by M. Z. Kelly
I let them into my apartment and spent the next few minutes going over what my mother had said. I ended with telling them, “Ryan Cooper was working for someone who controlled the studios back in the 1980’s. My mother said one of those men had become infatuated with Jean Winslow. When they had a falling out, he murdered her and covered it up, making it look like she died of a drug overdose. My love-dad was working part-time at the studios at the time and apparently found out what happened. He was murdered by Cooper to cover everything up.”
“So it’s wasn’t just a jealousy thing,” Mo said. She was still wide-eyed, her mound of hair almost scraping the ceiling. “Cooper was a killer, hired to cover-up the murder of the biggest star in Hollywood.”
“I think jealousy might have been a factor since my love-dad and Judy were involved at one time, but there’s much more to it than that.”
Natalie was swinging her arms around and screeching loud enough to get Bernie worked up. He barked a couple of times before she said, “The Jean Winslow case is the biggest mystery in Hollywood history.” Her luminous eyes were now as big as Mo’s. “And your love-dad was killed to keep it all quiet.”
“It looks like that’s pretty much the way things went down.”
“What about your mum’s other letter?” Natalie asked. “What did it say?”
“I haven’t read it yet.”
Mo’s face became contorted like I was a creature from the planet Zoltar who didn’t understand how human beings operated. “Are you outta your mind? The answer to who killed your love-dad and Jean Winslow could be in that letter.”
I yawned and brushed the hair off my forehead. “Maybe…maybe not. When I’m ready to read it, I’ll let you know.”
“In the meantime, Mo and me will look into things.” My gorgeous friend turned to Mo. “This case has waited a lifetime to find us. When we solve it, we’re gonna be more famous than Harley Rose.”
“Who?”
“He’s that reporter that works on famous murders, even solved a couple of ’em.”
I’d never heard of him. I said to them both, “You need to listen to me carefully. This case involves the murder of my love-dad. That means it’s mine alone to solve. I owe that much to him.”
“That doesn’t mean we can’t help you out,” Mo said, softening her tone. “Me and baby sis can be your assistants, do some research on Jean Winslow.”
I released a slow breath, knowing that their form of research would be more than just surfing the Internet for facts about the dead movie star. “You have to promise me you won’t go off on your own and investigate this case or tell anybody about it. I’m willing to let you be involved, but you have to do what I say.”
Natalie lifted up her little finger and pointed it toward Mo, who did the same. They interlocked their fingers, saying, “Sistah swear.” They looked at me and I realized they wanted me to join in the pinky party. I also interlocked my finger.
Mo said, “All for one, and one for all.”
“Until the dirty killer takes a big fall,” Natalie added.
THIRTY-TWO
Bernie and I got to work a few minutes late the next morning, thanks to me being awake most of the night thinking about my mother’s letter. I’d come close to reading her third and final letter, but held off because of Noah’s phone call. He’d called as I was getting ready for bed and reminded me about coming by tomorrow night to fix dinner. He’d said he was willing to talk to me and help process what I’d learned from the first two letters. I decided I would wait until we had a chance to discuss things.
As I’d tossed and turned all night the murder of my love-dad seemed increasingly ironic to me. He’d been killed because of what he’d pieced together about a famous actress’s murder. Almost three decades later, I’d made a decision to become a homicide cop. Those facts again seemed somehow fated to me, like I’d been chosen by an unknown force to become a detective and eventually solve his murder.
I’d also been unable to sleep because of my thoughts about Lindsay. Her boyfriend’s words about my sister belonging to him had continued to haunt me. I’d decided that Ice was a ticking time bomb, just like Janice Taylor and The Swarm. I needed to stop them both but had no idea where to begin.
“Nice of you to finally make an appearance,” Alex Hardy said as I stowed my purse in my desk and Bernie flopped on the floor. As usual, he didn’t make eye contact.
“How are things with our case coming along?”
“They’re not.”
He didn’t elaborate and I decided not to ask, since I’d spoken to Selfie when I got in and knew the lieutenant wanted to meet when Leo arrived. I sifted through the build-up of paperwork in my in-basket for a few minutes before checking the voice mail messages on my phone. Most of the messages were from attorneys, some from the prosecutor’s office asking about past cases I’d worked, and a couple from law firms representing their clients that I’d arrested.
The last message was something I wasn’t expecting. It was from a girl who sounded like she was about ten years old. Her name was Samantha, but told me people just called her Sam. I played the message twice, listening intently to the last portion when she told me why she was calling.
“My parents were murdered three months ago. I’ve been living with my aunt since then. There’s a chance…” Her voice dissolved into tears. After a moment, she cleared her throat and continued. “…my uncle is working on a TV program that’s going to be called Hollywood Detective. He told me about you. I would like to meet and tell you what happened to my parents. I think you can help. Please call me back.” She left a number and then said, “Thank-you for listening.”
I hung up the receiver, feeling conflicted. The girl had a sweet, innocent quality. Everything about what I’d heard made me want to help her, but being on a TV show was the last thing I wanted.
Alex interrupted my thoughts. “Tell me something.”
I glanced up. “What is it?”
