The Tinseltown Murderer

by Maureen Driscoll

  “Which is why it’s moronic!”

  Nevertheless, Blake grabbed a nearby branch, put his hat on it, then slowly raised it up. For a moment, nothing happened.

  Then another moment passed, and nothing happened.

  “How long do you think I should do this until we know the coast is clear?” asked Blake.

  “I don’t know,” said Lawrence dryly. “What kind of movie are we in? If it’s a comedy I’d say we’re fine until we stand up.”

  “Excuse me.” Greta’s crisp tone had everyone looking up to see her casually walking toward them. “What are you doing?”

  “Someone shot at David,” said Josie. “Get down!”

  Greta remained standing, then made a show of slowly turning around, scanning the horizon. “I don’t see anything. Are you certain you didn’t imagine it?”

  “Quite,” said David.

  “We heard it,” said Josie. “That’s why we came running across. Where were you?”

  “Halfway up the other side of the mountain. Did you hear the shot, Detective Carson?” she asked the man as he ambled toward them.

  “I did,” he said, sounding a bit too calm about it.

  “Mr. Harris!” Greta called out to the studio man on the other side of the bridge. “Did you hear anything?”

  “I figured it was a car backfiring,” said Harris as he awkwardly made his way across the bridge to join them.

  “A car backfiring in the middle of the mountains?” asked Blake, who was cautiously standing up but looking around just the same.

  Harris shrugged. “Who knows what happens in the country? That’s why I try to avoid it as much as possible.”

  Finn O’Donnell rose a bit unsteadily to his feet, the effects of the drug still going strong. “What I’d like to know is where my guard dog was when all of this was happening.”

  Carson looked at him sharply. “I was on the other mountain, where you sent me.”

  “It’s a good thing nothing happened to me while someone was shooting at Remington.”

  “What makes you think someone was shooting at me?” asked David.

  “Because I have friends here. You don’t, other than the ones you brought with you.” And from the way he stared at Lawrence and Dora, it was clear what he thought of them.

  “I’m quite certain no one was trying to kill anyone,” said Greta. “Men go shooting here all day. It was likely an errant shot aimed at a coyote.”

  “It would have to be very errant,” said Dora. “And a big coyote.”

  Greta shrugged. “I shall be certain to let the Zimmers know their men should be more careful. Shall we return to the house?”

  “That is the first sensible suggestion you’ve made all day,” said Dora.

  Greta turned for the house and began walking at her usual breakneck speed.

  Josie turned to Detective Carson. “Will you please help me up?” she asked, as she gave him her hand. He begrudgingly helped her stand before turning to O’Donnell.

  “Let’s go back to the house where it’s safer.”

  “But…”

  “Now.” Without further argument, Carson all but dragged O’Donnell back to the house, followed by Harris.

  Josie hung back for a moment as she smelled her hand, then looked sharply at Carson’s departing back.

  “What is it?” asked David.

  “My hand smells like gunpowder. It’s why I asked Carson to help me up. I’m almost certain he fired that shot.”

  “Did you see him do it on the other side?” asked David.

  “No, but I didn’t see him at all.”

  Dora nodded. “He was out of sight, but so were Greta and Ralph Harris. Any of them could’ve taken the shot.”

  “But why would anyone want to kill me?” asked David. “According to O’Donnell, the Germans want my help with their drug distribution plan.”

  “Maybe not all of them feel that way,” said Josie. “And perhaps they really were aiming at O’Donnell.”

  “But why bring either of us to the compound to kill us?” asked David. “Wouldn’t it have been easier to do in town?”

  “It’s a lot more practical to do it here,” said Lawrence. “If you kill someone in town you have to dispose of the body. If you do it here, you have plenty of help and loads of places to get the job done.”

  “Should we go back to town?” asked Blake.

  David looked at his wife, then shook his head. “We came here to do a job and I say we do it. But from now on, everyone should be extremely careful. You never know what might happen next.”

