by M. Z. Kelly
What he’d said was contrary to what Zig Steinberg had told us, other than him saying Scarlett wasn’t happy with the script. “Anyone, in particular, you’ve heard that was causing the conflict?”
Stern shrugged. “You might start with her co-star.”
“Dallas Wakefield.”
He nodded. “He’s a first rate jerk. Rumor has it he wasn’t happy with Scarlett’s complaints about the film.”
We spent another half hour with Stern before heading to our car. I called Molly as Ted started the engine. She said she was still trying to locate Scarlett’s friend, Lauren Hayden, but it took her less than a minute to give us an address for Pearce Landon.
I gave Ted his address and said, “Let’s go see a Hollywood fixer.”
Ted put his own phone down after apparently reading a text message. “It will have to wait.” He started the car and sighed. “Just got a message from Selfie. Belmont and Hardy are headed over to talk to Scarlett’s father. I don’t want Conrad saying we missed something. Let’s try and head them off.”
TWENTY SEVEN
We had just set down with Mark Dorsey in his office at Biogent when the ruddy little executive got a call from his secretary. He ended the call and said to Ted and me, “A couple of your co-workers are also here.” He found a thin smile. “I guess I’m popular today.”
Ted and I did a stare down with Belmont and Hardy after they arrived, made introductions, and took seats on a sofa across from us.
“My colleagues are just here to listen,” Ted explained, smiling at Belmont and Hardy before looking back at Dorsey. “Detective Sexton and I will handle the questions.”
After expressing our condolences over Scarlett’s death, Ted asked when Dorsey had last seen his daughter.
“I’m afraid it’s been a few years.” His voice was a monotone, his face expressionless. “Scarlett and I had grown apart.”
“Do you know if she was involved with anyone, maybe someone who was causing her problems?”
He shook his head. His features seemed frozen in place. “The last I heard there was a man named Tom Sterling. I think he was an actor. But that was years ago.” He shrugged. “As far as problems, I couldn’t really say.”
“What about her other friends, actors, acquaintances, anyone you can think of who might have had difficulties with Scarlett?”
“Sorry, not really.”
“Tell us about your daughter’s relationship with Madison Landon,” Christine Belmont said to Dorsey in her deep voice, interrupting us.
I looked at her and then at Hardy who I thought was smirking. I couldn’t be sure because of his bushy moustache.
“Madison and Scarlett grew up together,” Mark Dorsey said, tapping a pencil on his desk. He didn’t look at Belmont as he added, “I’m not sure if they were still close.”
“Who are we talking about?” I said, trying to piece together what was being said.
“Pearce Landon’s daughter,” Hardy said, his smirk now apparent.
“Besties from childhood,” Belmont added. “I just assumed you knew.”
I looked at Ted, my brows pinching together. My partner also seemed clueless but took up the conversation, asking Dorsey, “When did you last see Madison with Scarlett?”
“Oh, it’s probably…” Dorsey scratched at the thin gray hair on his head. “I want to say at least five years, as far as I know.”
“How did Scarlett and Madison come to know one another?” Belmont asked, interrupting Ted.
“Her father, Pearce, and I, were friends. The girls got along well when they were younger and continued to see one another off and on through the years.”
“How did you meet Pearce Landon?” I asked before Belmont could interrupt again.
“We went to college together, shared some classes. We stayed close over the years because of the girls.”
“When did you last see Pearce Landon?”
Dorsey hesitated, did another head scratch. “Oh, well…I guess it’s been a while. I’m not really sure.”
“How long is a while?”
There was a shrug, some fiddling with the cuffs of his shirt before he said, “Probably three or four years.”
I had the impression that Dorsey wasn’t being truthful but after another twenty minutes of going at him, we left the office with nothing more.
When we were in the hallway Alex Hardy said, “Christine and I are going to head over and talk to Pearce Landon.”
Ted took the opportunity to do a Zazen de-tox. “Not going to happen. Kate and me are the lead. We’ll talk to Landon.”
“You didn’t even know that his daughter and Scarlett were friends,” Belmont said. “You two are clueless.”
“How did you find out?” I demanded.
“Some basic police work,” Hardy barked. “Something you two wouldn’t know anything about.”
Ted abruptly ended the conversation saying, “We’ll talk to Landon. You two stay out of our way.”
“We’re going to tell Conrad,” Christine Belmont growled as we walked away. “He’s going to know that you missed something and cut us out of the investigation.”
TWENTY EIGHT
“What do you have for me,” Pearce Landon said, walking down the hallway from Jilly’s bedroom after seeing that the phone call was from Jason Smith. His sister’s breathing was labored and she’d had a difficult night. He knew that she was in good hands with Monica but there was only so much her aide could do.
“Just a name that you might want to check out,” Smith said.
Landon found a pen in his home office and took a seat at his desk. “Go ahead.”
“Scarlett was seeing a therapist, a guy named Richard Hawkins. He has an office near the Melrose District.”
A spark of anxiety shot through Landon. “I’ve heard of the guy.”
