Hollywood Games: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller

by M. Z. Kelly

  “Sounds delightful,” I said, before sipping my drink.

  “Figure if it don’t help detox my face I can always drink what’s left over for breakfast.”

  I was getting a visual that wasn’t pretty as Natalie changed the subject. “Mo and me found us a place to rent today. We can move in the day after tomorrow if your game.”

  “Let me guess,” I said, setting my wineglass on the coffee table. “Based on what we can afford you found us a shack in Compton overlooking an alleyway.”

  Through her veil Mo said, “You’re starting to sound almost as negative as Elvis.”

  I’d noticed most of the furniture in the house was gone when I got home. “Did he and Nana make it to Vegas?”

  “Far as we know,” Mo said. “Got me a feeling Bad Elvis will empty out the Wormwood Hotel in a couple of days.”

  “Nana said somethin’ to me ‘bout the Russian mafia moving in here before she left,” Natalie said.

  “What?”

  She nodded. “We gotta move in a couple of days or we’ll be livin’ with that Vladimir Poop’n guy.”

  “So what’s this place like that you found?” I asked going back to our earlier discussion.

  “It’s got a bunch of bedrooms, each with its own bath,” Natalie said. “It’s located up in the hills off Laurel Canyon on several acres of land. It’s even got a view of the city.”

  “How are we going to afford a place like that?”

  “Jerry hooked us up with an attorney, a guy named Barnabas Farnsworth who gave us a deal. The place is tied up in some kinda court hearing…” Natalie scratched her head.

  “Probate,” Mo explained.

  “Yeah,” Natalie agreed. “Farnsworth said we’re good living up there for six months, maybe even a year. It’ll give us some time to find a more permanent place to live.”

  I thought about Jerry King working a deal with the attorney and what we’d learned about him calling Jiggy Biggs the day he’d been murdered. I had serious doubts about King doing anything out of the goodness of his heart.

  “Do you have any idea where Jerry is tonight?” I asked Natalie.

  “He said somethin’ about seeing his mother. She’s been sick.”

  “Maybe you should take things slow with Jerry,” I said. “I’m not sure…”

  “He’s taking me to the Laugh Factory this weekend. I can’t wait. He’s rich, hot, and a movie star.”

  “A TV star,” I corrected her.

  “Whatever.” Her face was lit up with excitement in a way that always spells trouble. “Come on, Kate, what do you think ‘bout rentin’ the place?”

  Mo leaned forward in her recliner, removed the face mask. “We ain’t gonna find another deal like this. We gotta act fast.”

  “Your face is green,” I said to her.

  Mo picked up a hand mirror from the coffee table and examined her fleshy face. “Shit. I look like some kinda Halloween goblin and my face is lumpy.”

  Natalie went over and examined her. “Don’t worry, Mo. It’s probably temporary. You’re just a little green ‘round the gills.” She laughed.

  I finished my wine and lied, “I’m sure once you wash it off you’ll be fine. Maybe it’s just the avocado in your recipe.”

  Mo headed for the adjacent kitchen, calling out, “So, what about the house, Kate?”

  I sighed, went over and put my wineglass on the counter. “Let’s go ahead. I’m too busy at work to take a look at the place before we move in. I’ll just have to trust you both.” I saw that Mo now had her face under the kitchen faucet trying to wash off the toxic brew.

  Natalie began clapping her hands. “We’re gonna be living at Ravenswood Manor. Maybe we should hire us a butler and a maid.”

  “Ravenswood what?” I asked.

  “It’s just some name they gave to the place,” she explained, her lips turning up in a way that always spells trouble. “Don’t know much ‘bout how it got the name.”

  My sister Lindsay came to mind. I remembered promising her that I’d let her live with us. “My sister. Is there room enough for Lindsay?”

  “Shouldn’t be a problem,” Natalie said as Mo wrapped a towel around her head and began moaning. “There’s plenty of bedrooms.”

  “I think I’m having a reaction to my recipe,” Mo said, stumbling back over to the family room. “I might need to go to the ER.”

