Murder

by Jackie Collins

  Last night Freddie had known he had to get out of the house. He had no desire to lie in bed beside Diana, listening to her nag about how he had ruined her dinner party.

  Through the noise of the shower he heard the phone ring, and to his annoyance no one picked up. He stepped out of the shower and answered it himself. It was Ria. “Yes?” he snapped, wondering why his secretary was bothering him on a Sunday.

  “Mr. Leon,” Ria said. “Are you aware there’s a woman from Manhattan Style magazine in town? She’s been sent out here from New York to write a piece on you. In fact, she fully expects you to grant her an interview.”

  “Excuse me?” Freddie said irritably.

  “Madison Castelli. She’s here to conduct an exclusive interview with you.”

  “Why me?” Freddie said, frowning.

  “You’re very high profile, Mr. Leon.” As if she had to explain it to him. Freddie Leon knew exactly how important and powerful he was. “So I’m to presume you don’t know anything about this?”

  “No, I don’t,” he said, annoyed she’d seen fit to disturb him at home. “How do you know?”

  “Ms. Castelli called me herself.”

  “Where did she get your number?”

  “I didn’t ask. I merely informed her you would not be interested.”

  “Right. She’ll get no cooperation from me, so if she’s smart she’d better quit now.”

  “With all due respect, Mr. Leon, you cannot tell the press what they can and can’t do.”

  “I can tell them what I like,” Freddie snapped and put the phone down. “Diana,” he yelled. “Diana!” There was no response, so wrapping a towel around his waist, he walked from his bathroom into the bedroom. Then he remembered; Diana had gone out. “Damn!” he mumbled under his breath. He hated it when his wife exhibited attitude and wasn’t around to attend to his needs. He sat on the edge of the bed and decided to give Ariel Shore a call.

  When Ariel came to the phone she was suitably cool, which annoyed him even more. He had a good relationship with Ariel and did not want anything spoiling it.

  “I guess we’re the last to know,” Ariel said, her tone icy.

  “What do you mean?” Freddie asked.

  “Didn’t you see the LA. Times this morning?”

  “I haven’t read the papers yet.”

  “Take a look. Your partner made an announcement, or somebody made an announcement for him.”

  “How could that happen?”

  “Exactly, Freddie,” Ariel said triumphantly, as if she’d caught him cheating at cards. “How could it happen without either of us knowing about it? We’re supposed to be Hollywood insiders. We’re supposed to know everything weeks before anything takes place.”

  “Ariel, I—”

  “Anyway,” she rudely interrupted. “I went to see Billy this morning.”

  “You did?”

  “I thought it was time I settled this nonsense.”

  “What happened?”

  “I told Billy he could not hire anyone without asking me. And if you’re as clever as I know you are, when Max comes crawling back, you’ll immediately terminate your partnership.”

  “You don’t have to tell me what to do, Ariel,” Freddie said, pissed that she would even try. “That was already my plan.”

  “Good, because my studio does not care to conduct business with anyone who has anything at all to do with Max Steele.”

  “Point taken, Ariel,” Freddie said. And as far as he was concerned, that was the end of Max Steele.

  chapter 7

  MADISON HAD FINISHED writing her piece on Salli T. Turner. She didn’t consider it up to her usual standard, but she knew that she was too emotionally involved to be able to do any better. She faxed a copy of the article to Victor in New York, then immediately wished she hadn’t. Victor responded quickly. He phoned and told her it was good.

  “Not good enough,” she answered, an expert at putting herself down. “Do I have time to do a rewrite?”

  “No,” Victor said firmly. “The piece is excellent. Stop being so critical.”

  When Cole returned from his hike, he suggested to Madison that he take her out for lunch. “We’ll grab a Neil McCarthy salad at the Beverly Hills Hotel,” he said persuasively.

  “I don’t know,” she demurred, feeling guilty at the thought of going out to lunch while Salli lay brutally murdered. “I’m not in the mood.”

  “C’mon,” Cole urged. “It’d make me feel better to get out. An’ if Natalie’s around, I’ll even take her.”

