Hollywood Murder

by M. Z. Kelly

  Bernie was asleep at my feet as I was wrapping up some paperwork at the station late in the day and Buck McCade stopped by my desk. I felt my heart flutter as I looked up and heard his voice. “I heard what happened. You and Leo did some nice work today.”

  I was upset, not only that my heart was racing, but also because I realized my face was flushed. What my friends had said about Buck seeing me naked flashed through my mind. I took a breath and tried to ignore the signals my body was sending. “Thanks. All things considered, it was a good day for the good guys.”

  He smiled in that disarming way he had. There were more heart flutters. “We could get a drink, celebrate.”

  I tried to keep my voice even. “We’ve already had the discussion about keeping things professional.”

  The smile was still there. “I was just thinking about a beer at the Short Stop.”

  The bar was a long time local hangout for cops. “I’ll take a rain-check. How are things with you and Darby going?”

  He chuckled. “He’s got a few rough edges.” His smile grew wider. “Just like all of us.” He reached over and touched my shoulder. “See you later, Kate.”

  After he was gone, I went back to my paperwork, but had trouble concentrating. Why had I reacted like a love-struck schoolgirl around Buck when I was in love with Noah? While we had feelings for one another at one time, very strong feelings if I was being honest with myself, that was all ancient history. After analyzing my response, I finally dismissed what happened as being a visceral response that had nothing to do with my true feelings.

  Bernie and I got home a little before seven. I heard several voices coming from my friends’ apartment and was doing my best sneak home when I heard Carly Hogg’s voice behind me.

  “Kate, come on over. Nat and Mo got that celeb chef to cook us dinner tonight.”

  I had to admit that I was starving, and having a gourmet meal was appealing. I also knew that once Carly opened her big mouth about me being home, my friends wouldn’t leave me alone until I agreed to join them.

  “Let me get Bernie his dinner and I’ll stop by,” I said.

  Carly was already heading next door as she said, “It should be a lot of fun. Natalie’s making a batch of Barking Hedgehogs.”

  I thought about asking her what she meant, but decided against it. If I knew Natalie, the Hedgehogs were drinks that would leave me with a band of monkeys, or maybe hogs, playing in my head again.

  A half hour later, I’d taken care of Bernie and went next door. My spirits immediately sank when I saw that Nana was in their living room. She was without her gaggle of gigolos. Maybe they were home recovering from some of her antics or planning her bucket list party.

  “Somebody get Kate a Hog,” Nana said when she saw me, “before she poops on our party.”

  Natalie came over with a glass of something that looked like bodily fluids I’d seen at the morgue. “Down it in one gulp and you’ll feel like a new woman.”

  Mo leveled one eye on Nana. “And that’s a helluva lot better than an old woman.”

  I accepted the drink and thought about doing as she suggested, but then came to my senses.

  “I’ll just sip it,” I lied. I had no intention of touching the drink.

  “You’re about as much fun as a case of hemorrhoids,” Nana said to me. She slammed down a Hedgehog, smacking her lips over her oversized dentures when she’d finished. She looked at me. “And believe me, I know a pain-in-the-ass when I see one.”

  Carly apparently thought that was the funniest thing she’d ever heard, or maybe she was just already feeling the effects of her drink. She slapped me on the back. “Kate put the p in party pooper.”

  Natalie defended me. “Kate’s no pooper, she’s just a copper, and has to keep her wits ’bout her.”

  “Unlike you two nitwits,” Mo said, eyeballing Carly and Nana.

  They went on, disparaging my party behavior, as I went into the kitchen. I said my hellos to Marlon Pavarotti and asked the celebrity cook about his creation.

  “It’s a secret recipe that’s been handed down from generation to generation in my family, called a Fluffenschnitzel. You take one of these and boil it in vinegar, then add some German wieners.” I lost my appetite as he held up the largest egg I’d ever seen, not to mention the batch of huge wieners that were on the counter.

  “I see,” I said. “It sounds…unique.” The hog drink was calling to me again, but I resisted.

