"I have to preserve my looks for my modeling. I could kill you for manhandling me like that," Astrid hissed.
"Like you killed Philip?" Darlene challenged.
"I did not kill Philip!" Astrid insisted.
"Oh, yeah? Bebe, have you got it with you?"
I opened my purse and pulled out the gold triangle earring. "What about this, Astrid? We found it in Philip's room. You said you hadn't been in Philip's room the day he was murdered."
"Give me that," Astrid said, making a lunge for the earring.
I held it out of her reach.
Darlene stepped between us. "You lay a hand on her and I'll beat you until the only photo shoots you'll do will be for horror movies."
"You can't prove that earring belongs to me," Astrid said.
"Yes, I can," I replied. "Mr. Williams has a picture of you with these earrings on, remember? He showed them to you that day at the Legends lounge."
"I remember."
"It would be quite a coincidence that another woman with the exact pair of earrings dropped one in Philip's room the day he was murdered."
"Okay, so you can prove I was in Philip's room. That doesn't mean I killed him," Astrid said.
I put the earring back in my purse.
"You had the motive—he'd dropped you—and the opportunity when you came in his room and saw him in the bath playing the guitar," I said. "You killed him."
Astrid shook her head. "I was there before he got in the bath. We were going to reconcile. In fact, we made love that afternoon."
"That's impossible. He was with me that morning," Darlene said.
"Don't you know anything?" Astrid sneered. "Men can be with one woman in the morning and another in the afternoon."
Darlene glared. "Why did you go to Patty Gentry if not to plant the idea of another killer and take any heat off yourself? You know you look guilty."
Astrid tossed her hair. "I didn't think she'd turn on me. Patty was a good way for me to get publicity. She never let me down in England. Any publicity is good."
"This is a murder case, not an opportunity for you to further your career," I said. "Don't you have any respect for the dead?"
Astrid snorted. "Patty's been useful in the past. But I know not to trust her now."
"Fat lot of good that does the band and Rip-City, doesn't it?" Darlene said. "Besides, Patty says she knows who the killer is. Maybe she thinks you did it."
Astrid picked up her cigarettes from where they'd fallen to the floor. "I'll take care of that."
With those menacing words, she flounced out of the room.
CHAPTER TWENTY-THREE
"Oh, God, that feels good. Mmmmm. Aaaahhh."
"Darlene, you've been in that tub for half an hour," I said, talking from the other side of the bathroom door.
"Bebe, I have muscles aching I didn't know I had. This hot water is heavenly. And the way the water turns cold in this apartment I'm lucky there was enough to heat the whole tub."
"Are we still going through with our plan to see Detective Finelli?"
"Absolutely. Stu's joining us. He's meeting us here at nine. Have you called Bradley to ask for the morning off?"
I twirled a piece of hair. "No. I guess I'd better do that now. I hope he won't be difficult about it."
"Just pour on that Southern charm, Bebe. Bradley will melt like a stick of butter in the Texas sun."
"Okay."
Officially the office didn't open until nine, but Bradley, hard worker that he was, usually arrived around eight thirty. I'd made it a practice to be there at that time as well—it was nice to have that half hour alone with him before coworkers began to arrive—so he might have noticed my absence already. I called on his private line.
"Bradley Williams."
"Mr. Williams, it's me, Bebe Bennett."
"Good morning, Miss Bennett. How are you?"
"I'm fine, but I have a favor to ask."
"Oh, what's that?"
"Well, you see, Darlene and I have to do something this morning. I need the morning off. I'll be in at lunchtime, though."
"Does this something that you and Miss Roland have to do involve the murder investigation?"
I twirled my hair again and chewed my bottom lip. I could hear the disapproval in his voice. "Actually, it does. We want to meet with Detective Finelli and bring to his attention some evidence in the case," I said defiantly.
"That's all you're going to do? You're not going to put yourself in any danger?"
"Oh, no. We'll be at the police station. What safer place could we be?"
"You could be here in my office, where you should be. But go ahead and see the detective. I'll expect you at noon."
