The Tinseltown Murderer

by Maureen Driscoll

  “What do you think they were talking about?” asked Josie

  “I don’t know exactly, but the one word I recognized wasn’t a good one.”

  “What was it?”

  “Tod. It means dead.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE

  “Why all the cloak and dagger precautions?” Grant asked the man across from him. Fred Taber was one of the analysts in the FBI’s Los Angeles lab, and while Grant had spoken to the man often enough on the phone, this was the first time they’d ever met face to face. They were currently in a booth of the Pig ‘n Whistle restaurant next to the Egyptian Theater on Hollywood Boulevard.

  Fred had just ordered steak and eggs for breakfast and was now staring at the ornate ceiling. “It’s beautiful,” he said, looking at the intricately-carved wood beams more reminiscent of a gothic church than a popular Hollywood watering hole.

  “You don’t get out much, Taber, do you?”

  He shook his head. “Spend most of my time in the lab. Truth be told, I spend most of it in a room without windows, which is where I’ve been studying that microfilm of yours.”

  “Did you find anything?”

  “Enough to not trust the phones with this.”

  Grant paused as the waitress refilled his coffee. It was common knowledge that the phones at the Bureau and its field offices were monitored, but that usually wasn’t a problem for the daily business of agents. If Taber was being this cautious he must’ve uncovered something shocking.

  Or maybe he really did just want to get out of the office.

  “So, what is it?” asked Grant as he blew on his coffee.

  “Agent Medway was surveilling a studio man, Ralph Harris.”

  “Don’t tell me he’s red.”

  “Quite the opposite. He’s in deep with the Germans. The official story is he’s trying to promote U.S. films in Europe, but that wouldn’t explain why Caroline found a German passport with his picture, but a false name.”

  “Was that on the microfilm?”

  “Yep, and that’s not all. There was also a report on Greta Schatz, saying she trained with the S.S. boys in Germany, which means she’s probably not as estranged from her uncle as she wants us to believe.”

  “Anything else?”

  “Agent Medway seemed to think there’ve been radio transmissions between Los Angeles and Berlin, but no one has been able to track down the transmission site.”

  Grant nodded, as he took a sip of coffee. “Word is a high-level German spy has been operating out of Los Angeles for quite a while. Did Agent Medway say who she thought it might be?”

  “Yeah, Finn O’Donnell, Kennedy’s man.”

  Grant paused for a moment, then laughed. “Impossible. The man’s a drunk and a drug addict.”

  “Or he’s posing as one. Look, I’m not a field agent, but from what I’ve heard, Medway was a good one. If she says that’s her suspect, then there’s a pretty good chance he’s your guy. And if he’s working for Joe Kennedy, just think of all the damage he could do.”

  “Any chance Kennedy’s a spy?”

  “There’s nothing to say he is.”

  “Oh,” said Grant, a bit disappointed. “Do you have anything else?”

  “Isn’t this enough?”

  “It’s pretty good, I’ll give you that. Thanks, Taber,” said Grant, as he stood and put a few bills on the table to cover breakfast. “I gotta run.”

  “One more thing,” said the analyst, just as Grant was about to leave. “This is pretty explosive stuff and won’t go over well at the Bureau, given the Kennedy connection and the fact we’re not even supposed to be looking into the Germans. We don’t know who killed Agent Medway or even what side they were on.”

  “Meaning it could be a German or a commie.”

  “Or even law enforcement. It’s why I wanted to stay off the phones. Be careful out there, of everyone.”

  * * *

  Detective Vernon Carson checked both of his guns one more time. His shoulder holster was secure, and the gun strapped to his leg was ready for any eventuality. He hated this assignment, both the official one of protecting O’Donnell, and the unofficial one which would get him fired if the wrong people learned of it. But he’d worry about his conscience later, a habit he’d learned in the Great War. For now, he had to carry out his tasks and make it home without being gunned down by the Nazis he’d been told by the Chief were his friends.

