by Marja McGraw
“Well, Chris, this is my home.” Stanley had an odd look on his face.
Chris looked around admiringly. “Say, pal, this is swell. You’ve got a lot of ol’ timey goodies jazzing up your digs.”
Stanley relaxed and smiled, and I realized he’d thought Chris would make jokes about his apartment. Stanley had decorated with antiques, yard sale buys and lots of knick knacks, giving the apartment a fortyish look. It was too crowded for my taste.
“Stan, would you find your camera? I want to run up to the One-Hour Photo and see what you’ve got.” I hated interrupting this momentary male bonding between Chris and Stanley, but I was in a hurry. We’d waited long enough.
“Give me a moment and I’ll find it,” Stanley said.
My cell phone rang. I pulled it out of my backpack and answered. It was Mavis.
“Mavis, thank you so much for calling me back. This really is important.”
“What is it, Ms. Webster? I have things to do. I’m a busy woman.” She sounded annoyed.
“I’ll keep this short. Whom did you see outside during the scarecrow fire?”
“You call that important? You called and disturbed me for something like that? I – ”
“Please, Mavis, I honestly need to know.” My cell phone made a beeping noise. Uh oh. I hadn’t charged it recently. “As quickly as you can, please tell me.”
“Well, if it’s really that important, let me think for a moment.”
Beep.
“Mavis, please hurry. My phone is going dead.”
Beep.
“I saw you and your partner, and Traci Marks. And then there was, ummm, let me think.”
Beep.
“Please,” I begged.
“I don’t like pushy, rude people,” Mavis said, her voice rising.
The phone went dead. I took a deep breath and flexed my jaw muscles. The Lawsuit Queen had hung up on me.
“What’s wrong? Did the cell phone take a powder?” Chris was grinning, not a good thing at that particular moment.
“No. Mavis took a powder.”
“Huh?”
“She hung up on me.”
Stanley returned with his camera, dropping it when he tripped over the edge of a throw rug. He picked it up and checked to make sure it wasn’t broken, and finally pushed a button so the roll would rewind. Placing the film in an empty canister, he handed it to me. “Here it is. I really should buy one of those digital cameras. I sure hope it helps the investigation. You know, I’d be more than happy to take it in for developing”
“I know, Stan, but I’m in a hurry. This case is getting away from me. I’ve got to come up with something soon. It just feels like I’m spinning my wheels. Usually I’ve got more to work with when I’m on a new case.”
“If it makes you feel any better, the police don’t have much more than you do,” Stanley said.
“How do you know that?” I asked.
“I spoke to Pete this morning, and he had just spoken to his friend, the detective.”
“Rick?”
“Yes, that’s the one. Rick said they don’t have much to go on. They want photos, too. You might want to share these with Pete’s friend after you have them developed.”
“You’re right, Stan. I’ll have two copies made and drop off a set for Rick.”
I turned toward Chris, but he was busy eyeballing Stanley’s furniture.
“Where did you find these things?” Chris asked, glancing at Stanley.
“Oh, here, there and everywhere. Antique shops, garage sales, secondhand stores. Do you really like my collection?”
“I’ll say,” Chris replied. “This place is jake, okay by me.”
“Why, thank you.” Stanley sounded surprised. “I like it, too. It’s home to me.”
Even with all my visits to Stanley’s apartment, I’d never noticed that his home really did look like a set from a 1940’s movie. With my love for old films, I should have seen what he’d done. The Bogey Man was right; Stanley’s place was jake.
“I think I’ll have to start looking around for some stuff like this,” Chris said.
“If you need any help, let me know.” Had Stanley really said that? I thought he didn’t like Chris. Would someone shake me and wake me up?
“Press the flesh, man.” Chris held out his hand and Stanley shook it.
“Okay, you two can make a plan later. I need to get these pictures developed. Let’s go, Chris.” I actually wanted to encourage this blossoming friendship between the two men, but later. Not now.
