The Monarch Graveyard

by James R Nelson

  “Grab another package of hotdogs and some buns then.”

  “I’ll get both. I don’t think we’re leaving anytime soon.”

  Paulie walked to the phone booth and asked the operator to make a long distance collect call to New York City.

  “Al, it’s me, Paulie.”

  “Good to hear from you. You got her?”

  “No, not yet. But I’ve been over there checking things out. It’s not gonna be that easy. She’s behind a big wall and gate. The place she’s staying at is huge. I’m gonna have to get lucky and try and grab her when she goes outside.”

  “Lucky? Come on, Paulie. You need to do this now. I’m under a lot of pressure. The guy in Vegas is getting reamed out by some boss in L.A. They want her back now. Don’t give me that shit about how you need to get lucky. To hell with lucky.”

  “Yeah, I know. At least I spotted her. I know where she’s staying. Look, I gotta go.” He slammed down the phone. That damn Al. Damn idiots in Vegas. Those jerks in L.A. If this was so easy, why didn’t they do it themselves?” He returned to the car.

  Kitty came out of the store holding a bag of groceries. “What’s wrong with you? Looks like you’re about to kill somebody.”

  “Nothing. It’s just that Al’s on my case to get this done.”

  She handed him the groceries and said, “I’ve been thinking. You know I don’t want any part of this. You don’t need these guys. We can go anywhere we want. I got relatives in Minneapolis. They’ll put us up. At least for a short time. Forget about this Barbra Jenkins woman. Let’s just you and me take off. We can leave right now. Go back to the cabin, pick up our stuff, and be on the road in an hour.”

  “It sounds good, it really does. But like I told you, when the outfit tells you to do something, you can’t say no, or I changed my mind, or forget about it. It just don’t work like that. And then there’s Al. I got him into this mess. If I take off like you want me to, he’s a goner. I…I really can’t do that to the man.”

  Kitty didn’t respond. She stared ahead at the road. As they were turning in to the cabin, she said, “I hate to tell you this, but they started asking questions about me at the store.”

  Paulie turned. “What kind of questions?”

  “The guy wanted to know where I was staying, and why did I look so familiar to him. Those kind of questions.”

  “What did you tell him?”

  “I said we were staying in a cabin a few miles down the road. He said he knew every cabin around here, then he asked me if it was the old Ferguson place. I told him I didn’t know, that my husband had made all the arrangements.”

  “Maybe he was just making a pass at you.”

  Kitty smiled. “Ah, I don’t think so. The guy’s about seventy and his wife was standing right next to him with a big scowl on her face.”

  “Great. Al’s pressuring me, and now you too.”

  She pulled into the dirt road and backed behind the cabin. “All I’m saying is that something’s going to have to happen soon.”

  Paulie threw open the car door. No kidding.

  Eighteen

  Phillip sat at his desk and waited for Judith Collins. There was a soft knock on the door. “Come in.”

  She entered his office and took a seat across from him. “Sorry. I got turned around. You sure do have a big place, Mr. Kahle.”

  “It does take some getting used to. I patterned it after an old house in one of my movies. All long hallways and crazy angles. How are your accommodations?”

  “They’re fine. Just fine.”

  “Oh, I wanted to compliment you on the breakfast you prepared this morning. It was such a treat not to have to eat my poor excuse for cooking.”

  “Thank you.”

  “Barbara Jenkins wanted me to tell you how much she enjoyed it, also.”

  Judith’s eyes lit up. “She did? Oh, that’s wonderful.”

  “How’s Barbara treating you?”

  “What?”

  “Have you interacted with her the short time you’ve been here?”

  Judith looked confused. “Yes. A few times.”

  “And everything’s been okay?”

  She nodded. “Yes. I mean, it’s not like we’ve sat down and had long conversations, but she seems real nice.”

  Phillip smiled. “Good. By the way, I thought today you should concentrate on preparing lunch and dinner. Find your way around the kitchen. Tomorrow morning after breakfast you can start working with me on more secretarial functions. How does that sound?”

