The Case of the Rising Star

by Zavo

  “Good morning, gentlemen. My name is Quinton. I’m Mr. Sinclair’s butler. Mr. Sinclair is waiting for you in his study. Please, follow me.”

  We went down a short hallway and took the first door on our left. It was a spacious study, with an enormous desk facing the door. Matching leather chairs faced the desk. To their right was a massive stone fireplace in which a fire blazed cheerily. Bookshelves lined the wall behind the fireplace and on both sides of us.

  “Please have a seat, gentleman. Mr. Sinclair will be with you shortly.”

  After he left I glanced around the room. It seemed motion picture stars all had the same ideas when it came to decorating. As were Gordon’s, the unadorned walls of Jerome’s study were literally covered with motion picture memorabilia—much of it having to do with Jerome himself. There were mini-posters of the movies he had been in, as well as pictures of him shaking hands with other stars, many of whom I recognized. Also plastered on the walls were headlines from the local papers as well as the movie magazines. Some of the headlines detailed the feud between him and Gordon, almost as if he were proud of it. There were also many photographs of him and his wife, Stella, attending gala events.

  Within minutes, Quinton entered the office carrying a silver tray laden with delicate coffee cups, a silver percolator, and assorted pastries. Behind him was Jerome. While I had never been an ardent fan, I had seen one or two of his pictures. Mostly by accident, when I was hiding from the world at the Valentino. During the altercation yesterday I had been too angry to pay much attention to his features.

  He was strikingly handsome, with dark brown hair already slicked to perfection this morning. His eyes were light brown, set below thick, well-manicured eyebrows. His nose was slightly thick but straight, tapering to somewhat wide nostrils. A well-trimmed mustache accentuated the fullness of his upper lip; the lower was just as plump. Both were a light red color, almost as if he were wearing lipstick. When the sunlight caught him just right I could see that it was actually just their natural coloring. Adding to his daunting air was the black eye Daniel had given him yesterday at Paramount.

  As he passed Quinton and took a seat behind his desk, I caught a whiff of a pleasant, masculine cologne. Quinton filled all three coffee cups and handed the closest one to Jerome. He then gave one to Daniel and the remaining one to me. His hands were shaking noticeably as he did so.

  “Cream or sugar, gentlemen?”

  Both Daniel and I declined. It was clear Jerome was growing impatient with the pleasantries.

  “Thank you, Quinton. That will be all.”

  He picked up a silver cigarette case from the desk, lit one, and watched the smoke rise lazily in the air.

  “I’m not used to being disturbed at this hour, gentleman. Certainly not by someone who just yesterday struck me in the face!”

  “Daniel McAllister, at your service!”

  Surprisingly, this elicited a laugh from Jerome. “You pack quite a punch, Mr. McAllister. You’re lucky I didn’t contact my lawyer. So, that must make you Mr. Steele.”

  “Correct, Mr. Sinclair.”

  “Please, call me Jerome. Back to the reason for your visit; I understand it’s a matter of the utmost urgency. Please, help yourself to pastries if you wish. Can I offer either of you a cigarette?”

  “I’ll have one, Jerome.”

  I rose and stepped to his desk. He flipped open the case and plucked one out. When I had it in my mouth, I bent down and he gallantly lit it for me.

  “Thanks.”

  “Rest assured, gentlemen. I know what this little visit is all about. Gordon has told me about the two notes. For you see, the cock in that indelicate photo of Gordon Maxwell belongs to me.”

  Chapter Six

  Well, I certainly hadn’t been expecting that. I was unable to hide my surprise. When I turned to look at Daniel, his incredulity was plain to read on his face as well.

  “I can see by the looks on both of your faces that our friend Gordon did not clue you in to this fact. I can certainly understand why. We both have so much to lose. I trust our affair is safe with you gentlemen? If I’m not mistaken, we share a similar attraction for the male of our species.”

  “In that you are correct, Jerome. Daniel and I have been together for a few months now. How long have you and Gordon been seeing each other?”

