#3 Hollywood Crazy: A Holllywood Alphabet Series Thriller

by M. Z. Kelly

  “You mean somebody in the mayor’s office?”

  “Maybe. It’s gotta be somebody with enough clout to keep Discrete in business all these years.”

  I was considering what Mo had said when I heard a clicking sound on the stairway. I turned in time to see Nana zipping down the stairs, clicking her dentures as Prissy chased after her.

  “Slow down, grandmamma,” Prissy yelled. “You could hurt yourself.”

  “I’m fine,” the old woman shouted. “And don’t’ call me that. From how on it’s, Nanadonna.”

  Prissy helped his elderly relative into the family room. Mo moved over so that they could sit down as Tex made an announcement. “As you may know, I’ve been working on a larger, electrified version of the dudelsack.”

  “Don’t tell me that’s some kind of new sex toy,” Mo said. “If I have to listen to another night of baby sis praising the Peeper, I’m gonna call eHarmony and have ‘em cut off both Mr. Peepers and your dudelsack.”

  “It’s actually a musical instrument native to the low countries,” Tex said. “It’s a variation on the more traditional wind instrument, complete with bellows, a keyed chanter, and drones.”

  “Did you know your boyfriend’s been playing with his dudelsack?” Mo asked Natalie.

  Before she could answer, Tex said, “It’s an electric bagpipe. Nanadonna and I are forming a band.”

  “I’m going to dress up like a cross between Madonna and Lady Gaga and play the electric guitar,” Nana said. She made a couple of denture clicks. “After Tex’s energy drink, I feel like a new woman. I think it’s also rejuvenated my skin and my hormones.” She looked at me. “Don’t you think I look younger, Kate?”

  “Not a day over a hundred.” Okay, I didn’t say it. I did say, “Why, yes there does seem to be something different about you.” Like, you’ve lost your mind.

  “We’ve already got our first gig,” Tex said. “We’ll be appearing at the grand opening of my friend’s store over on Vine Street. It’s an organic drupe establishment called, The Fruit Farm.”

  “It’s the perfect place for you two,” Mo said.

  “I’ve always wanted to be in a band,” Natalie said. “I’ve got me a pretty good voice.”

  “If you’d like to audition, we are in need of a vocalist,” Tex said. “But just so you know, we’ll be performing Nerdcore.”

  Mo looked at me. “What a surprise.”

  “Never heard of it,” I said.

  Tex explained, “It a derivative form of hip hop that utilizes the juxtaposition of two disparate cultures, characterized by themes that are relevant to a nerd subculture.”

  “God help us,” Mo said.

  “In layman’s terms, you could say that we rap about everything from computer games to politics to pornography. The subjects are quite varied and thought-provoking.”

  Bernie and I headed for the bedroom as Tex brought out his dudelsack and Natalie started rapping something about her brain being wired and her being on fire.

  Nanadonna pushed past us, clicked, and said, “I’ve gotta work on my Gaga outfit. I’m thinking about something formfitting that shows off my rejuvenated assets.”

  Mo followed us down the hallway toward her bedroom, saying, “Somebody just give me a frontal lobotomy now, put me out of my misery.”

  I looked back at her and said, “I’ll do you, if you do me.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FOUR

  The next morning, I stopped by the store and picked up some bran muffins to drop off to Charlie on my way to work. I was determined that my partner start eating healthy.

  When I stopped in front of Charlie’s house, I held my breath and dialed Mack McKenzie’s number. When the private detective came on the line, I heard my voice cracking like a schoolgirl’s.

  After pleasantries, I said, “I thought I’d check and see how things are going with your trip?”

  “Actually, I’m about to wrap things up here. I should be home by the end of the week.”

  Mack, a former Navy SEAL, whose real name is Hudson, handles high-profile kidnap cases that take him out of the country part of the time. I call him Mack because of his last name. It seems to suit him better than Hudson.

