Hollywood Murder

by M. Z. Kelly

  “But how does Deidre Cole fit into the picture?” Selfie asked.

  “Misdirection.”

  She shook her head. “You’re also losing me, Sherlock.”

  I played out the scenario for them that had been spinning through my head. “Let’s just suppose for a moment that Allison Marsh also resented her wealthy, controlling father. We know that she and Vince were heavily in debt, which means that Henry wasn’t sharing his fortune with her.

  “We also know from the photograph we saw in the Montreals’ home that Allison and her sister Karen apparently reconnected during their college years, something Georgette Montreal clearly disapproved of. It could be that they stayed in touch and eventually came up with a plan to finally get a piece of their father’s fortune that had been denied them. After probably considering lots of options, they finally settled on a kidnapping scheme using two people: Allison’s husband Vince and her best friend, Deidre Cole.”

  “I’m getting lost and more lost,” Molly said.

  I smiled. “That’s because of the misdirection that was playing out. Suppose that Allison went to her best friend and said she had a plan that would make them both very rich. The plan was simple in the beginning: she and her children would be kidnapped and her father would be forced to pay a ransom. But there were a couple of problems. They needed both someone to play the heavy in the scheme, a pawn who would set the game in motion and wasn’t opposed to using violence, and a fall guy, a player who would eventually go down for the crime.”

  “Allison’s husband Vince was the perfect fall guy,” Leo said, playing along.

  I nodded. “Using Vince in the scheme worked out perfectly. He was a lying cheater, and Allison wanted nothing more than to get back at him.”

  “And the heavy was Dyer,” Selfie said, picking up on the scenario.

  “Allison was probably subtly pulling the strings behind the scenes for that piece of the game. Best friends share secrets. She likely knew that Deidre and Frank Dyer had been involved at one time. She also knew from her sister’s past involvement with Dyer that he wasn’t opposed to using violence and manipulation. When her friend eventually came up with the plan to use Dyer in the scheme, Allison probably feigned surprise, but the final piece of the game she’d set in motion was in play. After that, it was just a matter of Deidre using her considerable assets to get Dyer on board, and using him to convince Vince Marsh to go along with the plan.”

  “And, all this time,” Leo said. “Allison and her sister were running their own game that Vincent, Deidre, and Frank Dyer were all clueless about.”

  “You got it. They were all pawns in a much bigger game. Once the kidnapping had been accomplished, Vince was no longer needed, and either Deidre or Karen murdered him.”

  Molly played along, “And once Dyer finally got the ransom money…

  “He and Deidre were both expendable. Allison, maybe with the help of Karen, killed them both and took the money. They reasoned that eventually we would realize that Vince had hired Dyer to do the kidnappings to extort money from his father-in-law, and that Deidre would be implicated because of her past relationship with Dyer.”

  The room was quiet for a moment. We all heard Bernie snoring in the corner as we mentally sifted through the pieces I’d put in place.

  “If this was all misdirection,” Selfie finally said, “Allison not only put herself in jeopardy, but also her children.”

  I agreed, adding, “Allison and her sister probably hated their father so much that they were willing to do whatever it took to get back at him. The children were also pawns in their game.”

  “That’s about as low as you can get,” Molly said. “So, where does this leave us?”

  “With two very rich girls and three dead bodies—make that four if you count the maid.”

  “And where do we go from here?” Molly asked.

  “Hancock Park.”

  SIXTY-NINE

  Before leaving to interview Allison Marsh, I called Agent Dukes and filled him in on the fingerprint match of the dead bodies found in the mountains. I took a few minutes and went over what I suspected. “It was all orchestrated by Allison and her sister. They got the money and set up Allison’s husband and Deidre Cole for the kidnapping, using Frank Dyer to do the dirty work.”

  Dukes wanted to know why the FBI hadn’t been contacted by the local sheriff’s department that found the bodies. I told him probably because neither Dyer nor Cole had been flagged in the system as being suspects in their case. He said he wasn’t convinced my theory was accurate and spent the next half hour trying to poke holes in it.

  When I’d finally had enough, I said, “Detective Kingsley and I are headed over to talk to Allison Marsh now. You can have one of your agents meet us there, if you’d like.”

  “This is an FBI investigation. I won’t have you…”

  He went on as I said, “Hello…I’m sorry…I think the call has been dropped.” I turned off my phone and said to Leo. “Let’s go”

  ***

  Leo and I spent the next two hours with Allison Marsh in the den of her elegant Hancock Park home while her children played in the back yard. We spent the first hour, asking her to go over the details of her kidnapping again. She reluctantly agreed, taking us through everything that had happened again, before I began to focus in on what we’d learned.

  “Do you know a man named Frank Dyer?” I asked.

  She brushed her blonde hair from her eyes and I got a blank expression. “I don’t think so.” She took a moment, her gaze drifting off. “No, his name doesn’t sound familiar.”

  “He was a private detective. Mr. Dyer was found dead in the mountains two nights ago, along with your friend Deidre Cole.”

  Allison went into hysterics after she learned that her supposed best friend was dead. It was a good act, but after five minutes it started to wear on me. She was still sobbing about her loss when I said, “You’re not that upset about what happened, are you?”

