by R. J. Kaiser
“I do hate to be blunt, Venita, but if it’s what you want, then here it is. You’ve got a man in your party who you hold out to be an esteemed film director, Amal Kory. Now, these silly Americans may not know the difference between Kory and Arjay Pantel, but I assure you my readers do—at least the more sophisticated ones, not to mention the authorities in Britain, New Zealand and Canada. Nor, I should think, shall your American millionaire friends be much amused when they learn the truth.”
Venita began to seethe. Percy Gaylord had her just where he wanted her. “You’re blackmailing me.”
“That’s much too harsh, Venita. I simply want your cooperation.”
“It’s blackmail.”
“Sod it,” he said. “Have it your way, then. Blackmail it is. Since we’re being direct, here’s my offer. You give me Ramda Bol, all the bloody details of your affair, his complicity in your schemes, and I shall keep the amusing little Hollywood game in total confidence. Arjay Pantel can go on being Amal Kory, and you can become queen of American cinema together with your adoring young man. I simply require Ramda Bol’s head on a platter.” Percy, having recovered now, got to his feet, smiling superciliously. “What could be more reasonable and fair than that?”
“I’ll tell you what I’d prefer. It’s that you’d mind your own bloody business. You have no idea what you’re asking.”
“Oh, but I do, love. And you’re damn well going to give it to me.”
Venita’s anger continued to build. “Oh, but the joy you take in destroying lives. Anything for a story. I save your worthless, godforsaken life and what do you do but try to extort information from me!”
“Now don’t get exercised, my dear. What harm will it do to disclose the truth about Ramda Bol? I mean, the buggers have already run you out of the country. I should think you’d welcome the opportunity for a little revenge.”
“I’ve made a deal with them,” Venita said through her teeth, nearly beside herself with contempt. “They’ve got my money tied up and if I ever hope to see one rupee of it, I must keep my mouth shut.”
“Gracious, you do have a problem, don’t you?” Percy said. “One word from me and you’ll never see a single Hollywood dollar, either. It appears you must choose between rupees and dollars. Keep in mind these American chaps are likely to run your sweet little ass out of the country once you’re exposed. Then what will you do? Scrub toilets at a bed-and-breakfast in London?”
“You fucking bastard!” she shrieked. “I save your life and this is my reward?”
“Accept it, Venita. What little you have left I can snatch away with the blink of an eye. You’re mine, and the sooner you recognize it the better.”
Venita was absolutely livid. She would never in a million years take orders from a worm like Percy Gaylord. She’d rather die.
“I must say,” he remarked, “it’s rather amusing to see a queen on her knees. And gratifying to know I’m responsible. There was a time, you see, when I adored you, like the rest of India. Now, here you are, eating out of my hand.”
“Enjoy it while you can, Percy, because it’s about to end.”
“Eh?”
With that, Venita gritted her teeth, moved forward and gave him a violent shove. Percy, whose heels were against the low wall, fell backward, crying out in terror as he toppled over, disappearing from view. Venita leaped forward and watched him tumbling head over heels down the slope, his arms and legs flailing like the broken limbs of a doll. Finally his body came to rest in a heap at the bottom of the ravine. He did not move.
Venita’s heart raced as she stared at the crumpled body far below. Half the bones in his body had to have been broken. And she had done it! She’d killed him. Only then did the magnitude of what had happened begin to sink in.
She took a deep breath, trying to calm her raging heart. Percy Gaylord got what he deserved, she told herself. And besides, she never should have saved his pathetic carcass in the first place. All she’d done was undo her mistake.
Seeing his camera equipment, Venita realized she had to dispose of it. Using the corner of her shawl so as not to touch anything with her bare hands, she picked up each item and dropped it over the wall, watching to make sure everything tumbled down the slope.
Venita stared down at Percy’s crumpled body, telling herself that the man was worse than a scoundrel, that she’d done what she’d done to preserve her life. Then, glancing toward the house, she saw Jugnu standing at the sliding glass door, staring at her. He’d probably witnessed her confrontation with Percy.
