* * *
Lawrence entered his room, which was dimly lit by the fireplace. For a moment he wondered who had started it, then he saw a shivering Detective Carson and locked the door behind him. Carson looked at him warily but without any of the anger of their previous encounters.
“Let me get you some dry clothes,” said Lawrence quietly as he went to the dresser. He found something suitable and handed it to Carson. “You can change in the bathroom while I light a few candles.”
“You’re not going to ask if I’m the murderer?”
“If I thought you were the murderer, I wouldn’t have come in here and locked us in. I’m not that hard up for companions. Go change, then tell me what happened.”
By the time Carson returned, Lawrence had not only lit the candles in the room but had made up a bed on the couch for his unexpected guest. He’d also divided the food, wine and water he’d brought for his dinner.
“Thank you,” said Carson, as he took his plate. “I imagine you have a lot of questions.”
“They can wait until you’ve eaten. I suspect you’re pretty hungry.”
“Starving. Life can be tough when you’re on a stake-out, but I haven’t experienced cold and hunger like that since the war.”
Lawrence ate his own meal, studying the man across from him at the little table. It had taken a lot of courage for Carson to have come there and not just the sort of courage one expected from a police detective.
Once they’d finished eating, Carson finally sat back and breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank you. I tried to get back to town, but the roads are impassable. It’s also freezing out there.”
“I can imagine. Why did you escape your room?”
“Someone tried to break in a little before dawn. I figured whoever it was wasn’t bringing me any food. I’d already figured a way out earlier, so I simply used it to escape.”
“I don’t suppose you saw anyone tamper with the bridge or Greta fall into the ravine below.”
“Nope on either account. It was too dark to see my way last night, so I hid in the icehouse until dawn then tried to find my way out of here. But it was useless. What happened in my absence?”
“Well, your boss might not be too pleased to hear Finn O’Donnell is dead.” Lawrence explained how he’d been found.
“Do you think it was an accident?”
“It’s hard to say, since that happens a lot once you start injecting drugs. But, given the other murders, I’d have to say it increases the chances that someone killed him.”
“And I’m the number one suspect?”
“Some people think so.”
“Anyone in particular?”
Lawrence took a sip of wine. “Barker.”
Carson groaned. “Well, I can’t blame the guy since I definitely look good for this, given my escape. But I hope he’s not the kind who shoots first and asks questions later.”
“Aren’t all law enforcement types that way?” Lawrence asked with a smile.
Carson chuckled. “I can’t fault you for that. What’s the plan?”
“We wait here until we can go for help. You speak German, right?”
“Enough to get by.”
“Does the word ‘stern’ mean anything to you?”
“Well, there’s stern, like the nautical term. But ‘stern’ in German means star. Why?”
“Just another puzzle to solve.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE
Josie lay in bed in David’s arms, as they discussed their predicament. It was sometime after midnight and the storm seemed to be subsiding outside, though the rain was still pouring down. “Do you think Greta is from the future?” she asked. “If so, what brought her back here?”
“She might not be from the future. She might just know about time travel. Too bad we’ll never get the chance to question her.”
“Except she’s alive. I’m sure of it.”
“But why fake her own death?”
“I don’t know why that woman does anything. Maybe someone really was trying to set her up on that microfilm. I think we were supposed to find it at Agent Medway’s apartment. Someone wanted us to believe Greta’s a spy.”
David pulled back to get a good look at his wife. “Are you telling me you don’t think Greta’s a spy? That she’s the good guy in all of this?”
“Don’t be ridiculous. I’m sure she’s a Nazi spy and if she did fake her own death – which she totally did – she killed someone to make it look convincing. I’m just saying there are two bad guys and we don’t know who the other one is. Actually, there are more than two bad guys, given the abundance of swastikas, but you know what I mean.”
Suddenly, the sound of organ music began playing from somewhere downstairs. “Is there an organ here?” asked Josie. “What do the Nazis need with a damned organ? Like this Hitler vacation home isn’t creepy enough without one?”
“I don’t know, but I’m going to find out,” said David as he quickly got dressed. “Stay here.”
“Not on your life.”
“Josie...”
“Forget it,” she said, as she quickly pulled on trousers and a sweater. “Let’s go.”
They headed out of their room and down the dark hall.
“What’s going on?” asked Grant, as he joined them. “Wasn’t this place creepy enough without an organ?”
“See?” Josie asked David.
They followed the music down to the dark first floor.
“It sounds like it’s coming from the theater,” said Josie. As they drew closer to the room, they saw the flicker of a movie playing inside.
They entered the room to find it deserted, but a silent movie was playing with recorded organ music.
“It’s just some old silent movie,” said David.
“I wish it was silent,” said Grant. “That music is loud enough to wake the dead.”
“It’s not just any old movie,” said Josie as she studied the screen in front of her. “It’s that F.W. Murnau movie Greta wanted us to watch, Nosferatu.”
“What’s going on?” asked Lawrence, as he, Dora and Blake entered the room just as the movie vampire was preying on men in the village.