  She brushed away her tears and huffed out a protest. “I’m devastated.”

  “Really? That’s interesting, since Deidre Cole was working with Frank Dyer to set up your kidnapping.”

  The room was quiet for a moment, my words acting like the aftermath of a gunshot that had blasted through the air. Allison was a pretty girl, but her features twisted up into an ugly grimace. “I won’t sit here and listen to lies.”

  “Detective Sexton is telling the truth,” Leo said. “You helped set everything in place.”

  She gave nothing up, except for a slight tremor when she wiped away her tears. “This is nonsense.”

  “Let me tell you how the nonsense played out,” I said. “You and Deidre came up with the scheme to have you and your children kidnapped for the ransom money, but you needed a heavy, someone who would use the force and violence necessary to put your plan in place. Your friend came up with the thought of using her former boyfriend, Frank Dyer, in the scheme. What Deidre didn’t know is that your sister and Dyer had also been involved at one time.”

  “After that, it was just a matter of convincing Dyer he could become a very rich man as a result of the kidnapping,” Leo said. “He convinced your husband to go along with the scheme as a way to finally get a payday out of your father. After Vince agreed, Dyer did the kidnapping and killed the maid to show your father that he meant business. As things progressed, you decided your cheating husband was expendable and you had him murdered.”

  “You can fill in the rest,” I said. “Did Deidre murder Vince or was it your sister?”

  Allison released a long breath and buried her face in her hands. She remained that way while the room fell silent, except for the seconds on a clock behind her ticking by. When her eyes finally came up and fixed on me, I saw that her expression had changed. She was no longer the beautiful young woman, playing the role of a victim.

  Allison’s words came out as a sigh. “It was Deidre.” She took a breath and chuckled. “Even though she thought she was in love with
me, she had to sleep with my bastard of a husband to eventually convince him to go along with the kidnapping. She wanted him dead.” She shook her head and laughed again. “It all would have worked, except for…” She shook her head. “It doesn’t matter now.”

  “Except for what?”

  “My sister thought the money would help her get over living a life of poverty and having a father who would have nothing to do with her. She realized she’d been wrong.”

  I glanced at Leo, back at her. “Where is Karen?”

  Allison looked at me. I had a thought that her smile seemed to come from that place where childhood dreams are shattered. “She went to murder our father.”

  SEVENTY

  “We need units to respond to Henry Montreal’s residence, Code three,” I said over the radio as Leo raced toward his Trousdale estate. “We have reason to believe his daughter, Karen Dodd, is armed and dangerous.”

  When I’d finished the radio call, Leo said, “From what Allison said, her sister is determined to take revenge on their father. And I have a feeling we’re running out of time.”

  I knew the distance from Hancock Park to Beverly Hills was about five miles. As usual, the traffic was heavy, and, even though Leo used his red lights, we got bogged down at one of the intersections. Bernie was in the back seat, on alert and sensing something big was happening.

  My partner went on as we waited for traffic to move through the intersection. “The way I figure it, Karen Dodd has had a lifetime of pent-up anger brewing toward her father. This might not end well.”

  We finally cleared the intersection. “Then let’s get there before it’s over.”

  After nearly getting T-boned in another intersection, Leo and I made it to the Montreals’ residence in less than ten minutes. The gate to the estate was closed, so Leo rammed into it, knocking it down. I was getting Bernie from the backseat when a black and white pulled up behind us.

  “Let’s move out,” I said to the uniforms after briefly explaining what we knew and making sure I had a firm grip on Bernie’s leash. Leo and I began moving toward the front door with the other officers. We had our guns drawn as I stepped onto the front porch and said, “We need to be prepared…”

  My words were cut off, and we all hit the ground, as one of the officers yelled, “Shots fired!”

  SEVENTY-ONE

  “I want this wrapped up by the weekend,” Henry Montreal said. The wealthy financier was on the phone in his study with his chief financial officer. “And, I want the penalties we talked about imposed for any non-performance.”

  “That’s going to be a problem. The Seaport group knows that construction projects often don’t meet the deadlines. They’re not going to agree…”

  “Listen to me.” Henry was aware of movement outside his door, but the task at hand was more important. “The penalties stay in the contract or we don’t have a deal. This is put-up or shut-up, and I’m not going to be the one who puts-up.” He slammed the phone down, at the same time glancing over at the woman who was now standing in his doorway.

  “You.” Henry’s eyes fixed on the gun in his daughter’s hand.

  “Me,” Karen Dodd said, smiling. “How have you been, Daddy?”

  “What do you want?”

  “Just some answers.”

  “I don’t have any…” He released a breath and shook his head. “I get it. You want money.”

  Karen laughed, “That is so you, Daddy.”

  “Don’t call me that.”

  The smile on Karen’s lips slipped away. She walked over to her father until she was just a couple of feet away from him. “Why?”

  “Why what?”

  Karen brought the gun up, aiming it at the man she despised. “All these years have gone by and I haven’t seen you since I was a little girl. Why?”

