Hollywood Homicide: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller

by M. Z. Kelly

  “I’ll make the call.”

  As I dialed her number, Ted said, “By the way, Steinberg’s already out on bail. The story’s all over the news.”

  “Why am I not surprised?”

  I got Hayden on the line a few moments later and explained my inquiry. “Rumor has it that Scarlett might have been bisexual. She’d written a partial letter before she was killed, possibly to a woman.”

  Lauren chuckled. “Wow. I never expected to hear something like that about Scarlett. If she was bi it’s a surprise to me.” She paused, maybe searching for words to explain her thoughts. “I think Scarlett had problems with relationships in general. She was shy and found it difficult to relate to people. She might have had friends, like Madison, who were women, but I don’t think it went any further than that.”

  After ending the call, I thought about trying to locate Pearce Landon’s daughter to also ask her about Scarlett, but was distracted when Lieutenant Conrad called us into his office. We’d already updated him on Landon’s shootout with Joaquin Rush, our conversation with Zig Steinberg, and Landon’s phone call to me.

  After Bernie settled at my feet, Conrad told us why we were there. “In addition to continuing to work the Endicott case, the brass also wants us to take a look at a cold case that’s had a lot of press lately.” Conrad’s steel eyes swung in my direction. “Since you already have some knowledge about the case, it’s being assigned to you and Grady. The decedent is Russell Van Drake.”

  My brows went up. Natalie and Mo had continued to secretly work the case, but I wasn’t going to tell the lieutenant that. I just nodded and said, “I’ve got some background on Van Drake’s past that I can update Ted on.”

  Conrad pushed a box that I assumed contained the murder files on the deceased actor across the desk to Ted. He said to my partner, “You can get a head start. Sexton will be there in a minute.”

  After Ted was gone I wrapped my arms around my sides as Conrad leveled his dark eyes on me. “Dembowski wants you to meet with him downtown tomorrow morning at ten.”

  Conrad was smiling, if you call a stupid smirk a smile. “What’s this about?”

  “It’s between you and the captain. Just be there.”

  When I got back to my desk I told Ted what he’d said.

  “Maybe you’re getting a promotion,” he said, smiling. “Maybe Dembowski’s come to his senses and will replace Conrad with you.”

  “Yeah and maybe monkeys will fly out of my ass.”

  He laughed and changed the subject. “So tell me about Russell Van Drake.”

  I went over what I knew, telling him that I’d lived at Ravenswood, the actor’s former estate, and how Van Drake had gone missing about three years ago. I then explained that the actor’s one-time girlfriend, Shirley Welch, who had also gone missing around the same time, had been found buried on the grounds of Ravenswood a few weeks ago.

  “Van Drake’s been the primary suspect in Welch’s murder, although there was no evidence directly linking him to the killing.” I paused and decided that I had to also level with him about what my friends were up to. “Natalie and Mo have continued to unofficially look into the case. They’ve always got their ears to the ground, so it might be worthwhile for us to have a chat with them.”

  After making a few phone calls, I arranged for Natalie and Mo to meet us at Ravenswood Manor to update us. I reasoned that it would also give Ted a chance to see where the actor lived and Welch’s body had been found. As we drove, my thoughts returned to Scarlett Endicott’s murder.

  “Any thoughts on what Zig Steinberg told us about being framed by Joaquin Rush to have Landon fix Scarlett’s murder scene.”

  Ted shrugged. “If it’s true, it means that whoever’s involved either knew Pearce Landon or knew he was a fixer and would be good for the setup.”

  “It’s too bad we didn’t get a chance to interview Landon’s daughter before she left the country.”

  “Hardy and Belmont took care of that for us.”

  “I haven’t seen them lately. What’s happening with their new case?”

  “I heard they’re close to making an arrest.”

  I sighed. “If they do, I hope Conrad doesn’t put them back on our case.” My thoughts returned to Scarlett’s murder. “Maybe Madison Landon knows something about Scarlett being bisexual.”

  “Let’s see if we can track her down when we get back to the office.”