  “It sounds good. Thank you.”

  The office door opened and Stephen stuck his head inside. “Oh, I’m sorry. I’ll come back later.”

  Phillip motioned for him to enter. “No, we need to talk. I’d like to introduce you to Ms. Collins. Stephen’s my nephew. He lives here also and is part of the organization.”

  Stephen nodded. “Nice to meet you.” He looked down at Phillip’s foot. “What’s that?”

  “A walking cast. It’s much better than those damn crutches. I’ll escort Ms. Collins out. Stay right here.”

  A few minutes later, Phillip hobbled back into the office and shut the door. “When did you get in? I didn’t hear you.”

  “Jeanette picked me up. I stayed with her last night at her sister’s place.”

  “How’s her mother doing?”

  Stephen frowned. “Not so well. The hospice nurse has her on heavy medications. They think it’s only a matter of time now.”

  “She has a hospice nurse? No, that doesn’t sound good. That’s too bad. Maybe it’s better that she can spend this time with her mother.”

  “Yes. Anyway, I have news about Cyrus.”

  Phillip seemed to relax a little. “Oh, how is he?”

  “Not so good. He was in intensive care when I left the hospital. I couldn’t get in to see him. Elena was there. We talked out in the waiting room. Apparently he got burned quite badly when some kind of boat he was in went out of control. They’re still trying to figure out what happened. Two of the kidnappers are dead. They’ve locked up the housekeeper. They’re looking to see if there were more people tangled up in this.”

  Stephen tried to remember everything Elena had told him. “I met the housekeeper that was involved. She seemed like a real nice girl. Anyway, his burns got infected from the mud and swamp water he was laying in. It’s a real mess. There could be a chance he doesn’t make it.”

  Phillip settled back into his chair. “Really? Elena never told me that.”

  “I don’t know when the last time you talked with her was, but he seems to have taken a turn for the worse because of the infection.”

  “That’s dreadful. All because some crazies thought he was loaded and decided to kidnap him.” He shook his head. “What’s this world coming to?”

  “There’s another thing I want to discuss with you.”

  Phillip turned. “Is it about Jeanette?”

  “No. It’s about Cyrus.”

  “There’s more?”

  “I think so. Are you aware of what happened to Caroline’s new husband’s father?”

  Phillip thought for a moment. “Cyrus told me they almost postponed the wedding because he got killed in some kind of car accident. Is that what you’re talking about?”

  “Yes. But you’re not going to believe this. It was a hit and run. Someone hit him and he ended up going over a cliff on Mulholland Drive.”

  Phillip glanced over at the script that was lying on his desk. “That’s terrible, but what does it have to do with Cyrus?”

  “It’s a long story. For some reason when I was in L.A., I had a wild idea that maybe Cyrus’s kidnapping and Richard’s father’s accident were somehow related.”

  Phillip held up his hand. “Wait a minute. Whatever made you think that?”

  “A few things Richard said about what his father was working on when he was killed, and the thought that so many crimes are committed by the people closest to you.” Stephen could see his uncle was gett
ing frustrated.

  “I think that’s ridiculous, but go on.”

  Stephen explained how he had contacted the woman who worked with Richard and how they had visited both of Cyrus’s houses. He purposely left out that they had been followed. “Anyway, when we got to his place in Pearblossom, I saw a late model BMW parked in an old garage with front end damage.”

  Phillip’s eyes narrowed. “Am I hearing this correctly? You think it was Cyrus who smashed into Richard’s father and knocked his car over a cliff?”

  “It does seem a little coincidental, doesn’t it? A late model car with front end damage is parked in a falling down garage in the middle of nowhere.”

  “Did you say Pearblossom? Where’s that? I’ve never heard of it.”

  “I don’t think many people have. It’s a small community about an hour outside of L.A. in the Mojave Desert. They’ve got a small house there with some property. Gayle calls it a ranchette.”

  Phillip shook his head. “I hope you didn’t mention any of this car business to Elena at the hospital yesterday.”