What Landon didn’t say was that he’d crossed paths with Hawkins a couple of years earlier. The psychiatrist had been working with a celebrity client of his who had been having problems with depression, just like Scarlett Endicott. She’d overdosed on some medication the psychiatrist had prescribed but had survived. Landon had spent several days with the starlet, even calling Hawkins to come see her. When he’d realized that the shrink had been having an affair with his patient and had abruptly ended the relationship, compounding her depression, Landon had confronted him.
The scene had turned ugly when Hawkins said he’d saved the starlet from self-destructing. Hawkins had eventually gone away with both a broken nose and a promise from Landon that if he ever contacted the starlet again he would report him to the medical licensing board.
If Scarlett had also been having an affair with Hawkins and had become depressed when she realized that he’d used her, Landon was determined to find out. And if that was the case he would make sure the therapist paid for his actions, but not until he was sure that he’d gotten everything out of Hawkins that he knew about Scarlett’s murder.
Smith went on, “Hawkins is known as the shrink to the stars. According to a source, Scarlett was suicidal. It might’ve had something to do with the film she was working on.”
Landon had done some research on the Internet about Final Wish. The plot had something to do with Scarlett’s character being pregnant with Satan’s child. There was a lot of buzz about the film being gory and sensational with lots of special effects and blood, not unlike the crime scene he’d partially fixed. He’d thought about her murder possibly being connected to the bloody film but wasn’t sure how.
“What else?” Landon asked his friend.
“Just that I heard Scarlett was unhappy with both the film she was making and her co-star.”
“Dallas Wakefield?”
“There was talk about the two of them being in conflict. I’m not really sure about the details.”
Landon ended the call after he got nothing more from Smith. He didn’t know Wakefield but had heard rumors the star had an over the top ego, something that was as common as a sunny day in Holly
wood. He decided to keep the actor in mind as someone who might be involved in his setup.
Richard Hawkins was another matter. Landon had nothing but contempt for the unethical little shrink. He planned to confront Hawkins about his relationship with Scarlett. If the psychiatrist was behind the photographs of Scarlett and his daughter and setting him up for the actress’s murder, he would pay dearly.
Pearce Landon was headed for the door to find Richard Hawkins when he glanced out his window. He knew in an instant the man and woman were cops, even before he saw the badge on the dog’s collar.
TWENTY NINE
I got Molly Wingate on the phone as Ted drove us to Pearce Landon’s house.
“I gave Alex Hardy the information about Landon and Dorsey both attending Stanford at the same time,” Molly said. “I also let him know that I’d talked to someone who’s known Landon for years who mentioned that their daughters had been friends.” She paused, probably sensing what had happened. “I just assumed he would share the information with you and Ted.”
I ended the call as we pulled up in front of Landon’s house and told Ted what had happened.
“Figures,” Ted said. “Those two idiots had better stay out of our way.”
“I doubt that’s going to happen. They’re probably in Conrad’s office right now, burning us and putting their own spin on everything.”
Ted and I were walking to Landon’s door when it opened. A handsome, well-built man, probably in his early forties, greeted us. After introductions, Pearce Landon led us into his living room. The house was clean but the furnishings were sparse and older, making me think that he might be single.
“I’ve been expecting you,” Landon said, after we took seats and Bernie settled on the floor.
“Why is that?” Ted asked.
“I’ve been around the Hollywood scene for years.” He smiled. “I heard through the grapevine about the Scarlett Endicott murder scene being cleaned. I knew that my name would come up, especially since my daughter Madison and Scarlett were friends.”
“So we’ve been told,” Ted said. “Tell us about their relationship.”
“Scarlett’s father and I went to school together. After we both had kids, Madison and Scarlett hit it off well and stayed in touch over the years.”
“And your wife?” Ted asked, looking around the room.
“We divorced several years ago. I live here with my sister.”
Landon’s manner was relaxed and confident. If he was involved in trying to fix Scarlett’s murder scene he gave nothing up.
“Any idea when Madison and Scarlett last saw one another?” I asked.
“As a matter of fact, I asked Madison that last night. As you can imagine we’ve both been very upset about what happened. She said that she and Scarlett went out for drinks a little more than a year ago. That was the last time she’d talked to her.”
Ted took over again. “Tell us about the kind of work you do.”
Landon chuckled. “I’m what some people might call an executive assistant. I’m really just a glorified babysitter. I try to smooth out the situations my clients occasionally get themselves into, defuse things.
“As in being a fixer,” I said.
He shook his head. “Nothing that exciting and just for the record I had nothing to do with the Scarlett Endicott crime scene.” My brows shot up, something that Landon noticed as he went on, “I heard what happened through the grapevine. Like I said, I spend most of my time trying to pick up the pieces when people get into trouble, do some hand holding, and try to help my clients keep a low profile.”
“Clients like Ernst Koch.”
Landon smiled at me, but seemed to take what I’d said in stride. “As you probably know Koch and I were friends, nothing more.”
“Let me cut to the chase,” Ted said, embellishing the truth to see what he got back. “Your name has come up from multiple sources in connection with the Scarlett Endicott crime scene. As you know, someone was at work when the police arrived. The speculation is, that someone was you.”
