Hollywood Homicide: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller

by M. Z. Kelly

  “That’s pure speculation,” Belmont said. “We know that Scarlett had been involved with Donny Kessler. Maybe she was writing the letter to him.”

  “But they’d broken up and the letter mentioned The Pantry,” Ted said. “It’s a restaurant in L.A. Kate called Kessler and he said that he and Scarlett had never gone there.”

  I confirmed what Ted had said and felt compelled to add, “For what it’s worth Kessler denied knowing that Scarlett was bi.”

  “There you go,” Belmont said, as though it confirmed what she’d said earlier.

  I was about to say that it wouldn’t be uncommon for an ex-boyfriend to deny his girlfriend was bisexual when my phone rang. It was Selfie. I listened to what she said for a moment and then ended the call.

  I had trouble catching my breath as I tried to come to grips with what I’d heard. I finally managed to draw in a breath and say, “Our crime analyst just got word from dispatch. There’s been a double homicide at Pearce Landon’s house.”

  FIFTY TWO

  We arrived at Landon’s house fifteen minutes later. Conrad, Belmont, and Hardy confronted a uniformed officer at the front door as Ted and I stood behind them.

  “We’ve got two vics,” the officer said. “They’re in the bedroom at the end of the hall.”

  My spirits sank as I contemplated the murder scene. I turned to Ted, “Maybe Rush paid back Landon’s family.”

  Ted’s face was etched with disbelief. “But his sister is…” He turned away, maybe not wanting to give voice to what we feared had happened.

  The scene in the bedroom was heartbreaking. Monica Silva, Landon’s sister’s aide, was lying across the bed where it looked like she’d tried to shield the frail woman from their attacker. Both women had been shot in the head. The thought of someone shooting a defenseless, terminally ill woman and her caretaker was beyond my comprehension.

  My stomach twisted into knots. I took Bernie into the backyard where I tried to clear my senses. As I took several deep breaths, my phone rang.

  “Tell me what happened,” I heard Pearce Landon say. His voice was distraught, frantic.

  There was no way to lessen the impact of my words. “They’re both gone.” I brushed a tear from my eye. “I’m so sorry.”

  Landon’s words were choked, barely audible. “How…how did it happen?”

  “They were found in the bedroom…shot at close range.”

  The line was silent for more than a minute. I heard vague sounds, maybe Landon breaking down. He finally came back on the line after a lengthy pause. “It was Joaquin Rush…I have no doubt…he was sent by Steinberg.”

  I searched for something to counter with, but thought it likely what he’d said was true. His voice came back a moment later. “This is personal now. Rush and Steinberg will pay with their lives.”

  The line went dead. I turned and saw Ted coming over to me. He must have seen my shocked expression. “What is it, Kate?”

  I put my phone away, brushed the tears from my eyes, and said, “Revenge. Pearce Landon believes Steinberg and Rush are behind what happened. He’s out for blood.”

  FIFTY-THREE

  We spent most of the day at Pearce Landon’s house processing the crime scene. I told Conrad and the others about Landon’s call. After more accusations that I was having inappropriate contact with a murder suspect, the lieutenant said that we needed to contact both Steinberg and Joaquin Rush and question them about the murders.

  Brie Henner arrived and, after a preliminary examination of the bodies, estimated the time of death as sometime between midnight and four in the morning. Both victims had suffered a single gunshot wound to the head at close range.

  I put in a call to Zig Steinberg’s assistant, Alysha Roberts, telling her it was imperative that we meet with the director. She called back later and said that Steinberg was scheduled to be home by five and had agreed to meet us at his house.

  Ted and I then got lucky—if you want to call another homicide lucky. Section One was assigned the murder of a high profile criminal prosecutor and Conrad decided he wanted Belmont and Hardy on the case. He reluctantly told us that we again had the lead on Scarlett’s murder, providing we ran everything past him. Ted said that he thought maybe Conrad had been told by the brass to lighten up on us. I told my new partner he was too much of an optimist to work homicide.

