“Too put-together for a prostitute?” I said.
“For a street girl, yes. Too conservatively dressed for your basic hooker. A higher-priced spread? Maybe. Why?”
“No dinner date,” I said. “Hooking up for one purpose.”
“You see a kid like Gavin knowing how to find himself a nice-looking pro like that? He was dressed like a student, it’s not like he put on a Zegna suit and trolled the B.H. hotels with a wad of cash.”
“But growing up in B.H. he might know about the hotels. With enough cash in his pocket, he’d be in a position to negotiate.”
“We found thirty bucks in his wallet.”
“What if he’d already paid the girl, and she had the money? Her purse is missing. If so, robbery would have been icing on the cake for the bad guy.”
“A call girl doing an outdoor trick with a brain-damaged kid,” he said.
“That’s the thing about some closed-head injuries. The problems can be subtle. Unless you knew what Gavin was like before, he wouldn’t have come across brain-damaged. Just a clean-cut kid driving a cute little red convertible. We know he could be impulsive and compulsive, and maybe that’s what led him to approach a pro. He’d have his needs—especially since the relationship with Kayla Bartell was over.”
“Koppel say why they broke up?”
“She assumed it was due to the accident. I don’t get the feeling she really knew much about Gavin.”
“A pro,” he said. “A young, horny guy, his girl breaks up with him, maybe his confidence slipped . . . could be.”
“Something else,” I said. “His talk about digging up dirt. What if he actually followed up on his tabloid dreams? What better place to nab a celebrity than an expensive hotel?”
“He starts out trawling for movie stars and picks up a pro?”
“Youthful impulsiveness heightened by brain damage.”
“Okay,” he said, “I’ll check out the concierges at all the Beverly Hoo-Has. Not that they’re going to admit letting pros through the door. I’ll also ask BHPD if they know her, as well as show her picture to our Vice guys. Meanwhile, she’s just a well-dressed blonde.”
“Anything traceable in her clothing?”
“The blouse was DKNY, Calvin Klein thong panties and pushup bra, no label in the leggings. Good shoes. Excellent shoes—Jimmy Choo. From what I hear, that’s a serious investment. There’s a Jimmy Choo store right in B.H, on Little Santa Monica, so I went over there. We’re talking five, six hundred bucks for a spike and a strap. No one recognized her as a customer, but when I described the shoe, the saleswoman knew it right away. Two seasons old, coulda been bought at discount at Neiman’s, Barneys, whatever.”
“Expensive shoes,” I said. “Well put-together. You’d think someone like that would be missed.”
“Sure, but a girl living alone, it could take a while for someone to realize she’s missing. It looks like this is gonna be a long, drawn-out deal. Thanks for your help, Alex. If I learn anything, I’ll let you know.”
*
I picked Allison up outside her office. Her hair was loose, and she laced her fingers through mine and kissed me hard. Neither of us was hungry, and we opted for movie first, food later. An old Coen Brothers film, Blood Simple, was playing at the Aero, a few blocks up on Montana. Allison had never seen it. I had, but the picture merited a second look.
We left the theater shortly after nine and drove over to Hakata on Wilshire where we sat in a booth, away from the rock-star posters and the good cheer of the sushi bar, and ordered sake and salmon skin salad and steak teriyaki and mixed sashimi.
I asked Allison how she’d have treated Gavin Quick.
“When I get head injuries they’ve usually been through a complete neuropsych eval,” she said. “If they haven’t, I send them for one. If the testing pinpoints deficits, I recommend some targeted special ed. With that out of the way, I concentrate on marshaling the patient’s strengths.”
“Supportive therapy.”
“Sometimes they need more than that. The challenge is learning to deal with a whole new world. But sure, support’s a big part of it. It can be tough, Alex. Two steps backwards for every step forward, lots of mood changes, and you never know what the end result will be. Basically you’ve got a person who knows he’s not what he used to be and feels helpless to change.”