  She stood up and stretched. “Natalie’s having lunch with Luther.”

  “Who’s Luther?”

  “An ex-football player she met at Jimmy’s house last night.”

  “Straight?”

  “Of course.”

  Cole grinned. “Shame!”

  Madison couldn’t help laughing. “Okay,” she said, deciding it might be good to get out after all. “We’re on for lunch. You talked me into it.”

  “Didn’t have to do much talkin’,” Cole said with a friendly wink.

  • • •

  “So what did you do?” Jimmy Sica asked his brother, who had just gotten through telling him what had happened between him and Kristin the night before.

  “I left,” Jake said. “What would you have done under those circumstances?”

  “Jesus!” Jimmy said, shaking his head. “It would’ve shocked the crap outta me. And she seemed so … gorgeous.”

  “She was gorgeous all right,” Jake said grimly. “Five-thousand-a-night gorgeous.”

  They were standing in the middle of their father’s bungalow at the Beverly Hills Hotel, waiting for him to emerge from the bedroom so they could escort him to his wedding ceremony, which was to take place in the lavish gardens.

  “What a scam!” Jimmy exclaimed. “D’you think she was planning on charging you?”

  “Of course not,” Jake said sharply, already regretting telling his brother. “We had a good thing going.”

  “So you think if the phone deal hadn’t happened, you wouldn’t have found out?”

  “That’s exactly right.”

  “Did you use a—”

  “Nope.”

  “Well, buddy, you had better get yourself tested pronto.”

  “I plan to.”

  Jimmy flopped down on the couch, legs splayed. “There’s no way you could’ve known. The hookers in L.A. are the best-looking broads in town.”

  “How would you know?”

  “I get around, little bro.”

  Jake couldn’t stop pacing up and down. “She seemed like such a sweetheart,” he said. “Innocent … clean-cut…”

  “Where exactly did you meet her?”

  “In the men’s department at Neiman Marcus.”

  “Ha!” Jimmy exclaimed. “That should’ve given you a clue. What was she doing there?”

  “Sitting at the martini bar. I picked her up, it wasn’t as if she was coming on to me.”

  “That’s what you thought,” Jimmy muttered darkly.

  “D’you think I overreacted?” Jake asked.

  “Are you shitting me?” Jimmy said, making a face. “She’s a hooker for crissake.”

  “I hope you’re not speaking about my future bride,” their father, Cosmos, said, emerging from the bedroom clad in a John Travolta Saturday Night Fever three-piece white suit and a screamingly bright red tie. He was a handsome man, but at least sixty pounds overweight, which caused his three-piece suit to bulge in all the wrong places.

  “No way, Dad,” Jimmy said, attempting to conceal his amusement at his father’s outrageous outfit.

  Cosmos Sica was sixty-two years old with a shock of silver hair, matching moustache and a wily grin. The woman he was about to marry was a twenty-year-old manicurist from San Diego who was to be his fourth wife. Jimmy and Jake were used to their high-living dad, and as far as they were concerned, the old guy could do what he liked—and typically he did. Cosmos was smart enough
in business that it was okay for him to be stupid about women. And if he could afford them, why not?

  “You look good, Dad,” Jake lied, knowing his father craved compliments.

  “An’ you don’t look so bad yourself, son,” Cosmos said, admiring himself in a wall mirror. “Isn’t it about time you found yourself a regular girl?”

  “He did,” Jimmy said with a slight smirk.

  “Good,” Cosmos said loudly. “It’s not healthy for a man to be by himself. You need a warm body to snuggle up with at night.”

  “She’s not exactly someone I’m planning on spending the rest of my life with,” Jake said, throwing Jimmy a warning look.

  “Shall I tell him?” Jimmy said, starting to laugh.

  “No way,” Jake objected.

  “Tell me what?” Cosmos asked, brushing the edge of his moustache with his fingers. “This is my wedding day—you can tell me anything.”

  “He fell in love with a hooker,” Jimmy announced, unable to stop himself.

  “He did what?” Cosmos yelled.

  “He thought she was a nice girl,” Jimmy said. “It turned out she was a nice girl all right—the kinda nice girl you pay.”