  Zig Steinberg lived in a two story Mediterranean villa in Beverly Hills on almost an acre of land. Based on what I knew about real estate prices in the area, I estimated that the property was worth around twenty million.

  Alysha Roberts met us at the door, along with her boss’s Bull Mastiff, Rudy. He and Bernie exchanged sniffs and growls before a maid ushered the big dog away.

  Roberts then led us to the director’s private office, a large guest house that had been converted into work spaces. After pleasantries, Roberts excused herself and we took seats across from Steinberg. The director was casually dressed in Levis and an open-collared long-sleeved shirt. He ignored Bernie, unlike the other times when we’d talked.

  Steinberg rolled up his sleeves, rested his elbows on his big mahogany desk, and then said, “My assistant told me about the suspect in Scarlett’s death and what happened to his sister and her aide. Do you really think there’s a connection to Scarlett’s murder?”

  I let Ted answer. “Pearce Landon claims that he was blackmailed into trying to fix Scarlett’s crime scene based upon these.” My hefty partner pulled copies of the photographs Landon had sent to us out of his briefcase. He slid them across the desk. “The other girl in the photos is Landon’s daughter, Madison. He claims he received an anonymous phone call, telling him that he had to fix the murder scene or the photos would be released on the Internet. After he arrived at the hotel and began cleaning things up, the police arrived. He thinks it was all a setup.”

  Steinberg put on his reading glasses and examined the photos for a moment. He then looked over the top of his glasses and said, “Who are the two men?”

  “We were hoping you could tell us that,” I said.

  Steinberg pushed the pictures back to Ted. “Never seen them before.” His gaze came over to me. “And what makes you think I would know anything about any of this?”

  I purposely kept my tone flat, my expression giving nothing away. “Landon thinks you’re behind Scarlett’s death and the blackmail to have him fix the murder scene.”

  The director pushed back in his chair. “Really?”

  Ted nodded and added, “He thinks Richard Hawkins was also involved and that he was murdered to cover everything up.”

  “If that’s the case,” Steinberg said, “This Mr. Landon is quite delusional. I don’t know anything about any of this.”

  “But you do know Hawkins,” I said, the pitch in my voice rising. “The two of you are good friends, going back a number of years.”

  He splayed his hands. “So?”

  “So, when we met at your studio a couple of days ago I asked you if you knew Hawkins. You downplayed your relationship, saying only that your paths may have crossed.”

  “I didn’t downplay anything. We’re acquaintances, that’s it.”

  “Acquaintances who happen to have been arrested for a sexual assault back in the 1980’s.”

  He laughed. It seemed contrived. “That was nothing.”

  “I doubt that the victim felt that way.”

  “The victim, as you call her, was an immature girl, out looking for a payday. We settled the matter amicably. It never went to court.”

  “Tell us about your relationship with Harlan Ryland,” Ted said. I saw Steinberg’s eyes shift as the question was asked, making me think the director wasn’t expecting the question.

  “We’re friends, so what?”

  “Just like Richard Hawkins was Ryland’s friend.”

  “What are you trying to say?”

  “Let me spell this out for you,” Ted said. “Scarlett Endicott was seeing Richard Hawkins for depression. He took advantage of that
situation and began a sexual relationship with her. When Scarlett called things off, Hawkins got upset. Scarlett ended up dead two days later. You and Hawkins were friends. Pearce Landon thinks you were both behind the sexual attack on Scarlett and his daughter. He believes Scarlett was murdered because she was starting to remember details about the attack and was going to tell the authorities.”

  “And Hawkins also ended up dead while staying at Ryland’s house,” I said. “Landon thinks he was murdered to cover up what he knew about Scarlett’s murder, maybe that you were, in fact, also involved in her sexual attack.”

  “That’s nonsense.”

  “We both know Scarlett was unhappy with her costar, your film, and probably with you. Rumor had it you were looking for a replacement actress, even before she died.”