Josie walked closer to the screen because there was something odd about the scene.
“Oh my God,” said Dora, just as Josie saw it, too. “Blake, what are you doing in a German movie?” There he was onscreen, a young Blake from fifteen years earlier, playing a villager in the movie.
He must’ve anticipated the question, because Blake pulled out a gun, then held Dora in front of him as a shield, putting the gun to her temple.
“What are you doing?” she asked. “What’s going on?”
“Shut up! I want everybody to slowly move into the sitting room.” When they hesitated, he pressed the gun to Dora’s temple. “Do it!”
“You’re German,” said Josie, as they all moved to the nearby sitting room. “You used to be an actor, just not in Sunday school plays in America. You were an actor in Germany. You’re the spy.
“I’m a German patriot,” said Blake.
“How long have you been here?” asked Josie.
“Several years, once it became apparent that my acting skills could be put to good use by the Third Reich.”
“Shoot this Nazi thug,” Dora said to her friends, as she struggled against him.
“Your friends aren’t going to do that,” said Blake. “Especially once they realize they’re outnumbered. Come on out, Kamilla.”
Frau Zimmer walked out of the shadows holding a gun.
“So, you two gave each other an alibi for O’Donnell’s murder,” said David. “Which one of you killed him?”
“I did,” said Blake. “He was going to betray me sooner or later to the FBI.”
“Were you his partner in the drug enterprise?” asked David.
“Yeah. I was getting to know the power players in Hollywood well enough that we could’ve been making big money in no time. Most of the people at the German America
n League liked the plan, but Greta didn’t. She’s the one who tried to shoot O’Donnell on the mountain that day.”
“Almost hitting David in the meantime,” said Josie.
“Trust me, if she’d wanted to kill your husband, she would’ve done so. O’Donnell must’ve moved at the last minute.”
“Which of you killed Herr Zimmer?” asked Grant.
Frau Zimmer smiled. “I had one of the guards do it, who then ran out the back stairs. It was a long time in coming, and not just for what he used to do to me. Straub has been looking into our bookkeeping practices, and once it became known that Karl had been dipping into League funds to build this place, he was going to die anyway. I just saved the League the trouble.”
“What about us?” asked Lawrence. “How are you going to explain the deaths of all of us, including a federal agent?”
“More than one person can fall into a ravine,” said Blake. “Plus, there’s a rogue LAPD detective on the loose, until we find him and kill him, of course. He’ll take the blame for your deaths.”
“Why did you come to Hollywood?” asked David. “And why use Dora?”
“We wanted to influence American public opinion, and Hollywood was the perfect way to do that. As for Dora, she helped me infiltrate the communists.”
“Is anyone in the Hollywood Communist Party actually a communist?” asked Lawrence. “Or is it all FBI agents and Nazis?”
Blake smirked. “I was looking for a way in, when I found Dora. She was an easy target in all senses of the word.”
“Why isn’t anyone shooting this guy?” asked Dora. “One of you must have a gun. I don’t care if I get in the way. It’d be an honor to die while one of you killed a damned Nazi.”
“I have a question, Blake, or whatever your name is,” said Lawrence. “It must have been inconvenient when H.W. Murnau moved to Hollywood, the one man who could tell the world you weren’t who you said you were. Did he really die in a car accident?”
“Yes, but with a little help from me.”
“What about Agent Medway?” asked Grant. “You knew her as Caroline Armitage.”
“I knew her as both. Our contacts in the United States are extensive. We knew that an FBI agent had infiltrated the local communist group, though we hadn’t learned the agent’s identity. But I immediately became suspicious of Caroline since she was the only one who ever wanted to take action. Then I started following her and found it very suspicious that she had an apartment in Bunker Hill in addition to her house in Venice.”
“Why’d you kill her?” asked Josie.
“She was a little too good at her job. The communists were actually making it harder for the League to recruit. We wanted them just active enough to distract the police and FBI, but not so violent that it scared away the people we want to attract.”
“And who’s that?” asked Josie.
“People who can be convinced that war with Germany isn’t in their best interests. We need America to remain neutral in order to advance German goals.”
“You mean the annexation of Europe,” said Josie.
“As a start.”
“Back to Agent Medway,” said David. “How’d you kill her when you spent the night at the police station?”
“I’d intended to kill her at the riot but didn’t get the opportunity. We both got away and went back to her place, though she said it was a friend’s apartment. You should’ve seen the surprise on her face when I killed her.”
“Then you planted the microfilm,” said David.
“Yes. I’d been carrying it around for a while and finally got the chance to stash it there. It was an insurance policy to throw suspicion onto Ralph Harris since O’Donnell was becoming more and more reckless. If you thought Harris was spying for Germany it’d give us a chance to shut O’Donnell up.”
“But why implicate Greta?” asked Lawrence.
“Ah, Greta, the Nazi Princess, just because of who her uncle is. Greta didn’t like our plan to finance operations through selling drugs, because she thought it’d draw too much unwanted attention. She was also insane. She kept talking about time travel and there are people high up in the German government – very high up – who believe such things are possible. I thought she was just selling them a bill of goods to get attention, but when I heard all of you talking about it, I began to wonder if there wasn’t something to it. You can be certain I’ll look into it once you’re all dead.”