"Thank you, Mr. Williams. You can count on me."
We hung up, and I went to my closet to get dressed. I could hear Darlene moving around in her room, so she must have managed to pry herself from the tub.
We were both dressed by the time Stu arrived promptly at nine. Darlene had on a horizontally striped pink-and-green knit dress. I wore a camel-colored suit with leopard-patterned buttons.
Stu was his usual exuberant self. He looked like the self-assured heir he was in a deceptively simple navy suit with light blue pinstripes. I was willing to bet it came from Saville Row in London. Stu was the type who would take time to shop while in London.
"Hey, doll," he greeted Darlene, and wrapped her in a big hug.
She groaned.
He pulled back and looked at her. "What's the matter with my favorite girl?"
"She got into a catfight with Astrid yesterday at the
hotel." I reported primly. "Darlene came out on top, but Astrid got in a few blows." I gave Darlene a look of severe disapproval.
"Gee, I'm sorry I missed that," Stu said. "Did either of your clothes get ripped and reveal some skin?"
Darlene gave him a playful punch in the arm.
"Seriously, doll, are you all right? If not, remember I know some people who could expose information on Miss Astrid Loveday that would make her long blond locks frizz up like a Halloween wig."
"I'm fine, Stu. But thanks for your concern. I managed to get Astrid to admit she'd made up those statements about me seeing Philip before his Sight from London to New York. And Bebe is my witness."
"Great. You're a doll, with many talents," he said, and winked at her. "We can include that in our talk with Detective Finelli. Anything else?"
Darlene looked at Stu with a seductive smile. "I have bruises all over me. Maybe you could give me a massage—"
I interrupted her. "Astrid claims she and Philip reconciled the afternoon of the day he was murdered. They were ... uh ..." I stumbled for the right words.
"They'd been screwing," Darlene piped up.
I blushed.
Stu looked thoughtful.
"Well, that's what Astrid said they'd been doing. I don't know that I believe her one little bit," Darlene added.
"Astrid also said that Patty Gentry had been her ally. She didn't seem to understand how Patty could have turned on her and written those nasty comments in her article," I explained.
"Speaking of Miss Gentry, I thought we might also want to pay a little visit to her, so I took the liberty of finding out what hotel she's staying at," Stu said.
Darlene and I smiled.
"You're mint, Stu, and I don't mean because of the Minty-Mouth company," Darlene said, and again gave him that sexy grin. "I can almost forgive you for all the stewardesses you probably flirted with on the trip over to London and back."
"Nobody who can hold a candle to you, doll. Come on; let's go," Stu said, holding the door open for me and putting an arm around Darlene.
We arrived at the police station, and a desk sergeant took our names. A few minutes passed. I could see Detective Finelli through a glass wall. He glanced up at us from where he sat at his desk. The desk sergeant returned and opened the door to us.
The room was crowded with detectives and police on the phone or writing reports. It seemed to me that all of
them looked up at our appearance. Darlene flashed her big Texas smile, causing the men to grin back.
Detective Finelli walked over to us. "Miss Roland, Miss Bennett. What can I do for you?"
"This is Stu Daniels, a friend of ours. He's just returned from London," Darlene said. "We have a number of things to go over with you regarding Philip Royal's death."
"Is that right?"
"Yes, and I think you'd better hear us out," I said.
Detective Finelli looked wary, but he said, "All right, come with me down to the conference room, where we can be private."
We reached a big room with orange-upholstered chairs arranged around a large table. I was relieved to see it. I had thought for a minute that we would be led to a room with a small table and a bright light hanging over it.
Detective Finelli closed the door and motioned for us to be seated. "Now, what's this all about?"
I took the lead. "First we'll tell you some facts we found out; then we'll tell you who we think killed Philip Royal. And you'd better believe us, because we're right."
Detective Finelli got out his notebook and looked at me skeptically.
I took a deep breath. "The other members of the band are not above suspicion. Keith, for example, has quite a temper. He held a grudge against Philip because he says he was the original leader of the band. Also, Keith did not like the direction the band was taking musically. They argued a lot. Keith resented the fact that the band used to be called just the Beefeaters, and then Nigel changed it to Philip Royal and the Beefeaters."