Landon’s voice remained even. “I’ll say it again. I work in Hollywood, sometimes with celebrities. People speculate about a lot of things, Detective, but I wasn’t involved.”
“But your daughter and Scarlett were friends,” I said. “That makes the talk more than just speculation.”
Landon set his blue eyes on me and didn’t blink. “Scarlett was a family friend. She was murdered. I want whoever did that to be caught and brought to justice. I would have no interest in fixing the crime scene.”
“Sometimes money talks,” Ted said. “It can be very persuasive.”
Landon’s eyes now held on Ted. “Not in this case.” He exhaled. “And regardless of what you might have heard about Martin Beal, fixing a murder scene is way out of my league.”
We heard a woman’s voice in the hallway. Landon excused himself for a moment. While he was gone I whispered to Ted, “What do you think?”
“He seems credible but you never know. Let’s keep an open mind.”
We listened as Landon exchanged words with a woman in another room. After a couple of minutes he returned. “My apologies. My sister isn’t well.”
“I hope it’s nothing serious,” Ted said.
Landon was stoic. “I’m afraid it’s ALS. Jilly isn’t doing well.”
We expressed our sorrow and gave him a moment. Ted then said, “Would you mind providing us with a client list?”
“Of course. If you’ll leave a card I’ll have it to you later this evening.”
“And your daughter Madison’s number, as well,” I said. “We’ll need to contact her.”
Landon recited his daughter’s number. Ted made a note of it before fishing a card out of his pocket. He then said, “We also need to know where you were this past Tuesday afternoon and evening?”
“I was right here.” He took Ted’s card. “I don’t go out much. Jilly’s aide, Monica will vouch for me.”
THIRTY
When Ted and I got to the station I passed Harvey in the hallway. He kept his head down, not looking up as Bernie and I shuffled into the stationhouse.”
I stopped and behind his back said, “Thanks for setting me up.”
He turned to me. “What are you talking about?”
“You signed Jessica’s ridiculous statement about me harassing her.”
“I was under a lot of pressure.”
I took a step closer to him. “What do you think I’m under now? I can’t believe you would do this to me.”
He mumbled and started to speak but stopped. He finally managed to say, “I’m sorry.”
“Sorry doesn’t help,” I said before stomping away.
Ted and I were at our desks for less than ten minutes when the lieutenant called us into a meeting with the other members of the unit, except for Braden and Horton who were still on assignment. Ted and I sat across from Selfie and Molly, not wanting to get too close to the idiot twins.
“Let’s hear it,” Conrad began looking at Ted and me. “What did Landon have to say?”
I let Ted summarize what we’d learned, including Landon’s daughter being friends with Scarlett when they were younger and his denials about fixing the murder scene. My partner concluded his comments by saying, “He admitted hearing that the murder scene was fixed but basically said it was way out of his league and he had nothing to gain by being involved.”
“What do we know about Landon?” Conrad barked at Selfie when Ted finished.
Our crime analyst was apparently prepared for the question, not bothering to reference her notes as she spoke.
“He’s been in Hollywood for almost ten years. Divorced. Lives with a sister who has ALS. We just got his client list. It’s mostly lower level celebs and wealthy individuals. He’s known for being more of an assistant and a counselor to his clients than a fixer. He’s also got a reputation for being someone who cares about his clients, tries to do the right thing.”
“Bullshit,” Ch
ristine Belmont said. “Landon skated on fixing the Martin Beal murder for Ernst Koch back in 2006. Koch wasn’t low level and Landon did a hell of a lot more than counseling.”
“He was suspected of fixing the scene,” I corrected him. “Nothing was ever proved.”
Alex Hardy ran two fingers through his bushy moustache, maybe looking for lunchtime leftovers. “Everyone knows he was involved.”
“Landon also had a motive for fixing the Endicott murder scene,” Belmont added.
“Let’s hear it,” Conrad said.
“As Detective Grady just mentioned, Landon’s daughter Madison and Scarlett were best of friends growing up. They had a falling out in recent years. It could be there was a boy involved, Landon’s daughter did the killing, and daddy tried to cover it up.”
“What kind of falling out are you talking about?” I demanded, wondering if there was something else Ted and I hadn’t been told.
“Madison and Scarlett were both actresses. Scarlett’s career took off while Madison was floundering around Hollywood getting nothing but bit parts. It wouldn’t be the first time jealousy caused someone to snap.”
“I think you’re off track, just speculating,” Ted said.
“At least we knew about Landon’s daughter and Scarlett being friends,” Hardy said. He looked at Conrad. “Something they missed.”
“Something you and your partner withheld from us,” I corrected, looking over at Molly Wingate at the same time noticing that Selfie was busy with her laptop computer.
“I provided the information to Detective Hardy,” Molly confirmed. “I thought it would be shared.”
Conrad looked at Ted and me. “You two should have gotten your facts straight. You were operating in the dark. It’s unacceptable.”
My impulse control button popped. “We were operating in the dark, as you call it, because information that was pertinent to our investigation was purposely withheld from us by our so-called team members.”
Christine Belmont tossed her phone onto her notepad. The pitch in her deep voice rose. “I won’t sit here and listen to someone falsely accuse me of impeding a murder investigation.”