  The end of this party couldn’t come soon enough.

  * * *

  “This is what people wear to go hiking?” Josie asked, as she looked at the clothes which had been left outside their room by, presumably, the Zimmers. “We look like we’re going to Thanksgiving dinner.”

  David had been given full-legged, pleated wool pants, a long-sleeved, button-down shirt, a pair of hiking boots and a bowtie. Even more preposterously, Josie had a short-sleeved cotton dress which hit mid-calf, complete with full slip, and hiking boots.

  “This hike would be a lot more practical in workout wear,” said Josie.

  “The people in your day think workout wear is suitable for all occasions,” said David, as he tucked a knife into his boot.

  “I’d like to point out that my day is also your day now. And I thought you liked me in yoga pants.”

  “I love you in yoga pants. But I thought one of the things you liked about the past is the clothes.”

  “I love the evening gowns, I’m just not wild about wearing a dress to go hiking. But considering where we’re at, I suppose I have greater concerns than wardrobe. Do you have a knife for me?”

  He handed her one, then kept hold of her hand. “Be careful with that. I have a feeling the men around here are trained killers.”

  “Don’t be sexist,” Josie said with a smile. “I have a feeling Frau Zimmer and Greta aren’t so bad at it themselves.”

  “Unfortunately, I think you’re right.”

  An hour later, the house party was out in the weak sun, looking like the graduating classes of Yale and Vassar. Greta was the only woman wearing pants.

  “Why do you get to wear pants when we’re in skirts?” asked Dora.

  “Because I came prepared.”

  “Where’s Kurt?” asked Lawrence.

  “He wasn’t feeling well,” said Greta. “I believe he’s not used to all this good German food. Shall we set off?” With that, Greta began to stride across the courtyard toward a path which would take them further up into the Santa Monica Mountains.

  “Do you think anyone would notice if we hiked back to the house?” asked Lawrence.

  “A bit of exercise isn’t the worst thing in the world,” muttered Detective Carson, as he waited for an obviously hungover Finn O’Donnell to follow Greta, who was already halfway up the slope.

  “According to whom?” asked Lawrence, who adjusted his sunglasses as they began their ascent.

  David took Josie’s elbow, as they began to climb. “I’m not really wild about the order in which we’re hiking,” he said, indicating the Zimmers, who remained back at the house, but were watching them.

  Blake nodded in the direction of three nearby lookouts on the mountain, each carrying a machine gun. “Not to mention those guys. What are we doing here, again?”

  “Hoping to figure out what these guys are up to,” said Josie. “Even though I know what they’re up to.”

  “And how exactly do you know that?” Blake smiled at her. “Dora has been exceptionally vague, but I can tell something’s up. And I know it’s important enough that Dora and Lawrence would spend the weekend with Nazis. I’m dying to know why.”

  Josie wanted to confide in Blake, but on her previous trip back in time she’d seen people die who weren’t supposed to. She couldn’t risk that with him. “I just have really great intuition.”

  Blake grinned. “And my intuition tells me there’s something more to the story, but I’ll drop the subject for now, especially since there are so many other things to observe, not the least of which is our fraulein who
seems to want to turn this meandering walk through the mountains into some sort of sprint.”

  They looked up to where Greta was already well ahead of them, with no sign of slowing down.

  Twenty minutes later, the group had finally caught up to her, only because she’d stopped. “What took you so long?” she asked the panting, sweaty members of the house party. They were on top of a ridge and near the edge of a mountain, which was separated from the next one by a deep ravine. An aerial bridge just wide enough for one person connected the two.

  “We’re not crossing that, are we?” asked Josie.

  “Of course, we are. It’s not like we can jump over the ravine.”

  “But why do we have to cross it at all?”

  “There’s a lovely spot on the other side where we have a view of the ocean.”

  “I’ve seen the ocean,” said Dora.

  “Not like this.”

  “That bridge doesn’t look safe,” said Blake, stating the obvious.