She started toward the house. Her servant waited for her, opening the door. She stepped inside and faced him.
“What you just saw did not happen, Jugnu. And earlier, we did not rescue Percy with the rope. I suspect what occurred was he lost his footing while trying to climb up to the property to spy on me. It’ll look that way to the police, I’m certain. I want you to go and dispose of the rope. Burn it or something.”
Her servant bowed his head, acknowledging the order. Then he left the room.
Venita turned and looked out across the garden, past the pavilion at the spot where she and the journalist had argued. She was not pleased he’d forced her to silence him, but he had given her no choice. If Percy had unmasked Arjay, Venita surely would have ended up cleaning toilets in London, as he’d suggested. As the daughter of a Brahman and a film goddess to hundreds of millions, she could not accept such a fate. It would be better to die. Or to kill.
Bel Air
Mac McGowan awoke early that morning, and though he had an appointment with his accountant at eight, he decided to take time for a swim. He tried to get in the pool for exercise at least a couple of times a week. The last several days had been tense and he needed to burn some energy. After putting on his suit, he grabbed his robe and headed outside to the huge pool he’d built when he bought the place.
As much as anything, swimming gave him time to think. Exercise before an important meeting or while contemplating a big decision helped clear his thoughts. Stella and Aubrey had been very much on his mind. Interestingly enough, Bri Lovejoy had not, though he had thought a lot about his new guardian angel, Jade Morro. He had felt good after their meeting, mostly due, he assumed, to relief at finally doing something about his problem. He hated feeling hamstrung.
But he also liked Jade. She was just a kid, compared to him. And she couldn’t have been more different—not at all like Bri, who at just under forty was closer to his age and certainly more conversant with his way of life. Yet, something about the detective felt awfully comfortable. Even her quirkiness appealed to him. Maybe between his need for help and his need for a friend, she brought just the right touch.
The trouble was, his guilty past made even a professional relationship problematic. There were limits to how honest he could be, and that was hard. As usual, it wasn’t safe to be himself. Even so, he liked having Jade involved, whether he could fully take her into his confidence or not.
Standing at the edge of the pool, Mac took a deep breath and plunged in the water. That brace of cold was what he hated most, though the actual temperature was high by most standards. It was a large pool and Mac swam a couple of laps at a vigorous pace, not slowing until he’d adjusted to the water temperature. Then he settled into a regular rhythm.
Thinking about his problems, he lost track of time. But then he felt his muscles begin to fatigue and knew it was time to quit. On his final lap, he slowed even more, bringing down his heartbeat. Then, touching the shallow end of the pool, he stood, wiped the water from his eyes and saw a pair of brown pant legs in front of him. He looked up into a face that was only slightly familiar.
“Mr. McGowan, I was out front and heard the splashing and came on back. Hope you don’t mind.”
The face was older, there was gray in the hair, the expression more world-weary than Mac recalled, but it was the same man. “Well, Sergeant Caldron,” he said. “What a surprise.”
“Is it a surprise, Mr. McGowan? Oh, and by the way, it’s lieuten
ant now.”
“Oh. My apologies. Congratulations, Lieutenant.”
“You’re really surprised to see me?”
Mac waded over to the ladder and climbed out of the pool. “No, actually it was a poor choice of words. It’s not a surprise. You have a tendency to drop by from time to time.”
“It must be ten years since we last spoke, Mr. Mc-Gowan.”
“My, how time flies.”
Caldron stood watching as Mac slipped on his robe. The sun had risen over the ridge on the far side of the canyon and the chilly morning air began to warm. Even so, Mac shivered as he did the tie of his robe.
“So, to what do we owe this visit?”
“I’ve been thinking about Aubrey St. George,” Caldron said.
“Have you?”
“Yes, Mr. McGowan. Have you?”
“Why would I think about Aubrey St. George after all these years?”
