Hollywood Assassin: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller

by M. Z. Kelly

  “Shit!” He pushes the muzzle of the gun into the mouth of the actor’s son. “Where’s your father?”

  The fat little fuck stirs, begins choking on the gun barrel. Bon Bon’s eyes pop open, like two brown pools of sewage. Kane pushes the gun deeper into the little asshole’s mouth. Donovan’s son gags, then vomits onto the bed when the gun is finally pulled back.

  When his stomach is empty, Bon Bon rolls over and looks at Kane. “What do you want?”

  Kane pushes the muzzle of the gun toward the young man again. He spits on him before smashing the butt of the pistol across his face.

  “Son of the wolf. I want your father,” Kane screams.

  Blood gushes from Bon Bon’s nose. He pulls a sheet up, trying to stop the bleeding. “Please don’t hurt me. I’ll do anything.”

  The cell phone is pushed into Bon Bon’s hand. “Call Daddy, now. Any whimpering, crying, or begging, and you die.”

  Bon Bon controls himself long enough to get his father on the line. He hands the phone to Kane.

  “I have your son,” Kane says. “We need to talk.”

  The actor’s voice is tight. “What’s going on? I thought we had things under control.”

  “I’ll explain everything when you get here.”

  “I’ve got a schedule I can’t break. I can be there tonight.”

  Kane considers this. He’s hidden the gate guard’s body and locked up the grounds. No one can get in or out. He’s in control. All the guards except Ponytail are dead. The estate is his. He can spend the day entertaining himself before Donovan arrives.

  “See you tonight,” Kane says. “Let’s make this interesting. Come to The Cavern when you get here.”

  He ends the call and looks over at Bon Bon. The fat little shit is crying his eyes out again, his face full of blood.

  “Let’s go find your friends,” Kane says. “It’s party time.”

  Fifty

  “This place gives me the collywobbles,” Natalie said to Pearl and me.

  It was after sunset as we parked at Hollywood Forever Cemetery. The graveyard, located in the middle of the city next to Paramount Studios, was the final resting place for some of Hollywood’s biggest stars.

  Natalie continued, “Clyde’s brother died last year. They had one of them open-lid ceremonies. Almost chundered me Cheerios when I saw the old chuffer. He looked like a happy sack that had been in the sun too long—all saggy and dried up.”

  “Now that conjures up a visual,” Pearl said.

  After my hearing, I’d spent the rest of the day with the investigators assigned to the Drake shooting. Pearl and I had both been interviewed and I provided the recording of the incident. We were confident the shooting would be considered justified.

  We got out of Pearl’s car and walked through the crowd. I hadn’t slept in two days. The only thing keeping me going was coffee and the call I got from Brian Jankowitz, telling me I was to report to work in two days. He also mentioned the DA was reviewing the case against Jack Bautista in view of my recording and was likely to drop all charges.

  I pointed to the black Mercedes coming up the driveway. “Here comes Cesar.”

  We watched as Wolf Donovan got out of the car and made his way through the crowd, signing autographs.

  Natalie went off as the crowd swarmed the actor, “Fat piece of clunge. Bet he hasn’t seen his lazy lob since the civil war. He looks like a fat log in a shit swamp. I’d like to grab him by the…”

  “Natalie!” I turned and shook my head. Even Bernie looked like he was ready to cover his ears with his paws.

  Some people might find it strange that a cemetery would show old movies on the wall of a mausoleum. But this was Hollywood and the memorial park was the final resting place for some of the world’s biggest stars.

  This was also the place where Rudolph Valentino was buried. It was Donovan’s most famous role. He was here to introduce the recently released director’s cut of the movie and give a talk about the film.

  “So are we here just to watch the bilge rat’s movie?” Natalie asked.

  Pearl shook his head. “I did a little research and found out that Donovan was on the cemetery’s board of directors back in the early eighties. I also learned that, Pacific Trading Partners, the original corporation Harper and Carmichael formed, not only imported works of art, but also coffins made in Mexico. Donovan and his friends were likely using the caskets to bring drugs into the country.”