  * * *

  Grant knocked on Agent Babcock’s half-closed door. “You wanted to see me?” he asked. Babcock’s office was in just as much disarray as the last time Grant had been there, and the man didn’t look any happier to see him. He was also smoking another cigar.

  Babcock waved him in. “Shut the door,” he said, not offering Grant a seat.

  Grant took one anyway.

  “I thought I was clear during our last conversation that you were supposed to leave the Germans alone, but you interviewed Straub at the League, anyway. Don’t you know how to follow orders in the San Francisco office?”

  “We know how to follow the evidence. And most of it seems to be pointing to German involvement.”

  “And what evidence is that?”

  Grant paused to gather his thoughts since he’d taken Taber’s warning to heart. He knew he’d eventually have to report his findings, but until he did, he didn’t want to share his suspicions with anyone at the Bureau. And he had plenty of suspicions. “Generally, when you’re investigating a murder, you trace the victim’s steps. It made sense to go to the League since Agent Medway had been there earlier that night.”

  “But Straub assured you the Germans had nothing to do with it, yet you persisted in wanting to see the membership rolls.”

  Grant raised a brow. “Herr Straub has certainly kept you informed. Do you often discuss Bureau investigations with people who may be suspects?”

  That made Babcock pause. “This isn’t about me. It’s about you going off on a wild goose chase instead of tracking Medway’s killer.”

  “In my experience, the only way you find the killer is by looking at all the possibilities and deciding from there.”

  Babcock blew a cloud of cigar smoke at Grant. “And now that you’ve done it, stay away from the League.”

  “The only problem is, I still haven’t figured out who killed her. Until I do that, I reserve the right to question everyone again.”

  Babcock leaned back in his chair. “These Germans are well connected.”

  “In Berlin?”

  “There, too. Hoover has always had it out for the commies. I’m personally not wild about the Germans, but since they hate commies as much as we do, they’re our allies.”

  “To tell the truth, I wouldn’t trust either of the groups,” said Grant. “But right now, I’m looking into the murder of an agent and I’ll go wherever the evidence takes me. If you have a problem with that, I suggest you write it up and make an official report. I have a job to do and I’m going to do it.”

  Babcock blew a smoke ring. “It’s your funeral.”

  “What the hell does that mean?” asked Grant, wanting nothing more than to shove that stinking cigar down the other man’s throat.

  “It’s just a figure of speech.”

  “Well, here’s another figure of speech. If anyone comes after me for doing my job, they’d better be ready to risk theirs. Got it?”

  Babcock nodded, more than a little uneasy about the turn in the conversation.

  “Good. Now let me get back to doing my job because I can’t wait to get out of this town.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  Greta washed her hands in the bathroom of her suite, then dried them carefully to get rid of all traces of gunshot residue. She needed to change her plans quickly if she had any chance of achieving her objective.

  She slipped out of her room, then walke
d down the hall toward the back stairs. Once she reached the end of the hall, she rapped sharply on the third wood panel to have it open, revealing the hidden stairs. Closing the door behind her, she descended through the dimly lit passageway until she came to the basement. She opened the door to see a security guard, one of the S.S. boys, with his weapon trained on her. It was what he was supposed to do, but the recruits from Germany were all a bit too eager to do their jobs. She tried not to show fear because they thrived on it.

  After a moment, the man lowered his weapon and stood at attention. “Entschuldigung Sie mir, bitte,” he said, asking her forgiveness. “I did not know it was you.”

  “You should never apologize for doing your duty,” she said brusquely, something the Germans respected. “I must use the telephone. Can you ensure I’m not disturbed?”

  “Of course,” he said, as he moved so she could pass by him. Greta continued down the hall, then into the fortified room, which had a secure phone and radio. Using the telephone upstairs had been out of the question since her conversation wasn’t one which others should overhear.

  She dialed the number and hoped she’d get an answer. Fortune smiled on her when Renate picked up.

