Hollywood Rage

by M. Z. Kelly

  “I always wanted a Ferrari like the one Austin Marks drove,” Darby said, referencing the actor who played a Hollywood private investigator. “Instead, I ended up with a Ford Explorer.”

  “Life isn’t fair,” Olivia said. “I should have been Oprah’s sister.”

  We were met at the front door by the security guard who had found Wakefield’s body, an African-American man named Carl Nance. After showing Nance our IDs, he let us inside and told us about finding the victim.

  “I do a routine check of the property every couple hours, walking around and making sure the doors are secured,” the elderly guard told us. “I found Mr. Wakefield’s body in the pool about an hour after I let him inside.”

  “And the girl he was with?” Olivia asked.

  “Gone. She was driving away in the BMW they came in when I found the body.”

  We stopped in the living room, where the massive rear deck of the property overlooked the city. From where we stood, I could see a body floating in the water.

  “Is this the woman you saw?” Darby asked the guard, showing him the photo of our suspect from the convenience store near Wonderland Drive on his cell phone.

  Nance rubbed his chin. “Can’t be sure, but maybe. She was...” He smiled. “...very attractive.”

  Darby put his phone away. “Most high end escorts are.”

  “I’m assuming there are security cameras on the property,” Olivia said to the guard. A nod. “We’ll need to review the footage at some point.” She turned to Darby and me. “Let’s glove up and see what we’ve got.” She turned back to Nance. “I’d like you to wait outside, if you don’t mind.”

  “Of course.”

  The crime scene was unremarkable, except blood was pooled at one end of the deck, where the attack had likely occurred. After getting the body out of the pool, we found that the victim had suffered multiple stab wounds, not unlike the murder on Wonderland Drive.

  Olivia had Darby stay with the body while we looked at a bedroom that was adjacent to the pool. We found our victim’s belongings, including his wallet and phone, in an overnight bag on the bed.

  “ID, credit cards, and a couple hundred dollars,” Olivia said, after looking through Wakefield’s wallet.

  I’d taken a couple minutes to scroll through his phone. “It looks like he made a couple calls and a text to...” I looked up. “A woman named Mattie. Looks like a hookup, similar to what happened with Weston.”

  “Does the number match the one...?”

  I shook my head. “Probably made to a burner.” I took a moment and continued to scroll through the phone.

  Olivia walked around the room and came back to me. “Anything?”

  “It looks like some business calls and some that were made...” I took a breath. “...to his wife and daughter.”

  We spent another hour searching the estate before the coroner, SID staff, Leo, and Woody arrived. We took some time briefing everyone before Olivia asked Section One staff to gather on the deck a few yards away from the pool.

  While the coroner and the crime scene techies set to work, Olivia asked us for our thoughts on the murders of Weston and Wakefield.

  “I think we’re looking at paybacks,” Darby suggested. “Our suspect suffered some kind of trauma and the johns are paying the price.”

  “And the trauma?”

  “Million-dollar question. Maybe she was raped and is getting even.”

  Leo disagreed. “That’s not the way a typical rape victim responds.”

  I supported what he’d said. “Feelings of guilt and shame are typical reactions to a sexual assault. The victim’s misconceptions often result in self-blame, doubts about their own judgment, and feelings they were in some way responsible. A random violent response to a sexual assault just doesn’t add up.”

  “Maybe, but there’s no denying there’s a pattern of overkill in both homicides,” Darby said. “It takes all kinds.”

  “I think we need to take a closer look at our victims’ backgrounds, see if there’s anything in common,” Woody said. “Maybe what we find will point to another motive.”

  “I’ve already got Jenny and Molly on it,” Olivia said. She’d looked over and saw that Dr. Randolph was examining the body. “Let’s go see what the coroner has to say.”

  “Multiple stab wounds,” Randolph said, stating the obvious, after we’d gathered around. “He was probably dead when he hit the water, but we’ll see if there’s fluid...”

