Hollywood Homicide: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller

by M. Z. Kelly

  Conrad’s smile melted. “You really believe that Pearce Landon is innocent, don’t you?”

  I nodded. “I think there’s a lot more to the story than we know.”

  He looked at me like I was a clueless girl. “Regardless of what you think, I want the bastard in custody as soon as possible. I expect your full cooperation in that regard or your relationship with Landon will be reported up the chain.”

  “What relationship?”

  “You’re receiving secret phone calls from a murder suspect, Detective. You have a prior for a violation of the policy prohibiting that. Maybe you haven’t learned your lesson, but that’s not the way we work a homicide investigation.”

  FORTY NINE

  I was running late for the Christmas tree fundraiser after dropping Bernie off with my brother. Robin had given me a trim and blow out, and my usually unruly hair was behaving itself for once. I had no idea what kind of idiot I’d make of myself hanging from a Christmas tree, but since it was for a good cause I didn’t care.

  I was still livid over what Lieutenant Conrad had said before I left the station. His comment about me having a prior for contacting a suspect had some truth to it. I’d had some phone conversations with Jack Bautista, a fellow officer who later became my boyfriend, when he’d been falsely accused of murdering a prostitute. Jack had eventually been acquitted of the charges, thanks to my persistence, but those circumstances had been entirely different.

  Pearce Landon had contacted me of his own volition to prove his innocence and had agreed to provide evidence to that end. I could only hope that Conrad wouldn’t try to make a federal case over something that I had no control over.

  “You’re late,” Mo said after she and Natalie came over to me. There was a huge crowd on Hollywood Boulevard in front of the Chinese Theater where the giant fake Christmas tree had been erected.

  “I had trouble finding parking.” I scanned the sidewalk. “It looks like half the press in L.A. is here.”

  “If we’re lucky, we should make the front page of all the papers,” Natalie said.

  It suddenly dawned on me that both she and Mo were wearing robes. “Are there special costumes that we’re supposed to wear for the tree?”

  The both laughed and exchanged glances. “You might say that,” Mo said. “Let’s go see Mishka, she’s the director of tonight’s performance. She’ll explain everything.”

  As we made our way through the crowd my anxiety grew. It looked like a couple of TV stations and their reporters were doing live remote shots of the festivities. We stopped near the base of the Christmas tree which looked to be at least a hundred feet tall with a small stairway behind it.

  “This is Mishka,” Mo said, introducing me to an attractive woman who was probably around my age. She had a clipboard and was checking off names. Then I noticed there were close to a dozen other women milling about, all of them wearing robes like my friends.

  “You need to take off your clothes so we can get you ready to pose,” Mishka said, in an accent that had a European flair.

  “What?” I looked from her to Mo and Natalie.

  “We haven’t exactly splained all the details ‘bout tonight’s performance to Kate,” Natalie said to Mishka. “She thinks she just gonna be a big bulb hanging from the tree or something.”

  Mishka put her hands on her hips as she regarded me. “You are going to be a Christmas ornament.” She checked her chart. “You’re scheduled to be the angel on top of the tree, so you will wear wings, but nothing else.”

  “What?” My mouth fell open and I looked at my friends.

  “Not to worry, Kate,” Mo said. “You’ll have lots of company.” She motioned to the other women. “We’re all gonna be nude.”

  “I’m gonna be a candy cane,” Natalie said, pulling her robe open. I saw that she was wearing red and white stripes and nothing else. “Took me team most of the day to get the stripes just right and cover up two or three strategic places.”

  Despite the attempt at strategic stripes Natalie’s paint job left little to the imagination.

  I looked at Mishka. “I had no idea…”

  “You just need to get with the program, Kate,” Mo said, also pulling her robe open. “In case you can’t tell, I’m a snowman or woman.” She eyed her costume that had cut outs in strategic places revealing that Frosty was a snowwoman with enormous breasts. Mo laughed. “I’m also probably the blackest snowwoman in town.”

