Done to Death

by Charles Atkins

  ‘We’ll take it somewhere else,’ Melanie said, having overheard the entire conversation. ‘It’s a fabulous concept. And thank God Rachel signed the paperwork before she did her vanishing act. Not to be morbid – well, maybe a bit – but can you imagine if she’s dead? Think of the ratings. No way they won’t run this. We’ll place an “in memory of” screen for three seconds at the start or at the end, and we’re good to go.’

  Barry nodded, and watched as Tolliver made his pitch. Rachel was supposed to be in this scene as well. They’d either drop her in from previous footage or find some other work around. ‘We just have to get through today and tomorrow … and how’s that going?’

  ‘Like planning a wedding in one day. It’s insane, but with enough cameras we’ll get what we need. We can use voice-overs and make stuff up, if we have to.’

  ‘Run through it for me,’ he said, rubbing his temples. Somewhere, someone was wearing perfume. He felt the beginnings of a migraine and, rather than wait, retrieved a pill from his jacket and popped it under his tongue.

  ‘We’ve got a couple dozen interns putting signs up all over western Connecticut. You’d love ’em − Lenore Says Come to My Estate Sale. They’re quite groovy and we’ve got ads in the evening and morning editions of the local papers, and The New York Times. Rachel went through all the stuff she wants to get rid of and, let me tell you, there was no love lost between her and her mother.’

  ‘And it’s all legal? She signed everything she had to?’

  ‘Yeah, and if she hadn’t?’

  He smirked. ‘What do you think?’

  ‘Right. The tents arrive later this morning and we’ll work through the night to get them set up. So we’ve got Tolliver and the other two wannabes to film, we’ve got to do the deliberation scene, pick one, get him or her to appraise the goods, tag it, set it out … I need a Valium … maybe some coke. I wonder if Carrie has any more of her son’s Adderall.’

  ‘Just delegate but, you know, don’t trust anyone. This is our shot. If we don’t take it …’

  ‘I know, we won’t have jobs come Monday.’

  ‘We may still not, but if we can pull this off …’

  ‘Who wouldn’t watch it?’

  ‘That one,’ Barry said. He was pointing at Tolliver. ‘He’s the one we need for this.’

  ‘Some eye candy.’

  ‘Yeah. Get some footage of the other two. If they’re any decent tell them we’ll give them spots in future episodes.’

  ‘Of course we will.’ She winked. ‘We’ll be sure to do that.’

  His cell vibrated; it was Jeanine. ‘Hey babe.’

  ‘Hey back. Shooting’s going good?’

  ‘It’s going,’ he said. ‘How’s my best girl and my second best girl?’

  Jeanine chuckled. ‘I’m not going to ask who gets top billing. Ashley, say hello to Daddy.’

  ‘Hi Daddy, will you be home tonight? We’re looking at houses, and with two acres you can have a horse.’

  He heard Jeanine in the back. ‘Honey, don’t scare Daddy.’

  ‘And for every acre and a half extra you can have an extra horse,’ Ashley informed him. ‘Although Mommy says a pony is a good way to start. Am I going to get a pony?’

  It threw Barry back to those wonderful memories of Model Behavior. Jeanine on that stallion, hair flying, limbs free − breathtaking stuff, and why she should have won.

  Jeanine came back on the phone. ‘Yes, apparently both Grenville and Shiloh have laws on the books that go back to the seventeen hundreds. The size of your parcel determines how many horses and various other livestock you can own.’

  In spite of the crazy production schedules and his jangled nerves, he needed this call. ‘You know, I’m not saying no.’

  ‘I’m kidding about the horses,’ she said.

  ‘I’m not. You told me how much you loved to ride as a kid. Wouldn’t that be something, if you could teach Ashley, if you could teach me?’

  ‘Step at a time, baby,’ she said. ‘Somehow I can’t see you mucking out stalls. You do your thing, I’ll do mine. I’m telling the realtor we’ll want a rental property for a year, but that it could change. I heard something strange, though.’

  ‘What’s that?’

  ‘Someone said Rachel Parks is missing, as in maybe dead.’

  ‘The girl’s a nut job,’ Barry said.

  ‘But you need her for the show.’