  She removed the towel and I saw that her complexion had taken on the color of Harvey Gluck’s face when he’d seen his first dead body.

  “I think you should just lie down, maybe put an ice pack on your face,” I said. “I’m going to bed.”

  As Bernie and I headed down the hallway I heard Mo saying to Natalie, “I think I need me a piece of pie, baby sis. Pie always settles my stomach, brings out my best DNA.”

  CHAPTER EIGHT

  “Did you see Barry Steiner’s interview with that reporter Beelzebub last night?” Edna asked Pearl, Gluck, and me after we took seats across from him in his office the next morning. Bernie had settled next to me but lifted his head and perked up his ears as the lieutenant’s voice grew more intense. “He said he’s going to talk to The Beast about the department dragging its feet on the fucking case.”

  The Beast was the nickname officers had given the department’s new chief of police, Bradley East, thanks to a name placard on the podium during his swearing-in ceremony that announced, B. East. I’d already had one go around with the new chief and didn’t want another.

  “It’s only been two days since Jiggy Biggs was murdered,” I said. “Give me a break.”

  Edna brushed a hand through his unruly hair. “We gotta make our own breaks. What’s the latest?”

  Pearl and I summarized what we knew, including finding the victim’s phone. I then said, “I talked to SID this morning. There were no prints on the phone. I’ve got the call history and voice messages left the day Biggs died. The numbers called and received were all business related. There weren’t any private calls made to friends or relatives, including his brother.”

  “Maybe the guy didn’t have any friends, hated his relatives,” Edna growled. “I can relate to that.”

  “There’s something else,” I said. “Last night I found some photographs in Biggs’ nightstand in the master bedroom. There were several shots of him with different women. Last night I went back to Biggs’ residence and talked to his brother Bobby who’d stopped by. I asked him about the women. He said he didn’t know any of them.”

  “So?”

  “So, it could be that Biggs was involved with someone, maybe more than one someone, and used a different cell phone for his personal calls.”

  “What’d his girlfriend have to say?”

  Gluck brushed invisible lint off his tailored gray suit and answered for me. “Coco’s still not returning my calls.”

  “Then go out and track her down,” Edna barked. Gluck jumped like he’d received an electric shock. “You’re a detective, Harrison, get out there and detect.”

  I thought maybe the lieutenant had forgotten my partner’s name as Pearl said, “We also need to talk to Biggs’ agent, Casey Ross, and his ex.”

  “There’s also the issue of Jerry King not mentioning that he called Biggs the day he was murdered,” I added. “We need to go back to him today.”

  Edna’s brown eyes jumped as his gaze moved around the room taking in each of us. “I want all this cleared by the end of the day. I’m meeting with the captain late this afternoon and I want an update on all of it.”

  After Pearl and Gluck left the lieutenant’s office I stayed behind, telling him I had something personal to discuss.

  “Don’t tell me your pregnant,” Edna said when we were alone. “If I have one more officer go out on a fucking leave, I’m gonna have a stroke.” He popped an antacid.

  “That’s one thing you don’t have to worry about, but I do need a half day off tomorrow.”

  “That’s not…”

  I interrupted before he could gi
ve me a list of reasons why I couldn’t take the time off. “My landlord rented out our house and I have to move on short notice. We’ve found a place but I need the morning to move what few things I own. It’s either that or I’ll be living with the Russian mafia.” I explained the reference but Edna didn’t see the humor in it.

  “I guess I can’t have you being fucking homeless,” he said, a deep crease appearing on his forehead. “But unless we shake something loose soon, I gotta feeling The Beast is gonna find a way to insert himself in our case. If that happens there’s no telling what kind of shit he’ll stir up.”

  What the lieutenant said worried me. The chief had come up with the bright idea of embedding a reporter in a recent case I’d worked and she did nothing but stir up trouble.

  I stood up and pulled Bernie up with me as Edna asked, “So how’s your new partner working out?” I wanted to come up with something positive to say but stood there a little too long, and came up empty. “I think you need to have a heart to heart with Harrison Wagner, put it out there in no uncertain terms that he needs to get with the program.”

