by Don Potter
“This can’t be. You’re telling me that this man, the one who was drunk and drove off after killing my innocent son, is going to get away with murder.”
“Without concrete evidence, something we hadn’t seen before, I’m afraid we don’t have much of a case,” the Assistant DA said. “And, under the circumstances, the most fruitful course for you to pursue will be to seek relief for pain and suffering.”
“There’s no relief for the pain and suffering this Hollywood playboy has put me through.”
“I mean relief in a financial way, through the courts.”
“Money won’t bring back my Robby. And how can I possibly have faith in the courts when I can’t even get the criminal case in front of a judge and jury?”
“Justice is not always perfect. The system has flaws, but it’s the best in the world.”
“Except when it let’s you down. I’m done with this. Make whatever deals you have to do to keep your job, but I’m not going to be part of this travesty of justice. Guess I’ll just have to pick up where you left off.”
“Please, Ms. Kingman, don’t even think about being a vigilante.”
Laurie pushed her chair back and put on her coat. She opened the office door and turned to make a final comment. “Vigilante. Now that’s sounds like a good idea.”
“It’s been three months since the Jarrod James case ended,” Joan said. “Don’t you think it’s time to get the wrongful death suit started?”
“Thanks for the advice, but I don’t want to go through all that legal mumbo-jumbo again. And, this time, I would have to face Robby’s killer in court. That would bring back too many bad memories.”
“What are you going to do? There’s money coming to you.”
“James’s attorney has been in touch. He wants to make an out-of-court offer.”
“No matter what it is with the right lawyer and the right jury, you’ll do better in court.”
“We’ll see.” What Laurie did not tell her sister was that she kept the detective on retainer and was developing a plan to take care of the narcissistic Jarrod James and his slimy attorney in her time and on her terms.
“Yes, Laurie, I have detailed records of the daily activities of the person of interest.” Howard Walker did not want to mention the name over the phone, but he and Laurie knew who the person of interest was.
“When can I get the information?”
“Let’s meet away from my office. How about Musso and Frank on Hollywood Boulevard at 11:45, today?”
“That works for me. The restaurant is just east of Highland, right? I’ll be in workout clothes, okay?”
“This is Hollywood. Most anything goes. And yes the location is on the north side of the street between Las Palmas and Cherokee. Park in back. They validate.”
Laurie arrived a little early. She parked the car and came down the back stairs, then walked past the rows of empty tables all the way to the front, and was promptly ushered to a side booth by the older gentleman who had been standing at the podium. After leaving the menu, he gave her the onceover as if to say, “Just what are you doing here?”
A few minutes later the detective arrived.
“Quite a place,” he said gesturing to the shabby-chic dining room with a counter off to the far side. You been here before?”
“No. I’ve walked past it though.” She felt this was a dumb answer to a simple question. Lately, her thinking seemed labored; Laurie made up for this by diving harder into her exercise regimen. This resulted in a more fit body but her mind did not respond in a like manner.
“Well, Musso and Frank dates back to 1919. It’s Hollywood’s oldest restaurant. For over ninety years they’ve been serving the perfect martini. Could I interest you in one?”
“No thanks. I’m in training.”
“For what? The marathon? If you’re looking for carbs, this place has the best macaroni and cheese you ever tasted. Sounds like kid food but theirs is a very sophisticated dish.”
“Do you handle the promotion for this place in trade for free lunches?”
“Sorry. I’ve been coming here for years. Obviously I’m a big fan. They have a lengthy menu, and everything’s good. Maybe the shrimp Louie. Mind if I have a cocktail?”
“Whatever you like.”
An aging waiter dressed in old-style garb - black pants, white shirt, black tie and red waistcoat with black lapels – came to the table, pad in hand. The man did not smile nor did he display a positive table-side manner. It was as if the customer should be grateful that he took the time to wait on them. This interaction or lack of it surprised Laurie, since the waiter apparently recognized Howard as a regular patron.
As a native of Des Moines, Iowa who moved to LA with her older sister fifteen years ago, Laurie did not understand the games played in Tinsel Town. Everyone trying to get a leg up on the other person was the rule rather the exception. The never-ending push for power, any advantage, was both boring and tiring to those not interested in clawing their way to the top of the heap.
“I’ll have a martini, straight up with two olives. For an entrée, give me the liver and onions and a side of mac and cheese.” Howard said. He felt compelled to order the side dish after promoting it so hard.
“The grilled salmon, please. And an iced tea.”
“Here’s the report,” the detective said once the waiter retreated.
Laurie studied the material while Howard buttered a piece of warm sour dough bread that was just dropped off at the table. She made notes and was ready to discuss her thoughts by the time the drinks arrived and were positioned in front of each of them on the stark-white tablecloth. He took a sip of the martini while she squeezed the gauze-wrapped lemon in preparation to drink the iced tea.
“I don’t see a consistent pattern here,” Laurie said going back to the report.
“His activities outside the house are random it seems. However, what he does inside displays real continuity. When James is not shooting, his personal trainer goes to the house at 10 AM everyday except Sunday. He has breakfast after an hour workout and eats dinner at 6 PM if he’s there. Otherwise, you’re right. His away-from-home schedule is as hap-hazard as he is.”
