“Maybe,” Jamil said unconvincingly. “But I checked with a half dozen taxi companies that operate in that area and none of them has a record of anyone being picked up near the hospital and then dropped off near the studio.”
“What about rideshare?” Trembley offered.
“I guess it’s possible,” Jamil said doubtfully. “We’d need a warrant to check that detailed level of data. But even if she took one to the studio, how would she get a ride back to the hospital without her phone?”
Trembley didn’t answer. Jessie didn’t want to linger on his disappointment or rub it in so she moved on quickly.
“Thanks, Jamil. Anything else?”
“I got the GPS phone data back on Willem Struce from Sunday,” he said.
“Oh, great,” Jessie replied. “We’re going to meet him now.”
“That works out well, because you may have something new to talk about.”
“What’s that?”
“He told you he was home all night on Sunday, right?”
“Yup,” Jessie confirmed.
“Well, his phone suggests something different, as does his car. Both of them show him driving to somewhere near the corner of Santa Monica and Las Palmas boulevards, about fifteen minutes from his house. According to the data, he left his house around ten fifteen and returned at twelve twenty-one a.m.”
“Any idea what’s at that intersection?” Jessie asked.
“It’s kind of an industrial section of Hollywood,” Jamil said. “There are some smaller studio lots nearby. It’s also residential once you get off the main streets. It looks like he may have gone into a nearby apartment building but I can’t be sure. Or he could have just left his phone and gone somewhere else from there. Sovereign Studios is only one point five miles away, that’s a five-minute drive or a thirty-minute walk. And there’s one more thing.”
“You have been busy,” Jessie said admiringly. “What is it?”
“Before all this came out, I was reviewing the security camera footage from Struce’s house on Sunday night and there was a little glitch. I checked with the Tech folks and they say it appears to have been manipulated. So I sent it to the home security company and they agreed, though they couldn’t figure out what the issue was. But clearly something was done to it.”
“How can you be sure?” Trembley asked.
“Because the video never shows anyone leaving the house and the GPS data I mentioned confirms he did. It might be worth mentioning to Mr. Struce.”
“It just might be,” Jessie agreed. “Thanks, Jamil.”
After she hung up, Trembley turned to her.
“Maybe Willem learned some of Corinne’s secrets and didn’t like what he discovered,” he volunteered. “As her husband, he could certainly have accessed the studio lot without getting many questions.”
“Maybe,” Jessie said quietly. “But if it was him, he left a lot of breadcrumbs for folks like us. You’d think a guy who made his living doing meticulous CGI work would cover his tracks better.”
“Maybe he was too angry or drunk or both to worry about that.”
“I guess we’re about to find out,” Jessie said. “Let’s head up there.”
Trembley was just pulling out into the street when she had him return to the curb.
“What now?” he asked.
“It looks like I got a call while we were talking to Jamil. I guess I missed it.”
“Who was it?”
“Tara Tanner,” Jessie said. “She left a voicemail.”
“Well, play it!” Trembley said excitedly, as Jessie did exactly that.
“This is Tara Tanner. You have my number. Please call me back.”
Jessie did so immediately. Tanner picked up on the first ring.
“Ms. Hunt?”
“Yes, this is Jessie Hunt. Thanks for reaching out.”
“Yeah, I’m only doing this because Miller said it was okay. I’m bound by a confidentiality agreement but he was willing to waive specific elements of it so that you could verify some information.”
“I appreciate that,” Jessie said, not commenting on her surprise that Boatwright was making any concessions at all.
“I’m not really happy about it,” Tanner said, clearly nervous. “I know you’re not a reporter so I can’t request this be off the record. But I would ask that you give me as much discretion as you can. If what I tell you doesn’t impact your investigation, I hope you’ll consider not including it in any official reports that might find their way into the public domain.”
“We can’t make any promises,” Jessie said, “but Detective Trembley and I will keep an open mind. What can you tell us?”
“Where should I start?”
“At the beginning,” Jessie said.
“Okay, I knew Miller slightly from a few auditions. I tried out for a few big roles in his films but never got any. I did