Darlene said, "Philip told me that Keith was a hothead with a huge ego who drank too much and had tried cocaine."
I looked at Darlene in surprise. She hadn't told me about the cocaine. Good thing I didn't go out on any dates with him.
Stu said, "You know how crazy people get when they're on cocaine, Detective. The two could have had a fight and Keith did him in."
Detective Finelli looked up from his notes. "That all you got on Keith?"
"Yes," I said, feeling frustrated. Detective Finelli didn't seem to think it was much. "Then there's Peter, the drummer. Evidently Philip thought he was getting too old to be in the band. He routinely threatened to fire Peter. And we know for a fact that Peter was in Philip's room that day." I looked at Darlene.
Out of her purse, Darlene pulled the tie tack. "Peter wears these as part of a gimmick. While I was in Philip's room the night of the murder, it stuck to my shoe. You know Philip had just checked into the hotel that day. This puts Peter at the scene of the crime. And he had motive if he thought he was going to be cut from the band. We interviewed Peter, and he's a nervous wreck. He admitted to being in Philip's room and trying to talk to Philip while he was in the bath. Peter claims Philip wouldn't talk to him, so he left. But Peter might have plugged in the guitar before he went."
Detective Finelli continued to take notes with that maddeningly expressionless look on his face. "Why didn't you turn that tie tack in to me?"
Darlene looked militant. "I am now."
"You should have before now, Miss Roland," Detective Finelli said, and scowled.
"While I hate to say it, because I like Reggie, he also had motive to see Philip dead," I began, to keep Darlene from scratching the detective's eyes out. "You see, Philip didn't like the fact that Reggie was married with a son. He thought it was bad for the pop-star image. So he had photos of Reggie taken with young female fans sitting on his lap. He wrote to Jean—that's Reggie's wife—and insinuated that Reggie was having affairs. Reggie was furious."
Detective Finelli looked up from his notebook. "Is that all you've got?"
The detective was starting to sound like a broken record.
Darlene stood up. "Wait a minute. We've been doing all this investigating. We've come up with suspects who have motive and opportunity. Are you still so determined to pin this on me?"
"The investigation is going forward here at the precinct as well, Miss Roland. We haven't charged you with anything yet."
"I guess I'm supposed to be grateful for that." Darlene fumed as Stu put a soothing arm around her, and she sat back down. "But I'm going to lose my job if you don't lift this ridiculous ban on my flying."
Detective Finelli rolled his right shoulder in a mannerism I took to indicate his frustration. "No one leaves town until we make an arrest."
"Well, let me tell you who you should be arresting," Darlene said, standing up and leaning over the detective, hands on hips. "Astrid Loveday. All three of us agree that she's the one who killed Philip."
CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR
"Sit down, Miss Roland. We're having a civilized conversation here," Detective Finelli said. "Or, if you'd prefer, I can have you arrested for withholding evidence."
"You don't seem interested in anything we're saying," I complained. "We've done a lot of work on this."
"I'm sure you have," the detective replied grimly. "Now, what is it about Astrid Loveday that's got you so worked up?"
Darlene looked about to burst, her red hair clashing with the red flush of her face, so I stepped in.
"Astrid had the motive, the opportunity, and the means to kill Philip. That's what it says on Dragnet is needed to catch a killer. Now, Astrid and Philip had broken up. She desperately wanted him back, to the point of taking up with the band's drummer in order to be close to him."
Stu said, "That fact can be confirmed by Astrid's sister, Penny, whom I interviewed personally in London."
"You have been a busy group," the detective said, smoothing his hand over his crew cut.
I dug in my purse and pulled out the golden triangle- shaped earring. "This belongs to Astrid. We have a photograph of her wearing it. We found the earring in Philip's room—"
"Wait a minute," Detective Finelli interrupted. "How did you get into Philip's hotel room?"