  “Hello?”

  “It’s me, calling from the countryside. I only have a minute but have a few requests.”

  “Of course. How can I help you?”

  * * *

  “You really think Carson tried to kill David?” asked Lawrence. He, Dora and Blake were in Josie and David’s room, and Josie had just told them about the gunshot residue. “Why would he do that?”

  “Well, someone out there did it, and we know it wasn’t you three.”

  “I’m flattered you trust me,” said Blake.

  “We do,” said Josie. “Plus, you have an alibi.”

  Blake grinned. “I’m only slightly less flattered. But I still think it was Greta. Of course, there’s nothing to say it wasn’t Ralph Harris.”

  “Oh, please let it be Ralph Harris,” said Dora. “He’s such a good all-around villain.”

  “This isn’t a melodrama, love,” said Lawrence.

  There was a knock at the door, then Frau Zimmer entered. Josie wondered just how much the woman had overheard. She gave no indication either way, but said, “There is an unexpected visitor.” She begrudgingly moved aside to reveal Grant behind her.

  “Thank you, Frau Zimmer,” said David.

  The woman didn’t leave, as indirectly requested, but turned to Grant, instead. “There’s a storm coming in. If you don’t leave soon, the roads are likely to flood.”

  “Which is why I brought some extra clothes, since I’ll be spending the night.” He held up a leather briefcase.

  “You packed your clothes in that?” asked Lawrence. “Poor Lydia must have her hands full with your attire.”

  “She manages. I didn’t have a lot of time to pack since I wanted to beat the storm.” He turned to Frau Zimmer. “I’ll find my room later, but right now I need to talk to my friends.” With half a smile, he shut the door on their hostess, then motioned for the others to gather around him.

  “You couldn’t have heard about the shooting this quickly,” said Josie.

  “What shooting?” After they filled Grant in on what had happened on the hike, he nodded. “I’m glad you’re okay, David, but are you sure you’re the one they were trying to shoot?”

  “I can’t imagine they were trying to shoot O’Donnell,” said David. “He’s the one who’s going to make them rich.”

  “Where was Ralph Harris when all of this went down?” asked Grant.

  “He was on the other side of the mountain,” said Lawrence, “but we didn’t see him. Why?”

  “Well, I learned something and…” he paused as he gave Blake an appraising look.

  “You can trust him,” said Dora.

  Grant hesitated, but then told them what he’d learned from Taber.

  “Ralph Harris is a German spy?” asked Dora. “There aren’t enough hatpins in the world to punish him for that.”

  “We don’t know for certain that he’s a German spy,” said Grant. “But I definitely want to question him.” He also told them about Greta’s training with the S.S.

  “That doesn’t surprise me at all,” said Josie. “From the way she was sprinting over the mountain, it’s obvious she’s had some serious survival training. But if Agent Medway had this much evidence, why didn’t she go to her superiors?”

  “Perhaps she was going to,” said Grant, “but was killed before she had the chance. It’s also been made clear to me that the Bureau isn’t going to take too kindly to any investigation which isn’t about communists. She probably knew she needed solid evidence and a lot of it before she reported it.”

  “I guess this would explain why Josie saw her with Ralph Harris,” said Lawrence.

  Josie thought about it. “Except she looked pretty chummy with him. I thought it might be a romantic relationship, not one where she was gathering evidence on a Nazi spy.”

  “I hate to break it to you, Josie,” said Grant, “but agents sometimes have to cozy up to some awful people to get information. She would’ve had to get pretty close to him to find his passport in order to photograph it. And it’s been rumored for some time that the Germans have a spy in town. All of this fits.”

  “But Ralph Harris?” asked Blake. “I got stuck at a party with him once, and the guy droned on and on about a trip to Berlin, but the only thing he talked about was the women. He didn’t seem very political.”

  “All I know is he’s worth a conversation,” said Grant.