  “What?” My brow furrowed. “Who…”

  Edna tossed some paperwork across his desk. I saw that it was from the department’s personnel division. “Your new partner changed his name. What’s that shit all about?”

  I read the memo, explaining that Harvey Gluck had his name legally changed and was now officially being referred to as Harrison Harvey Wagner in all the department’s files. I tossed the memo back to Edna and sighed. “I have no idea.”

  Edna dumped out another antacid, popped it. “You ask me, Gluck’s a dumb fuck messing with my mind. Read him the riot act, get him on task, or he’s gonna find himself reassigned.” Inspiration apparently struck. “Hey, maybe I’ll have him work security over at the coroner’s office since he’s got a thing for dead bodies.”

  When I left Edna’s office we divided up duties. Pearl said he’d talk to Casey Ross. Gluck or Wagner and I were to track down Coco Zee, Biggs’ girlfriend. When we got to the car I didn’t waste any time asking my partner about his new name.

  “I think it has a nice ring to it,” he said in his best baritone. “Harrison Wagner. What do you think?”

  “You don’t want to know what I think. You seriously want me to start calling you Harrison?”

  He smiled, his capped teeth shinning. “Someday maybe you’ll see my new name on a movie marquee. Besides, nobody named Harvey Gluck could ever make it big in Hollywood.”

  I cracked the window as I started the car, deciding that both Bernie and I needed some air. “I’m going to level with you, Harvey or Harrison or whoever you think you are. Our lieutenant isn’t happy.”

  “He doesn’t like my name?”

  I rolled my eyes and then regarded him for a moment before pulling out of the parking lot. “No. It’s just…” I blew out a long breath. “Look at it from his perspective. You’re new to the job. You dress like…”

  “You still think I’m gay.”

  “No. You dress…let’s just say that your clothes are a lot fancier than the other detectives. Then there’s your bronzing, and…” I paused, trying to come up with something politically correct but failed. “Oh hell, I’m not going to sugar coat any of this. You come across as somebody who wants to play like he’s a cop, rather than be one. Frankly, you come across as a fake, like someone acting the role of a detective. This might be Hollywood but there are real murders and real people here. You’ve gotta get a grip and take the job seriously.”

  His shoulders slumped. “You don’t like me.”

  I’d had enough. I pulled the car to the curb and stopped. I turned and faced him. “Whether I like you or not is not the issue. The issue is you acting like a cop, being professional, taking an interest in your duties, and solving a murder. If you can’t suck it up and do that, then…then I’m afraid you’re not going to pass probation.”

  Gluck or Wagner sat there for almost a minute, not responding. For a moment I wondered if he’d had some kind of mental breakdown. Finally he said, “Okay, I get it. I’ll put the acting stuff on hold—for now.” He sucked in a breath. “I can do this job. I’ll prove it to you.”

  “Okay.” I put the car in gear but looked back at him before I pulled away from the curb. “So, is it Harvey or Harrison?”

  “Harvey. As far as you and everyone else are concerned, I’m still a Gluck.”

  ***

  After a frustrating morning knocking on doors and making phone calls we had no luck locating Coco Zee or Jiggy Biggs’ ex-wife, Leila. With nothing else breaking we decided to meet up with Pearl at Casey Ross’s office that afternoon. Biggs’ agent worked out of a high rise on La Brea. It was one of those modern offices with lots of glass and chrome designed to impress.

  “Jiggy’s death is a loss for me both personally and professionally,” Ross said after introductions. Bernie seemed to have trouble settling down and was pacing behind me. I tugged on his leash and he finally sat next to me. “It’s still hard for me to wrap my head around what happened.”

  Ross was probably in his forties, short, a bit overweight, with deeply set brown eyes and a jowly face. Something about him reminded me of my high school science teacher who’d seemed perpetually in a quandary.