  “Great news,” I said, wondering what to say next. I saw Bernie panting in the rearview mirror. Maybe he was thinking about impending fatherhood after his romp with Mack’s dog, Thelma. I finally asked, “How is the mother-to-be doing?”

  “My housekeeper says she’s getting bigger every day. It shouldn’t be long before we’re grandparents.”

  “You’re making me feel old,” I said, chuckling.

  “Let’s get together for dinner when I get back. That is, if you’re still available?”

  I knew that was his way of asking if I was seeing someone else. “I’m available and hungry,” I said, then felt like a complete idiot. He laughed. “What I mean is that I’m looking forward to dinner.”

  When the called ended, I looked at Bernie and said, “Just so you know, next to Jessica Barlow, I’m the biggest imbecile in Hollywood and that covers a lot of ground.”

  Charlie and I had coffee and muffins on his patio, although I don’t think he was crazy about the health food. He nibbled the corner of the muffin like it was a poison mushroom.

  “How’s the diet going?” I asked.

  “Been eating those rice cakes. They taste like Styrofoam.”

  “Well, you’re looking better,” I lied.

  Charlie looked like he’d actually gained weight. Maybe it was the t-shirt he was wearing that made his stomach look bigger.

  “Wilma hasn’t been by,” he said. “Did you talk to her?”

  “I’m sorry, no. I’ll try to get by in the next day or two.”

  Charlie broke off a small piece of his muffin. “I’ve been doing some research on the Internet—learned a few new things. Maybe I should call her.”

  I quickly changed the subject, not wanting to hear about his research. I updated him on Natalie’s date and Marla West videotaping her and Harmon Sanders.

  “I read in the papers this morning that Sanders was arrested,” Charlie said. “Wouldn’t be surprised if the mayor cans him.”

  “I think West might be using her videos as blackmail for protection. Pearl told me that Discrete’s been in business for years and has somehow flown under the radar. Natalie’s friend, Mo, also mentioned there’s word on the street the agency might be getting some kind of special treatment.”

  Charlie looked at me. He seemed to be turning something over in his mind but didn’t say anything.

  “What is it, Charlie?”

  He pushed his muffin away, his gaze drifting down and away from me. “I seem to remember something about Discrete being investigated by the department several years ago.” His brown eyes slowly came up, finding me. “Maybe you should talk to Pearl about it. Could be there’s something worthwhile that he knows.”

  “If that’s the case, why wouldn’t he have already mentioned it?”

  Charlie shrugged. “Some things are...” He looked away. “I dunno. Maybe he just forgot.”

  I tried for another ten minutes to get Charlie to tell me what he meant, but he put me off. He finally said that he was tired and needed to rest. It was unlike Charlie. I was determined to talk to Pearl when I got to the station.

  “Have you seen Pearl?” I asked Jessica a half hour later when Bernie and I got to my desk.

  My new partner’s cold, dead eyes came up to me. “In the conference room with the lieutenant.”

  It looked like I was in for another fun-filled day with Lizzie Borden.

  Edna was practically foaming at the mouth when I entered the conference room. Pearl, on the other hand, had a bemused expression on his face.

  “The fucking press is all over the Harmon Sanders arrest,” Edna said to me. “Caine’s been calling the captain, wanting to know if Sanders was entrapped.”

  I’d heard that Sanders had lawyered up and bailed out of jail immediately. “Entrapped? More
like he was trapped like a horny rooster in a hen house. I talked to my friend. The guy’s good for it. The mayor needs to back off.” I then filled them in on the Marla West incident. “I think she was planning to use the video to blackmail Sanders.”

  “You mean for money?” Edna said.

  “No, for protection. Discrete gets to continue running a brothel while someone looks the other way.”

  “So you think this could go all the way up to the mayor’s office?” Edna asked.

  “Maybe,” I said, as Edna took a call and left the room.

  When we were alone, I turned to Pearl. “Charlie thinks you might remember something about Discrete being investigated by the department several years ago.”

