by Marie Celine
But how? He wouldn’t have known she was coming and he hadn’t left the table. Then again, he was an expert magician. An expert at sleight of hand.
Then Kitty remembered. She had left the table for a minute. He could have written the note himself when she had excused herself to go to the ladies room.
But what was his motive? Kitty was going to have to dig deeper.
She excused herself from the two women and threaded her way across the crowded room. Mr Fandolfi, his wife ever at his side, was speaking with Greg Clifton, The Pampered Pet director, off in the far corner of the living room. She put on a smile and wormed her way into the conversation in a not so subtle fashion. The director was one person that Kitty was pretty sure hadn’t murdered Gretchen. He had been directing her show at the time.
The director was talking while Fandolfi made eye contact. ‘… Poor Gretchen was having a fit. And then I yelled for camera one, but cam—’
Kitty interjected, ‘Good afternoon, Mr Clifton, Mr and Mrs Fandolfi.’
‘Oh, hello, Kitty,’ Greg said. ‘I was just telling Ernst a funny story about a show I was working on with his ex-wife.’ He sighed. ‘I can’t tell you how much we are all going to miss dear Gretchen.’
‘You and Mr Fandolfi know one another?’
‘Oh, yeah,’ replied Greg. ‘I’ve known this old coot for as long as he and Gretchen were married. Funny, we don’t see each other for years and then suddenly I see him twice in a handful of days, right Ernst?’
Fandolfi muttered ambivalently.
‘Yeah, first Ernst shows up at the studio to catch the taping of your first show and now …’ The director paused, apparently having realized the hole he’d dug himself into. ‘Well … here.’ He coughed nervously.
So, thought Kitty, Mr Fandolfi had been at Santa Monica Film Studios for the taping of The Pampered Pet. On the very day that Gretchen Corbett, his ex-wife with whom he shared the somewhat dubious honor of parenting the charming Cindy, was murdered. ‘I didn’t realize you and Gretchen went back that far, Mr Clifton.’
Greg shook his head vigorously up and down but it was Fandolfi who replied. ‘Greg has been directing shows for Gretchen for many, many years.’ He pressed Greg’s arm. ‘She will be sadly missed.’
Greg dittoed the magician’s remarks then glanced at his empty glass. ‘I’m gonna need a refill, anybody else?’ Fandolfi and Kitty demurred, only Holly accepted his request.
She held out her own glass. ‘If you wouldn’t mind?’
The director grinned. ‘Well, then it looks like just the two of us. It isn’t often I get to take the arm of a lovely young woman and show off in front of a room full of jealous and bewildered onlookers.’
‘But I—’
‘Come along, my dear. You don’t mind, do you Ernst?’
‘Of course not,’ the magician replied. ‘It will give Kitty and I a moment to talk.’
Holly stole a quick glance at her husband as Greg looped his arm through hers and hustled her off through the crowd toward the bar.
Kitty watched them leave. ‘I didn’t realize you were at Santa Monica Film Studios the day Gretchen was murdered, Mr Fandolfi. Your name wasn’t on the register. Why didn’t you tell me, or anyone else for that matter? Why haven’t you told the police?’
Fandolfi smiled graciously and laid a long-fingered hand on Kitty’s arm – his left hand, she noticed. ‘I confess. I couldn’t resist coming to see your first taping. I managed to slip in unnoticed.’
That didn’t answer her question. ‘But why didn’t you tell me?’
‘I did not want to make you uncomfortable,’ he replied quickly. ‘Nervous. Also,’ he shrugged, ‘I am somewhat of a celebrity. I thought it best to be low key, incognito, as they say.’ He touched her chin with the tips of his fingers, ‘I did not wish to distract others from your charms.’
Hmm. Kitty thought about his answer. That could all make sense. But still, there seemed to be something fishy going on and she was going to get to the bottom of this fish tank no matter how much it smelled. ‘Did you see anything at all suspicious while you were there?’
He shook his head. ‘No. If I had, I would have notified the police as soon as I had learned of Gretchen’s murder.’
‘Were you there for the entire taping?’
‘Yes, but I left immediately afterward. You can ask Sonny Sarkisian.’ Kitty noticed the magician had said the name of the once-fired marketing and promotions man with particular distaste. ‘He saw me in the parking lot. I was going out as he was coming in. I did notice Gretchen speaking with you before the show and that was the last time that I saw her.’