  “Americans!” scoffed Greta. “You’re afraid of your own shadow. I cross this bridge twice a day on my hikes. You just have to take care as you cross it. Look.”

  Without a second thought, Greta walked out onto the rickety bridge, holding onto the rails on either side of her. The drop below her looked to be fifty feet, more than enough to kill someone. She stopped midway through then turned back to look at them. “As much as I’ve heard of the American ‘can do’ spirit, I find most of you extremely timid.”

  “We had enough ‘can do’ spirit to end the Great War,” said Blake.

  Greta’s smug look faltered only a bit. “Once you finally entered the war, you did well enough, though it helped to have the battleground an ocean away from your country. I have to wonder just what it’d be like if a war came to you.”

  A shiver went up Josie’s spine because she knew that in a few short years a war would come to American shores at Pearl Harbor. Or at least that was what had happened in the timeline Josie had grown up with. Had Greta chosen those words randomly or did she know something?

  Josie’s thoughts were interrupted by Lawrence’s quiet murmur. “I don’t suppose anyone has an axe we can use to cut that bridge.”

  “I’m sure there’s one back at the compound,” said Detective Carson.

  Josie and her friends turned to him, as Lawrence nodded approvingly. “Detective Carson, you made a joke. Or perhaps you really do want to cut the bridge, which makes me like you even more.”

  Perhaps realizing he was agreeing with the people he disliked the most, Carson grunted, then moved closer to Finn O’Donnell, who was sitting on a rock, looking like he might be sick.

  “Forgive me for interjecting politics into such a beautiful day,” said Greta. “Follow me, if you like, or I can come collect you when I return. But you’ll wish to cross this bridge one at a time. There’s no sense in tempting fate.” With that, she turned and finished crossing to the other side.

  “Well, I’m not going on that blasted bridge,” said O’Donnell. “I’ll remain here until you all return. Remington, you may want to stay here with me.”

  “Actually, I was in the mood for a hike,” said David.

  “We have matters to discuss and a delay won’t be to your advantage.”

  “I’m not going to allow my wife to go on without me.”

  “She’ll be perfectly fine. I’ll send Carson along with the rest of them so you and I can have some privacy for our chat.”

  “My duty is to protect you,” Carson said to O’Donnell.

  “And I’m good enough friends with your boss that I can make sure your next duty is as a traffic cop in Long Beach if you don’t do as I say.”

  Carson didn’t look pleased with the reprimand. “I’m only doing my job.”

  “Go away,” said O’Donnell. “I doubt your superiors would be impressed with the many times I’ve evaded you. Honestly, it’s as if you actually wanted me dead.”

  Carson’s only response was a cold stare.

  O’Donnell seemed not to notice it. “I’ll be safe with Remington.”

  David raised a brow. “Perhaps you hadn’t heard that four people died at one of my house parties. I may not be as safe as I seem.”

  O’Donnell turned a chilling smile on him. “Neither am I.”

  Josie didn’t want to leave David with the odious man, but given O’Donnell’s connections to Germany, perhaps he had information they could use. And if there was one person who could get it out of him, it was David.

  She kissed her husband, then whispered in his ear. “Be careful and don’t turn your back on him.”

  He kissed her back. “Don’t worry about that. Take care of yourself.”

  Josie smiled at her husband then walked to the rickety bridge.

  * * *

  David watched until Josie safely reached the other side of the bridge. Their friends were waiting for her, but Greta was nowhere in sight. David turned his attention to O’Donnell, who kept his face averted from the sun, despite his dark sunglasses. His clothes were wrinkled, he was unshaven and likely hadn’t showered. His skin had a grey pallor and his hand shook as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a vial of white powder. “Isn’t it a bit early in the day for that?” David asked him.

  “I’m surprised you’d ask such a dumb question, having worked on Wall Street. There is no bad time of day to do this.” He shook a bit of the powder onto his hand near his thumb, then sniffed. “You should go into business with us for no other reason than the free samples.”

  “And I think that’s all the more reason not to.”