  ‘Jeanine, I’m going to make this work. Tell that realtor that we’re buying, not renting. If LPP is too stupid to pick up this show, I know half a dozen studios that would jump for this concept.’

  ‘Barry, I can wait. You don’t have to do this for me.’

  ‘Jeanine, I do it all for you, for us. Tell that realtor nothing less than five acres; if I got the math right then we can each have a horse. I’ll get a nag and call her Lenore.’

  She snorted. ‘OK, any other requests?’

  He paused and thought of what he might like in a country home. He laughed. ‘I don’t need to give this a second thought,’ he said.

  ‘Why’s that?’

  ‘Because you’ve never once let me down.’ He thought back through their years together. ‘Not once. You get whatever house you want. Buy us a shack; if you and Ashley are in it that’s all I care about.’

  There was silence on the line.

  ‘You OK?’ he asked.

  ‘I am, and Barry … some day, if I do let you down, you need to know that everything I do is out of love for you and Ashley.’

  ‘That just made me nervous.’

  Her tone lightened. ‘Don’t be. I think you put me on too high a pedestal. It’s bound to crack.’

  ‘Never.’

  After he hung up, he noticed his head was clear; all traces of the gathering migraine were gone. Jeanine’s unconditional love was better than any medicine. He nodded at Melanie, who was supervising the shoot. They’d had Rachel and the dealers select a few choice antiques and pieces of Lenore memorabilia to feature on the show. This included one of her Emmys, which Rachel had teared up over as she’d said, ‘Yes, for the children’s sake, let’s sell it.’ And now she’d gone missing, was possibly dead, and the fucking cops were looking at him as a suspect, as if he had time to go around killing people. Although the day Lenore was shot, he remembered that sense of relief, that he could breathe, that maybe he could pull a rabbit out of his hat. It was a feeling that was repeated when Richard turned up dead. Rachel was another story. Yes, she was a nut job, but if she could be managed her instability made her ratings gold. Lost in a daydream of life as an A-list producer, he didn’t see the two female detectives.

  ‘Mr Stromstein,’ the shorter and older one asked. ‘We realize you’re busy, but we have a few questions we need to run by you; is there someplace private we could go?’

  His anger surged. He wanted to scream, ‘Not fucking again!’ He didn’t. He turned the corners of his lips into a pleasant half smile, a technique he’d learned when attending a meditation seminar. ‘Of course.’ He glanced back at Melanie and Ethan. They had things under control. He paused, noting that one of the other changes since losing Lenore, and then Richard, was that the sense of internal competition in his team was gone. Not even the hangers on who’d descended from LPP, all wanting to attach themselves to Final Reckoning, were vying to take his place. There was something else he saw in their eyes − hope. He took a deep breath and turned to the detectives. The last few days had been punctuated with their questions: ‘Who might want Lenore dead?’

  ‘Everyone.’

  ‘Who would benefit from her death?’

  ‘No one, at least not anyone who’s still breathing. Rachel, maybe, but is she still breathing?’

  He caught the eye of the older one, Mattie something. And it hit him like a brick − he, Barry Stromstein, executive producer of Final Reckoning, was benefiting from the deaths of Lenore and Richard. Oh shit! he thought, realizing that, on this most impossible day, he’d need to find a criminal attorney. I
f these detectives couldn’t find out who killed the bitch and her turkey baster son, they’ll think I did it.

  Mattie hung back in Lenore’s elegant conservatory and let Jamie direct this new line of inquiry. She watched as Barry Stromstein glibly fielded the questions. She felt the sun on her back and neck through the beveled glass. The lush foliage and blooming exotic plants barely registered over the knot in her gut. It was the call from Ada Strauss, and her report of her conversation with Peggy Stark − Lenore’s dresser and on-again, off-again lover – that had sent her mood spiraling. That Peggy was also the one who found Lenore made the information crucial. It bothered her. Mattie was no prude; years in domestic abuse followed by her current position with the state’s major crime squad had exposed her to every shade of human despair and depravity. But this … this was the domain of men. This was what men did to women, not what women did to other women. But it wasn’t just that. She felt haunted … ashamed … confused.

  ‘What do you know of Lenore’s love interests?’ Jamie asked.

  ‘I assume you’re referring to the girls,’ said Barry.