  “When Pearl told me that,” I said, “I realized that the cemetery would be the perfect placed to bury a murder victim. The problem is, Hollywood Forever has thousands of graves. Carmichael’s final resting place could be almost anywhere.”

  “Maybe they stuck him in a coffin with someone famous, like Bugsy Siegel,” Natalie suggested.

  The former gangster was interred in the cemetery, but I doubted that he had a companion.

  We listened as the famous actor began his talk about the movie. He ended the monologue, referencing the Lady in Black who leaves a rose at Rudolph Valentino’s tomb every year.

  When the movie began, Donovan took a seat next to the film projector. We decided to hang back in the crowd. I didn’t want Natalie going off again on the famous actor.

  As the film rolled, we watched the movie star in his younger and considerably slimmer days, portraying the life of one of Hollywood’s most eccentric stars. The film told the story of Valentino’s early life in Italy and Paris before he came to the United States and starred in dozens of films. The actor had died suddenly at age thirty-one, causing mass hysteria among his female admirers.

  The movie was nearing the end when Donovan stood and began heading to his car. A standing ovation rose up. Natalie gave the actor a Bronx cheer before I could cover her mouth.

  I didn’t see Donovan drive away. I didn’t see the crowd begin to gather their belongings and head out of the cemetery as the film was ending. I only vaguely heard Natalie say something about Donovan being a backdoor pile of bab. I was busy watching as the final scenes of the movie flickered over the wall of the mausoleum.

  That’s when I noticed it. At first, I dismissed it as my imagination working overtime. Maybe it was just fatigue?

  I shook my head, saying out loud, “No, I’m sure I saw his name.”

  I motioned for Pearl and Natalie to join me. We moved away from the crowd.

  “This might sound crazy, but I think I know where John Carmichael is buried,” I said.

  “With Bugsy?” Natalie asked.

  I shook my head. “There was a scene in the film, just before the mystery woman left the rose at Valentino’s crypt. The camera panned over the graveyard, past the rows of burial vaults, and across the mausoleum wall.”

  As the film ended, I motioned for them to follow me to the burial vault. I pointed to where I thought I’d seen the name. The wall was blank, nothing but ancient, dried cement.

  “There was a scene in the movie,” I said. “It was on screen for only a second or two. It was a vault that showed a date of birth and death. I can’t remember the birth date, but I remember the date of death was September 16, 1984. The name on the crypt was John D. Carmichael.”

  Natalie scratched her head. “I’m a little bumfuzzled on this. Why would the big ball of bloat put Carmichael’s grave marker in his movie?”

  “Ego,” I said. “I remember Jack telling me that Cassie Reynolds said something to him about it all being right there for everyone to see. I think this is what she meant.”

  “It would be the ultimate head trip,” Pearl agreed.

  “Remember when we were at his estate?” I said. “Donovan said something about even if he’d put what he’d done right in front of everyone’s eyes, he could never be caught. He also said that things from his past would remain buried forever. I think Wolf Donovan committed murder, put the clues to that killing in his most famous movie for the world to see, and got away with it.”

  “Until now,” Pearl said, as my phone rang. It was Charlie.


  “I just heard a call from dispatch on that new phone app of mine,” Charlie said. “There was a call from somewhere inside Wolf Donovan’s estate. Somebody on a cell phone said there’s a guy with lots of guns holding people hostage. From the description, it sounds like Nathan Kane.”

  We ran for the car, nearly tripping over the grave markers as we went.

  Chapter Fifty-One

  All the lights are killed, except those leading along the path next to the river running deep inside The Cavern. Nathan Kane follows behind his guests, offering encouragement in the form of a promise: instant death if they don’t do exactly as he says. There isn’t a single protest. His guests have already seen enough to comply with any demand.

  It’s been a busy day. Kane has spent most of his time going down to the wine cellar. It’s fully stocked with a variety of expensive wines and champagne. He selects carefully, moving past the alcohol to the women being held hostage.