  “No. Of course not. You’re the only one I’ve told. But don’t forget, that newspaper woman, Richard’s partner, was with me.”

  “Dear God. I hope she doesn’t start writing articles about this. If you’re wrong, we could get sued into oblivion.”

  Stephen thought about what Phillip said. “I don’t think she would. There’s nothing much to write about. Nothing’s been proven.”

  “Oh, most importantly, what did Irving have to tell you? That’s the reason you went out there. Not this nonsense about Peachblossom.”

  “It’s Pearblossom. What did Irving tell me? Not much. Actually, nothing. When I asked him to tell me more about what he hinted at to you, the problems between him and Cyrus, he clammed up. Said he couldn’t tell me anything. And that was the word he used. Not wouldn’t tell me anything, but couldn’t. I could tell that was one topic he wasn’t going to budge on.”

  Phillip scratched his head. “Something’s going on. I just don’t understand what it is. But back to that woman reporter you mentioned. You need to call her and make sure she understands the ramifications of any premature reporting. I just can’t believe Cyrus would do, or be involved in, something like that.”

  “Okay. I will. Her number’s up in my room.” Stephen walked by Jeanette’s empty office on the way to the stairs. It just didn’t seem like the same place without her there. And Cora too.

  He climbed the staircase to the second floor and walked down the long hallway to his bedroom. He found Gayle’s number and looked at the clock on his nightstand. It was eleven o’clock in the morning. Pretty early to be calling California. Would she be up by eight a.m.?

  Phillip sounded anxious that he make the call. Stephen picked up the phone and dialed.

  “Hello?”

  Immediately, he could tell she was still in bed. “Good morning. Hey, it’s Stephen. I woke you, didn’t I? I’m really sorry. The reason I’m calling —”

  “Stephen! I’m so glad to hear from you. I was going to call you as soon as I got up. You aren’t going to believe this. I went back to Pearblossom with another reporter, and the car…it’s gone! Did you say anything to Cyrus?”

  “It’s gone? How can that be? No. I never mentioned it. When I stopped by the hospital yesterday, he was in intensive care. I didn’t get to see him. I talked to his wife for a few minutes out in the waiting room, but I never mentioned anything about the car.”

  “Something’s going on, and I hope we can find out what. I couldn’t believe my eyes when I got there. My friend thought I had been having hallucinations.”

  “Look. We talked about this, but you aren’t going to write anything about this for the paper, are you?”

  “Write anything? What would I write about? With the car gone, we don’t have anything. And don’t forget, I don’t even work there anymore. I quit, remember?”

  “Okay. I just wanted to make sure. What do you think happened to the car?”

  “Beats me. But somebody definitely moved it.”

  Nineteen

  After breakfast the next morning, a nervous Judith stepped into Phillip’s office holding a steno pad and pencil. Phillip motioned for her to sit down. “Please, take a seat. This is Allen Moul, a writer I’ve been working with for years. He’ll be staying with us for a few weeks while we work on his script.”

  Alan nodded. “Hello.”

  Judith smiled. “Nice to meet you.”

  Phillip said, “I noticed you moved in a few things yesterday. I hope you find your room comfortable.”

  “Yes. It’s very nice. I plan to bring over more clothes and some personal things this week-end.”

  “Good. All right then. Shall we get started? Allen’s put together the first draft of a movie script. I’ve read it and made some notes. As we’re discussing the script, I’d like you to write down everything we talk about. That way, as things evolve, we can always refer back to the notes you take on what changes we’ve mentioned and when. Any questions?”

  Judith arranged her pad and pencil. “No.”

  Phillip flipped open his copy of the script. “I really like the concept. We’ve been kicking this haunted house idea back and forth for several years now. I think you’ve done an outstanding job with the story. With the success of this year’s The Amityville Horror movie, if things move smoothly, we could have a film out next year, which would be the perfect time for the audiences to be interested in another ghost story.”

  Alan smiled. “That’s exactly what I was thinking.”