  When he didn’t go on, Olivia said, “What is it?”

  The youthful deputy coroner bent over the body again, examining the numerous wounds. When he finished, he said, “Just a thought about the lacerations. They’re consistent with the body’s arterial anatomy—something one of my professors in school referred to as ‘kill points’. It’s just speculation at this point, but it’s possible the killer was targeting those specific areas.”

  “Meaning she has some medical training?”

  “Possibly.”

  “Are the areas of the body that were targeted similar to the attack on our Wonderland victim?”

  He nodded. “Yes, they’re consistent. It never occurred to me until now.”

  It was noon by the time we finished up with the body. We were about to leave when the security guard came over to us.

  “I should have said something earlier, but I just thought about it,” Carl Nance said.

  “What’s that?” Olivia asked.

  “There’s a viewing deck that’s above the master bedroom. I’m told the original owner built it so that he could sleep under the stars at night. He called it Heaven’s Gate.”

  “We didn’t see anything like that when we searched the house.”

  “It’s built in a way that creates on optical illusion. You wouldn’t even know it’s there unless you know how to access it.”

  “Show us.”

  We followed Nance back inside the house and went upstairs. The master bedroom was as big as some houses, with an adjacent bathroom that looked like something you would see in a luxurious spa. There was no sign of the upstairs loft that Nance had told us about.

  “How do we find this Heaven’s Gate platform?” Olivia asked the security guard.

  Nance smiled. “It’s right in front of us.” He walked over and we realized that one of the bedroom’s glass walls had a hidden interior wall that mirrored the other walls. The reflection of light and glass made it invisible to an untrained observer.

  We followed the security guard upstairs and in a moment were standing on an elevated glass platform with a king sized bed in the middle. I imagined that the starlight would be spectacular while lying in bed on a clear night.

  “Not a bad place for a nap,” Leo said.

  I was about to respond when I heard Olivia calling to us. We walked over to a small bathroom adjacent to the viewing platform.

  “She left us a message,” Olivia said.

  The writing on the mirror above the vanity looked like it had been done in red lipstick. I was still trying to understand the meaning of it when Darby walked in and read it aloud.

  “Stop Her.”

  THIRTY-FOUR

  The writing we found on the bathroom mirror adjacent to the Heaven’s Gate room resulted in us spending the rest of the day at Highpoint processing the scene. The SID investigators confirmed that the message was written in lipstick. They found fingerprints in the residence matching those of our victim, security, and housekeeping staff, but there was nothing in the way of a probable match to a suspect. We had no idea what the words Stop Her meant, just as we had no explanation for the killings.

  When I got home that afternoon, I harbored fantasies about going straight to bed, but knew I was too keyed up to sleep. There was also the issue of Otto, who met me and Bernie at the front door.

  “Welcome home, madam.” Otto bowed, but I noticed he kept one eye on Bernie. “Perhaps you’d care to join Ms. Bump and Ms. Simpson in the atrium. I’ve prepared a delicious repast of pastries and Ce
ylon tea.”

  I found my friends in the glass enclosed patio room overlooking the back yard. I tried to ignore what Natalie had said yesterday about the possibility of bodies being buried in the yard as I took a seat on the wicker sofa. I accepted a cup of tea from Otto before he left.

  “Otto’s the bomb,” Natalie said, after he was gone. “Mo and me snap our fingers and he does whatever we want, kinda like a trained dog.” She looked at Bernie. “Sorry, buddy.” She looked back at me. “We’ve decided to give him a go as our footman.”

  I sighed. “Are you sure you want to hire someone who’s been living in our attic? I haven’t had a chance to run record checks on him yet.”

  Mo regarded me with one eye. “If it’s that trapdoor in your closet that you’re worried about, we had Otto nail it shut this afternoon and do a pinky swear that he’d respect our privacy. We guarantee there’ll be no more hauntings, at least from Otto.”

  When I didn’t respond, Natalie said, “You look like you been out chasin’ the boogie man all day. What gives?”

