"What hospital is he in?"
"Saint Ann's. It's not too far from here."
"Okay, I know it well. It's the hospital my sister Erica is assigned to."
"Will she be there? Maybe I'll be able to meet her if she is."
"Not sure. She was on call at midnight last night. She may still be there, and if she is you can meet her. If not, then tomorrow night at the theater."
Barcelona left. To say I was disappointed that we wouldn't be riding in a taxi together to the hospital, is an understatement. But I was going to see her again, and besides, I did get to hold her hand. Even if it was just for a moment. That was when she was leaving as I shook it and told her goodbye.
Chapter 7
Barcelona and I arrived at St. Ann's hospital at the same time. I quickly jumped out of my taxi and ran over to hers to open the door and reach for her hand which she graciously extended into mine. As I guided her out of the taxi, I was in seventh heaven again. Of course my heart was doing those strange things. I was falling hopelessly in love.
As we walked down the hall, one of the nurses said, "Hi Sam. Erica said you'd be here today. You just missed her. She said you'd be in to question the guy in room 409. When I asked her how she knew, she said it was her detective instinct, whatever that means. I thought you were the detective?"
"Correct you are, but remember Erica was raised in a detective family. Is it all right for us to go in?"
"Yes, he's getting ready to leave, even though he still has a few hours to go."
We took the elevator up to the fourth floor and entered the actor's room.
John Ashland was sitting on the bed completely clothed and looking ready to leave the facility as soon as he was given the okay. He looked a little pale and shaken by what had happened to him.
Barcelona made an introduction, saying that she had "hired me" to investigate the case. She told him she thought that the murderer actually wanted him killed instead of the understudy that night, Anthony Sparks.
"No way. Why would anyone want to kill me? I don't have any enemies."
Barcelona agreed. "I'm sure you don't. But, John, to make me feel good, please answer the questions that Sam will ask you."
"Okay, detective Sam, fire away. I want Barcelona to feel good." After saying that, he gave a little chuckle.
"I'm wondering, did you spend a long time with anyone yesterday?"
"I had lunch with Mike, my agent." He looked over at Barcelona and smiled. "Mike said I was up for the movie part to play Billy the bully in the movie of Murder on Broadway. He said that there were three others besides me being considered."
I broke in, "Did he happen to mention who the other three were?"
"Yes, I guess it's no secret. Besides myself, there's another Broadway actor, Peter Holmes. I think you've worked with him before, Barcelona. Is that right?"
Barcelona nodded. "Two plays back. He was very good as I recall. He wasn't the lead actor, but received very good reviews."
"Quite a handsome guy, I believe. The other possibility for the movie is Charlie Long, who I understand is very hot in Hollywood right now. His last two pictures I hear have made big bucks. The last one is, or rather was, Anthony Sparks, who of course is now no longer a contender."
Turning to me, Ashland asked, "Do you think that it's possible that the killer tried to kill me last night instead of Anthony Sparks?"
"It's possible, but maybe not only you, knowing you're allergic to peanuts, but Anthony Sparks at the same time."
Barcelona turned to me, frowning. "How could someone kill John here, and Anthony Sparks, with a single bullet?"
"It could be like this," I explained. "Maybe the killer thought if he gave John enough peanut extract, it would kill him. So the killer could get two birds in one night." I looked at John, watching his face carefully. "Is there a possibility someone could have dosed your food with peanut oil without you knowing?"
"I suppose so. The doctors have told me that even a small amount could be life threatening if I wasn't careful. So you think that perhaps the killer tried to get rid of both of us yesterday, but only succeeded with Anthony?"
"It's possible. I'm not saying it's a sure thing, but it could be. Tell me, how long have you had this Mike as your agent?"
"A long time. He's a go-getter. That's why I made the change many years ago. My other agent didn't do too much. I was the one who had to hustle to get the good parts."
"Would Mike gain anything to see you dead?"