  ***

  Natalie once described Ravenswood Manor as looking like Hogwart’s Academy. The massive stone and ivy covered residence had a steep vaulted roof, soaring stained glass windows, towers, verandas, and ornate wood trim, all set on several acres of land in the Hollywood Hills. The property had a magnificent view of the city, partially obstructed by trees, hedges, and crumbling stone terraces.

  In the years since Russell Van Drake had gone missing, the estate had fallen into disrepair, something that Ted noticed when we stopped in the driveway and got out of our car. “Looks like a bomb went off here.”

  I laughed as Bernie sniffed a flower bed. “You should have seen it before I moved in here with my friends. It was even worse.”

  We saw Natalie and Mo pulling into the circular driveway in Mo’s convertible Caddie. It took a moment for my heavyset friend to extricate her big body from the driver’s seat and make her way over to us with Natalie.

  “Baby sis and me are ready to break the case wide open with you,” Mo said, after I introduced them to Ted.

  Natalie, who was wearing a skin tight silver halter, agreed with her. Her hazel eyes then shifted, her gaze moving over the grounds of the estate, before coming back to Ted. “This is where the shape-shifting demon master’s girlfriend got whacked.”

  I saw Ted’s confusion and explained, “The demon master was Russell Van Drake’s biggest role.”

  The front door swung open and a woman wearing one of those skimpy maid costumes you sometimes see on Halloween said, “The lord and countess of the manor are expecting you.”

  The lines on Mo’s wide forehead became scrunched. “Lord and what? You talking ‘bout Claude and Nana?”

  The maid nodded, bowed, and motioned to the entrance.

  I said to my friends and Ted, “I think they’ve taken formal titles since they inherited the property.”

  “They oughta just call themselves Dracula and Morticia, “Natalie said.

  We were shown into the residence where we found the new owners of Ravenswood in the great room. Claude wore a black vest and frock coat that reminded me of something you might see in Downton Abbey. Nana, or the countess of the manor, had on a red Victorian dress and matching hat. It took every ounce of strength I possessed not to burst out laughing. Natalie and Mo, on the other hand, clearly lacked my self-control.

  “You two look like you’re ready to go trick or treat’n,” Natalie said, almost falling over with laughter.

  Mo let out a low growl of mirth. “Or maybe the Addam’s Family is having their prom tonight.”

  Nana put her hands on her skinny hips as Ted put a hand up to his mouth, suppressing his own laughter. “You’re just jealous. The lord and I are merely dressing like persons of our means should.” She looked over at Dracula, I mean Claude, for support.

  “It is what decent people should expect from aristocracy,” Claude confirmed, in what I decided was either an attempt at a British accent or the lord had gotten an early start on happy hour.

  Natalie wasn’t impressed. “You’re both a couple of nutters who oughta be locked up in the bell tower for your own protection.”

  “Or maybe just taken out back and put in a couple of coffins,” Mo added.

  What they’d said apparently didn’t set well with the countess. “I won’t have you coming onto the grounds…”

  Maurice, the house Raven, took that moment to sweep out of nowhere and give us his standard welcome greeting, saying, “Fuck you, go away.”

  Nana turned to her lord. “That bird’s got to go.”

  Na
talie and Mo resumed their laughter. “You just got the bird, Nana.”

  The insults flew back and forth for several minutes before I attempted to restore order. I introduced Ted and told them, “We’re here on official police business. The disappearance and possible murder of Russell Van Drake is under investigation.”

  “As you are well aware,” Claude said in his best Winston Churchill baritone, “the grounds of our property have been thoroughly investigated by your department. The remains of said decedent are elsewhere.”

  Natalie turned to Mo. “What did he say?”

  “The dead guy ain’t here.” Mo looked at the lord. “We just need to do a walk around with the cops, then you two can go back to playing dress up.”

  After another protest, Nana finally relented. We began by taking Ted into the basement where Russell Van Drake had a secret room. The actor had entertained several women there, something that his wife had either consented to or had been clueless about. We ended up on the grounds of the estate where Van Drake’s last known girlfriend, Shirley Welch, had been buried.