“When Chris was shot…before she died…did she say anything?”
His question had come out of the blue. Alex was talking about Christine Dunbar, his former partner, who had died in a shootout.
“No…not really.” I saw that his dark eyes had a misty quality. “It was sudden…there wasn’t really any time for words.”
“She never mentioned anything about me…maybe even before what happened?”
I shook my head. “Why…I’m trying to understand why you’re asking.”
He didn’t look at me. “Never mind. I was just wondering.”
I studied him for a long moment. He glanced at me but then began working on some paperwork. It occurred to me that he was still trying to deal with his partner’s death. Maybe that was why he’d been so difficult. Then something else struck me. Did Alex Hardy have feelings for Christine? Was that why he seemed so emotional?
My thoughts were interrupted by Leo. “Look who’s returned from the big show.” I said my hellos as Bernie came up to his feet with his tail wagging. Leo had his ever-present smile as he nuzzled Bernie. He looked over at Alex. “Did you tell her?”
Alex mumbled something unintelligible but otherwise didn’t respond.
I looked back at Leo. “Tell me what?”
“We think we might have a lead on Galen Marshall.” He cocked his head toward Lieutenant Oz’s office. “Let’s go see the wizard and we’ll tell you what we’ve got.”
Ten minutes later, Selfie and Molly had joined us all with the lieutenant in his office. Bernie, as usual, got lots of attention from Oz as we chatted about my federal case before the discussion turned to Reeder and Hodge.
Leo looked at Molly and Selfie, saying, “Since you two put things together, why don’t you tell Kate what we’ve got.”
Molly used a remote and turned on one of the overhead monitors as Selfie explained. “We spent a couple of days going through all the group photographs from Bernstein Studios again before we realized what we needed was right in front of us. The studio used a company
called Sunset Photography to take their annual photographs during the time Reeder worked there. We contacted Sunset and learned they contracted with local photographers to do a lot of their field work. During the years the three photographs in question were taken, Galen Marshall was one of those contractors.”
“The guy we’ve been looking for was right there, he was just behind the camera,” Molly said.
Alex chimed in. “That’s what you call hiding in plain sight.”
My partner must have forgotten that he’d previously discounted even looking at the photographs. “What about an address on Marshall?” I asked. “Are we any closer to tracking him down?”
Leo shook his head. “We’ve been checking the homeless shelters, but, so far, we’ve come up empty.”
Oz gave up on the Bernie love fest and my big dog trotted off to a corner to rest. “Why don’t we go over what we know about both these cases? Maybe, just like with the photographs, there’s something we’re still missing that’s right in front of us.”
Selfie took over, working the monitors as she spoke. “Last Tuesday night Carla Hodge was found murdered in MacArthur Park. A witness saw a man running from the scene but didn’t get a good description of him.” We saw photographs of the victim appear on the monitors before there was a close up of the knife used in the attack. “The murder weapon was a replica knife with distinctive swastika and SS markings, similar to ones used during World War II.”
Molly took over, tying the murder weapon to our cold case. “As we know, the same weapon was used to murder Bruce Reeder ten years earlier. The documentary producer was found slain in his bedroom. No suspects or concrete leads were ever developed in that case.”
“Fast forward to the present,” Selfie said. “We know that the murder weapon used in both cases was taken from the evidence room at our R&I department, probably by Galen Marshall who worked for a shredding company and had access to the secure area. Marshall has a history of mental instability. We know that he used his knife to carve up the back of Lisa Jones, his former girlfriend, before using it on Carla Hodge.”
“And we now know that Marshall had access to Bernstein Studios when he worked for Sunset Photography ten years earlier,” Alex said. “That puts him in close proximity to Reeder.”
Leo said, “That leaves us with the question, what kind of beef did Reeder and Marshall have back then that caused our suspect to murder him?”
“Do we have any indication that Galen Marshall is bisexual?” I asked. “Maybe he and Reeder were in a relationship.”
Leo shook his head. “I talked to the ex-girlfriend again yesterday. Jones said Marshall definitely wasn’t bi or gay, and that he, in fact, made disparaging remarks about those lifestyles.”
“Maybe that’s our motive,” Alex said. “Marshall knew Reeder was gay, they had angry words about it at some point, and Marshall paid him back.”
The room was quiet for a moment. I didn’t say anything, but I doubted what Alex had said was sufficient motive for the murder. There had to be something else going on that had caused Galen Marshall to go to Bruce Reeder’s condo in the middle of the night and slaughter him.
Leo finally spoke up. “I think there’s something we’re still missing and we’re probably not going to know what it is until we find Marshall.”
“Is there anything you’ve turned up that ties him to Carla Hodge?” I asked.
I got headshakes before Alex again conjectured that it was an attempted sexual assault.
“Could Marshall still be working as a photographer?” I asked Selfie and Molly.
“We’ve contacted all the local photography studios but got nothing,” Molly said.
“Maybe he’s still working as an independent contractor.”
“I don’t think so,” Alex said. “We know his mental state’s been deteriorating in recent years. I doubt that anyone would hire him.”