  Marlon spent a further minute listing the other ingredients in his dish, including mustard, chickweed, and gooseberries, until I was feeling almost as green around the gills as my untouched drink.

  “Kate, you need to get back in here.” It was Mo, calling to me.

  I went into the living room and saw that Nana had fallen. I rushed over to her as Carly and my friends tried to get her back on her feet.

  “Are you all right?” I said.

  “I’ve ff…fallen and I can’t gg…get up,” Nana said, laughing hysterically. “Somebody get me one of them pp…panic buttons old people ww…wear.”

  I realized she was physically fine, other than being under the influence of a Barking Hedgehog. After a couple of failed attempts, we all managed to get her back on her feet.

  “I’m g..going to model my zz…zombie dress,” Nana said, staggering into the bedroom.

  When she was gone, Mo said, “Lordy, help us all. I think I need me another hog.”

  While Nana changed, Carly mentioned our upcoming move to the Starlight Mobile Home Park. “I hear you’re all going to be living with the living dead.”

  “We ain’t livin’ with the…d…dead,” Mo said, now also slurring her words.

  Natalie was also UI Hedgehog. “We got us two…first cl…class coaches.”

  Carly guffawed. “You mean roaches. I think we need to hold you a housewarming party. Maybe Nana can bring her posse along—and some bug bombs.”

  The thought of Nana and her gigolos invading the Starlight made me wonder if Maude would find a way to evict us in the first week.

  “My Fluffenschnitzel is ready,” Marlon said, coming over from the kitchen with a big bowl of his creation.

  Even from where I stood, it smelled like vinegar and rotten eggs. To make matters worse, the German wieners had been layered around the creation, making it look like something, or maybe several somethings, had given up the most sensitive part of their anatomy for the dish. Marlon took a couple of minutes, dishing up his creation for everyone, including serving each of us a large wiener.

  “I want the biggest one of them you got,” Mo said, as Marlon dished up the wieners.

  After Mo was served, Carly accepted her bowl, but, in her drunken state, reached in and removed the wiener. She reached back into Marlon’s bowl and substituted one that was larger. “Sorry, but size does matter, especially when it comes to a Fluffenschnitzel.”

  Natalie held up her offering and said, “Kind of reminds me of a guy named Harry Stokes I once knew.”

  Bernie came over as I accepted a bowl and did my best to put their comments out of my mind. He sniffed the air and immediately took off like a horse out of a starting gate. I set the Fluffenschnitzel on the table next to my Hedgehog, deciding my friends were hopeless and I was destined to starve. I looked up in time to see Nana staggering out of the bedroom.

  “I think I’m kind of…pre…tty,” Nana said, doing a pirouette and almost falling over. “What…dd..do…you…th…think?”

  “I think we’re going to need a net to catch you and throw you in the looney bin.” Of course, I didn’t say it, I was too busy collapsing with laughter, like my friends. Natalie and Carly were so dumbstruck with hilarity that they fell on the floor, where they went into convulsions. Mo slumped down in her chair as she belly-laughed and then slid onto the floor next to them. Even Marlon joined in the laugh-fest.

  “What’s so fu…funny?” Nana demanded, putting her hands on her skinny hips.

  I didn’t know if it was the ripped up dress that
exposed too many of Nana’s unmentionable areas to mention, or the fact that in her drunken stupor her wig had apparently come off and she’d put it on backward. All I did know was that I was looking at something that looked like it belonged in a retirement home for zombies. Then I had another thought—Nana just might fit in perfectly at the Starlight.

  Maybe it was the shock of seeing Nana in her zombie outfit, or the fact that my friends were all rip-roaring drunk, but I made one—no make that two—of the biggest mistakes in my life. I slammed down my Barking Hedgehog, then ate a big bowl of Marlon’s Fluffenschnitzel.

  SIXTY-EIGHT

  “Oh, God, somebody shoot me.”

  I slumped down at my desk the next morning and rubbed by temples. Bernie looked up, gave me a mournful stare, and whined.

