce. I’m sure she would have said something to me.”
    “Not if she’s discreet. They’re both of another generation.”
    “I suppose that’s possible. But not the sexual behavior Capri alleges. Not young boys. I’ll bet everything I own that Capri was just working from his own sick fantasies.”
    “You’ve questioned your mother about it?”
    She hesitated, while the eyes took a dip.
    “Mother and I haven’t spoken in some time.”
    “Why is that?”
    Charlotte shrugged, a little too conveniently.
    “I was always closer to my father. He raised me, after the divorce.”
    “He was awarded custody?”
    “Yes, although I spent a lot of time away, in private schools. Still, Father was very good to me. He made sure I had the best of everything, that I felt loved.”
    “It’s unusual, isn’t it, the father getting custody?”
    She picked up her cup, sipped at her lukewarm coffee, buying a little