"You've got to be kidding. I can't see why he'd want to lose his commission. He also handles Peter Holmes, one of the other three contenders for the Hollywood part."
I looked over at Barcelona. "How about you? Are you up for the starring role in the movie?"
"Yes," she replied, with what I thought was a slight blush. "Although it's not been made public yet, I've already been given the roll. I've even signed the contract."
"Congratulations." Both John Ashland and I said it at the same time.
On the way out of the hospital, I asked Barcelona if she had any time off during the show's run.
She said, "My contract reads that I'm to have every Wednesday off, as long as the show runs. As you know, today is Wednesday, my free day. The theater is closed today. Why do you ask? Does it have something to do with the case?"
"I'm not sure."
I was thinking how fortunate it was for John Ashland that he had all day to rest, and half of tomorrow before he had to perform.
"May I ask you a question now, Sam?"
"Yes, fire away."
"Well, Sam, you've never told me your last name. You do have one, don't you?"
Without thinking, I again put my foot in my mouth. "Let's just say that if we ever got married you wouldn't have to change your name."
Her cheeks got a little flushed. I could have kicked myself for making her feel uncomfortable. But she recovered well.
"Are you kidding me, Sam? Is your last name Jones?" Then with a frivolous laugh she repeated my name, "Sam. Sam Jones. I love it."
I wanted to respond "I love you, Barcelona Jones."
Chapter 8
Leaving the hospital, Barcelona and I took the first taxi in a line of six that were waiting for passengers. I opened the door for her and gently helped her in, then ran over to the other side and joined her in the back seat. We both laughed, as it reminded us of our first meeting which was only the day before, but seemed much longer. I was thinking that in less than twenty-four hours I had fallen madly in love with one of the most famous stars on Broadway.
I decided to take the plunge. "Barcelona, since today is Wednesday, and if you're free tonight, would you consider having dinner with me?"
She hesitated. I held my breath. My heart was not skipping any beats. This time it felt like it had completely stopped.
"I'm sorry, Sam, but I'm not ready for a relationship just yet. I like you. You're sweet, congenial and very handsome. But at the moment I'm just concentrating on my career here in New York, and sometime next year in Hollywood to make the movie. It's a great opportunity for me. Part of me wants to say yes to your dinner invitation, and another part of me says no. My philosophy has always been, when in doubt, don't."
"I understand, but what if we made it a business meeting. I still have some questions I'd like to ask about the murder, and about the men up for the movie roll. It will be strictly a dinner between the client and the agency. I feel like it may all be connected somehow."
"Oh, Sam, you're making it more difficult for me." She smiled while she said this, and my heart started to beat again. "Let me think about it. I'll call you in an hour. Is that okay with you?"
"Well, it's better than a quick no." This time I had a smile on my face.
I dropped her off at the place she was staying, and gave the taxi driver the instructions to my office where Donna was waiting for me. She said that Chief Mead wanted me to call him as soon as I got to the office.
You have to remember that this was more than
fifty years ago, long before modern communication systems such as cell phones, the Internet and instant messaging. It's hard to understand now just how inconvenient it was when you needed to keep in touch. Back then it was phone calls and typewritten letters in the mail. E-mails weren't even in our dreams of things to come.
Donna dialed his number and handed me the receiver, which was of course on the end of a long, thick cord. "Hi, Chief. What's up?"
"Hi, Sam. I've been wondering if Miss Jones called you about working on the case. She asked me for your address. If she has, what did you find out?"
"She came to the office. And by the way, thanks for the great recommendation." I then related all the information to him about our visit to the hospital and talking to John Ashland. I also gave him the names of the four men who were up for the movie roll, including John Ashland and the murdered actor Anthony Sparks.
He thanked me, saying he was looking forward to working with me again, and that he'd see me at my parents' wedding anniversary party next week. But he was curious about why they were having it on a Wednesday.
I related to him that Mom and Dad were leaving on Thursday and spending a few days in Turkey, before joining the cruise ship on Sunday morning for thirty days to celebrate their thirty-fifth wedding anniversary. And that they just wanted a few special friends to gather together to help them celebrate before they took off.