He let go of Kitty’s arm. ‘It was nothing really. That’s why I didn’t say anything.’ He winked. ‘I thought you did a wonderful job by the way. How’s your arm?’
‘Thank you.’ She rubbed her right arm. It was still a bit sore from that morning’s mishap in Fandolfi’s wicked magic box. ‘It’s fine.’
She hadn’t seen Sonny’s name on the guard’s list either. Whoever had been on duty that day had done a bang-up job. She was going to have to find out whom that guard was and have a word with him. ‘When did you learn that your ex-wife had been murdered?’
‘The next morning.’ He smiled and his eyes danced, much like those of a cat toying with a mouse, Kitty thought. ‘I believe I already told you that, Kitty.’
She shot a quick glance Cindy’s way. ‘How’s your daughter holding up?’
The magician blinked. ‘Cindy has a way of managing. In fact, I’ve never known anyone so determined to get what she wants as Cindy. Except, perhaps, her mother.’
Cindy had certainly gotten her way with her parents. Now Kitty understood that crack Cindy had made the day she and Fran had visited, when she talked about her father sending her a big fat allowance and how every month she made it ‘disappear’. She’d said it with a smirk that Kitty hadn’t understood at the time, but now it all made sense. A little joke at her father the magician’s expense.
Maybe Cindy’s lifestyle was bleeding her father dry. Maybe he killed Gretchen for his share of her estate. She was beginning to wonder just how much money was at stake. She’d have to ask Jack about that. He may have some idea.
Kitty had an idea of her own. She unclasped her purse and pulled out the thick and crumpled manila envelope, carefully watching Fandolfi’s eyes as she did.
He cocked his head. Was he taking the bait?
‘What have you there, my dear?’
‘Oh.’ She waved the envelope in the air. ‘This belonged to Gretchen. Fran picked it up for her from Gretchen’s apartment the day she was murdered. Fran said she got the impression that it might be important.’ She shrugged. ‘And then Gretchen ended up dead. I was thinking that maybe I should turn it over to Cindy or Teddy. Maybe even the police …’
‘Really? How interesting.’ He fingered his moustache. ‘I love secrets,’ he said. ‘Maybe it’s the magician in me. What’s inside?’
Kitty smothered a smile. She gently opened the end of the envelope, careful not to let the magician see all its contents. ‘Oh, this and that.’ She dug into the envelope and pulled out the silver ring. ‘This ring for instance.’ She held it out between her thumb and index finger.
‘Exquisite,’ muttered Fandolfi.
‘Do you think so?’ Though Kitty watched for some sort of sign, she couldn’t tell if Fandolfi recognized the ring or not. Was it his? It looked like the sort of ornate jewelry he would wear. ‘Why don’t you try it on?’
He looked hesitant.
‘Just for fun.’
Mr Fandolfi smiled. ‘Just for fun.’ He slid the ring over his right index finger. He could not get past the knuckle. He handed the silver ring back to Kitty and she dropped it back in the envelope.
Fandolfi glanced over his shoulder then gently pushed Kitty into the corner. He gripped her arm. Kitty felt a bit frightened, even though the room was filled with people. ‘Listen, Kitty, we have to talk.’ His face was dark and tr
oubled.
‘About what?’
He shook his head. ‘Not here, not now.’ He glanced over his shoulder once again. ‘Meet me later.’
‘Later?’ Kitty hesitated. What on earth was this all about? And did she really want to meet Fandolfi later? Something about him was beginning to smell very fishy – especially since she’d learned he’d been at the studio around the time Gretchen was stabbed in the back.
‘Yes,’ he said. ‘Come by the house this evening.’
‘I have to go to Santa Monica Film Studios this evening. I’m meeting Bill Barnhard there.’
His black eyes flashed. ‘Then come to the house afterward. I’ll be waiting for you. It’s important.’
TWENTY-FIVE
‘Hey, hey, what have we here?’ Sonny Sarkisian suddenly appeared between them. Fandolfi took a step back as if he’d been exposed to the plague. Sonny greedily fingered the manila envelope Kitty was holding. ‘What’s in the envelope?’