  “You must be nude,” Mishka said to me, apparently realizing that I was in a panic. She held up a large pair of gossamer wings. “Maybe these will help.”

  I took the wings. They reminded me of something one of those supermodels might wear, but they would do nothing for my modesty.

  I tried to give the wings back to her. “I’m sorry. I can’t do this.”

  “There is no other option,” Mishka said, refusing to take the wings. “The performance is starting.”

  I turned and watched in horror as several women began removing their robes and climbing the stairway to take their places on the tree. There was a bear, a reindeer, and even a Christmas owl—all of them nude or at least semi-nude.

  I turned back to Mishka, the desperation in my voice taking over as I pled my case. “An angel is an iconic figure to put on the top of the tree. Some people might find it offensive if I was nude.” Including me.

  “Maybe Kate’s got a point,” Frosty said. “I saw one of them nude mesh body suits in a box over by the trailer. Maybe she could put that on.”

  Natalie was no help. “I think a nude angel is just the ticket. People wanna see what their angels are made of.”

  I went over to the box Mo had pointed out and found the body suit. While it was skin tight and the color of flesh, I decided it was far better than showing my assets to the world.

  “Where can I change?” I asked Mishka.

  She pointed out a trailer where I spent the next ten minutes struggling to put on a bodysuit that was like a tourniquet. When I finally accomplished the feat I decided that it looked like someone had stripped me naked and covered me in beige paint. As I was leaving the trailer, further inspiration struck. I found what looked like a Mardi Gras mask in one of the boxes and also put it on.

  I felt like a complete fool but steeled my nerves, pushed open the door, and made my way back over to my friends. As Mishka helped me with the wings, Natalie said, “You look like a drunken angel who just fell off a balcony on Bourbon Street.”

  “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”

  Ten minutes later, I’d made my way to the top of the tree where I posed with the other women. I could only pray that no one would recognize me as the angel on the top a Christmas tree that I was sure would be in all the papers and on television. That’s when I heard an all-too-familiar voice from somewhere in the crowd below me.

  “That angel up there used to be my roommate,” Nana said, snapping my photo with her cell phone. She turned to the reporters and said, “Her name is Kate Sexton. She’s a cop.”

  FIFTY

  I came down from the tree at the same time Nana came over with Haley Tristan, a reporter for the Harold-Press and the host of a TV show called Hollywood Confidential. The reporter’s eyes swept over my outfit, making me feel like a naked freshman in a high school locker room.

  “That was quite the performance,” Tristan said, her lips parting and displaying a row of shiny white piano keys.

  Nana’s oversized dentures also gleamed in the TV lights. “Kate’s got a thing for nudity.”

  “What? I do not. This was just for charity.”

  “You’re forgetting about the time you posed naked for that Save the Bananas poster,” Nana said. She turned to Tristan. “This is actually Kate’s first totally nude public demonstration. She wore a dominatrix outfit for the billboard.”

  “Tell me all about that,” Tristan said, pulling out a pad of paper.

  Nana’s reference to me dressing as a dominatrix and being on a billboard was the result of m
e losing a bet with Natalie’s boyfriend after I failed to complete the Hotel Ooh La La elevator challenge, but there was no way I was going to let her tell the reporter about it.

  I grabbed Nana’s skinny arm and pulled her away from Tristan. “I need you to help me with my costume.”

  I spent the next ten minutes in the trailer dressing and listening to Nana complain that she was being held hostage. When I’d finally pulled myself back together I said, “Where’s the Lord of Ravenswood tonight?”

  Nana scowled. “He’s home in bed. He pulled something.”

  I had no doubt what that something was. Nana had groin pull priors with her dead boyfriend, Elvis.

  I said my goodbyes to my friends and Nana, at the same time making sure that I avoided Haley Tristan. I was headed for my car when my phone rang.

  “Nice performance, Detective.”

  I immediately recognized Pearce Landon’s voice. “Thanks, I think.” I scanned the street. “Where are you?”

  “Close enough to see everything but at the same time keep my freedom.”