We spent another half hour speculating about our suspect’s possible motives before Oz told us how he wanted to proceed. “Let’s work on finding Marshall. I want us to continue to canvass the local shelters. There’s also got to be something that we’re still missing on why he targeted both Reeder and Hodge.”
After the meeting ended, Oz asked Leo and I to stay behind for a few minutes. When we were alone, it was obvious that the lieutenant was trying to choose his words carefully. “Don’t say anything until this is definite, but it looks like Alex is going to request a leave of absence. I think it’s a good idea. He’s been difficult for everyone to work with and probably needs a break.”
“Really?” I realized there was a little too much excitement in my voice and softened my tone. “I mean, all things considered, I understand.”
Leo agreed with me, saying to Oz, “We’ve both seen what the stress of the job can do to someone. I think a leave would benefit everyone.”
Despite my best effort, I couldn’t suppress my smile. “If that happens, any thoughts about a new partner for me?”
The lieutenant wasn’t giving anything up. “I’m working on something behind the scenes. If it works out, I’ll let you know.”
I decided not to press him for details. I then remembered my earlier conversation with Alex. I mentioned it and then added, “Do you think he’s having problems coping with what happened to Christine?”
Oz nodded. “Just between us, I think he had feelings for her. He’s…having a hard time coping with the loss.”
While, it wasn’t uncommon for partners to develop feelings for one another, sometimes even romantic feelings, I doubted that Christine Belmont had shared those same feelings for Alex. Before she’d been killed, she had confided in me that because of being sexually assaulted as a child, she hadn’t been in a relationship for years. She’d finally moved past some of that past trauma and had begun dating again before her death.
After again emphasizing the confidential nature of Alex’s circumstances, the conversation drifted to the phone call I’d received from the little girl who called herself Sam. “She said something about her parents being murdered and she wants me to help. She also mentioned the TV show.”
Oz brushed a hand through his snowy thatch of hair and smiled. “You know as much as I do. All I was told was that the girl would call you. It’s up to you to decide what, if anything, you want to do about it.”
I sighed. “You know how I feel about the media.”
He nodded but kept quiet.
I finally said, “I guess I owe it to her to at least hear what she has to say. I’ll give her a call.”
Oz smiled. “I had a feeling that’s what you’d say.” He then changed the subject, asking me about my federal case. “How are you coping with everything? It must have been a pretty intense few days.”
“It was, but…” I thought about Joe Dawson. “I’m working with some good people who are dedicated to stopping what’s been happening.”
Oz’s voice softened. “It’s not over, is it?”
I shook my head. “No. It’s a matter of time until I have to go back.”
After saying that the department’s Media Relations Section was going to want to debrief me at some point, he said, “You know that I’m here for you if you need to talk...about anything.”
“That goes for me, too,” Leo agreed, in his deep baritone. He smiled at Oz. “LT and me have fought a few battles together. We can probably relate to some of what you’re going through.”
I thought about what they’d said. I’d previously mentioned my mother’s letters to Oz but hadn’t said anything about them to Leo. It occurred to me that they both knew my love-dad and might have some thoughts about what I now knew. With that in mind, I spent the next few minutes filling them both in on what my mother had said in her first two letters. I finished by saying, “If everything my mom said is true, it means that Jean Winslow was murdered and my father was killed to cover everything up.”
Both men sat in silence for a moment, processing what I’d said. Oz finally looked at Leo and said, “You wan
t to tell her what you know?”
My eyes narrowed on Leo. “Tell me what?”
Leo’s big chest rose and fell. He brushed a hand over his shaved head. “I knew John, the man who raised you. I was pretty close to him at one time.”
“Why didn’t you say anything to me before? When I mentioned him you acted like you didn’t know him.”
“John and I were…” He seemed to lose focus for a moment before continuing. “I was a rookie cop back when everything happened. Your dad and me used to hang at Lulu’s, the bar I mentioned before. I always suspected there was something more to his murder but I didn’t want to say anything about it without the facts to back it up.” He leaned closer to me and lowered his deep voice. “I know what happened has made for some tough times for you. I just didn’t want to make things any worse.”
I blinked, feeling the weight of everything that had transpired over the years. “What can you tell me about what happened?”
“I just remember your dad talking about working security for the studios. He said there was a lot of bad stuff going on there. I wasn’t sure what that meant until Jean Winslow died. A few days later, your dad was killed. I think what your mom said in her letter was right; their murders were tied to one another. That’s all I know.”
I looked at Oz. “What about you? Is there anything you haven’t told me?”
He shook his head. “You now know everything we know.” His voice came down a notch. “We only wanted to protect you and not say anything that we couldn’t prove.”
My gaze moved between each of them. “In case you haven’t noticed, I don’t need to be protected. I can take care of myself.”
THIRTY-THREE
I spent most of the day with Alex and Leo trying to track down leads on Galen Marshall’s whereabouts without any success. After processing what Leo had said, I’d eventually calmed down. I knew both he and Oz had my best interests at heart. It had even occurred to me that if I eventually uncovered enough evidence, the deaths of both Jean Winslow and my father could be reopened as cold cases. I also knew it would take a lot of investigative work on my part for that to happen.