  The sex is amazing. There’s nothing like a loaded gun to add a little spice in the bedroom. He’s used the weapon in a variety of ways.

  After a few experiments, he finds his favorite activity is using the amyl nitrate he found in the actor’s bedroom along with the lethal sex toy. The drug gives the women a warm mellow feeling before sheer terror sets in at the realization they’re going to die. Kane decides he’ll have his own fully stocked cellar once everything is settled and he leaves the country.

  When they reach the series of pools at the back of the cavern, his guests are ordered to stop. They clutch their sides, not making eye contact, probably expecting the worst. They have no idea.

  He despises the actor’s bloated son most. Bon Bon has spent the day trying to barter for his life. Kane would have killed the fat toad hours ago if he wasn’t Donovan’s son.

  Even Ponytail has lost his bluster. The muscle-bound bodyguard doesn’t make eye contact and seldom speaks. He’s been broken down like a little boy.

  “I want every stitch of clothing off now,” Kane announces.

  There is no protest. He watches as his guests strip down. In a moment, Bon Bon stands naked with the others, his belly distended like he’s swallowed a giant balloon.

  Kane pokes the naked bastard in the stomach with his gun. “Ever think of going on The Biggest Loser?” There’s no response except sniveling.

  When they’re all naked, he motions to the river of water. “In the water, now.”

  They do as he says, some of them shivering and crying as they slip down into the ribbon of dark water.

  Kane moves to the control booth at the side of the pool. He hits the strobe lights. The cavern flashes and pulses with color. Then he selects the music. He needs a nice beat with lots of bass. He settles on Ozzy Osbourne’s, “Shot in the Dark.” He hits a button and the cavern begins to throb with music.

  As the strobes flash and the music blares, Kane strategically places his weapons, leaving one of the guns in the back of the cavern where the moving water dumps into a final chamber. He then removes his clothing and slips into the water. He waits, gun in hand, like a giant coiled snake ready to strike.

  In a few minutes, he sees the light. It’s shining down the walkway from the entrance to the cave. The light begins to grow brighter. As it moves toward him, he sees it dancing around the cavern, illuminating the pool filled with naked bodies. Then the light stops, splashes back, and washes over the giant actor.

  The Assassin grins in the darkness. The flickering light catches Kane’s long, sharp teeth for an instant. He is the bear and the Wolf is in his den. The bear brings the gun up and roars.

  Chapter Fifty-Two

  Charlie called me as we blasted through the gates onto Donovan’s estate.

  “I’m on my way, Kate, but I just heard dispatch say the first responding unit was in an accident, broadsided in an intersection. You’re on your own until the other units get there.”

  Bernie’s whine of concern turned into a harsh growl as I ended the call. We raced up the driveway toward the residence.

  In the distance, we could see a black Mercedes stopped ahead. The driver opened the rear door and Wolf Donovan began ambling toward the cavern. He turned back for an instant, probably seeing our headlights. His blue-green eyes shone in the light like an animal’s. I saw there was a gun in his hand as he slipped away, disappearing inside the cave.

  “The fat piece of sludge is heading for the shit bog,” Natalie said.

  Pearl slammed on his brakes a few feet from Donovan’s car. We brought our guns out as we ran toward Donovan’s chauffeur. The man’s eyes were fixed on Bernie who was now barking and straining on his leash—my big dog in attack mode.

  “He’s in the cave,” the driver said, jumping on the hood of the car. “I don’t want any trouble.”

  From the corner of my eye I saw Natalie reach into her purse and bring out something shiny. She waved a pistol at the driver.

  “Run for your life and don’t leave a slime trail behind you,” she shouted.

  The man sprinted down the driveway. Natalie had gotten at least part of her message across.

  I thought about telling Natalie to put the gun away and wait in the car, but it was too late. We heard the music and saw the flash of lights coming up from somewhere inside the cave.

  I knew it wasn’t just strobe lights we were seeing. The flashes of light were accompanied by a muffled popping sound. Someone was shooting.

  We moved into the cave, following a trail that snaked along the river. Music rose up, a loud, pulsing beat. Strobes and flashes of gunfire illuminated the interior ahead of us.