  “Since our time together filming The Lawless Trail.”

  “So, this public feud between the two of you. Is this a mere sham to mask your relationship? Does your wife know?”

  “Yes to both questions. Stella is enjoying the revival of her career that our marriage has provided her. Now, Gordon didn’t provide me with many details about the notes. Please tell me what you know.”

  I launched into a detailed explanation of Gordon’s case, detailing the notes he’d received. Jerome listened unemotionally, lighting a second cigarette while I talked. I ended with the intruder at the house yesterday morning. When I was done Jerome took a sip from his coffee cup. I followed suit.

  “In light of your ongoing feud with Gordon, staged or not, I’d like to borrow an example of your handwriting. Also, I will need to know your whereabouts yesterday around this time.”

  “Certainly, Mr. Steele. I have to ask, though. You know we’re lovers, and you still think I’m blackmailing him?”

  “In my profession, Jerome, I’ve learned to overlook nothing. Especially given the fact that he got the lead in Men of the West and you didn’t.”

  “Fair enough.”

  He opened the middle desk drawer and began rummaging determinedly through it. After about a minute he produced a stack of papers.

  “These are notes I write to myself and never send. It helps me work through some of my anger issues. Please, take the entire stack if you wish.”

  After handing them to me, he snubbed out his cigarette in a large ashtray.

  “As for my whereabouts yesterday at that time, my wife, Stella, can vouch that I was here the entire morning. Wait a moment and I’ll find her.”

  He stepped out into the hall, and I heard him speaking in low tones. I assumed Quinton had been waiting just outside the door.

  “Stella should be with us momentarily, gentlemen.”

  “Thanks, Jerome.”

  He lit another cigarette while we waited for Stella to arrive. She made her entrance several minutes later. She was wearing one of the latest tennis fashions and was glistening with perspiration. Her dark brown hair was held out of her eyes with a fashionable headpiece. She wasn’t wearing any makeup, but this didn’t detract from her natural beauty. Her eyes were a dazzling blue color. After Jerome made the introductions she took a seat next to him and was all charm and sophistication. As I watched the two of them, the thought crossed my mind that perhaps Jerome’s success had more to do with Stella’s connections, and family fortune, than his talent. Jerome turned to her.

  “Stella, this is Derrick Steele and Daniel McAllister. They’re detectives from Steele Investigations.”

  “Good morning, gentlemen. I understand you’re concerned about the whereabouts of my husband yesterday morning? I can assure you, he was at the estate with me all morning till he left for the studio at around noon. I can’t imagine anyone wanting to hurt Gordon. He always seems so gentle and kind. He’s always very polite when we run into each other in public. Of course, the same can’t be said for my dear husband. I’m sure by now you’re well aware of their feud. One would think they were little boys, not grown men.”

  Stella glanced at her husband. Though there was a smile on her face, I didn’t think it was real. There was an underlying current of something here. Perhaps they were having marital problems. Perhaps Stella wasn’t as okay with the affair as Jerome had indicated. She had sounded convincing in her delivery, as a good actress would, but there was something in her tone that alerted my suspicions. Something was not quite right here. There was a palpable coldness between the two of them.

  “Thanks, Miss Langton. Do you happen to have any handwritt
en letters or notes? We’re trying to analyze the handwriting on the notes Gordon has received.”

  “Please, call me Stella. Has there been more than one note? Is Gordon in any serious danger?”

  “It’s too early to tell, Stella. We simply don’t have enough information at this time.”

  “Okay. I’ll be back in a moment.”

  As she left the room, she shot another look at Jerome—one that made my balls want to roll up in their sack. Jerome returned her icy stare before turning to face the windows. It appeared as if he wished to avoid making eye contact with us. Stella definitely had a bone to pick with her husband. What was it? Spending too much of her money, perhaps? According to the papers, Jerome wasn’t hurting in the financial department. But perhaps he spent his money unwisely. Or gambled much of it away? Perhaps he lavished it on Gordon?