  “We all know this town is full of rumors, and if you’re insinuating I had anything to do with any of this, you’re mistaken. I won’t…”

  “Joaquin Rush,” I said, angry that he was still stonewalling.

  “Who?”

  “Don’t play dumb with us,” Ted said. “We know he was at your house the night Hawkins was murdered.”

  Steinberg stood up. “This conversation is over. If there’s anything else, you can talk to my attorney.”

  Ted and I stood, Bernie coming up with me. I leaned closer to the arrogant director as Bernie growled. “Pearce Landon also knows that Rush was at your house. He’s a hired killer, the biggest fixer in Hollywood. Landon believes that Rush murdered Hawkins at your request. He also believes Rush went to his house, looking for him, and murdered his family. You need to understand something, Mr. Steinberg.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Your life is in danger. Pearce Landon has threatened to kill you.”

  The director smiled and met my eyes for one of the few times since I’d met him. I had the impression that I was looking at the real Zig Steinberg for the first time. “I have very good protection, Detective. Mr. Landon is the one who needs to be careful.”

  FIFTY FOUR

  When Ted and I got back to the station we learned that Lieutenant Conrad was meeting with Belmont and Hardy on their new case. Since Selfie and Molly were still at the station, Ted and I took the opportunity to meet with them in a conference room to go over where we stood.

  “Steinberg made a not-so-veiled threat against Pearce Landon,” I said to the two women, after summarizing our meeting with the famous movie director. Bernie was snoring in the corner, maybe bored by our stalled-out case.

  “Landon thinks he took out a contract on him with Joaquin Rush,” Ted added.

  Selfie sipped a can of Red Bull, set it down. “I’ve done a little research on Mr. Rush. He’s worked for a lot of high profile clients on both coasts. He’s suspected of killing a shipping magnate named Joseph Mayer in Boston a couple of years ago. The case is still open with Rush being the only viable suspect. Word has it that he’s made of Teflon and anyone who crosses him goes away.”

  “Rush was probably also behind the murder of Richard Hawkins,” Molly suggested.

  “That’s what Landon believes,” I said. “He thinks Steinberg’s trying to cover his tracks, first by killing Hawkins. Then, when Landon wasn’t home, the assassin sent a message by killing his sister and her aide.”

  “Was there anything you picked up in your conversations with Landon that might give us an idea about where he’s staying?” Molly asked.

  I shook my head. “He’s probably out there somewhere, making his own plans to take revenge on both Steinberg and Rush.”

  “I’ve been taking a closer look at the photos of the sexual assault on Scarlett and Landon’s daughter,” Selfie said, referencing the stack of photographs on the table. “I think they’re stills, probably culled from a video of the assault. It could also be there were others in the room during the attack, at the very least someone who was shooting the video.”

  “So, the attack might have been a gang rape,” Molly said.

  Selfie worked on her gum, nodded. “It’s possible. I think there’s a lot more to what happened than the still photographs that we’re seeing.”

  What Selfie had said struck a cord with me. I decided to give voice to what I’d been thinking. “What if Hawkins wasn’t behind the attack on Scarlett. She had originally gone to him for therapy. It could be that she was starting to remember details about what happened during their sessions and that Steinberg was involved. Hawkins and Steinberg were friends, so maybe he told Steinberg what was happening and Scarlett was silenced.”

  “It could also have gone the other way,” Ted suggested. “Hawkins was upset over Scarlett’s killing and planned to go to the authorities himself.”

  “And Steinberg called in Rush to take care of him.”

  “We’ve got enough holes in this case to pierce several eyebrows,” Selfie said, her eyes orbiting upward as though she could see her unadorned brows.

  “And we need to fill in those holes before Pearce Landon does something that he’ll regret,” I said.

  FIFTY FIVE

  Darkness had settled in as Pearce Landon checked his Glock-17, making sure that he had extra magazines for the semi-automatic weapon. He knew that Zig Steinberg would be expecting him and would likely have extra security at his estate.