  O’Donnell laughed. “Oh, Remington, you’re fighting a losing battle. You’re going to say yes sooner or later. Why not just do it now so we can get out of this godforsaken place and return to civilization?”

  “Why me? Why is it so important that I get on board? It can’t just be my connection to Mikey Corrigan.”

  “No, but he does help. Look, I’m not that enthusiastic about working with you, either, but I’ve got my orders.”

  “From Kennedy?”

  O’Donnell shook his head. “He doesn’t know anything about this. It’s higher than him.”

  “Higher than Joe Kennedy? Don’t let the old man hear that. I don’t think he allows for the possibility that he isn’t the top of the food chain.”

  “What if I told you these orders came from Germany? High up in Germany.”

  That was what David had suspected. “Why don’t you tell me what you know, then I can give you an answer.”

  * * *

  Not a fan of heights, Josie was relieved when she made it to the other side of the bridge. If Greta crossed it every day, the woman definitely had a death wish. “Where is everyone?” she asked Lawrence, Dora and Blake.

  Lawrence nodded off in the distance. “We believe Greta may be halfway across the Pacific by now. I’m certain she’d think the bracing swim would do a body good. Detective Carson sent himself off on a brisk march with steam coming out of his ears, and Ralph Harris said something about answering the call of nature.”

  “What do you think O’Donnell wants with David?” asked Blake.

  “To become a drug dealer,” said Josie.

  “Why would he think your husband would be interested in that?”

  “David used to have some connections to bootlegging, but those days are long gone.”

  Blake looked at the two men on the other side of the bridge. “Are you sure we should leave them alone?”

  “I’m certain David can handle Finn O’Donnell, but I am curious as to why Greta was so anxious to get us into the great outdoors. It’s time we caught up to her to find out.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  Finn O’Donnell was pacing back and forth. “You wouldn’t believe Berlin. I was there in the Weimar Republic days, where I went to the cabarets and dance halls. Those were the days – you could get any perversion you desired if you just knew where to look. Officially, Joe disapproved of the decadence, but he coul
dn’t argue with all the money to be made. It was so much fun. Now it’s all gone because of the Nazis.”

  “The Nazis are bad news, O’Donnell. The sooner you realize that, the better.”

  O’Donnell stopped pacing long enough to try to focus on David. “Hitler doesn’t want war with America. He loves America. That’s why so many of his people have come over here. They’re everywhere.”

  “You mean the German American League.”

  O’Donnell swiped at the air with his hand. “Not just there, they’re everywhere.” He stopped pacing for a moment, then walked directly toward David. “In fact…”

  There was a loud crack, but David’s first indication that a shot had been fired wasn’t until a piece of rock hit him. “Get down!” he yelled as he flattened himself on the ground. When O’Donnell obliviously remained standing, David reached up and dragged the man down next to him.

  “What the hell are you doing?”

  “Someone just shot at us.” As David looked for cover, he saw that a bullet had hit a boulder between the two of them. It was hard to tell which of them might’ve been the target, and while no one had fired a second shot, David didn’t want to stick around to give the man another chance. Three nearby boulders were the closest shelter, so he grabbed O’Donnell and pulled him along until they could get behind the rocks.

  O’Donnell balked. “I’m not lying on the ground. There could be snakes.”

  “Someone’s shooting at us. I’ll take my chances with the snakes.” After finally pulling O’Donnell behind the rocks, David peered out to see if he could tell where the shots were coming from. But there was no sign of the shooter. Then he saw something which terrified him – Josie was running across the bridge toward them. “Stay back!” he yelled, as she ignored him and took refuge with them. They were quickly joined by Lawrence, Dora and Blake, making their overcrowded hiding place quite ineffectual.

  “What do we do now?” asked Dora.

  “Why don’t we wave a hat to see if someone shoots at it?” asked Blake. “Like in the movies.”

  “That’s a moronic idea!” said Dora.

  “But they do it in the movies.”