  “Where were you when you heard about what happened,” Pearl asked. The elderly detective had on a dark gray suit that complimented his silver hair.

  “I was at a wedding most of the day. I’ll have my secretary give you all the details if it’s an alibi your concerned about.”

  I asked about Biggs’ relationship with his co-stars on the TV show and got the same comments others had made about Breen and Powers. “What about Coco Zee? We’ve been unable to track her down, so far.”

  “She’s probably out shopping somewhere to drown her sorrows.” He puffed his cheeks out, releasing a breath. “Sorry, that wasn’t very nice of me. Coco’s…let’s just say that she was Jiggy’s jewelry. Very attractive, but not very substantive, if you know what I mean.”

  “We also haven’t been able to get ahold of his ex-wife, Leila.”

  “Same issues as with Coco, but at least Leila had some smarts. She took Jiggy to the cleaners during their divorce but that was a few years ago. I’m not sure if there was any animosity between them recently.”

  “We know Jiggy was involved in some gang issues back when he was making music,” Pearl said. “Anyone ever come around causing him trouble?”

  Ross shook his head. “Not that I ever saw. The rap music was before my time but it seemed to be in the past for the most part. Jiggy still used his music in the show to market himself but it was all just window dressing. I think he’d moved on from that world.”

  I then asked about any enemies, problematic relationships, and other women besides Coco, but didn’t get anything useful. I wasn’t sure if Ross was stonewalling or really clueless about Jiggy’s relationships.

  “Was there anything you noticed about Jiggy’s personality, maybe a change in his demeanor or habits in recent weeks, that might have indicated he was having problems,” Gluck asked. My partner was sitting up straight, paying attention, and asking a good question. Maybe there was some hope for him after all.

  “Now that you mention it, there was something,” Ross said. “I think he had some issues with finances.”

  “He was having money problems?” Gluck asked.

  Ross nodded. “I think it had something to do with a mortgage. Jiggy mentioned that he needed some money to pay back a debt and was having trouble coming up with the cash. He said he was going to have to talk to Jerry about it.”

  “Did Jerry King owe him money?”

  “I’m not sure, but that was the impression I got.”

  ***

  After calling Barry Steiner’s office, a secretary told me they were filming a segment of Hollywood Gold near Castilian Street in the Hollywood Hills and that Jerry King should be there. Pearl had to leave, but Gluck and I found the house without any
problems because there were several trucks with the logo Hollywood Gold parked on the street. The home was modest by the area’s standards, a vintage single story Spanish affair with a red tile roof, privacy hedges, and fountains.

  We showed our credentials and were led into the backyard by a production assistant who told us that we had to wait for a break in the filming before talking to the cast members. The home was on a hillside with a magnificent view of the hills and the Hollywood Bowl which sat directly below the residence. I imagined that, if the owners were so inclined, the lofty backyard perch would have offered a bird’s eye view of everyone from the Beatles to Pavarotti who had performed at the historic venue over the years.

  We watched from a distance as Wesley Breen, Gloria Powers, and Jerry King each filmed a tribute segment remembering Jiggy Biggs. What they had to say about Biggs was touching, until there was a break in the filming. Breen and Powers laughed during the intermission. We were several yards away but I thought I heard Breen saying something about an idiot, possibly referencing Biggs.

  During the break, the production assistant went over and pointed us out to King. He said something to the other realtors and came over. “I’m surprised to see you here.” He shook our hands.

  “Could we talk privately for a moment,” I asked. “We just have a couple of follow-up questions. It shouldn’t take too long.”

  “Of course. Let me just tell the director and the others.”

  I watched the reaction of Breen and Powers who seemed indifferent that we were there as King talked to them. Both realtors turned away, pulled out their cell phones, and began making calls.

  “We can meet in the home’s office,” King said, leading us inside the house. The handsome realtor wore a dark suit, probably picked out by the studio to make it look like he was in mourning for the fallen star.

  After we took seats in the office and Bernie settled down, I asked about Coco and Leila. “We’re having trouble getting ahold of them. Any thoughts on where they might be?”