  Joaquin Rush was probably also there, the hired assassin waiting for his attack. Landon’s anger boiled over like a furnace melting steel and he shook with rage when he thought about what the killer had done to his sister and her aide. If he had his way, Rush would pay dearly for their murders.

  After packing his duffle bag, he checked out of his modest motel room. When he was finished with Steinberg, Landon planned to change his identity and head east. He knew that he would be a wanted man after the attack, not only for the false accusations that he’d murdered a Hollywood Starlet, but also for killing one of the most famous directors in the world.

  The odds were stacked against him, but Landon was resourceful and prepared. He had almost ten thousand in cash and a false driver’s license and passport that he’d bought a few years back, as a precaution. In his line of work you never knew when life would take an unexpected turn. There would be no turning back from the path he was now choosing.

  As he drove through the streets of Hollywood in the older model rented Nissan, Landon was careful to check for anyone following him. As he passed Highland Avenue he became aware that the headlights he’d seen in the distance were still there, about a football field’s length behind. He decided to circle the block, just to make sure he wasn’t imagining things. When the headlights reappeared behind him on Las Palmas he knew he was in trouble.

  Landon picked up his speed, hoping to lose the tail in traffic, but at the same time trying to be cautious. The last thing he wanted was for the police to stop him and end his quest before it began.

  He was in heavy traffic back on Hollywood Boulevard when he saw the headlights behind him again and made a decision. He needed to know who was following him. If it was the police, he was sure that he could lose them. If it was Joaquin Rush, that was another matter. He would need to find a way to take care of the assassin before going after Steinberg.

  Landon found an off-street parking garage, left his car, and began walking up the boulevard. It was late evening and the usually heavy crowds had thinned out. He stopped at a street corner, turned, and surveyed the boulevard behind him. He saw the dark-haired figure in the distance. His assailant was moving down the street, staying close to the buildings, but Landon had no doubt now about who was following him. It wasn’t the police. He’d met the hired killer once before. He knew he was being tracked by Joaquin Rush.

  He now made another instant decision. A movie was playing at the Starlight Dome Theater. Landon reasoned that the Dome would be dark, giving him both cover from Rush and the opportunity to lose the hit man. Once he lost Rush, he would then regroup and make a decision if going after Steinberg was still his best play for the night.

  Landon bought a movie
ticket and found his way inside a theater that ironically was playing a newer release of one of Zig Steinberg’s most popular films. He found a seat away from most of the other patrons and lowered himself into his seat, waiting. His heart raced wildly as he anticipated the arrival of one of the most dangerous assassins in the world.

  It was almost an hour later when Landon saw his pursuer appear at the back of the theater. The venue was dark and for an instant he wasn’t sure if it was Rush. Seconds later when their eyes locked on one another, he knew it was the hit man.

  The hail of bullets that flew in his direction missed as Landon dove to the floor. There was lots of screaming and a jostling of bodies, as the spectators took cover or ran for the exits. Landon took that opportunity to return the fire, rising up and emptying the magazine of his Glock-17 in the direction of his assailant. Maybe it was his imagination, but Rush seemed unaffected by the spray of bullets, continuing to move in his direction for a moment. Then Landon saw the assassin’s body being pushed back by the impact of the rounds as he went down.

  There was more screaming before an armed security guard appeared at the front of the theater. It would be easy to take out the guard, but Landon had no desire to see an innocent man killed because of his own personal vendetta. He turned away, moved down the darkened aisle, and slipped out of the theater through an emergency exit.

  A few minutes later, when Pearce Landon was on the street headed away from the theater, he saw the police cars in his rearview mirror. The emergency responders were stopping in front of the theater. Landon said a silent prayer that inside they would find a dead assassin.

  FIFTY SIX

  I was in bed, doing my best to drown out the sounds of my mother and Buzz making whoopee, when I got a phone call from Ted.