The Chief said he'd be there, and thanked me for the information again. He also said he'd let me know any information he might find out.
I hung up the phone and waited for Barcelona to call. An hour had passed but no call from her. I had other calls and each time my phone rang, I just about jumped out of my skin, hoping that it was her. Finally one hour and twenty-three minutes later her call came through.
"Hi, Sam. What time and where shall we meet?"
I gave no answer. I felt like my tongue was tied.
"Sam, Sam, are you there?"
"Uh yes . . . I'm just thinking. How about seven? I'll make reservations at the Rainbow Room if that's okay with you."
"Yes, it's one of my favorite places."
"Great. I'll pick you up at seven. Give me your address, Barcelona, so I can give it to the taxi driver."
She gave me her address. I couldn't believe that she had said yes.
Oh, oh, I was thinking, there goes my heart again!
Chapter 9
Just as soon as I hung up the phone I called my mom and dad. I'd not recognized Barcelona Jones when we first met, because I'd never really got involved in who's who in showbiz. But my mom and dad would know her for sure.
"Hello."
"Hi, Mom, this is Sam. How's everything going?"
"Just fine. How are you, Sammy?" That was mother's nickname for me. When I was younger I didn't like it, but now I find it comforting and loving.
"I'm great. Is Dad there?"
"He is. Do you want to talk to him?"
"Yes, but not just to him, but the both of you at the same time. Could he get on the other line?"
"Certainly. I hope everything is all right."
"Hi, Sam, what's up? Pray all is well with you."
"All is fine, Dad. I want you both to hear this together." I swallowed hard. Then continued, "I've found the girl I'm going to marry."
"Who is she, and where did you find her? Has she been lost?" That was Dad's sense of humor!
"Sammy, are you sure? And how come we haven't heard about her before? When did you meet her?"
I didn't want to answer Mom's question, but if I didn't I knew she would persist. "Yesterday"
"What? You met her yesterday and you're already planning on marring her?" That was Mom's reply.
Then Dad cut in. "Okay, Sam, who is this woman who has apparently swept you off your feet? And does she feel the same way about you?"
"Not sure, Dad. Her name is Barcelona. She's one of my clients." I was afraid to tell them who she actually was, as I was sure that they'd both go into hysterics. I was beginning to wish that I hadn't called.
Mom spoke up next. Her voice quiet, and I detected much concern in it. I could tell she was worried that I'd be hurt, or maybe plunging into a not-so-good relationship. "Sammy, it's been such a short time. Have you gone out with her, or had any serious conversations about either of your future plans?"
"No, Mom, we haven't. I just know deep inside of me that she's the one I'm going to marry. We're going out to dinner tonight."
"Sammy, what does she do? You know you have a very good business, and as far as income you are pretty well set. Does she even have a job? And besides, you probably haven't even kissed her yet. And tell me again what did you say her name was?"
"Barcelona, Mom. Barcelona."
"Barcelona? There's a famous Broadway star with that name. Her last name is the same as ours. I'm sure that this Barcelona that you say you've fallen in love with is someone else."
Silence filled the air for a few seconds.
"Sammy, are you there?"
"Mom, Dad, the girl I'm going to marry is Barcelona Jones!"
That did it. They both went into hysterics -- just as I thought they would.
"Oh, Sammy, you're such a joker and I love you." That was Mom.
"That goes ditto for me, son. How do you come up with these crazy things?"
"No. Mom and Dad, I'm serious. I may bring her to your anniversary party on Wednesday, if that's okay with the two of you."
The phone went silent again. I could tell they were trying to hold back their laughter. I could hear muffled sounds coming from the receiver.
Dad finally spoke up. "Of course it's okay with us." Then after a long pause and hearing those muffled sounds again, he said, "Tell us again who you're going to marry."
"Barcelona Jones, the Broadway star."