  “Don’t tell me you went out and celebrated breaking our case?” Leo asked.

  “No, I just spent the night with a hog and a big wiener.” His silver brows inched together as he looked at me. “If you don’t ask, I promise not to tell.”

  After taking something for my headache, I spent the next hour dealing with the revenge of the Fluffenschnitzel before attending a meeting in Oz’s office. Even though I was feeling better, Selfie noticed my distress. “You okay, Kate?”

  I sighed. “Just had a rough night with a Hedgehog and a Fluffenschnitzel.”

  “It sounds like you went to the zoo,” Molly said.

  I nodded, thinking about Nana and my friends. “You might say that.”

  Even Oz realized something was amiss. “If you need a couple of hours off, just let me know.”

  “Thanks, but I think I’m better off at work.”

  Our lieutenant smiled and looked at Selfie and Molly. “Thanks to your excellent work, it looks like Meagan Pressley will spend the rest of her life in prison.” He tossed a couple of job announcements across the table. He said to Molly, “That’s the flyer for Crime Analyst. I want you to apply.”

  “It’s not exactly detective pay, but it will help out,” Selfie said to our secretary.

  “Believe me, any raise is a good raise,” Molly said.

  “There’s a job announcement there for you, as well,” Oz told our crime analyst. “It’s a promotional flyer to a level three.”

  “Awesome.” Selfie looked at her counterpart and they did a fist bump.

  “How is Shelia Woods handling things?” Leo asked Oz, thinking about yesterday’s events.

  “She made the expected complaint about being left out of your interview with the reverend. But I think she got over it, thanks to Meagan shooting her boyfriend. It should make for good copy on her show.”

  “I’m sure Sam Berger is happy he could oblige,” I said.

  “We might have something brewing on the Marsh case that just might ensure our promotions,” Molly said.

  Our two civilian employees glanced at one another in a way that reminded me of Natalie and Mo when they have a secret. “Let’s hear it.”

  Our pretty secretary pushed a strand of hair behind her ear and began. “We went back over the case and relooked at everything that happened from the day the maid was murdered and the kidnapping took place. We also got some additional information this morning that might explain a lot of things.” She looked at Selfie, who took over.

  “Two bodies, a male and a female, were found in a densely forested area of Big Bear yesterday. Someone who owns a secluded cabin heard gunshots the night before last. He explored the area and eventually found the bodies. The San Bernardino Sheriff’s Office is still investigating what happened, but they had the medical examiner run the fingerprints of the decedents through AFIS.”

  AFIS was the Automated Fingerprint Identification System used by most law enforcement agencies, and maintained by the FBI. It was a repository of millions of prints, both criminal and civil, on subjects throughout the United States. I remembered from a training session that it took about ten minutes to run someone’s prints through the system.

  Selfie went on, “The male was identified as Frank Andrew Dyer, age thirty-four. He’s a small time private investigator who lived in Los Angeles. He had a couple of petty theft beefs as a juvenile and a misdemeanor assault about three years ago, nothing else.”

  What Molly said next got our full attention. “The prints on the female were a positive match for Allison Marsh’s best friend. Deirdre Cole died in the forest two nights ago with Frank Dyer. It’s also noteworthy there were a couple of recently dug graves nearby.”

  Selfie used her remote and we saw a mug shot of Frank Dyer and a file photograph of Deidre Cole, taken when she’d worked for a school district a few years earlier. The identifiers said that Dyer was six feet, one eighty. He had reddish-brown hair.

  “The graves were probably meant for Dyer and Cole, but whoever shot them was in a hurry and didn’t bother with the burials,” Selfie said.

  My adrenaline was now pumping. I looked at Leo. “There has to be something that further connects Dyer and Cole.”

  Before he could answer, Selfie said, “As it turns out, Dyer’s a big player in our case.” My brows lifted as she went on. “Karen Dodd was in his car three years ago when Dyer was arrested on assault charges.” She pushed some arrest reports across the table to us. “According to the officers, he was trying to collect on a debt someone owed him. Dodd said she was dating Dyer and was just along for the ride.”