  “The coroner determined that Welch was murdered about three years ago, around the time both she and Van Drake went missing,” I said.

  “And the cause of death?” Ted asked.

  “Somebody slashed her with a knife,” Natalie said. “Betcha she screamed bloody murder.”

  I confirmed what she’d said, adding, “We had cadaver dogs go over the entire property looking for Van Drake’s body but they came up empty.”

  “You want my professional opinion,” Mo said, “Russell and Shirley got the goods on somebody and paid for it with their lives.”

  “Any idea who that might be?” Ted asked.

  Mo shook her big head, her green wig shifting slightly. “Not sure, but if I was a bettin’ woman I’d say it was…”

  “A fuck buddy,” Natalie said, interrupting. “Everybody knows the peckerhead couldn’t keep it in his pants. We also found out Russell went both ways.”

  What she’d said surprised me. “He was bisexual?”

  “We find out who the fuck buddy was,” Mo said, nodding her head in agreement with her snoop sister, “And I’ll bet we find Van Drake’s body.”

  Maybe it was all the talk of death and dead bodies, but the lord and countess took that moment to appear from the residence. It crossed my mind that they might be late for the prom.

  “We’re having guests, so you’ll have to leave,” Nana said.

  “You guys putting on a monster’s ball tonight?” Mo asked, laughing.

  “We are having a lavish dinner party followed by some entertainment,” the lord announced in his newly acquired accent.

  Natalie joined in Mo’s laughter. “Betcha they’re goin’ do the Monster Mash.”

  We all left the property when Nana threatened to get her shotgun. I’d seen my former landlord with a gun and it was scary as hell.

  As we drove away from Ravenswood, Mo’s theory that Van Drake and Welch had been murdered because they’d learned something about their killer crossed my mind. Power and sex were two paths that often led to violence. It occurred to me that path might have also been one that was travelled by Scarlett Endicott.

  SIXTY

  The desk and the bed in Pearce Landon’s small motel room were covered with diagrams and notes. He’d spent the day after the shootout with Joaquin Rush outlining every scrap of information he knew about what happened with Scarlett Endicott’s murder and his set up for the killing.

  A timeline outlined events in the order they’d happened. He’d even backtracked, going over his every move during the past couple of years. He was convinced that the setup had been carefully orchestrated and he’d unknowingly been a major player in the events from day one.

  If there was any truth to what Zig Steinberg had told Detective Sexton, it meant two things had occurred early on in the sequence of events that he hadn’t previously considered.

  First, someone had arranged the sexual assault on Scarlett and Madison, knowing they could use those circumstances to assure his involvement in fixing the crime scene and to set him up for the murder. Second, it also meant that the involved party had the means and knowledge to hire a professional killer to frame him and later try and kill him when his arrest for Scarlett’s murder hadn’t gone as planned.

  Landon had also spent several hours working on the Zig Steinberg piece of the puzzle. He knew that the famed director had been unhappy with Scarlett and had actively sought to have her replaced on his film.

  Steinberg had also been friends with Richard Hawkins. The two men were, in many respects, sexual predators. The psychiatrist had used his position of trust to prey on dozens of defenseless women over the years. Landon thought it was still possible that Steinberg and Hawkins were behind the sexual attack on Scarlett and his daughter. While Madison hadn’t remembered the events of that night, it was possible that Scarlett had. Maybe that was another factor in the decision to kill her and set him up.

  The final piece of the puzzle was Scarlett’s letter. He was pretty sure that MSL, was a reference to My Secret Lover. Her letter had mentioned The Pantry, so he knew that Scarlett had gone there with whomever that letter had been meant for. He’d contemplated making some more calls to the exclusive Arizona retreat but decided better of it. It might even be that his previous phone call had resulted in the woman he’d talked to being fired.

  Landon gathered up every scrap of paper he’d written and pushed it all into his duffle bag, along with the few clothes he’d bought to get by over the last few days. He then checked out of the motel room.