Sonny grinned a lecherous grin. In his left hand, he clutched a half-filled glass of red wine. ‘Not dear Gretchen’s ashes, I hope? I thought we buried her corpse this morning!’ He hiccupped loudly and put his hand to his mouth. ‘Oops.’
Mr Fandolfi looked venomous. ‘What do you want, Sonny?’
Sonny looked taken aback. ‘Why, to pay my respects, of course.’ He shrugged weakly. ‘I mean, me and your ex may have had our differences but she was a heck of a producer. Made us all lots of loot.’
‘Yes, and to hear Gretchen tell it, you’d been looting her for years,’ retorted Fandolfi.
‘Hey, what’s that supposed to mean?’ Sonny asked, belligerently.
‘It means you’ve had too much to drink. And I have had too much of you!’ The magician turned on his heel. ‘Tonight, Kitty.’
Kitty stood there with her mouth hanging open.
‘Careful, something might just fly in there.’ Sonny pointed a fat finger at her gaping mouth and Kitty snapped it shut. ‘So, what is in the envelope?’
‘Fran picked it up for Gretchen the day she was murdered. I thought I would give it to her children, Teddy and Cindy.’ She gauged Sonny’s eyes; bloodshot from the booze he’d obviously been swilling. ‘Though, maybe I should turn it over to the police. What do you think?’
Sonny couldn’t hide his interest. His hand reached for the envelope. ‘I could take care of this for you.’
Kitty snatched the envelope away from him. For a moment, she thought he might attack her and try to snatch it back again. But apparently he thought better of it. He smiled. ‘I’m sure you’ll do what’s best.’
Kitty dropped the envelope safely back in her bag. ‘Yes, maybe I’ll just hold on to it a little longer.’ She asked Sonny what he’d been doing at Santa Monica Film Studios the day that Gretchen was murdered. ‘Kind of odd, isn’t it? Considering Gretchen had fired you some time before?’
Sonny said that he’d gone back to clear out his desk but Kitty wasn’t buying it. ‘I was in your office after Gretchen’s body was discovered. The police questioned me there. Your old office was empty.’
‘What? Did you peek in all my drawers?’ He wriggled a lascivious brow and his nose followed along. Kitty thought she was going to be sick. ‘Because if you’d like to peek in my drawers, I wouldn’t mind.’
‘Oh, please. You do know my boyfriend is a cop, don’t you? Should I call him over here and repeat to him what you just said?’
Sonny threw up his hands. ‘OK, OK. Only joking. Sheesh.’ He bounced from foot to foot. ‘I went back to clear out a few things I’d forgotten in the breakroom and to say hi to some of my friends. I’d been working there for eight years. I’ve got friends.’
Kitty found that hard to imagine but refrained from saying so. If Sonny was going into Santa Monica Film Studios when Fandolfi was going out, then that meant he could have murdered Gretchen.
But what was his motive? Not money, surely. He wasn’t going to inherit. She had fired him. Though, now that she was in the ground, Bill Barnhard had hired him back. That could be a motive for murder. ‘Did you talk to Gretchen?’
Sonny barked out a laugh. ‘Are you kidding? If Gretchen had seen me there, hell, she just might have stuck a knife in my back.’ He let out a deep breath. ‘No, like I said, I grabbed a few things from my desk. Said hi to some of the crew, you know, cameramen, stagehands.’
Kitty would have to ask Fran if she had seen Sonny milling about. She worked behind the scenes, maybe she saw Sonny at some point that day.
Sonny emptied his glass and looked at it forlornly. ‘The wine is gone, Gretchen is gone.’ His frown turned to a smile. ‘But life goes on!’
He half-turned. ‘Just look at Cindy over there.’ Kitty couldn’t help but look. Cindy was still haranguing poor Fran, or so it appeared. ‘Gretchen is only barely in the ground but I have yet to see her shed a tear over her mother’s spilt blood.’
Kitty had to admit, though Sonny appeared more and more to be a major louse, he made a good point.
Sonny motioned for Kitty to come closer, then whispered in her face. ‘Of course, you wouldn’t expect a murderer to show remorse for their victim, would you?’
Kitty stiffened. ‘Are you trying to say that Cindy murdered Gretchen? That’s impossible. Teddy has already admitted to the murder. Besides, Cindy has an alibi.’ Kitty’s brow wrinkled up. At least she thought Cindy had an alibi. She was getting all her suspects and their alibis mixed up now. She shook her head but nothing got any clearer. Why couldn’t her brain be more like an Etch A Sketch?