“That’s why you killed Greta?” asked David. “Because you felt threatened by her?”
“He’s a small man,” said Dora. “In all senses of the word.”
“I tried to kill Greta because I knew she’d report back to Berlin about our drug dealing plans. I ran her off the road the night I killed your agent – it was a busy evening for me. I just barely got to the jail before calling Dora to come pick me up. Unfortunately, Greta survived it. But all it took was one wrong step on a bridge to do the job. I just wish I’d been the one to kill her.”
“It wasn’t you?” asked Grant.
Blake shook his head. “A fortuitous accident.”
“Is Stern your code name?” asked Lawrence.
“Why, yes, it is. How’d you know that?”
“It means ‘star,’ which is a bit of a promotion, considering you’ve always been such a bit player.”
Blake narrowed his eyes. “I’m going to enjoy killing you.”
“That’s not going to happen,” said Carson as he walked into the room with his gun drawn. “Drop your weapons.”
Frau Zimmer turned to shoot him, but Carson was quicker. Zimmer’s shot went wide, but Carson’s aim was true. Dora used the distraction to stomp on Blake’s instep, which loosened his grip enough that she was able to get away. He moved to shoot her, then Carson shot him instead. He dropped to the ground, with a shot to the chest. A moment later he was dead.
“That was some pretty good shooting,” said Grant. “Where’d you get the gun?”
“I always travel with two, and you only took one off me. I also have a knife,” he glanced at Lawrence with appreciation. “But I didn’t have to use it.”
“And you turned on the movie in the middle of the night?” asked Grant.
Carson shook his head. “Nope. I have no idea who did that.”
“I’m pretty sure I do,” said Josie.
CHAPTER THIRTY-TWO
The roads cleared enough that morning so the police could arrive, only to find the FBI already at the crime scene. After Grant filled them in on what had occurred, they set about documenting the evidence. While the federal authorities originally expressed little interest in the compound, that changed once agents uncovered hundreds of machine guns and thousands of rounds of ammunition, along with radios capable of transmitting to Berlin.
“Well, that should keep the boys busy for a while,” said Grant as he and his friends met in the courtyard to drive back to town. “This was quite a party you had, David. The body count was even higher than the last time around.”
“It wasn’t my party,” said David.
“Nonetheless, the next time you come back, let’s just have a quiet night at Lawrence’s.”
“Speaking of which,” said Lawrence, who had his arm around Dora, “let’s head back to town. Detective Carson, I hope you’ll join us for dinner tomorrow night. It’s Grant’s last night in town.”
“And ours, as well,” said David. “When this compound makes the news, the American public isn’t going to be quite as anxious to trust Germany. I believe the future will unfold as it should.”
* * *
Dinner the next night had a festive mood, despite Dora finding out the man she’d almost been in love with was a cold-blooded, murdering Nazi.
“Well,” she said, as she took a sip of her third, much-deserved martini, “at least I’ll be sure to top everyone the next time people share stories of bad boyfriends.”
Kurt showed up at the party without a date and, as usual, a little uncertain of what had just occurre
d. “One thing’s for certain, I’m going to stay far away from blondes.”
“While that’s probably wise,” said Dora, “I don’t think hair color is as important as political affiliation. Stay away from Nazis, Kurt, regardless of how they look.”
It was an unexpected but welcome surprise when Detective Carson showed up. He was a bit timid at first, but when everyone treated him as the hero he was, he began to relax. And from the way he and Lawrence kept glancing at each other from across the table, it was clear it wouldn’t be their last dinner together.
“Was there a positive identification of Greta?” Carson asked Grant.
Grant shook his head. “No. The body had been exposed to the storm for too long. The clothing matched what Greta had been wearing that day, but there was no way of knowing if it was really her.”
“Did you ever find Renate?” asked David.
“I went to the League and questioned Straub about it personally, but he wasn’t too happy to see me, especially since we already had a team over there with search warrants. He said Renate had left for Germany with no plans to return. He suggested our consulate in Berlin take it up with the authorities there, while also giving me the impression he didn’t think it’d be a very fruitful conversation. That guy is a pain in my b…” A look at the ladies at the table had him ending that sentence with “butt.” “Do you really have to leave tomorrow?” Grant asked David and Josie.
“I think it’s for the best,” said David. “Just to make sure we don’t change anything else. But we’ll miss you all.”
They all sat in silence for a moment as they contemplated the future but were interrupted when Eduardo brought in a platter of tacos.
“When did you show up again?” Grant asked him.
“Early this morning,” he said, smiling. “I had an unexpected vacation.”
“I told you he’d be back,” said Lawrence.
Eduardo grinned, then went back to the kitchen.
“So, Vernon,” said Dora. “I can call you Vernon, can’t I, since I suspect I’m going to be seeing quite a lot of you?”
The Tinseltown Murderer Page 22