  I didn’t want to think about what he meant by everything. “I didn’t expect to hear from you again, so soon. Are you ready to give yourself up?”

  He chuckled. “Not until I prove my innocence.” He paused, maybe gathering his thoughts. “There’s something I didn’t tell you when we spoke earlier.”

  “I’m listening.”

  “Before meeting Hawkins last night, I spent some time watching Zig Steinberg’s house. He came home a little after nine. He was with Joaquin Rush.”

  I knew Rush only by reputation. “He’s a fixer.”

  “More of a hit man. My guess is that Steinberg’s been working with him all along. I think he may have been involved in Scarlett’s murder and the death of Richard Hawkins. I also think he set me up for both murders.”

  “Why Rush?”

  “He does the big fixes and no one’s been fixed more than me.”

  “A fixer who fixed the fixer.”

  “Something like that.”

  “If what you’re saying is true, Steinberg and Rush would have expected that you’d be in jail facing double homicide charges by now. As long as you’re on the streets, you’re not safe.”

  “I’m not going to sit on the sidelines while Steinberg gets away with a double murder.”

  I tried another angle. “What about your family? Do you think they’re safe?”

  “I just made arrangements for my daughter to leave the country. That’s why I decided to tell you about Rush. Maybe you can go back to Steinberg tomorrow and tell him what you know.”

  “I’ll see what I can arrange.”

  As I was about to end the call, he said, “Thanks again for tonight’s performance.”

  I sighed. “I would say it was my pleasure but I’d be lying.”

  FIFTY ONE

  Ted and I got Conrad’s permission to go to ROI studios the first thing in the morning to try and locate Zig Steinberg. The lieutenant and his two favorite detectives were busy going over the photographs and Scarlett’s partial letter that Pearce Landon had arranged to anonymously be delivered to Hollywood Station in the middle of the night.

  I’d told Conrad about Landon’s second phone call last night, and about him seeing Steinberg with Joaquin Rush before Richard Hawkins had been murdered. The lieutenant discounted what Landon had told me, saying that he was just trying to cover his tracks. He’d again made accusations that I was involved in an inappropriate relationship with our suspect and had somehow facilitated the conversation.

  I was still angry about the accusations as Ted drove Bernie and me to the studios. “Conrad is making it sound like I’ve been calling Landon and enticing him to give up information.”

  Ted glanced at me. “He’s just trying to cover his ass. From what I’ve heard Captain Dembowski isn’t happy with the way he’s handling Section One.”

  “Really?”

  He nodded. “I think the brass realizes they shouldn’t have promoted an over eager newbie to the position.” He smiled. “Maybe that’s the silver lining for us not having solved our case yet.”

  I decided to try and calm myself and put Conrad out of my thoughts. “What was your take on Scarlett’s letter that Landon sent us?”

  “Not sure, but it sounds like she got together with someone at the Pantry Restaurant and missed seeing her.”

  I realized that the rumors Mo had heard about Scarlett being bisexual were likely true.

  Ted continued, “It’s also apparent that she didn’t feel safe. Maybe she knew someone was coming after her.”

  “I wonder if Steinberg and Hawkins were behind the sexual attack on her and Landon’s daughter. They murder Scarlett to keep their secret and set up Landon to take the fall by blackmailing him with the photographs.”

  “If that was the case, why wouldn’t they have also killed Landon’s daughter?”

  “Maybe they knew that she had no memory of what happened.”

  Ted shook his head. “It’s a loose end that doesn’t quite add up for me, if that’s the way things went down.”

  “Then let’s go ask Steinberg what the truth is.”

  ***

  As it turned out we weren’t able to talk to Steinberg because his assistant advised us that the director was out of town again.

  “I don’t expect him back for a couple of days,” Alysha Roberts said. “He’s working with the production staff going over locations for Death by Water.” She must have seen our confusion. “It’s his newest film. He’ll begin shooting the picture just as soon as he gets a replacement for Scarlett Endicott and finishes up Final Wish.”