How we got in there isn't important," I said. "What is important is that Astrid was there the day he was murdered. Plus, we've spoken to Peter, Astrid's alibi. He admitted that he lied to cover up for her. He doesn't know where she was when Philip was killed."
Darlene said, "Astrid told me and Bebe that she was in Philip's room. She claims she and Philip reconciled and that they made love. That's her story. I think the earring dropped off when she was in the room killing him."
"Let me have that earring," Detective Finelli commanded. "Why didn't you bring this to me immediately? And I ask you again, what were you doing at a crime scene?"
"I have to try to clear my name any way I can!" Darlene said, her eyes the color of blue flames. "And we didn't bring it to you right away because you scoff at our findings, that's why."
Stu said, "Apparently Astrid is quite a character. According to her own sister, Astrid stalked Philip when they split and finally hooked up with Peter to stay close. Philip allegedly has pictures of Astrid in the buff. She wanted them back, and he wouldn't give them to her. I don't know why she was worried. In England, she's posed for racy pictures that have appeared in several magazines."
"And to top everything off," Darlene said, "Astrid confessed that she lied to the police about Philip seeing a red-haired American stewardess—me—before his flight over to London. Bebe is my witness. Now, Detective Finelli, what have you got to say in light of all our evidence?"
"I'd say you've got a lot of circumstantial evidence here. Not enough to charge Miss Loveday," the detective said.
"What do you want, a taped confession?" Darlene cried.
"Look, I believe Miss Loveday had reason to kill Philip Royal. I believe we can place her at the scene of the crime the day it took place. I'm still waiting for fingerprint evidence to come back from that electric plug."
"Aren't you even going to bring Astrid in for questioning?" I asked.
"Yes, I am. The investigation is ongoing, as I told you at the beginning of this meeting."
"All you have on me is 'circumstantial,' as you call it," Darlene protested.
"But I have you at the crime scene at the time of the singe
r's death, Miss Roland. And I haven't charged you with murder yet."
Darlene put her head in her hands. "So you still won't lift the ban on my flying?"
The detective shook his head. "Not at this time."
"You realize I could lose my job?" Darlene said, looking at him.
"I'd be sorry if that happened. If it turns out you're innocent, I'd be happy to try to make it right for you with the airline."
"When do you expect to have the fingerprints back?" Stu asked.
"Another week maybe. These things take time. Now, if there's nothing else, I need to get back to work," Detective Finelli said, rising from his chair. "Let me warn you all, getting involved in a police investigation is dangerous. I suggest you stop your amateur detective work now, before the killer decides to stop you himself."
"But you'll use the information we've given you," Stu said, holding the detective's gaze.
"Yes, I will."
I walked out of the police station feeling defeated.
"There's a Chock Full o' Nuts," Stu said. "Let's grab a cup of coffee and some of those white doughnuts."
As we sat at the counter a few minutes later, I could tell that Darlene was really down. She barely touched her doughnuts and took only little sips of her coffee.
Stu noticed it too. "Look, doll, police investigations are slow. We've done everything we can to prod this one along."
"You'd think that with Philip being a star of sorts, they'd move their butts a little faster," Darlene complained.
"Nah. That only slows them down. They have to be sure they've got their facts right, and that they've nailed the real killer."
"Speaking of getting her facts right, are we going to go by Patty Gentry's hotel? Because if we are, we need to go soon, so I can get to work," I said.
"That's the spirit, Bebe. Let's keep on rolling," Stu said, with a grin at Darlene. He put a bracing arm around her shoulder, and we left.
Patty Gentry's hotel, the Biltmore, was beautiful but not nearly as luxurious as the Legends. And Stu had said Patty had a penthouse suite.
"What exactly are we going to say to get Miss Gentry to talk to us?" I asked in the elevator.
"Leave that to me," Darlene said. "The main thing is that we get her to tell us who she thinks the murderer is and why. Remember in her article she said she thought she knew who he or she was. We want whatever evidence she has. It might be enough to convince Detective Finelli of my innocence."
It's A Mod, Mod, Mod, Mod Murder Page 16