  ‘Yes. How many; who were they?’

  ‘I’m not the best person for this,’ he admitted. ‘We all knew, definitely her masseuse, possibly the Pilates girl; there was always someone. Blonde, pretty and tall, but she’d go for the brunets, too.’

  ‘Would she pay them?’ Jamie asked.

  ‘Not in cash, but a job as a spokesmodel, maybe a spot on a design show, more under the heading of giving a struggling actress, director, writer … a needed boost.’

  ‘Did you sleep with Lenore?’ Jamie asked bluntly.

  ‘No, not her type, not her gender.’

  Mattie braced for what she knew would be the next question. Proud of how far Jamie had developed as an investigator, and somewhat shocked by how tightly their minds worked in sync.

  ‘What about your team?’ Jamie asked. ‘Who on your team has had an affair, or whatever, with Lenore?’

  Mattie saw Barry’s neutral smile waver. They were on to something.

  ‘Mr Stromstein?’ Jamie pressed.

  ‘I couldn’t say.’

  ‘Won’t say,’ said Jamie. ‘Yet, when we find out that you did in fact know, you will be judged to have made the decision to obstruct a homicide investigation at this moment. That could be quite ugly, including accessory to murder. After all, who’s really benefiting from Lenore’s death?’ Her gaze was fixed on him. ‘Be careful here, Mr Stromstein. This is an important decision point. I’ll pretend I did not ask the first time: who on your team has had sex with Lenore Parks?’

  He stared at the ground. He said nothing. The seconds stretched, the silence of the conservatory wrapped them in a cocoon of warm sun and the sweet and earthy smells of potting soil and orchids. ‘Melanie,’ he said, his voice barely audible. ‘My field producer, Melanie Taft, and while I don’t know for certain, I’d say Carrie Melville.’

  ‘So Melanie is a definite and Carrie a possible? What makes her a possible?’

  ‘She’s the only one who didn’t come with me from LA. She was with my predecessor at LPP and Lenore specifically requested that I keep her. When people want those kind of favors, there’s usually a reason.’

  Mattie sensed Jamie’s next question.

  ‘I see. So, field producer; that was your title when we first met three days ago. Melanie was an assistant producer.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘I see. What is your title now, Mr Stromstein?’

  He looked up. ‘Executive producer.’

  ‘What does that mean exactly?’

  ‘It’s just a title, a way of showing the chain of command.’

  ‘And an executive producer would be higher than a field producer, and certainly higher than an assistant producer, correct?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘So it would be safe to say in the last few days, since the death of Lenore, and then of her son, both you and Melanie Taft have received promotions.’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Interesting; and this is while hundreds of LPP employees are being laid off. How did that happen?’

  ‘I insisted on it,’ he said.

  ‘Gutsy move,’ Jamie said. ‘Who approved that?’

  ‘The CFO, Patty … Patricia Corcoran. I didn’t do anything wrong. This show has been all-consuming. I’ve been doing the work of an executive producer, I’ll be damned if I don’t get the credit. And Melanie has more than stepped up to the plate. I couldn’t do this without her. She deserves the credit.’

  ‘And I’m assuming there’s more money involved?’ Jamie asked.

  ‘Yes and no. If the show’s a hit I’ll get a back-end cut and, yes, Melanie will get a raise. I didn’t kill Lenore.’ His face was red. ‘And Melanie’s time has been dedicated to getting this show off the ground. If you knew her, you’d know she’s not the type to hurt anyone.’

  Mattie again felt the workings of Jamie’s mind and braced for the next line of inquiry.

  ‘But she is the type to sleep with the boss,’ Jamie said. ‘From what we’ve learned that was standard LPP practice. Was she still sleeping with Lenore?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘If Lenore asked her to carry her babies, would she do it? You know, be her surrogate?’

  Barry looked startled. ‘What? Of course not.’

  ‘And Carrie?’

  ‘I have no way of knowing that. Lenore was planning on having another child?’

  Jamie stared at him, her expression tight-lipped. She let the silence stretch. ‘… Apparently so. No idea who the surrogate is, Mr Stromstein?’

  Barry stared back. ‘No … no.’