Caldron’s mouth twisted at the corner. It was the suggestion of a smile, but only a suggestion. “I understand you were roaming around his backyard Saturday night and, frankly, I found that sort of curious.”
Mac was momentarily taken aback, but managed not to appear overly surprised. “My, Big Brother is here at last.”
“The crooks aren’t the only ones taking advantage of computers,” Caldron said dryly. “The average citizen doesn’t appreciate the fact, but mostly we’re outgunned when it comes to professional criminals in both guns and technology. But that’s another story. I am curious, though, what were you doing in St. George’s backyard.”
“I was in the neighborhood, saw the For Sale sign and was curious about the old place. That used to be my wife’s home, you know, Lieutenant.”
“Oh, then it was just a walk down memory lane, is that it, Mr. McGowan?”
“People actually do that kind of thing.”
“Yeah, but you don’t seem the type…with all due respect.”
“Oh? Why do you think I was there, then?”
“That’s the thing. I don’t know. And unanswered questions bother me almost as much as unsolved crimes.”
Water dripped from his hair onto his face and Mac dabbed at it with his towel. He was cold, but he didn’t want to invite the detective into the house. Nor did he want to brush him off. “Unsolved crime, huh?”
“I never did feel real good about the theory that St. George went swimming in the ocean and never made it back to shore.”
“The coroner did.”
“Yes, true, but the coroner doesn’t often look into the eyes of people who’ve committed crimes. That’s what I’ve done for a living the last twenty-five years.”
Mac stared at him intensely. “I look guilty, it that it?”
“My intuition tells me something’s not quite right, and it’s been telling me that for darn near twenty-one years. Look at it from my standpoint. A big shot vanishes and a few months later the wife marries a guy who happened to be putting a pool in the big shot’s yard when he disappeared. Maybe that’s a coincidence and maybe it’s not.”
“Are you saying I drowned Aubrey St. George in the ocean?”
“No, I’m not saying that. Maybe it wasn’t even you. But I have a feeling you know more than you’re letting on.”
“How fortunate citizens aren’t prosecuted for crimes based on some detective’s gut instinct. A lot of innocent people could get hurt by somebody’s wild imagination.”
Caldron gave him another of his pseudo smiles. “Very true, Mr. McGowan, but you know what happens a lot? Evidence starts to show up, proving the gut instinct was right all along.”
“Well, with all due respect, Lieutenant, this is one of those cases where the gut’s wrong. If it was otherwise, somebody would be in jail and we wouldn’t be having this conversation.”
“Yeah, well, the strongest structures can develop cracks. But maybe this is a conversation for another day. I can see you’re cold. I’ll be getting out of your hair.”
“Thanks for dropping by, Lieutenant. No offense, but I hope not to see you again for another ten years.”
“Don’t count on that, Mr. McGowan. I think it will be a good deal sooner than that. My interest in the St. George case has been rekindled.”
“Seems like a terrible waste of the taxpayers’ money.”
“Why do I have the feeling that you aren’t worried about the taxpayers so much as you’re worried about your own neck, Mr. McGowan?”
“That sounds an awful lot like an accusation to me, Lieutenant.”
“Does that upset you?”
“I hope you don’t have any ideas about harassing me and my family about a case that’s closed.”
“And if I do?”
“If necessary I’ll have my attorney bring it up with your superiors.”
Caldron gave him another pseudo smile. “That almost sounds like a threat.”
“It is,” Mac said.
“You might as well know, Mr. McGowan, I’m not only tenacious, I’m not easily intimidated. And to be honest with you, I’m more convinced than ever that you’re hiding something. The cracks are starting to show. So long.” Caldron turned and headed back toward the side yard and the gate. He’d gone maybe five or six steps and stopped. “Speaking of cracks, the one in the St. George’s pool is a beaut, isn’t it?”
Lieutenant Jaime Caldron did not wait for an answer, he turned and walked away.