That did it! This time I could hear them laughing out loud. They were no longer covering the mouthpiece of the phone. They were holding nothing back.
Chapter 10
When I hung up the phone, my biggest regret was when I told them that I was bringing Barcelona to the anniversary party. I realized that if she didn't go, they would think for sure that I was playing a joke on them.
I finished some stuff around the office and told Donna to please close up whenever she was through. I wanted to go home, shower, put on my best outfit and pick up Barcelona for our date. At least that's what I was calling it. Barcelona was most likely going to call it a business dinner. Oh well, I was thinking whatever made her happy would definitely make me happy.
When I got out of the shower I heard my phone ringing. I ran to answer it, hoping it wasn't Barcelona calling to cancel our business-date-dinner.
"Hello, this is Sam."
"Sam, this is Chief Mead."
"Hi, Marty. This must be an official call."
"Yes, I'd like to confirm something with you. You did say that Peter Holmes was up for the male lead for the movie, Murder on Broadway? Right?"
"The Broadway actor. Yep, that's correct. Is he one of your suspects?"
"He was one of them, but not any longer."
"What cleared him? Does he have a foolproof alibi?"
"Yes, foolproof all right. He's in the hospital morgue."
"What happened? Another shooting?"
"No. This time it was poison."
"Poison? What kind, and when, and who found the body?"
"Don't know yet what kind. His body was found late this afternoon by his agent, Mike Larson. I'm wondering, can you come by the hospital and identify the body? I need another identification, as you know. I always like two or more."
"No, not me, I've never seen the guy before, but my date tonight can. If it's all right with her, I'll bring her by on our way to dinner."
"Okay, that will be great. Wait a minute, you have a date? This woman I have to see. I thought you were married to your job and didn't have time to date. That's what you told me a few months ago. Who is she? Is she someone I might know?"
"Maybe. I'll introduce her to you,
if and when we get there."
I hung up and immediately dialed Barcelona. I was happy that when she gave me her address she also had written down her private phone number.
"Hello."
"Hi, Barcelona, this is Sam."
"Hi, Sam. Have you heard about Peter Holmes?"
"Yes, that's why I'm calling. News sure travels fast, doesn't it?"
"Yes, especially in show business. It was Mike Larson, his agent, who called me. He found the body."
"I know. And talking about the body, how do you feel about identifying it? The Chief asked me, but of course I've never seen the guy. I told him I had a friend who knew him, and if she was willing I would bring her by. I didn't give him your name. Are you up to that?"
"Not really. I'm sure there are over a dozen cast and crew who could identify him. But if you think I should, then I will."
"Don't, if you're not comfortable with it. Please give me a couple of names of those who knew him, and I'll pass them on to the Chief."
Barcelona gave me three names with their telephone numbers. Then she said, "Thanks so much, Sam. You're a darling for understanding that I'm not comfortable with indentifying the body. And by the way, I'm looking forward to our date tonight."
Thump, Thump, Thump. My heart started to beat to the rhythm of a new love song.
Chapter 11
I called the Chief back and gave him the names Barcelona had given me. He said that would be fine, then added, "I'm disappointed that I won't get to meet your new girlfriend."
I asked him if they'd found out the kind of poison that killed Peter Holmes. He said there was still no news, so I told him I'd call him in the morning to see if they'd found out anything.
"Someday, Chief, someday -- you are going to meet my new love, and are you ever going to be surprised!"
"Stop teasing me. Who is she?"
"Sorry, Marty, but I have to go. I'll call you tomorrow. Adios."
It was almost time to meet Barcelona. I left my building, hailed down a cab and gave the driver the address. When we arrived, Barcelona was waiting outside looking absolutely gorgeous. I jumped out of the taxi, held the door open and assisted her in.
I could tell she was still a little shaken by the death of Peter Holmes. Now two people she knew had been murdered. The first thing she asked me was, "Anything new on Peter Holmes' death?"
Barcelona Jones - Murder on Broadway Page 3