  Pearl’s dark eyes shifted away from me. He ran a hand across his silver hair and exhaled. His gaze slowly came back to me. “I guess I should have talked to you about this when we first began working together.”

  “I’m not sure what you mean?”

  He stood up. “Let’s get Bernie and go for a walk.”

  Hollywood Station is a rectangular red brick building across the street from a bail bondsman’s office and some apartment buildings. The sidewalk outside the station contains stars, similar to those on the Walk of Fame, that are a memorial to officers who have fallen in the line of duty.

  Every time I noticed the stars, I thought about my father. His name wasn’t on the sidewalk because his death had officially been ruled a homicide while he was off duty.

  Pearl and I walked down the tree-lined sidewalk away from the station as Bernie sampled the exotic scents of the city of dreams. The morning was cool and clear, the street nearly deserted. After we’d walked a block or so, Pearl began telling me what he knew about the Hollywood escort business.

  “Discrete was established sometime back in the eighties, as I recall. I worked vice for a time back then. It was, of course, before the Internet. There were complaints from time to time about the business being a front for prostitution, but it was nothing out of the ordinary.

  ”Things began to change when we arrested a businessman on some embezzlement charges. After his arrest, he told us that he needed the money to pay off some pretty steep gambling debts to a guy named Sal Madden. We looked into Madden with the feds and found out he was involved in both illegal gambling and prostitution. The gaming was mostly illegal sports betting. The prostitution involved a Vegas to LA connection to run girls who worked for Discrete back and forth between the two cities.”

  “Is Madden still involved?” I asked, as we continue walking.

  Pearl shook his head. “This is where the story gets difficult. We decided to try getting inside Madden’s business dealings and recruited some officers to work undercover. Someone got wind of our operations and everything shut down. Discrete closed its doors and two days later, Sal Madden was found dead in his backyard swimming pool. One of the officers who’d been working the undercover investigation was shot and killed while off duty.”

  We stopped. I felt something shifting inside me, the awareness of what he was saying dawning. Pearl took my hands and my gaze came up to him. His eyes were changed, an emotion surfacing.

  “I’m sorry you weren’t told the whole story before now,” Pearl said. “I thought maybe your mother would have explained at least part of what happened.” His voice lowered, just above a whisper. “The officer who was killed was your father, Kate.”

  Pearl’s words seemed to come out of a dark tunnel, echoing long after he’d stopped talking. Something caught in my throat. I felt my eyes watering.

  I didn’t remember my father, except from pictures of us when I was a little girl. But what Pearl had said made his death seem real and very personal. Why hadn’t my mother told me any of this? I’d known that my dad was shot by an unknown assailant, but Sal Madden and the escort service had never been mentioned.

  I brushed my tears, took a breath, and tried to focus. “Was his murder ever linked to Madden or Discrete?”

  “Nothing could ever be proved. The investigation eventually reached a dead end.”

  “You said Discrete closed down. When did it reopen?”

  “In the late eighties with Marla West as the business manager.”

  I remembered when we questioned West, she’d told me that others had tried and failed to shut down the escort service. Had she been talking about my father and at the same time threatening me?

  “Do you think West could have been involved in what happened to Madden and my father?”

  “I think Marla West is just the front person for Discrete. There’s someone else who’s been behind the business, but there’s no way of knowing if he had a hand in your father’s murder.”

  “Who is that?”

  “A guy named, Jimmy Marcello.” We walked on, my eyes lingering on one of the memorial stars on the sidewalk, as he explained. “Rumor has it that Discrete is one of several businesses with ties to the crime boss. The income generated by the escort service, as well as other illegal entities, is laundered and invested in a variety of companies. And those illegal operations could not stay in business unless they have political cover.”

  I glanced up at him. “As in Harmon Sanders and the mayor’s office?”

  “That’s the million dollar question.”

  “What do you know about Marcello?”