  “Can David and I join you?” asked Josie. “We were a pretty good interrogation team at the house party.”

  Grant turned to David. “If I say no, how many more times is she going to ask?”

  “Until you agree.”

  Grant sighed. “Then let’s get this over with.”

  * * *

  “That’s preposterous!” said Ralph Harris, once Grant had asked him about his German passport. The four of them were in one of the sitting rooms on the main floor.

  “We have photographic evidence,” said Grant.

  “That’s impossible because there is no German passport.”

  “Look,” said Grant. “Maybe there’s a perfectly good explanation for this, like you’re a dual national.”

  “I’m not! I’m a proud American – a union buster. What’s more American than that?”

  “Where were you when someone took a shot at David?” asked Josie.

  “On the other mountain, just like you were.”

  “But no one saw you.”

  “I know. I was answering the call of nature.”

  “That’s your story?” asked Josie. “You were relieving yourself?”

  “It happens!”

  “And no one saw you?” asked Grant.

  “I tend not to urinate out in the open. And I don’t even have a gun.”

  “There are plenty of guns around here,” said David. “You easily could’ve picked one up.”

  Harris rubbed his forehead as he thought about his predicament. “Why would I want to kill you? You’re rich! We’re always looking for investors in Hollywood. Why kill the guy with the money?”

  “Hollywood is always looking for financing,” Josie said to Grant. “That part makes sense.”

  “But not if he was aiming at Finn O’Donnell,” said David.

  “But he works for a rich guy!” said Ralph. “Why would I want to make an enemy of Joe Kennedy? We need all the investors we can get.”

  “This still doesn’t explain the German passport,” said Grant.

  “Because it doesn’t exist!” Ralph looked at them. “Please, you have to believe me.”

  “I saw you at the League,” said Josie. “You were getting a briefcase full of cash.”

  Harris looked decidedly uneasy with this turn in the conversation. “So?”

  “That would imply you’re in pretty good standing with the German go
vernment,” said Josie.

  “We’re friendly,” conceded Ralph. “But I already explained that. I’m trying to get American films into Germany.”

  “Then why are they paying you?” asked David. “If anything, it seems like it’d be the other way around.”

  There was a moment when it looked like Harris wouldn’t answer, but then he said, “This won’t look good for me.”

  “None of this looks good for you,” said Grant. “Now tell us what’s going on.”

  “The German government feels American newsreels give a biased account of what’s happening in Europe.”

  “This is a fake news thing?” asked Josie.

  “What’s fake news?” asked Grant.

  “We really don’t have time for that explanation.” She turned to Ralph. “I assure you that the Germans only object to American newsreel footage because of its accuracy.”

  “You don’t know that for sure.”

  “Trust me, I do. Why do you think they’re paying you with a briefcase full of cash if they’re not trying to pull a fast one?”

  “I knew this wouldn’t look good.”

  “Because it isn’t!” said Josie. “You’re doing their dirty work for them.”

  “Okay, even if I am – and I don’t admit to that – why would I try to kill Remington or O’Donnell? I already have what I want. The Germans will let more American films into the country, and I get the money.”

  “What about the German passport?” asked David.

  “There is no German passport!”

  “I saw it,” said Grant.

  Ralph shook his head. “You’re lying to me. That’s what you people do. There is no passport. And why would I need one? They let me into the country any time I want to go.”

  Josie looked at David and Grant. None of them had a rebuttal for that answer. But before they could regroup, they heard screams from somewhere in the house.

  They ran out the door, only to find several servants standing around the entrance to the back hall which led to the kitchen and staff quarters.

  “What’s going on?” barked out Grant.

  One of the maids looked at him, wide-eyed, “Herr Zimmer is dead.”

  Grant pushed through the crowd with David and Josie close behind. They found Herr Zimmer dead on the floor, garroted, with a distraught Frau Zimmer standing near the body. “He did it!” Frau Zimmer said. “I saw him kill my husband.”