Bare Witness Page #5

Slim's.

I thought you didn't do

that kind of work.

It's not work. It's entertaining.

Besides, I meet interesting people.

I guess it's none of my business.

Slim owns a bar on Pico.

I'm the bartender.

Listen, I'll call you later.

Two brunettes, 500.

Two blonds, 750.

Yeah, they're real. Try to pop them

if you don't believe me.

Hang on a sec.

Hey! We ain't open yet!

I'll call you back.

-Officers, what can I do for you?

-Max Reuter, a.k.a. Slim.

Yeah. That's me.

We'd like to ask you

about Julie Spencer.

Julie? That crazy girl

get herself in trouble again?

Sort of.

Went and got herself dead.

-Jesus. No sh*t?

-No sh*t.

Found her body not far from here.

Any idea how it got there?

What, me? No, I--

That's funny, Slim.

You were her manager, weren't you?

Well, yeah. But look,

Julie freelanced a lot.

She felt I wasn't getting her

good enough gigs. Maybe I wasn't.

But I got 30 girls hustling

for maybe 10 jobs a month.

I'm spread pretty thin over here.

What gigs are we talking about?

Dancing gigs.

-Bachelor parties. Birthdays.

-What about porno?

What about it?

Didn't you hire Julie

for a porno last night?

Nope. Not last night.

We shot a new girl.

Eighteen.

She was the hottest piece of ass

to ever come through my door.

High praise.

A lot of girls come here.

So you let Julie go...

...because you were gonna

use the new piece of ass?

Look, detective.

There was no job.

I never called her.

-I never promised anything.

-So, Slim?

We have a witness who says

you hired Julie for this porno.

No, she's lying!

Now, if you will excuse me,

I have a bar to open.

Funny thing. We never mentioned

if the witness was a he or a she.

We'll be in touch.

Did you get it?

"52 Tokens of Affection."

What is that?

You told me to be

more romantic with Holly.

Each card gives you

a different romantic idea.

I thought you were

swiping his address book.

Chill, okay?

Now give me my cards back.

You need to get

your priorities in order.

-F***ing cards.

-So do you.

Found him today in his condo.

Apparent suicide.

-Who is it?

-Murder weapon in his hand.

Powder residue all over him.

-Who is this guy?

-Name is Gav Reed.

I didn't suspect a thing

until the coroner showed me this.

-Sh*t! That's a silver-tipped .44.

-So what?

Ballistics confirmed Reed was killed

by the same gun fired at Constantine.

Holly? You caught the killer.

Good job.

Not so fast, team. Okay?

Especially not in the age

of Internet news flashes.

One more thing, captain.

I found this in his coat pocket.

It's a key card to

the Barrington Wilshire.

Records show he was checked in

the night of the shooting.

Good work, McGee.

Let's keep this under wraps.

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