  “There was another murder...”

  “At Highpoint,” Mo said, interrupting me. “We heard some architect got whacked, dumped in the pool, and the killer left a message on a mirror in the bedroom.”

  I sipped my tea. “I don’t know who you’re talking to, but that’s pretty much the way it went down.”

  “We heard it was that Wonderland prossie at work again,” Natalie said.

  “Maybe. It’s too soon to know for sure.”

  Mo gulped her tea, set the cup down. “I think I was wrong ‘bout what I said before.”

  “Meaning?”

  “I don’t think you’re dealing with just a whack job. You got somebody with an agenda.”

  I rubbed the bridge of my nose, trying to push down a headache that had been blossoming all day. “Any idea what that agenda might be?”

  “She’s been spooked.”

  “Huh?”

  “Somethin’ from the killer’s past has resurfaced, if you ask me. She’s acting out based on that.”

  “Maybe her mum was a female Jack the Ripper,” Natalie said. “She’s been homeschooled all these years and is now showin’ us she got straight A’s in murder.”

  “Would you care for cocktails before dinner?”

  I looked up and saw that Otto was at the door with a tray of drinks in his hands.

  “Does a werewolf howl at the moon?” Natalie asked, going over and accepting the drinks. She served them up, saying, “Why didn’t we get us a footman years ago?”

  “‘Cause we was broke as a bunch of paupers in a Dickens novel,” Mo said before hoisting her drink.

  I also accepted a drink, realizing that Otto had made us Long Island Iced Teas. After my long day, it really hit the spot.

  “We heard Mel’s sister also got whacked last night,” Mo said, after setting her glass down and exhaling. “You get the goods on that Lazarus guy yet?”

  “Nothing, so far. The group’s pretty secretive.”

  She nodded, her gaze moving off, giving me the impression there was something left unsaid. “Have you heard something more about him?”

  She looked back at me. “You remember that group Charles Manson had back in the sixties?”

  “The Manson Family.”

  “Yeah. I heard that Lazarus dude considers the Society his family. Rumor has it he’s in total control of his followers and they got some kinda secret compound.”

  “Any idea where?”

  “I’ll ask around, but I don’t think it’s ‘round here.”

  “Dinner will be served in half an hour.”

  It was Otto again. He turned and abruptly left after making his announcement.

  Natalie finished her drink. “That guy is the dog’s bollocks. We never gotta lift another finger with him ‘round.”

  I yawned and stood. “I think I’m going to pass on dinner and just head for bed. I’ve got an early day tomorrow.”

  As I was headed for the door, Mo said to Natalie, “Aren’t you gonna tell her what Jimmy said?”

  I turned back to them. “What’s that?”

  “I almost forgot,” Natalie said. “I talked to Jimmy Sweets ‘bout them offshore account numbers. He called his cousin and he forwarded a picture of the money he found with the numbers.” She got her phone out of her purse. “Accordin’ to Jimmy, it’s not worth much.”

  When she had the image on her phone, I saw that the denomination was fifty dollars. “It’s from Singapore,” I said, after studying the currency for a moment. “It could mean that the offshore account is in that country.”

  “Maybe,” Natalie said, putting her phone away. “But if your daddy was dealin’ drugs and stashed the loot away, there better be a whole lot more than fifty quid.”

  THIRTY-FIVE

  “Dunbar was with Sherman Goff last night,” Olivia said after Section One had gathered in her office the next morning, and we began our day with a discussion of the Peters case. “He’s Howard Livingston’s business manager. Dunbar said they were working on his job duties over dinner. He got home about eleven and says he went straight to bed.”

  “His wife will no doubt vouch for him being home all night,” Darby said.

  Olivia looked at me. “I hate to ask, but could you follow up with her?”

  I exhaled, feeling the fatigue from lying awake half the night, maybe anticipating someone would come out of my attic. “I’ll try, but the last time I talked to her, Dunbar practically chased me down the street.”