  Despite his best effort, Henry realized his voice was wavering. “You…you don’t understand. It was Georgette. She couldn’t accept…what I did.”

  The rage in Karen exploded. She brought the gun down, smashing it against her father’s head. “You fucking coward.”

  “It’s true. Georgette was the one who…”

  “This had nothing to do with your wife. It had everything to do with you being a selfish, uncaring, controlling bastard who would have nothing to do with the child he brought into this world.”

  Blood gushed from Henry’s head. “No, please…you don’t understand.”

  Karen brought the gun up again, this time pointing it between her father’s eyes. “Just so you know, Daddy. It was me. I was the one behind Allison’s kidnapping. I also have your ten million dollars.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Henry Montreal saw his daughter’s finger tense on the trigger of her gun. “I’m saying that, I win.”

  SEVENTY-TWO

  “Police,” I yelled as Bernie and I made our entrance through the front door. “Drop the weapon, Karen. You need to come out now.”

  There was no response.

  “Only one shot,” Leo said. “That means we still have an active shooter.”

  Bernie and I made our way down a hallway. I stopped, hearing the high-pitched distraught voice of a woman. “You can’t come into my house.”

  “Police,” I yelled again.

  There were two voices now, one louder than the other. I had Bernie’s leash in one hand, my weapon in the other, as we continued down the hallway. Seconds later there was another gunshot coming from what I realized must be an office. I called out again. Silence.

  We stopped a few feet from the doorway. I held Bernie back, not wanting to let him go into a room under unknown circumstances. Leo moved ahead of us with the uniforms. At the same time a third shot rang out.

  They hesitated, calling out again without any response. They moved ahead until they were at the doorway. I watched as they relaxed and holstered their weapons.

  I moved up to the doorway with Bernie. The scene in front of me removed all the air from my lungs for a moment. I felt light-headed and dizzy as I took in the scene.

  Henry Montreal was slumped over his desk. He’d been shot through the head. His wife was on the floor, bleeding from what I was sure was a fatal wound to her chest. Georgette Montreal was still holding a gun in her hand that she’d probably used to confront her stepdaughter.

  My gaze went over and held on the daughter that Henry Montreal had never known. Karen Dodd was slumped against a wall with a gunshot wound to her head. It was clear to me that she’d shot her father and his wife, before turning her gun on herself. But there was something else about the scene that took me a long time to process.

  I holstered my weapon and bent down to the beautiful young woman who lay dead in front of me. I knew it was a futile, maybe even a silly act, but I found a tissue and blotted her eyes.

  Karen Dodd’s final act in this life had been to express the sorrow that she’d felt for the father she’d never known. Despite what she’d done, there was something heartbreaking about her lifeless eyes that stared into the void. They were filled with tears.

  SEVENTY-THREE

  I spent the rest of the day, and most of the next, processing the murder-suicide scene at the Montreal residence and writing reports. After learning of her sister’s death, Allison Marsh had waived her rights and admitted her crimes. She and her sister had spent months planning the crime in order to, in her words, “Get back at the monster who had been our father.”

  After her confession, Allison had been booked into jail on multiple counts of murder and conspiracy. It was likely she would be facing the death penalty for her crimes, which in California meant that she’d die in jail while her case went through years of appeals.

  While her crimes had, in effect, left Allison’s children orphans, an aunt had stepped forward and taken custody of both Jenna and Bobby. She seemed like a compassionate, loving woman, who I could only pray would offer them the life they deserved. The one thing I did know for sure was that they would never lack for financial resources be
cause they were destined to eventually inherit the Montreal fortune.

  When Bernie and I got home, I spent some time alone thinking about the crimes and how a shattered family life had set everything in motion. My thoughts eventually drifted to my own family and my relationship with my sisters.

  Amanda and I weren’t close and seldom even talked. Despite that estrangement, I promised myself to try and do better. While we had little in common, I decided that I had nothing to lose by reaching out to her and trying to find some common ground. I even hoped that my mother’s upcoming family reunion would help with that process.

  My thoughts then went to my other sister. It had been weeks since Lindsay had been taken in by The Swarm. I remembered the far-away look in her eyes as she’d boarded a helicopter and had willingly flown away with the group of killers.

  I found myself picking up my phone and calling Joe Dawson, the FBI agent who had worked with me on the killing spree that led to Lindsay being taken. He must have seen the call was from me because when he answered, his greeting was familiar.

  “Hey, Buttercup. How are things in La-La Land?”

  “It’s just another week of murder and mayhem here in paradise. How are you, Joe?”

  “’Bout right, for a man of my age and condition. Still getting younger and smarter every day.”

  I chuckled and got to the reason for my call. I held my breath and said, “Lindsay. Have you heard anything?”

  The lightness in his voice was gone when he answered. “Talked to Greer a couple of days ago. We took down a guy with some ties to the group, but, so far, he isn’t saying much. I got the impression your sister and the others are still underground, maybe planning something. I wish I had something more to tell you.”

  “It’s okay. I…I just wanted to be sure to stay in touch if…when something breaks.”

  “I’ve got you on speed dial.” There was a pause before he went on. “You sure you’re okay, Kate?”