“No drinking around?”
“Not any more. If he takes a drink it’s behind closed doors.”
“I figured he’d keep a low profile until after the unlawful death suit is settled,” Laurie added.
“There’s one event he’ll be attending: The Academy Awards,” the detective said. “He received an unexpected nomination for that little picture he finished just before the accident. The industry people circled the wagons when he began getting negative press. Guess they thought this kind of thing could happen to them. Their support made him a hero. So, Jarrod James is considered a kind of comeback kid.”
“That’s good to know.” Laurie jotted a note on her pad as lunch arrived.
Laurie paid the check, which the detective allowed her to do without hesitation. She gathered her things and said, “On awards night, I want you to follow James and keep me informed of his every move.”
“Why? What’s your plan? Do you want me to do anything in the meantime; it’s more than a month away?”
“If I need you before then, I’ll call. But I will be talking to the lawyer you hooked me up with about the wrongful death suit. You’ve been helpful. Thanks. And by the way, the food is good here but a bit pricey.”
“That’s all he offered?” Laurie was brought to tears.
“Yes, two hundred thousand. I think I can get a little more. Two hundred and fifty thousand dollars provided you sign a non-disclosure. You know no interviews with the media, that kind of thing,” the attorney said.
“So Robby’s life is worth only two maybe two hundred and fifty thousand dollars to Mr. Millionaire Movie Star. And your fee comes off the top.”
“I told you we could sue for wrongful death and maybe get a settlement in the millions.”
“And if we lose I don’t even get my out-of-
pocket expenses covered. Plus I’ll have to go through the agony of Robby’s death all over again and be pestered and hounded by reporters and photographers wherever I go for months to come. No way.”
“Does that mean you want to accept the offer?”
“Do it today before I change my mind.” Laurie slammed down the phone.
Minutes later the attorney called back.
“They’re willing to go to two hundred and twenty-five. What do you say?”
“Take it. I’ll sign the papers, and this phase of the ordeal comes to a close.”
“Actually, the entire case comes to a close. This is the end,” the attorney said, pleased with the fast money he made.
“We’ll see.”
The month had not been good to Laurie. She received the cashier’s check for the settlement, paid the attorney and had a new Will prepared in which everything was left to her sister, Joan.
During this time, Laurie made several purchases at a spy store, including some sophisticated listening devices designed to pick up cell phone conversations at close range. The money she now had allowed her to stop training others and concentrate on the comings and goings of James and his attorney.
“I just spotted our man,” Howard Walker said. “I knew he would be showing up to prepare himself for Oscar night.”
“Where are you?” Laurie asked.
“Looks like he’s going to have lunch at the Daily Grill, upstairs at the Kodak complex.”
“So he’ll be there for a while?”
“Especially if he’s had a couple of drinks.”
“Good. Keep an eye on him and let me know if he goes on the move. I’ll be there in a half-hour, maybe less.”
“You’re not going to do anything rash, are you?”
“Come on Howard. All I want is a chance to talk to him, eyeball to eyeball. Not having a trial deprived me of this. This might provide the closure I need in order to find some semblance of peace.”
“I understand, just wouldn’t want to see you get in trouble by confronting him. I know it’s tough, but you have to find a way to let go.”
“That’s what I’m trying to do.”
Twenty-five minutes later, Laurie met Howard in the plaza outside the restaurant.
“Is our Mr. James still in there?” she asked.
“No change in the situation.”
“Then it’s time for me to make my move?”
“What move?”
“I’m going inside and have a little talk with him?”
“As I said, it could cause a problem.”
“Only if he’s too cowardly to talk to me. Want to come in our wait outside?”
Laurie charged into the restaurant, but Howard lagged behind and stood near the front door.
“Mr. James,” Laurie said as she stopped in front of the table where JJ and two other people were just finishing lunch. “I have a few things to say to you and I’d like to hear what you have to say about the death of my son, Robby.”
One of the men started to get up as if he was going to try and physically remove the intruder from the premises. JJ put his hand out and stopped him before whispering something to the man.
“Go ahead and say what you have to say, but hurry it up I have an important meeting with my agent.”
“Since you murdered my son, I can see why you want to get out of here as fast as you can. You’re a big star Mr. James, but you’re a very small person when it comes to compassion. Never did you offer an apology for ending my son’s life the way you did. Nor did you offer simple condolences for my personal loss. Why?”
“It’s quite simple. My attorney said not to speak to you while there was a possibility of a court trial. Now that you accepted the financial settlement, there’s no reason to open up old wounds.”
“Did you ever stop to think my wounds never closed?”
“Frankly, no.”
“How can you call yourself a human being?”
“I never said I was a human being, I’m an actor. Don’t think I didn’t enjoy our little chat, because I didn’t. Got to run. If you have more questions, contact my attorney. I believe you have his phone number. I must excuse myself.”