‘Sure,’ Sonny replied, in a devil-may-care fashion, ‘that’s because she got her halfwit brother, Teddy, to do it.’ Sonny winked lewdly. ‘That woman can talk a man into anything – like mother, like daughter. Of course, if you don’t like her for the lead role, there’s always your new roommate.’
‘My new roommate?’
‘Yeah, I hear you and Fran Earhart are roomies now. She had the backstage practically to herself. Ample time and opportunity to stab somebody in the back, if you ask me.’
He leaned in closer and Kitty drew back. ‘If I was you, I’d sleep with one eye open.’ With that, he turned on his unsteady heels and cut through the mourners in his path.
Kitty stared at Sonny’s broad back. Darn. Was Sonny correct? Could Cindy have talked her own brother, albeit half-brother, into murdering their mother? It was entirely possible. Cindy came across like a very cold, hard woman. From what Kitty had been told, Cindy and Gretchen barely tolerated one another. And from what she’d seen and heard, Teddy did seem like he might be easy to manipulate.
What he’d said about Fran was preposterous though. Fran was no killer. Of course, Fran did have Gretchen’s envelope with a hundred grand in it. Maybe she’d looked inside and had known that all along. Could she have murdered Gretchen with the intent of keeping the money and then got cold feet afterward?
Kitty pushed the ugly thoughts from her mind as she sidled up to Fran. ‘Sorry to leave you alone with that witch,’ Kitty said.
‘That’s okay,’ Fran exclaimed, pulling her friend closer. ‘You’ll never guess what Cinderella told me.’
Kitty said she had no clue. At this point, she hadn’t a clue about anything and was getting quite annoyed with herself.
‘Well, she asked me about David.’ Fran’s eyes twinkled.
‘Our David? David Biggins?’
‘That’s right, Mr He’s-so-sweet-on-you Biggins himself.’
‘What was it Cindy wanted to know?’ After all, what would Cindy Corbett have in common with David Biggins? Kitty was surprised that a woman of Cindy’s nature even knew the guy existed. He was cute and all, and quite charming, but he was a cameraman. To a woman like Cindy, David was nothing but a common laborer.
‘She asked me where he was. Acted all disappointed when I told her he wasn’t coming.’
Kitty’s face pinched into a frown. ‘That’s funny.’
‘You’re telling me.’ Fran pulled Kitty down on the sofa. ‘But t
hat’s not all.’
Kitty waited. What else could there be?
‘Now,’ began Fran, ‘keep in mind, I think Miss Cinderella’s smashed. I think she woke up swilling tequila with her orange juice and hasn’t let up yet. But anyway, Cindy told me that she and David had been lovers.’
Kitty gasped, then blushed when she saw people looking at her. ‘Cindy and David?’ she said softly. Was that even possible? ‘So, she dumped him and now she wants him back?’
Fran shook her head slowly. ‘Nope. He dumped her and now she wants him back.’ Fran beamed. ‘She told me that now that everything is “over”,’ Fran made quote signs with her fingers, ‘that there’s no reason she and David can’t get back together.’
Kitty was shocked. ‘And you believe her?’
‘Why not?’ answered Fran. ‘And Cindy believes it. She says they broke up once before and then got back together and so she sees no reason why that shouldn’t be the case now.’
Kitty chewed her lower lip and stole a furtive look at Cindy who seemed to be accepting condolences from an elderly couple that she didn’t recognize. Her heart beat to get out of her chest. This could be it!
Cindy had murdered her mother, or gotten her half-brother Teddy to do the terrible chore. What was her motive? To get her troublesome mother out of her way? Out of her life? And get the money she thought she deserved? So she could go live it up on the Riviera or somewhere with David Biggins? Cindy was cold, but was she that cunning? Had she ruthlessly murdered her mother or gotten her weak brother, Teddy, to do the deed? Kitty figured she was.
Was Cindy trying to implicate her father, Mr Fandolfi, as well? Was that what the magician so urgently wanted to talk to her about? Or was it because he had some information implicating his own daughter and didn’t know what to do? The poor man … she felt for him if that was indeed the case.
Kitty leapt from the sofa. ‘Come on,’ she said, ‘let’s get out of here.’