“I’ll give you a jingle, Stan. We’ll get together, maybe have some laughing soup, and you can show me where to find some of this stuff.” Chris turned and headed for the door.
I leaned in close and said, “Stan? You might mention to Pete that you’ve had second thoughts about Chris. Maybe he’d listen if you told him that Chris isn’t such a bad guy.”
Stanley nodded and I walked out the door.
“What’s laughing juice?” I asked on the way to the car.
“Booze. A stiff drink might mellow Stan out a little.”
“Oh.”
Chris headed straight for the One-Hour Photo booth and I dropped off the film, making a point of telling the kid who worked there that the film was important, to please be careful.
He shrugged and I began to worry.
“Let’s grab a bite to eat,” Chris suggested. “We’re not that far from The Red Barn.”
“Sounds good to me, although I wish I could keep an eye on that film. Maybe I should have given it to Rick and he could have it developed. But I want it fast, not when their techs have the time.”
“Quit fussing, Babe. Let’s go eat. The film will be fine.”
Chris drove to The Red Barn and we waited for a table. It was crowded, more so than I’d ever seen it before. Pamela and another waitress were racing from table to table. Then I saw Joshua. Uh huh. His presence explained the crowd.
“Poor Pamela looks frazzled,” I said.
“Yeah. Looks like the doll could use an extra hand.”
Chris left my side and grabbed the tray out of Pamela’s hands. “Which table does this go to?”
Pamela smiled at him and pointed to a table in the corner. The Bogey Man was his most charming as he served a table of giggling women, giving them his best Bogey smile, overbite and all. They’d suddenly forgotten Joshua and couldn’t take their eyes off Chris.
I saw Joshua turn his head toward Chris and frown. Mr. Joshua King didn’t like competition? I headed for his table.
“Mind if I sit down?” I asked.
Chapter Twenty-three
I pulled out a chair and sat at Joshua’s table before he could refuse. “How’s everything?” I asked.
“Things were fine until about two minutes ago.” He sounded so annoyed that I almost laughed. He really enjoyed the attention he’d been receiving, and Chris was in his way.
“Joshua,” I said, calling his attention back to me, “how are you? Are you coping with your loss okay? Do you need anything?” Oh, I could be mean when I wanted to be. I knew he wasn’t grieving, but it seemed like he should be. After all, he and Purity had lived together for quite some time.
“Huh?” He didn’t get it.
“Purity. It hasn’t been that long since you lost her. Are you coping okay?”
“Oh. Yeah. Purity. That was a tragic loss. She was so young to be taken out like that. Poor kid. I hope they find her killer.” He glanced over his shoulder at Chris again.
His insincerity made me grit my teeth. I knew that he and Purity had broken up, but I thought he might at least fake his grieving for a while. Apparently I was wrong.
“Did you come here to see Pamela? Or do you just like the food here.”
“Pamela.”
That was a one-word reply that did not speak volumes. Then I noticed he was looking around the restaurant and smiling at various women. Occasionally he lifted a hand, not quite a wave. I got it. This was a new venue where he could l
et the public watch and admire him. I was not impressed, and I hoped Pamela understood what was going on.
“By any chance have you remembered anything more about that night that could help the investigation?” I knew my tone of voice was rude, but I couldn’t help it.
“Not a thing.” Joshua took a sip of his coffee. “I wonder where my food is.” We all have priorities, and apparently his were food and admiration, not necessarily in that order. Pamela hurried over to the table and set a plate in front of him. He tried to touch her arm, but she left to take orders from a new group of women and he was left reaching for air. He frowned.
I smiled to myself. What a jerk, I thought. And I thought he seemed so nice at first.
Chris walked up to the table and sat down with us. “I found some Bogey fans over there. Nice group of ladies.” He turned and smiled at them.
I couldn’t help but notice his expression was sincere, unlike Mr. Movie Star’s.
Pamela raced back to the table. “What can I get for you, Chris?”
He gave her a wink before he ordered a hamburger. Her eyes crinkled at the corners before she turned and headed toward the kitchen.
