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Later that morning, Julia called a council of war. That’s not what she called it; she merely opened the kitchen door, glared at Will, Ben and Mason and said, “Office, now,” but once they were there it was clearly a council of war.

“I’ve been thinking,” Julia announced. “And I have questions.”

Will nodded. “I am ready for your questions.”

Ben said, “I doubt I’ll have anything to contribute, but I’ll try.”

Mason said, “I’m barely alive. I’ve only had two cups of coffee. Don’t try me.” She’d finally gotten two hours of sleep after the hospital and woken up from a nightmare of trying to stuff Robert’s brains back into his skull while Julia rode a bicycle naked around the pool. It hadn’t been a restful dream. She needed more coffee. She needed a meeting. She wanted three Adderall and a shot of tequila.

Julia paced back and forth in front of the sofa.

“Firstly, we now know Jack Simon’s death was not connected to Tony’s.”

Will nodded. “Insofar as he was killed by his boyfriend in a momentary lapse of control.”

“Right.”

“Unless Tony was also killed in a momentary lapse of control.”

Julia paused. “It doesn’t feel spontaneous like that. Someone had to follow him here, take a position where they couldn’t be seen, shoot him and get away.”

“Yes,” said Will. “It’s a plan, but not a fantastic plan. Why here? They couldn’t know you would be drunk; you could have been sharp as a tack and spotted them.” He lifted his shirt and scratched his stomach, comfortably. “There are so many other places they could have done it.”

“Maybe they planned to kill me, too,” said Julia. “Maybe Claudia’s return threw them off.”

“Why would they kill you?”

“Beats me,” said Julia.

“Doesn’t beat me,” muttered Mason, still wishing she had a third cup of coffee. As if by magic, the door opened and Claudia appeared with a fresh pot and warm beignets.

“You didn’t give them a chance to finish breakfast,” she said sourly, putting the tray down. She left, Lorre following her out. He was no fool, plus he didn’t think he was adding much to the conversation.

“How did they get away?” asked Ben. He was still looking worried, and Mason had realized this was his standard expression. He had Resting Anxious Face.

Julia said, “Presumably between me running off with the car and the cops arriving. Claudia was inside the house calling for help and I was halfway down the hill. Clear path. Assuming, that is, that they didn’t just leave after they shot Tony, because I was too drunk to notice.”

Ben nodded.

“And what about this business of a will? That feels somewhat random. Tony had a will in place. Why would he write a new one?”

“Presumably because he changed his mind about something. Maybe he didn’t want to leave me the studio after all, on account of realizing I wouldn’t…” Julia paused, her finger held up. “Wait…something’s coming back to me. We did talk about the studio…” She frowned. “Nope, it’s gone again.”

“But the assailant asked Maggie for it, so they assumed it’s at the club. Why would it be there?”

“Because Tony trusted Maggie to keep his secrets. Maybe he didn’t want it publicly known that he’d changed his mind. Thus not using his regular lawyer?”

“Although Cody did say Tony wanted to talk to his lawyer before he died.”

Julia looked at Mason. “Let’s you and me go to the club and snoop about.”

“Does it have to be today? I’m not…”

“Yes. We can’t go in the evenings; it’s open and way too busy. No time like the present.”

“Does it have to be me? Take Will.”

“No, you’re my assistant. I want you to assist.”

“Wait,” said Will. “Are you thinking Sam’s death is connected, too, now?”

“No, I’m not sure about anything. But let’s get down there and check it out. Just because Maggie doesn’t know she has it, it doesn’t mean she doesn’t have it.” There was a pause. Then Julia added, “That sentence didn’t even make sense to me. Sorry. Let’s go look—it won’t hurt.”

But that’s where she was wrong.

Danny Agosti was not happy to see them.

“Why are you here?” he asked, facing them across Maggie’s desk. Her office had been a surprise to Mason. It was like every back office she’d ever been in; very little about it suggested glamor or burlesque in any way. Office supply catalogs and papers were piled on the desk, last year’s calendar (naked cowboys, for what it’s worth) still hung on the wall, a small bookcase held a dictionary, a few copies of Variety , and various other books. Apart from a rhinestone bra dangling over a chair, it could have been anyone’s office.