  “No much, really. He’s the elderly head of a crime family that’s been in this area for years. He keeps a pretty low profile.”

  I turned away from him as Bernie sniffed a flower bed and I tried to process everything. If the mob was behind Discrete, it put an entirely new slant on both my father’s death and the current murders. Maybe China Warner and Michael Clinton were killed as some kind of payback.

  My emotions were wavering between anger and sadness. Then I thought about my partner. Charlie had been with the department for nearly thirty years. And there was no one I worked with that I was closer to than Charlie. Why hadn’t he told me any of this?

  I looked up at Pearl. “Does Charlie know about everything?”

  Pearl’s voice grew soft again. “Yes. He probably didn’t say anything because he’s been trying to protect you. You know he thinks of you like his own daughter.”

  I hated the way Charlie doted on me, always trying to run interference. But then it occurred to me there were others who could have told me what happened. “I wonder why no one else in the department ever bothered to tell me the real story.”

  “The case is cold. Most of the younger officers don’t have a clue about any of this. As for the old timers...a lot of them have retired...and the others...let’s just say they’ve moved on. It’s too bad.”

  I blew out a long breath, my gaze flickering across one of the memorial stars again. “Maybe it’s time the case was reopened.”

  Pearl regarded me for a long moment. “There’s something else you should know.”

  I was feeling overwhelmed by everything he’d said, unsure if I could take much more. “What?” I finally asked, looking up at him.

  “Do you remember anything specific about your father’s death; the day he died?”

  I shook my head. “I was only four years old.

  Pearl lowered his voice to almost a whisper again. “You were there when your father was murdered, Kate. You saw it happen.”

  CHAPTER TWENTY-FIVE

  The Wolf is parked on the street, watching and waiting. It’s rush hour and the traffic is heavy. The streetlights have come on and the storefronts are lit up.

  It’s been almost an hour since Marla West entered the Green Earth Café. She has only a few minutes more to live. There is no choice. The death order has been issued by the alpha-predator. The fate of Discrete Escort Service’s long-time madam, the woman The Wolf has known for almost thirty years, is sealed.

  A door opens down the street. The Wolf watches as West exits the restaurant and moves toward her car. She turns back for a moment, lingering on the sidewalk. It looks like something in a storefront window has caught her
eye. The Wolf puts the stolen sedan into gear and pulls away from the curb, gaining speed.

  When he’s a block away from his prey, The Wolf stomps harder on the accelerator. The timing has to be just right.

  Up ahead, he sees an attractive blonde woman coming over to West. The two women are discussing something. Maybe she works for West as an escort. It could be that she was supposed to meet her boss for lunch and was late. No matter. West has another date coming—a date with eternity.

  The car accelerates rapidly now, moving through traffic, and gaining more speed. He’s just a few yards away from the two women who are now on the street near West’s car.

  He sees the attractive blonde look up at the last second. Maybe she knows what’s about to happen. Too bad. The car’s engine is revving, screaming toward its target.

  At the moment of impact there’s a thud, the windshield cracks, and bodies fly. In the rearview mirror, The Wolf sees that he has left behind a path of chaos and death. The two women are down in the street. The slaughter is complete.

  The Wolf turns the corner and smiles. Mission accomplished.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

  After learning the circumstances of my father’s death, I spent the rest of the day in a state of shock. All I’d known before talking to Pearl is that my dad had been killed in Griffith Park, not too far from Hollywood.

  What seemed likely to me is that my father was off duty and had taken me to the park the day he was shot and killed. I also knew now that I’d seen everything that happened, but remembered nothing.

  I had seen my father’s killer.

  The awareness of that fact made it impossible to concentrate on anything. Like a movie reel in a darkened theater, images of my father’s killer flickered through my mind but I knew it was just my imagination working overtime. I could have seen the killer on the street and had no idea it was him. I struggled, trying to focus on my work. Even Jessica saw my anguish.