“Mr. Bogart, -- ” Joshua began.
“That’s Mr. Cross,” Chris interrupted.
“Mr. Cross, I want to ask you a question, if you don’t mind. Oh, and call me Joshua.” There was that fake smile again.
“And you can call me Mr. Cross. Ask away.”
Chris had set the tone for this conversation. I was impressed that he wasn’t impressed with the actor.
Joshua cleared his throat and his smile disappeared. “Mr. Cross, what could these old bats possibly see in you?”
I had a feeling that wasn’t the original question.
“Class. Something you’re not familiar with, Josh.” Chris sat back in his chair and watched for the man’s reaction.
A blonde-haired woman sitting at the next table and who looked to be about forty, turned around in her chair. “I heard what you said, Mr. King. As for this old bat, I won’t be seeing any more of your movies. You just lost a fan. And I’ll be sure to spread the word about how you feel.”
I was amazed when the woman stood up, pushed her chair back, and at the top of her lungs announced, “Ladies? Joshua King just referred to all of us as old bats. Can you believe that?”
“You’re damned right I said that. I don’t need you old crows.” Joshua slammed his hand on the table, causing the silverware to rattle.
The room turned deadly quiet.
He stood and stormed out of the diner. Applause followed him all the way out the door.
“That cream puff needs to dummy up. Opening that trap of his could ruin him. He ain’t havin’ a good day, is he?” Chris chuckled and patted my hand.
Pamela brought our lunch and cleared Joshua’s plate and silverware. She walked away, shaking her head without comment.
Table by table, the place began to empty out. Several women stopped and patted Chris on the back. “Thanks for serving me my lunch, Bogey,” said one little old lady.
“I don’t know who you are, but if you ever make a movie, I’m there,” said a thirtyish woman with long, full chocolate brown hair. “And thanks for serving me, too. You not only made my grandmother’s day, but you made mine a little better.”
“Okay,” I said, “I know you helped serve a few people, but what did you do to make them so happy?”
“I just turned on the ol’ Bogey charm. To a Doll or a Cookie, a friendly smile can go a long way. A wink doesn’t hurt either.”
“I saw you wink at Pamela.” Was he trying to win her over, too?
“That wink was different. Pamela is different than the average dame.”
“Ah.” What else could I say? Oh yeah. “Let’s finish eating and go see if the film is ready.”
Pamela and another waitress cleared tables while Chris and I ate. I noticed the other waitress kept watching the Bogey Man and she whispered in Pamela’s ear. I couldn’t help but wonder what she was saying. Pamela nodded and smiled, but she looked tired.
We finished lunch and left to pick up the photos. They were ready and I asked Chris to park while I went through them.
After dividing them into two identical stacks, I handed one set to Chris.
“You wanted to help, so see if you can find anything unusual in the pictures. Anything that doesn’t look right. And anyone who’s missing in the scarecrow fire photos.”
It was quiet as the two of us studied the stacks.
“Here’s a good one of you and Pete.” Chris held one up for me to look at.
I nodded.
“And this is a good one of your little neighbor lady, too. What’s her name?”
“Dolly,” I replied.
“Yeah, Dolly. I like her. She’s about as cute as they come. Uh, for an old lady.”
“Don’t let her fool you. There’s a very young heart inside that senior citizen.” I adored Dolly, and I was pleased that Chris liked her, too.
“Chris, do you see what I do in these pictures?”
“That depends on what you’re talking about.”
“Take a good look at the scarecrow pictures and tell me what you see. Or don’t see, as the case may be.” I sighed deeply. What a frustrating day it had been so far.
“Oh. I see what you mean. The outside pictures are all of the scarecrow on fire. None of them are of the crowd that came out to watch.”
“Uh huh. No help whatsoever. I can’t believe there are… Let me count.” I stopped and counted scarecrow pictures. “There are nine photos of a burning scarecrow, and none of people, unless you count me and Pete trying to put out the fire.”