  Roberts’ beauty and near-perfect body, again made me wonder if she and the director might be involved. I decided to see what she would give up. “Just out of curiosity, how long have you and Mr. Steinberg worked together?”

  “About three years. I took over for Mr. Ralston—he was Zig’s previous assistant. He died of a heart attack.”

  I nodded. “I’ll bet you put in long hours. It’s probably not easy on your family.”

  “Luckily, it’s just me and my girlfriend. We’ve gotten used to the schedule.”

  So much for my suspicions about her and Steinberg. What she’d said triggered something else for me. “Can I ask you something about Scarlett Endicott?”

  “Of course, but I didn’t know her very well.”

  I glanced at Ted, back at her. “We’ve heard rumors that Scarlett might have been bisexual. Were you aware of that?”

  She brushed a hand through her short blonde hair. “Since you mentioned it, yes. I think she might have had a girlfriend.”

  “Any idea who she was seeing?”

  “I’m not really sure but Scarlett mentioned her once. She said something about her also being an actress.”

  Ted and I spent another ten minutes with Roberts. We didn’t get anything new, but our conversation had served to reinforce that Scarlett was bisexual. We also now knew that her girlfriend was an actress. Unfortunately, that occupation was common in Hollywood.

  As we drove back to the station, I said to Ted, “I wonder if Scarlett was involved with another actress who worked on Final Wish.”

  He brushed a hand over his cheek. “Hard to say.”

  “Do you think her mother knew?”

  He glanced at me. “That Scarlett was bi?” I nodded and he went on, “Maybe Mom was in denial and knows something.”

  “Or her aunt,” I suggested as we pulled into the station’s parking lot. “Let’s try to get ahold of them later.

  Ted and I were back at the station when Jessica Barlow came slithering over to me. “I’ll bet you’re embarrassed.”

  “About what?”

  “Don’t tell me you haven’t seen your picture in the papers?”

  I pushed down my unease. I’d forgotten all about Haley Tristan being at last night’s event and wondered if she’d written something about me. I moved past her. “I don’t have time for this.”
>
  “Everyone’s talking about it,” Jessica said from behind. “I’ll bet you feel like a slut.”

  I turned back to her. “Actually, no, but I would imagine that you’re an expert on the subject.”

  Ted and I found Lieutenant Conrad in his office with Belmont and Hardy. It took two seconds for me to know that my boss had also seen the papers.

  “You want to explain this?” the lieutenant demanded.

  I saw that he had a copy of the Herald-Press on his desk. He tossed it to me. There was a picture of the gigantic Christmas tree on the front page with me clearly visible as the angel topping the tree. Thankfully, the photo didn’t reveal that I was half-nude.

  “It was just a fundraiser,” I said.

  Christine Belmont laughed. “More like a side-show.”

  “You’re an embarrassment to the department,” Hardy added.

  I was about to defend myself when Conrad said, “The article gives your name and identifies you as working for the department. The brass isn’t going to be happy.”

  I glanced at the piece, skimming a couple of lines. It was obvious from what I read that Nana had given Tristan a few details about my job, but Section One hadn’t been specifically mentioned.

  “I’m sorry. It was a charity event for at-risk kids. There was no intention of embarrassing anyone.”

  Conrad shook his head. “Let’s move on. The matter is with administration.”

  As Belmont and Hardy took a moment, giving Conrad their take on the photographs Landon had sent us and Scarlett’s letter, I felt my spirits deflating further. Last night’s events would do nothing to bolster my standing with the LAPD administrators. It was probably a matter of time before I was reassigned, or, worse, demoted.

  “What did Steinberg have to say?” Conrad asked Ted without looking at me. Maybe he’d decided that I had zero credibility.

  My partner took a moment, telling him that the director was out of town again. He then filled him in on what Alysha Roberts had said about Scarlett being bisexual, confirming what we’d heard before. “Roberts says she thinks Scarlett was involved with another actress. Kate and I think she was writing her unfinished letter to a woman.”