  She and Molly went on for a moment, giving us a few more details from the reports. I barely heard what they said. I was already sifting through the puzzle pieces. We now knew that both Allison Marsh’s sister and her best friend had a connection to Frank Dyer, a small time private investigator. I was still trying to make sense of those connections when Leo asked a question.

  “What about this Frank Dyer and Deidre Cole? Were you able to establish any relationship between them?”

  Selfie picked up a remote, and in a moment we saw images of a restaurant appear on one of the overhead monitors. “This CCTV footage outside a breastaurant called Justine’s. It’s a couple of blocks from Vincent Marsh’s law office.”

  “Breastaurant?” Leo said, looking at me.

  “You’re showing your age, big guy.”

  Oz filled in the details. “It’s a place where the servers wear skimpy outfits, show some cleavage, and serve a lot of beer and burgers.”

  I looked at our sixty-something lieutenant, lifting my brows.

  “I read it somewhere.” He looked at Selfie and Molly. “Go on.”

  Selfie clicked her remote, and in a moment we saw video of several people entering and leaving the restaurant. Selfie froze the picture and zoomed in on a man and a woman coming out of Justine’s. “If you’ll look closely, you’ll see a couple of familiar faces.”

  The picture was fuzzy, but I immediately recognized Vincent Marsh. The woman with him had red hair and it took me a moment, then I knew. “Deidre Cole.”

  “Give the lady a teddy bear,” Selfie said. “Allison’s best friend had dyed her hair, but it’s our girl.”

  Now, we had a connection between Allison’s husband and her best friend. More pieces of the puzzle were starting to align as they continued.

  “There’s one other image that we think you’ll find of interest,” Molly said. She used her remote, and another close-up of a couple leaving the same restaurant appeared. “This shot was taken a couple of weeks after the previous image. Deidre apparently has a fondness for Justine’s. As you can see in this picture, she’s with Mr. Dyer. We did a little digging and learned that Deidre had used Dyer’s PI skills at one time to get the goods on her cheating ex. According to those close to Deidre, she and Dyer then began a relationship for a period of time.”

  After Selfie and Molly assured me there were no other details they were holding back, I drew in a breath and released it slowly. The pieces seemed to all be in front of us, but they were still scattered. “Let me see if I can make some sense of what we just learned,” I said.

  Bernie came over to Oz and was rewar
ded with a goody from his bag of treats. “Go for it,” the lieutenant said.

  “Allison Marsh and her children were taken from their home in Hancock Park last Sunday. During the kidnapping their maid, Maria Chavez, was butchered. Ransom demands were subsequently made of Allison’s wealthy father, Henry Montreal. While all this was happening, Allison’s husband, Vincent, was shot and killed in the hotel room where he’d been staying.” I looked at Leo. “Possibly by Allison’s best friend, Deidre Cole.”

  “You’re thinking Vince Marsh and Deidre Cole were involved?” Leo asked.

  “I’m just speculating, but we know they were together at Justine’s at one time. Deidre was a very attractive woman and Vincent Marsh was a player.”

  I turned the facts over in my mind again for a moment. Something Natalie’s boyfriend had once said about magic acts suddenly came to mind. Izzy Cluck had told me that every magic trick or illusion hinges on one simple thing: misdirection.

  I continued to try and make the pieces fit. “We know that both Deidre Cole and Allison’s sister Karen were also involved with Frank Dyer at one time. While there was a connection between all three subjects, I think a couple of the involved parties weren’t aware of that fact.”

  “Now you’re losing me,” Leo said. Oz concurred.

  My thoughts became more focused, the Hedgehog hangover now a distant memory. “We know that Karen Dodd had issues with her father. Henry Montreal and his wife Georgette basically disowned her because she was the result of Henry having an affair with his former college sweetheart. Henry is not only extremely wealthy, he’s also the world’s biggest tightwad. It could be that Karen resented her father for both rejecting her and never sharing his wealth.”