  Cosmos roared with hearty laughter. “Nothing wrong with a pretty girl making an honest living. That’s what I say.”

  Jake glared at his brother. “Quit making my business public knowledge.”

  “I’m your father, for crissake,” Cosmos boomed. “What’s with the public knowledge? You know you can trust me; it’ll go no further.”

  Sure, Jake thought glumly, knowing Dad, everyone will be in on the joke by the end of the wedding. Damn Jimmy and his big mouth.

  Jimmy hauled himself off the couch. “We ready?” he said.

  Cosmos nodded vigorously. “You bet!” he said, almost popping a button on his vest. “Fourth time lucky, huh? Come on, boys, I’m impatient to get to my wedding night!”

  • • •

  In spite of a huge and expensive face-lift there was something about the lobby of the Beverly Hills Hotel that screamed old Hollywood. “I keep on expecting to bump into Clark Gable or Lana Turner,” Madison joked, glancing around.

  “I know what you mean,” Cole said. “This place has history.”

  “It sure does,” she agreed.

  “C’mon,” he said, taking her arm. “We’re eating on the terrace of the Polo Lounge. You ever had a Neil McCarthy salad?”

  “Sounds vaguely communistic.”

  “The best chopped salad you’ll ever have.”

  “You’re so knowledgeable,” she teased. “And to think—Natalie and I were both under the impression you’d end up being a gang member.”

  “Right,” Cole drawled. “Instead, I’m a politically incorrect gay guy who knows everyone’s secrets.”

  “You do?”

  “I sure do.”

  “Are there any more secrets about Salli?”

  “Maybe,” he said mysteriously.

  Madison let it drop; she knew when to push and when not to. “So, Cole,” she said lightly. “What’s your love life like? You seeing anyone special?”

  “Haven’t gotten that lucky—yet,” he said ruefully. “So I keep playing the field. ’Course it drives Natalie insane. She’s convinced I’ll get AIDS and then she’ll have to look after me. And you know how that would piss her off.”

  “She’s always adored you, Cole. When we were at college together she was always talking about you and worrying that you were okay.”

  “Yeah,” he laughed. “I know, I know. She sure loves her baby brother.”

  “How did she take it when you told her you were gay?”

  “Y’know, she was kinda cool. It was my parents who freaked. An’ it was Nat who talked ’em around.”

  As they continued walking through the lobby, Madison spotted two vaguely familiar faces coming toward her. She thought about taking evasive action, but it was too late. Jimmy Sica had seen her.

  “Madison!” he said, flashing his perfect anchorman smile. “What are you doing here?”

  “I could ask you the same question.”

  “It’s our dad’s wedding,” Jimmy explained, gesturing toward Cosmos. “Allow me to introduce you to the man himself. We’re on our way to his execution—fourth one.”

  Cosmos took her hand, squeezing it tightly. “Delighted to meet such a lovely woman,” he said, oozing charm before turning to Jake and inquiring sotto voce, “Is this the young lady you were telling us about?”

  “No,” Jake said quickly. “Madison’s a journalist from New York.”

  “I love it when I get billing,” Madison said, with a nod in his direction. “Do you all know Cole, Natalie’s brother?”

  “So you’re the famous fitness guru,” Jimmy said, shaking Cole’s hand. “Natalie keeps on telling me you’re the best in town.”

  “The best what?” Cole said, grinning cheekily.

  “The best guy to get my pathetic abs in shape,” Jimmy said, grinning back.

  “I can do that,” Cole said.

  “Stop flirting,” Madison scolded. “They’re both straight, or at least I think they are.” Her eyes met Jake’s. “How was your date last night?”

  “Casual,” he answered. “Nothing serious.”

  “Why don’t you two drop by the wedding?” Jimmy suggested.

  “We’re on our way to lunch,” Madison explained. “Besides, we’re not exactly dressed for a wedding.”

  “You look great to me,” Jake said.

  Jimmy’s attention was taken by a woman in a blue jogging outfit who wanted his autograph. He loved being recognized, especially in front of his father, who was duly impressed.