  Bernie had been searching for crumbs on the floor and gave up, wandering off to a corner for his morning nap. Since we were discussing the Peters case, I decided I needed to tell Olivia what Mo had mentioned last night. “My friend Mo thinks Lazarus is in total control of the Society, not unlike the Manson Family from the 1960s. She also thinks they have a secret compound somewhere, where his followers are staying.”

  “I suppose your friend just happened to have knowledge of the case we’re working,” Darby said.

  “Don’t even go there,” Olivia said. “We’ve already established on prior cases that Mo Simpson has a lot of information from the streets, so it’s worth considering.” She looked at Jenny and Molly as Darby huffed out a breath. “What did you pull together on Lazarus?”

  Jenny had the workup, while Molly put photos of our subject on the overhead monitor. “His real name is Jackson Wayne Ellis, birthdate nine-sixteen-eighty-five. His parents were history professors at the University of Kansas in Lawrence, where Ellis grew up. He was considered a child prodigy and went to all the best schools, before eventually enrolling in the same university where his parents taught.”

  We saw a series of what looked like school photographs of Ellis appear on the overhead monitors. As a child, he had blonde hair and soft doe-like eyes, giving him an almost angelic appearance. In his later years, his appearance had become more severe. In his high school yearbook picture, he had long hair and a scruffy beard.

  “We think he had some kind of falling out with the school, and maybe his parents,” Molly said. “He dropped out and moved west.”

  Jenny took up his story. “He ended up in San Francisco and enrolled in the state university there, the same school Marilyn Peters attended for a couple years.”

  “Do we know if he and Marilyn were in contact during their college years?” Olivia asked.

  “There’s nothing we’ve pieced together, so far,” Molly said. “But Ellis formed the Society while he was in college there. According to one of the school counsellors who remembered him, the original purpose of the group was to create a new economic model for society, based on equality for all. Over the years, it appears that the group became increasingly anti-authority and anti-government, at the same time Ellis’s views became more extreme.”

  “About five years ago, he took the name Lazarus, apparently to symbolically emphasize that he’d been reborn. The Society is now considered a counter-culture movement, with Lazarus acting as a messia
nic figure. In the last couple of years, rumors have it the group has been active in this area.”

  “Lots of their members have been arrested for theft,” Jenny added. “Including embezzlement from companies they’ve worked for, all to support Lazarus and the Society. There’s a considerable emphasis on drug use amongst the members, including psychedelics that might be used to support Ellis’s claim that he’s got some connection to God or a higher power.”

  “What kind of numbers for the group are we talking about?” Woody asked.

  Molly answered. “There’s no way to know exactly, but we think it’s relatively small, with maybe just a few dozen members.”

  “Anything on a possible location of the compound where the group’s staying?” Leo asked.

  Jenny shook her head. “Nothing, but they actively recruit members with money, or have access to money, so it might be that they’re staying with someone who’s wealthy.”

  “So how do Mel and her sister fit into all this?” Olivia asked. “Other than the fact that Marilyn and Jackson Ellis went to the same college, is there anything that ties them together?”

  “So far, just the photograph that was found online,” Jenny said.

  “Let’s get with CCU again and see if they’ve been able to get anything more on the group. What about Ellis’s parents?”

  “They might be a factor in what’s happening,” Molly said. “They relocated to Dana Point last year. We tried contacting them, but they haven’t returned our calls.”

  “Kate, Leo, and I will go by and see them this morning,” Olivia said. She looked at Darby and Woody. “I want you two to follow up with Henry Moss and David Baxter. Maybe they can give us some insight as to why Marilyn Peters was targeted.”

  “Is the Peters case still our priority?” Darby asked.

  “This morning it is,” Olivia said. She looked at Jenny and Molly. “Anything new from the Highpoint scene?”

  “No prints or DNA,” Jenny said. “We did get some CCTV footage that’s interesting.”