  A few minutes later, he was on the freeway, headed east. His plan was to go to The Pantry and use whatever means necessary to find out about Scarlett’s stay at the upscale resort. He was convinced that whoever Scarlett had spent the weekend with held the key to why she’d been murdered.

  Time was of the essence now. Landon knew that the person who’d hired Joaquin Rush to kill him wouldn’t stop until he was dead. He had to find a way to beat the killer at his own game.

  SIXTY ONE

  After leaving Ravenswood Manor, Bernie and I went home to the Barkley Bungalows. While my one bedroom unit was small and dated, at least I didn’t have to listen to Mom and Buzz making love or endure her unhappiness with me. Despite her refusal to see Dr. Chan again, I’d decided to keep the appointment I’d set up, thinking maybe the doctor could offer some advice on salvaging our relationship.

  The next morning, after Bernie watered the dried-up landscaping around the apartment building and I’d avoided a couple of the “walking dead” who looked like they had their zombie roles nailed, I took my coffee to the patio where Mo, Natalie, and Carly Hogg joined me. Carly’s big body collapsed into a chair, causing her purple dress to billow out around her like a parachute.

  After making reference to some problems in her love life, Carly said to us, “Whoever said love lasts forever was drunk.”

  “Rough night?” Mo asked.

  My large friend was wearing a yellow dress and matching turban. Her outfit reminded me of how someone might dress in the tropics. I had a thought that maybe the ensemble had something to do with her and Natalie’s acting roles.

  “Not unless you consider Internet porn and a battery powered bunny rabbit rough,” Carly said, her cheeks puffing up and then deflating. “I think Me and Jake are history.” Her eyes brightened and found us. “You girls wouldn’t know anyone who’s available, would you?”

  “I’m beat’n the bushes meself since Sonny and me are just friends now,” Natalie said. Her hazel eyes found me. “Hey, Kate’s on the breakup with her cowboy. Maybe The Lone Ranger’s available.”

  I sipped my coffee and shook my head. I held the steaming cup in my hands and said, “I’d call our relationship in limbo, and, after what happened with his ex, I doubt that he’s ready to start a new relationship.”

  Mo took a moment to explain to Carly about Buck’s ex being mentally ill and stalking me.

&nbs
p; “Maybe what the world needs is a new kind of sex,” Carly said.

  We all heard the excitement in Natalie’s voice. “I gotta hear this.”

  “Instead of Viagra, scientists should invent a pill that makes a man smart, funny, caring, and love foreplay. They could call it a Cuddle.”

  Mo reflected on what she’d said for a moment and grimaced. “The problem is finding a guy who would take it. You’d have to hog tie him and force the Cuddle down his throat.”

  “That might be part of the fun,” Natalie offered.

  I stood up. “While you all work out the details of new sex, I’ve got to go to work. See you later.”

  As I drove to Homicide Special Section in downtown Los Angeles, I thought about what Carly had said about inventing a new kind of sex. While it was all intended to be funny, it had brought Buck to mind. While no one was perfect, Buck had come as close as anyone I’d known to making me feel that we were perfect together. The truth was, I missed him and was having thoughts about calling him, despite everything that had gone on with his ex.

  As I pulled into the parking garage at the Police Administration Building, I pushed the thoughts away, deciding that I needed to concentrate on my meeting with Melvin Dembowksi. I had no idea why the captain wanted to meet, but I knew it wasn’t just to chat and share war stories. I hadn’t yet contacted the Police Protective League about Lieutenant Conrad’s statement that I was under investigation, and thought maybe that was why Dembowski wanted to see me.

  My radar was on high alert when Bernie and I walked into the captain’s office and I saw that he was with Brian Jankowitz, one of the department’s recently promoted deputy chiefs. I’d worked with Jankowitz at Hollywood Station previously and knew that he was one of the good guys in a department that sometimes lost touch with its line staff. Despite that, I was wary about why a deputy chief was sitting in on our meeting.

  After pleasantries and Bernie settled at my feet, Captain Dembowski raised my anxiety level even further. “Let me begin by saying that this meeting is confidential, completely off the record, Detective. I’d like you to agree that what we discuss today does not leave this room.”