  Jamie looked to Mattie, silently asking if she had any further questions. With twin surges of pride and relief, she realized that Jamie had mined this seam till it was dry, at least for now. She shook her head. ‘I’m good.’

  TWENTY-SEVEN

  ‘Grueling,’ Ada said to Lil, her mother and her grandson, all gathered in their cozy living room. ‘It’s like being back with Harry when we’d do fifteen-hour days preparing for the big sales.’

  ‘You like it, though. I can tell,’ Aaron said, looking between Ada and Lil seated together on the couch.

  Ada smiled and sipped Scotch. ‘I do. There’s a lot of waiting around, and watching.’

  ‘Mattie and Jamie were there,’ Lil commented.

  ‘Yes. I make them nervous,’ Ada said.

  ‘As you should,’ Rose interjected. ‘The two of you will get yourselves killed one of these days, and what am I going to do with two condos?’

  ‘Get a boyfriend,’ Aaron offered.

  ‘Around here?’ Rose shook her head. ‘There’s ten women for every man, and the few there are aren’t much to look at.’

  ‘What about Stan?’ Ada asked.

  ‘Just friends,’ Rose said. ‘I have no interest in taking care of an old man. You two need to be careful.’

  Ada looked to Lil. ‘Anything from your trip to LPP?’

  ‘It’s a ghost town,’ Lil said. ‘Yes, it was a Saturday, but apparently that shouldn’t matter. The same guard was on, that retired cop, George. He was very philosophical, and quite chatty. He was also wondering if you might be up for a date. I let him know you were taken. At which point he asked me out.’

  Ada chuckled. ‘And?’

  ‘I said I was also taken. But here’s something interesting: Lenore had a private elevator that went straight to her suite from the garage. George said there’s no way to tell who she gave pass cards to. Piecing it together I’d say it was to anyone she wanted to get in and out unobserved.’

  ‘Peggy told me the same thing. It raises the likelihood that she was killed by an ex, doesn’t it?’

  ‘It does. But George, who’s seen enough of the comings and goings, thinks this is the end of LPP. He felt Richard might have been able to hold things together, but certainly not Rachel.’

  ‘Who might be dead,’ Aaron added.

  ‘Or might n
ot,’ Ada offered. ‘With her history of the big fake-out, this might well be a grab for attention. Although that doesn’t sit right.’

  Lil nodded. ‘I still think it’s a question of “what would Lenore do?”’

  ‘You might be right.’

  ‘Aaron and I have been on and off the Internet all day,’ Lil said. ‘Rachel’s disappearance is big news. And this estate sale is getting a ton of press.’

  ‘I know,’ Ada said. ‘When we’d finished shooting and they were driving me home, there were cars lining the road to Lenore’s. People are planning on sleeping over so they can be the first in.’

  ‘It’s all over the TV,’ Rose said. ‘There’ll be riots if they’re not careful.’

  ‘Supposedly,’ Ada said, ‘the plan is to let in only a hundred people at a time. They’ll start handing out tickets at eight a.m.’

  ‘That’s standard estate sale etiquette,’ Lil said. ‘What’s for sale?’

  ‘It’s all staged, and according to Melanie most of it was selected by Rachel, but some of it is in very bad taste.’

  ‘Such as?’ Aaron asked.

  ‘Personal photos, clothes, underwear.’

  ‘You’re kidding,’ Rose said.

  ‘No,’ Ada said, ‘things still in packages, but the idea of selling Lenore Parks’ panties − crass. And then there’s some good antiques. Rachel wanted … wants to redecorate the mansion completely. I can’t help but think about that poor girl. If she’s doing this as a stunt, then fine, I guess. But if something’s happened to her … She’s pregnant and fragile, at least I think so, though lord knows I’ve been fooled before.’

  ‘And Tolliver won the expert slot for the week,’ Lil commented.

  ‘I wouldn’t exactly call it a win. He was the most photogenic, and they’ve replaced his staff with extras from central casting, all young, all pretty. It’s both fascinating and grotesque.’

  ‘There will be some disgruntled employees at Grenville Antiques,’ Lil said.

  ‘To put it mildly,’ Ada replied. ‘And to add insult to injury, Tolliver is insisting his entire staff of appraisers be on hand for the shooting to feed lines to the talent.’