  The thought made me want to reach across the desk and choke him.

  Stella returned with a sheaf of papers, which she handed to me. “This is personal correspondence. Hopefully, it will be enough for your purposes. If you have no other questions for me, I’d like to get back to my match. Don’t hesitate to call or stop by if you need anything further.”

  “I think that’s it for now, Stella. If we need anything else, we’ll be in touch.”

  “Good-bye, gentlemen. Jerome.”

  She flashed us a smile, then turned and left the room. Jerome followed her with his eyes. When she was gone there was a moment of awkward silence in the room. Jerome lit a cigarette and peered at us through the smoke.

  “Do you have any further questions for me, Derrick? I’m due on the set in an hour.”

  “Just one more, Jerome. Your wife seems to have something on her mind. Are you sure she knows about the affair and is fine with it?”

  “I’m positive, Derrick. Believe me, she’s had her own share of affairs. I think the reason she’s upset is because she thinks I suspect her of sending those notes to Gordon, for no other reason than to get under my skin.”

  “Okay. That’s it for now, Jerome. I’ll probably see you on the set this afternoon. I still need to speak to Stuart Douglas and his assistant, Harry Simms.”

  “I don’t begrudge you that chat, Derrick. Stuart Douglas is a royal pain in the ass. A brilliant director but a huge asshole, all the same. I’m sure I’ll see you there. Quinton will show you out.”

  With that, Jerome rose and left the room. I looked over at Daniel, and he shrugged.

  “I’m telling you, Derrick. These actors are all crazy, including Gordon.”

  Before I had a chance to respond, Quinton entered. “Please follow me, gentlemen.”

  Once out the door he bid us good day.

  “I think I’ll pass on the trip to the studio, Derrick. I’ve had enough of Hollywood for one day. I’m starting on a new case for Nathan today anyway. It’s a series of burglaries in one of the hotels in the downtown area. The owner suspects one of the employees, but can’t prove it. He wants to keep this out of the papers and doesn’t want to involve the police till a suspect has been identified. He owns a string of businesses in Los Angeles. Nathan is hoping this could lead to more work. I left my car at the office. Can you give me a lift there?”

  “Sure, Daniel. I need to head there anyway. I need to write up my notes and then drop these papers off with Michael to have the handwriting analyzed by Edward. After that I’ll head to the studio. I’ll see you back at the house this afternoon. Maybe we can get in some tennis before dinner.”

  “Okay.”

  We drove in silence back to the office. However, this time it was one of our comfortable silences, not one of the strained ones from the previous day. When we arrived at the office, Daniel drove off without going inside. I had just reached the door when it opened unexpectedly. I found myself facing the same stranger from the other day. Immediately my senses were again on high alert. He tipped his hat to me, said “please excuse me,” and went past me as if this were our first encounter. Something was certainly amiss here. Should I confront him or let him go? I decided I’d first ask Nathan or Betty what the man had wanted. My heart began to beat faster as I entered the office. Betty was at her desk, but was on the phone. She smiled and gave a small wave when she saw me. Nathan was just coming out of the conference room. I followed him into his office and closed the door behind us.

  “Nathan, who was that man that just left here?”

  He immediately sensed my agitated state. “Are you okay, Derrick? Please, have a seat.”

  I sat down across from his desk. He filled two glasses with water from the cooler, handed me one, then took his own seat.

  “That man is Homer Winston. He was here inquiring about the detective position. I was quite impressed with him. He’s from a firm in New York City. Do you know him, Derrick?”

  “I didn’t know his name till just now. However, he was outside the office the other day. My first thought was that he was up to no good. When I questioned him, he told me he was looking for office space to rent. Now he’s back, looking for a job. Doesn’t that seem odd?”

  Nathan’s instincts were as sharp as mine when it came to duplicity.

  “That does seem a little unusual. Perhaps he was looking to start his own business, but couldn’t find space or the financial backing, then decided it would be best to work for someone else. I have his information from New York. I’ll call them right now and verify his identity.”