  “Hey, I’m sorry last night kind of, uh … ended abruptly,” Jake said.

  “That’s all right,” Madison answered, thinking that her first impression from last night had not been wrong; he was very attractive in a sexy, laid-back way. “It was abrupt for all of us.”

  “Bad news about Salli. You knew her, didn’t you?”

  “Yes, it’s so sad. She was a sweet person. You might not realize it from her public image, but she was.”

  “You wouldn’t be free for dinner tonight, would you?” Jake asked impulsively.

  “Uh …” She tried to think of an excuse, but none came to mind.

  “She’s free,” Cole said, answering for her.

  “Well, yes, I guess I am,” she said, shooting Cole a “mind-your-own-business” look.

  “Pick you up at seven?” Jake said.

  “Let’s go,” Cosmos boomed. “I got a wedding to attend. An’ a bride to make happy!”

  “Lots of luck, Mr. Sica,” Madison said.

  “It’s not luck I need, pretty lady,” Cosmos said, roaring with laughter again. “It’s stamina. An’ plenty of it!”

  The three of them walked off.

  “That’s you settled for tonight,” Cole said, pleased with himself for interfering.

  “What made you think I wanted to go out with him?” she asked irritably.

  “He seems like a cool dude—go for it.”

  “What?”

  “Hey—if I can’t have him, why shouldn’t you?”

  “Cole,” she said sternly. “You railroaded me into that.”

  “No way.”

  “You did,” she said accusingly. “I’m not sure he even wanted to ask me out.”

  “Then how come he did?”

  “Oh, God! How do I know?”

  “Maddy,” Cole interrupted. “You are totally fine. So go—have yourself a good time, an’ stop worryin’.”

  “Now you sound like Natalie.”

  He arched an amused eyebrow. “Somethin’ wrong with that?”

  She took his arm. “Okay, matchmaker, let’s go get lunch. I’m starving!”

  chapter 8

  AT EXACTLY NOON KRISTIN picked up the phone and called Max.

  He answered immediately. “Perfect timing,” he said, sounding excessively cheery. “You’re an engage
d woman.”

  “Excuse me?” she said, wondering what he was up to now.

  “Don’t worry,” he said. “It’s a paying job. You’ll be my fiancée for a while. What do you think of that?9’

  “I think you’re crazy, Max,” she said with a sigh. “But then that’s nothing new.”

  “Don’t you like my idea?”

  “I’ll repeat what I just said. You’re crazy.”

  “Can you come over?”

  She’d never been to his house, and yet, if he wanted her to move in, she certainly had to check it out. “Where do you live?”

  “I’ll give you the address. Be here in an hour.”

  “I can’t do that,” she said quickly. “I have somewhere to go first. I could be there around four.”

  “Where are you going?”

  “We haven’t done the deal yet, Max,” she said sharply. “So don’t question me.”

  “Okay, okay,” he answered, soothing her with his voice. “But, honey, believe me—this is gonna be a cool situation.”

  She was resigned to her fate—whatever it might be. “If you say so.”

  “I know so,” he assured her, and then he gave her his address in Bel Air. She replaced the receiver and sighed deeply, wondering if she was making the right move. What did she really know about Max Steele? He was just another client, that’s all. Why was she even considering such a radical move?

  All she could think about was Jake. They’d had such a strong connection, or so she’d thought. And then her stupid answering machine and Darlene’s message had ruined everything.

  She had known she would get screwed by Mister X, one way or another.

  She went to her closet and picked out the simplest clothes she possessed. Then she pulled her long blond hair back into a ponytail and did not bother putting on makeup.

  It was time to visit her sister.

  • • •

  The drive to the nursing home took about an hour. Kristin liked to play books on tape, usually biographies; it gave her something to talk about with clients who were into conversation. Right now she was listening to Robert Evans’ The Kid Stays in the Picture. He had led a fascinating life—businessman, movie star, head of a studio, grand producer in the great Hollywood tradition. Recently she read that he’d had a stroke and then a few weeks later had gotten married for the fourth time. Then had that marriage annulled! Hollywood survivors—they were a breed unto themselves!