Ever the optimist, Chris tried to keep me going. “Okay, Dollface, then let’s take a closer look at the pictures that were taken inside during the party. Maybe there’s something in those.”
I set the scarecrow pictures aside and began to study the others. There were some of the guests in their costumes, but they were taken before the confrontation between Joshua and Purity. Everyone appeared to be having a good time.
“Well, I’m surprised.” I really was. “I know that Stanley didn’t take any pictures while Purity was there because he was busy trying to make her leave. But someone must have picked up his camera because here’s one of Purity yelling at Joshua.”
“And here’s one of Purity as she was leaving. It looks like she’s stomping on someone’s hand. Who’s this guy?”
I looked at the picture. “That’s Jason Redman. He paints portraits. And look at the expression on his face as he looks up at her. Purity shoved him and he fell, and she stepped on his hand. If that look is any indication, he could have killed her. He looks like he was ready to do it right then and there.”
“So Redman is another suspect. If he paints, and she stepped on his hand, he could have gotten even with her. I mean, if she’d broken his hand, she could have ruined his career.” Chris thought he was on to something.
“But she didn’t break his hand. He was sore, but fine after she left.” I remembered him muttering to himself, and blood on his sleeve. “He should be added to the list though. Do you see anything else?” I turned back to the photos.
I held one out for Chris to look at. Mavis, in her little witch costume, was jabbing her finger at Joshua’s chest. “I remember she was telling Joshua he should sue Purity. And Mavis and Purity had words.”
“Mavis is already on your list. So let’s look for something else.” Chris took one last look at the photo. “Did you see the guy in the background?”
I studied the photo. “That’s Hamilton Stewart, Mavis’s boyfriend.”
“Did you notice the look on his face?”
I looked closer. “My, my. I remember him as being drunk. But in this picture he’s standing straight and looking very sober and angry. He doesn’t have that silly drunken look on his face that I saw. And it looks like he’s glaring daggers at Purity. Okay, one more for the list.”
Chris tapped me o
n the shoulder. “Cheese it, the cops. We’d better get moving.”
I looked up and saw a mall cop approaching the car. He tapped on Chris’s window.
Rolling it down, Chris said, “Yes, Officer?”
The mall cop pointed toward a jewelry store. We’d parked right in front of it. “They’re a bit worried because you’ve been sitting here for so long.” The cop looked at Chris, who was wearing his Fedora and had popped an unlit cigarette in his mouth. His old-fashioned brown suit didn’t help any. “You look a little fishy to me.”
I grabbed the cigarette out of Chris’s mouth. “Sorry, Officer. We parked so we could look at these pictures. We just had them developed. I didn’t realize we were in front of a jewelers, or that we’d been here so long.”
“Well, maybe you should be on your way.” The mall cop was beginning to rock back and forth on his heels.
“Thank you, sir. We’re on our way.” Chris knew when to be polite.
I continued to study the photos as Chris drove me home.
“What’s next?” he asked.
“I want to run over to Mavis’s house after I drop these at home. I never did get a real answer about whom she saw in the yard. Guess I’d better charge my cell phone. And then I need to drop off a set of these pictures for Rick Mason. He’s the Homicide Detective from L.A.P.D.”
“I remember him from the night of the party.” Chris had been questioned by Rick.
As I was shoving the photos back into their envelope, we pulled up to my house.
“Looks like you’ve had a visitor,” Chris said.
“I have? Who?”
“Don’t know, but they taped something to your front door.”
Chapter Twenty-four
I glanced up and saw someone had indeed taped something to my front door. Salesmen occasionally left notes for me.
Chris walked up the steps and studied the item. It was a photograph. “Doesn’t look good, Sandi.”
I pulled the photo off of the door. It was a picture of me and Pete at the costume party. I remembered seeing it in the set of photos that Jolly had given to Felicity. There was a big, thick red X drawn across my face.
“You’re right, this isn’t good.” I turned to Chris. “Don’t tell Pete about it. He’ll have a fit.”