  I stood up and began pacing the room as Nathan got the long-distance operator on the phone.

  “She’s putting us through now.”

  I sat down as Nathan began explaining the reason for his call to whoever had answered. I saw the look of shock appear on his face, and then deepen.

  “So, to confirm, no one currently works there by that name, nor have they ever. Okay. You have a good day too, ma’am. Thanks for your time.”

  He hung up the phone and looked over at me.

  “Well, you got the gist of the conversation. Whoever that man is, he didn’t work in New York City. At least, not for that agency. Any guesses as to what he’s up to?”

  “It’s obvious, Nathan. He’s snooping around our office. Either for his own purposes, or at the behest of someone else. Perhaps he’s gathering information for one of our competitors. You said this morning you had a call from two detectives in New York City. Now we have a third! Is New York City kicking out all its detectives?”

  “There could also be another explanation, Derrick.”

  I knew what he was going to say before the words even left his mouth.

  “This could be related to Lionel Hamilton. We still don’t know how far his crime ring extended. Maybe someone has picked up the reins and is plotting revenge against you as we speak. Perhaps even against Steele Investigations, or our family!”

  “That’s what I’ve been thinking, Nathan. I’m thankful Dad kept those extra guards at the estate. We’ll have to fill him in at dinner tonight on this new development.”

  “Till then, Derrick, we just need to be extra diligent. Also, we must be sure to be armed at all times.”

  “Okay, Nathan. Did you have a chance to talk to Daniel yesterday? Something is surely bothering him. He hasn’t been himself these past few days.”

  “I had noticed that as well, during breakfast the other day. After you left for dinner with Gordon, we shot a few games of nine-ball. I eventually worked it into the conversation. He freely admitted he hasn’t been himself. He is simply chalking it up to the workload here at the office. You can’t deny we’ve all been working long hours.”

  “True, Nathan. We need to get some more help soon. In the meantime, is there any chance Daniel could take at least a day off? If only to relax by the pool.”

  “I don’t have any issues with that. Better that than him suffering from pure exhaustion.”

  “Thanks, I’ll let him know. I’m going to head out to Paramount now. I still need to talk to Stuart Douglas and his assistant regarding the Gordon Maxwell case. May I borrow your pho
ne to call Gordon and let him know I’m on my way?”

  “Help yourself.”

  I dialed the number Gordon had given me, and Jonathan Clark answered on the third ring.

  “Thanks, Mr. Steele. I’ll let him know you’re on your way.”

  When I hung up, Nathan rose to walk me out. “How is that case going, by the way?”

  “Okay so far. There isn’t a long list of suspects, as you might imagine. I’ll keep you updated.”

  “That Gordon Maxwell sure is a handsome man, wouldn’t you say, little brother? A handsome young man.”

  “I hadn’t noticed.”

  “Sure, Derrick.”

  “What do you mean by that, Nathan?”

  “Nothing at all, little brother. Shouldn’t you be leaving?”

  He was smiling as he said this, but I knew there was more to his statement regarding Gordon. He had sensed something. Perhaps Daniel had, as well. That would explain his mood. I decided to take Nathan’s advice and leave before he asked any more questions I wasn’t prepared to answer regarding my feelings for Gordon Maxwell.

  “So long, big brother. I’ll see you tonight.”

  When I left the office I stood on the steps for a moment, looking slowly around. Were unseen eyes watching me right now? Was I being completely paranoid? Who could blame me after what I had been through these past few weeks? I got in my car and sped away, still feeling as if I was in a spotlight—or a rifle scope. When I reached the studio, the same guard was in the guard shack. He recognized me and greeted me with the same smile.

  “Good morning, Mr. Steele. Mr. Maxwell is expecting you on the set. His assistant is on his way to get you.”

  I leaned forward till I could see the man’s name tag.

  “Thanks, Marty. You have a great day.”

  “You too, Mr. Steele.”