West Hollywood
Jade was in the shower when the phone rang, but she managed to get it before the machine came on. It was Ruthie.
“My place at four this afternoon.”
“You talked to Ricky, then.”
“Right.”
“What did he say?”
“He was surprised to hear my voice.”
“Did he say anything about me?”
“He didn’t confess that he’s been trying to run down your dates or slash your tires, if that’s what you mean.”
“No, but he must have been surprised to find out I wanted to talk to him. You didn’t make it sound like this was me wanting to see him for…personal reasons, did you?”
“Stalking’s pretty personal, Jade. But did I say you’re still madly in love with him and are dying to see him? No. I said you have some business to discuss that has nothing to do with your past relationship.”
“And he said?”
“He said, ‘Sounds serious.’ And I said, ‘It is.”’
“Well, I guess that’s safe enough.”
“Don’t worry, girl,” Ruthie said. “If he’s under any illusions, he won’t be once you tell him how the cow ate the cabbage. And could be that he’s scared enough that he won’t even show.”
“I guess that’s okay, as long as he gets the message.”
“I’d say.”
“So, did he sound…guilty?”
“No, I can’t exactly say he did. But Ricky was always pretty cocky.”
Jade had to admit that was probably true, but when they were together she’d thought of it as exuberance, a guy who was full of life. What a difference a dose of reality made.
“I really appreciate you doing this, Ruthie,” she said.
“Girl, that’s what friends are for.”
Bel Air
Mac slipped on his jacket and went downstairs for a quick cup of coffee before heading for his appointment. Jaime Caldron had succeeded in putting his stomach in a knot, which was probably exactly what the bastard intended. Mac knew now going to the Brentwood house had been a terrible mistake. It had taken twenty years, but he’d returned to the scene of the crime. And Caldron had pounced.
Mac reminded himself the detective didn’t know any more now than before—that is, unless the mystery note writer was also sending missives to Caldron. That was unlikely, though, otherwise Caldron would have been more specific in his accusations. Even so, Mac knew if he ignored the visit, it would be at his own peril.
One thing was certain. If Caldron was harassing him, he’d likely be paying Stella a visit, as well. Mac
knew he should forewarn her. His wife was pretty good in a crisis, particularly if she had time to prepare. Checking the time, he decided to call her, even though it was still early by Stella’s standards.
Bonny answered. “She still in her bed, Meester Mc-Gowan.”
“I hate to wake her,” he said, “but it’s very, very important.”
“Okay, monsieur. One minute, please.”
It was more like three or four before Stella finally came on the line.
“Mac, what’s happened?” she said groggily.
“I know it’s early and I’m sorry, but our problems are multiplying. Lieutenant Jaime Caldron of the L.A.P.D. was here bright and early this morning.”
There was a stunned silence. “What did he want?”
“Essentially to tell me he’s back on the case and suspicious about our involvement in Aubrey’s death.”
“Oh, Mac…” There was desperation in her tone. “What are we going to do?”
“There’s no cause for panic. Just caution. Don’t be surprised if Caldron comes by to see you, though. I’m calling to give you a heads-up.”
“Thank you. If I’d opened the front door and found him there…well, I don’t know what I’d have done.”
“That’s what I figured.”
“God,” she said, “after all these years.”
“I don’t suppose you’ve given any more thought to the note, like who might be behind it and how they found out?”
“I’ve thought about it, Mac, but I don’t have any answers.” She hesitated. “How about you?”
“I’ve hired an investigator to look into it.”
Another pause. “Oh… Good.”
“She—her name’s Jade Morro—expressed an interest in talking to you, but I didn’t give my approval. I wanted to check with you first.”
“What does she want to talk to me for?”
“You’re the other party in interest, Stella, supposedly the only other person besides me who’s conversant with the facts.”
“You didn’t tell her about…you didn’t tell her, did you?”
“Only that we had an affair while you were married to Aubrey and that the note concerned embarrassing information connected with that. That was as specific as I got. I told her I couldn’t say more.”