The star rose and started toward the door. One of his companions stayed behind to make sure Laurie did not follow. As JJ walked past the bar area, a couple of fans came up to him and he signed their menus to their great delight. Laurie stood in her spot, almost frozen.
“He’s not going to get away with it,” she told Howard who came to Laurie and led her out of the restaurant. It was at that moment Laurie’s plan of action became clear to her. She would purchase a gun and learn to use it. Then she would see that justice is served for the murder Jarrod James and the heartless Ray Seymour who helped him escaped prosecution.
“Okay. I’m stationed in an office building at Hollywood and Highland. I can see the Kodak Theater from the window,” Howard Walker said. “Good thing I have friends in this part of town. You can’t imagine what people would pay for this bird’s eye view of the red carpet area.”
“Did James get there yet?”
“No but my guy up by his house called to say JJ is on his way.”
“Is he driving his own car?”
“Yes, and he’s alone.”
“Which car?”
“The Bentley convertible.”
“Good. Tell me when he get’s there.”
“Do you mind telling me what’s going on?”
“In due time, Howard. In due time.”
“Call me when he arrives.” She flipped off the cell phone, leaned back in the driver’s seat of her Toyota Camry and popped an anti-depressant into her mouth. Laurie didn’t know whether she needed the pill but took it just in case the dark feeling became darker. She wanted nothing to prevent her from the task she had to do tonight.
“Joan. It’s me Laurie.”
“Where are you? I’ve been leaving messages on your machine for days. On your cell too.”
“I haven’t been feeling well. So I used the time to think. It all came together and I know what I must do.”
“That sounds ominous. Are you sure you’re all right?”
“I just wanted to call and say ‘I love you’ and thanks for everything you’ve done. That goes for all my life and particularly since Robby was killed. I couldn’t have made it this far without you.”
“You’re not thinking of doing something stupid are you?”
“Don’t be silly. I know what I’m doing.”
“Then why won’t you tell me where you are?”
“I’m in my car driving to a friend’s place to watch the Academy Awards on television.”
“What friend? Why don’t you come over here instead?”
“Always the concerned big sister. I’m fine. So just enjoy the show at home and I’ll have a good evening as well. Can you do that?”
“I guess. But...”
“Don’t worry everything is going to be just fine. I promise. Bye, Sis.”
“He’s here. Got a model on his arm. She’s drop dead gorgeous.”
“Howard, I don’t care about her. Please hold your commentary to him. Call me the moment he comes out of there. I’m sure he’s going to a party.”
Laurie knew this was the first time Jarrod James had made a social appearance in months. It was also the first time the star was in a position to take a drink, without fear of the consequences, since the settlement took place.
Through her spying device, she had heard James tell his attorney that he was going to celebrate on Oscar night whether I win the award or not. Laurie also learned that Ray Seymour hated Hollywood events and planned to stay home alone that night, although he did promise to watch in case JJ won.
“I got word he’s headed to an after-party at Spago in Beverly Hills. Guess our boy is happy to be out and about, Oscar or no Oscar. Nobody really thought he had a chance except for him. What do you want me to do?” Howard asked.
“Stay with him. The moment he leaves t
he restaurant, call me.”
Laurie turned the car around and headed to Woodrow Wilson Drive, off of Mulholland. She parked down the street from Ray Seymour’s home, went through the gate that was always unlocked and walked to the sliding door in the back. It was open slightly to allow the smoke from the attorney’s ever-present cigar to drift out of the house. She saw the man sitting alone in the entertainment room sipping a drink, cigar in hand.
In an instant she opened the door, moved quickly across the floor and fired four shots from the weapon that was wrapped in a towel to reduce the noise. The arrangement of the bullets was perfect. Ray Seymour was probably dead before his glass hit the floor and shattered, leaving a pool of scotch next to where the pool of blood was gathering.
Laurie immediately retraced her steps and soon was on Laurel Canyon driving in the direction of West Hollywood. At the bottom of the hill, she stopped at a storm drain and disposed of both the gun and the towel. Just after turning onto Sunset, her cell phone rang.
“Okay, he came out and the model from earlier is still with him. She looks tipsy.”
“How about him?”
“Looks like he had a couple too. They’re all over each other. If the car doesn’t get here soon, they’ll be doing it on the valet stand.”
“Follow them but not too close. Let me know the route they’re taking.”
“I’d say he’ll be taking the shortcut up to his place. And he’ll be moving pretty fast. No way JJ wants this bimbo to pass out on him before getting her into the sack.”
Laurie drove to the location where Robby’s was killed. All the while, Howard was on the phone. She left the car and walked down the street.
“Where are you?” he asked.
“Tell me about James,” she demanded while ignoring the detective’s questions.
“He’s on his way up the back road to his house. I’m two blocks behind him. His driving is erratic.”
Laurie was at the exact spot of the accident when she saw the lights of the Bentley speeding up the street.
“Howard, I’m crossing the street. A car is coming right at me. I’m dead.”
The stillness of the night was interrupted by the sound of a horn and the squeal of tires as the car crashed into Laurie’s body. The Bentley convertible skidded to a stop. Howard Walker heard the entire incident through his cell phone.