  I felt like I was on some crazy nightclub dance floor. Pearl was in front of me, his body moving in the flashing lights, creating a series of still images that burned into my retina.

  I caught sight of Natalie behind me for an instant when the path turned and I was struggling to control Bernie. She was holding what I guessed was Clyde’s pistol in both hands, swinging it from side to side, probably imitating something she’d seen in a movie. I prayed that she wouldn’t shoot me in the back. I heard her shouting, but only made out something that sounded like “motherfucker” and “blubber.”

  A few yards from a large pool of water, we stopped. The strobe and gunfire flashes illuminated something out of a nightmare.

  Nathan Kane was in the back of the pool, his body halfway out of the water as he casually fired at the naked bodies writhing in front of him. Between the beats of blaring music and gunfire, I heard screaming. I made out two of the victims, Donovan’s son and Zen.

  We crouched low behind some boulders and saw Donovan moving forward, down a separate passageway. He entered a glass booth.

  The music suddenly stopped and the cave went dark. The shooting also stopped. The Cavern was deathly silent—except for the screaming and Bernie’s barking.

  “I can’t see anything,” Pearl whispered.

  I was about to answer him when something fell on top of me.

  “Sorry ‘bout that,” Natalie said. “Lost me footin’. Think I stepped in some kinda bat shit.”

  A dim set of overhead lights flickered on. Natalie was trying to pull herself off me. I realized that she had stepped on a dead body. My hands were slippery, covered in something sticky. I felt Bernie’s leash begin slipping away from me.

  “Bernie, blieb!”

  The German command was lost in the screaming. My partner sprang into the water, heading straight for Kane.

  I dove in after him and began swimming frantically. My hand hit something in the water, probably a dead body, and my gun slipped away from me.

  I grabbed for Bernie’s leash, turned and saw Donovan standing at the side of the pool. He was staring at me, grinning as he pointed his gun at me. He was about to fire when the actor’s giant head exploded. It flew apart and snapped back, blood spurting, the head almost served from his body.

  I turned and saw Nathan Kane swinging his gun around, moving it from Donovan to me. We locked eyes. Then the shooting began from somew
here behind me. I realized it must be Pearl—and Natalie! I held Bernie’s leash and pulled him down as I dove toward the bottom of the pool.

  Above us, I heard bullets slicing through the dark water. When I couldn’t hold my breath a moment longer, I surfaced, also pulling Bernie up.

  I saw Nathan Kane moving back, his huge naked body slipping over the waterfall as the river washed down into another pool, deeper into the cave.

  I swam forward, reaching out and touching something floating through the water. It was huge and bloody. Wolf Donovan’s gigantic body rolled over like an enormous log, water gurgling from what was left of his face. His body then floated away from me.

  I turned and saw Bernie. He was paddling, desperately trying to stay afloat. He was no longer barking and moving toward Kane. He seemed to be in some kind of distress. That’s when I saw the red stain flowing into the water.

  Nathan Kane had shot my dog!

  Chapter Fifty-Three

  I grabbed for Bernie, snagging his collar just before he went under. I swam toward the edge of the pool, pulling him along as I went.

  From somewhere above us near the entrance to the cave, I heard voices shouting commands and making radio calls. I knew it was the responding officers, but I also knew they were too late to help.

  I pushed Bernie up and out of the pool at the same time I saw fingers with perfectly manicured nails coming down into the water.

  “I’ve got him,” Natalie said. She pulled Bernie up, removed her blouse, and used it as a tourniquet to stem the bleeding. She pushed her pistol into my hand, motioned toward the flowing river of water, and said, “I’ll take care of Bernie. No more faffing about. Stick this down the asswipe’s throat and blow his gob off.”

  I took the gun, swam back into the pool, and found Pearl. We made eye contact and then pushed off, moving farther back into The Cavern.

  The overhead lights faded as we were washed into the flowing water. The Cavern became a black pit. We swirled down before we were spit out into the final churning pool of dark water.