Mason was turning slowly, looking over every inch of the room. Something was itching at the corner of her mind, but she couldn’t bring it to the surface. She kept looking, hoping it would come to her.

“Maybe Sam was killed because she knew or saw something,” suggested Julia. “Did she have a locker?”

“Yes,” said Agosti, reaching in a desk drawer for a set of keys. “I want this sorted out as much as you do. Let’s go.”

Sam’s locker had been searched by the police, and there wasn’t much there. A few clothes, a copy of Save the Cat! (a screenwriting classic), some photos of her and Becky. Julia was disappointed.

“What about Becky’s locker?” asked Mason suddenly. “They were together a lot. Maybe…”

Becky’s locker was a crowded clusterfuck of underwear, makeup, tangled headphones and loose dollar bills. Mason opened the door and stepped back as a load of things fell to the ground. She guessed the police had searched it, too, but hadn’t bothered to organize it afterward.

“Why does this not surprise me?” she asked no one in particular. She bent to pick everything up and managed to clonk her head really hard on the open locker door as she stood up.

Ouch. Fuck. She reached up and felt a goose egg already rising on the crown of her head. Great, now she was going to have a headache to add to her litany of complaints.

But something had joggled loose. Something she’d seen. Something she remembered.

“Wait here,” she gasped, and turned and ran out of the room.

“I don’t understand how you knew where it was.” Will was staring at Mason, who was still flushed with triumph.

“She’s smarter than she looks,” said Julia, taking off her coat and putting it on the office sofa. She reached out and gave him the will. “Apparently, she saw the hollow book in The Codex and recognized it on the shelf in Maggie’s office.”

Mason nodded. “Right, in the movie there’s a gun in it, but I saw it on the shelf and it just didn’t fit with everything else, too ornate. It took me a while to realize where I’d seen it before.” She grinned. “And a clonk on the head with the sharp edge of a locker door, but whatever.”

“Tony had lots of props at the office and at his house, so he must have put it there himself at some point while Maggie was away. It was witnessed by Sam and Becky, who apparently didn’t realize its importance. Next time I see her I’m going to smack her.” Julia was exasperated.

Will shrugged. “Pointless.” He took the document from Julia and scanned it. “This doesn’t make any sense. It’s dated the day before he was killed, but the changes aren’t…He leaves the studio to Christine and Cody, except for ten percent he leaves to the Entertainment Community Fund in Jonathan’s name.” He looked at Julia. “You don’t remember him discussing this with you?”

“Actually, yes, I do. Once I read it, that part came back. I think originally he’d wanted to leave me part of the studio to make up for Jonathan’s losing it. But he knew I wouldn’t want to run the studio, and he was right. And there’s one other difference: He gives Christine the controlling share, forty-six percent to Cody’s forty-four…and that, along with the rights to the complete movie back catalog, without The Codex carved out, means it’s her studio.”

“Is that enough to kill for?”

Julia shook her head. “That’s the part that confuses me. I mean yes, sure, having ultimate control might be worth killing for, but Christine really didn’t seem that upset about the way the older will did it. If anything, she seemed amused by it.” She turned to Mason. “Right? I mean, she must have discussed it with him at some point. She seemed to think he was leaving the whole thing to her, but when the will didn’t reflect that she rolled with it.”

Mason nodded and shrugged. “That’s how it seemed to me, but who knows with her.”

“He also left everything in his memorabilia collection to the museum, everything, just as Patty said he’d promised. And Helen gets the properties and the money, just the same. He gives the ten percent of the burlesque club back to Maggie—that’s different.”

“We’re missing something,” said Will. “We must be. The will is important, but it doesn’t completely prove Christine killed Tony. It just gives her a motive.”

Julia was gazing at the ceiling. “I have an idea.”

She looked at her colleagues.

“But you’re probably not going to like it.”