  Phillip tapped his pencil on the script. “One thing. You’ve got the setting taking place in New England. I think it’s too close to the Amityville movie. I was thinking of moving it out west. Maybe a haunted saloon or ghost town.” He stopped and smiled. “Ghost town. Did you catch that?”

  Alan shook his head. “You’re such a wit.”

  Phillip looked over at Judith. “Is there something wrong?”

  She was bent over and was feeling around the floor with her fingers. “No. I just dropped my pencil. Oh, here it is.” She sat back up and straightened her blouse. “Okay, you were saying that you wanted to pick up some of the people that like westerns, right?”

  Phillip nodded. “Yes.”

  Judith scribbled furiously. “Okay. I got it.”

  Alan added, “Multiple genres. Good idea.”

  Judith stopped writing. “Multiple what?”

  “Genres. You know. Categories. Like haunted house movies and western movies. They’re two different groups. Two different Genres.”

  She nodded. “How do you spell that?”

  Phillip sighed. “G E N R E S.”

  A slight blush washed over Judith’s cheeks. “Okay.”

  “Moving forward. The end of the first act needs some work. I was thinking we could have the busybody neighbor knock on the door a scene before you have her make her first appearance.”

  Alan scribbled a note in his script. “Yes. That should work.”

  “What about a location?” Phillip asked. “Judith, when we finish up today, call Fitzpatrick over at RKO and see if lot seven is available.”

  “Didn’t that burn down a few months ago?” Allen asked.

  Phillip’s eyes widened. “Really? I never heard about it. Judith, see what you can find out about that.”

  “Who do you want me to call?” Judith asked.

  “Clyde Fitzpatrick at RKO. I’m sure Jeanette has his number in her rolodex.”

  Two hours later, Phillip stood up and stretched. “How about taking a break for lunch.” He turned to Judith. “I bought some cold cuts and whole wheat bread. Could you make us a few sandwiches? There’s a jar of pickles and some potato chips in the kitchen too. Allen and I will move to the dining room.”

  Judith set down her steno pad. “Sure.”

  When she was out of the room, Phillip said, “That was frustrating. I forgot how efficient Jeanette was. It took her about six months to get u
p to speed. I’m wondering about this girl. I have a feeling it’s been a long time since she’s worked before.”

  Alan smiled. “I could see you were getting a little exasperated a few times. How long do you think Jeanette’s going to be gone?”

  Phillip stepped toward the door. “It’s hard to tell. The poor girl’s losing her mother. We’ll just have to do our best.”

  Barbara Jenkins was sitting in the dining room looking at a movie magazine when Phillip and Allen walked in. An almost empty martini glass was in front of her. “How’s it going? I hope you wrote a part for me in the script, Allen.”

  Phillip sat down next to her. “Now, Barbara. No need to filibuster. I’m sure Caroline would like a shot at it too.”

  “She’s out of the running. Now that she’s a married woman, I’m sure she has better things to do.” She winked. “If you know what I mean.”

  “I’m not so sure about that,” Allen said. “Caroline’s been after me to write a haunted house script for over a year now. One of her favorite books is The Haunting of Hill House.”

  Barbara took a sip from her drink and was about to respond when Judith walked in with a plate of sandwiches. “I’ll be right back with some plates.”

  As she headed toward the door, Barbara held up her glass. “I’ll take another, please. Gin, not vodka. Two olives.”

  Phillip frowned. “Barbara. Your second martini already?” He glanced at the clock at the far end of the room. “It’s only a quarter after one.”

  She handed her glass to Judith. “Who said it’s my second?”

  Phillip walked over to Judith and took Barbara’s glass. “Give us a moment, will you?” Judith stepped out into the hallway.

  Phillip turned back to Barbara. “Look. We’ve talked about this before. I can’t have you drinking so early. You promised me you’d do better. This is not going to make a wonderful impression for the new girl. I can’t afford to have her walk out of here like Cora and Jeanette.”

  Barbara grabbed the glass from his hand. “Not a problem. I’ll just go back to my place and have a drink by myself. See you for dinner. Or should I banish myself from your Highness all evening, too?”