Moonlight Cocktail

by William Cassidy

  “Oh, Jennifer knows all about tropical plants and flowers and can grow anything,” Hypatia said.

  “Thanks again, Jennifer. I’m sure you’ll get a note from Katherine if she has your address.”

  “I gave her one of my cards, Jack, and I hope she visits my flower shop in L.A. some day. In fact, I wish I were there today. Anywhere but here.”

  “Well, these memorials are always difficult. I know what you mean.”

  “No, you don’t know what I mean. This guy was a real shit. I can’t believe I’m showing respect for him by being here. Actually, I can’t figure out why anyone is here.”

  “Jennifer, that’s enough,” Hypatia said. “We’ve been through this three times today.”

  “Why are you here? He didn’t do anything for you other than stalk you, push you around, and tell everyone in Hollywood lies about you and him.”

  “Jack, I’m sorry, but Jennifer has a rather negative view of Derek that I asked her to contain during this service.”

  “Look around, Jack,” Jennifer interjected. “Do you see a wet eye in the house? I don’t think so. And you won’t find one anywhere in Hollywood either. In fact, I’ll be surprised if his wife can muster a tear for the bastard.”

  “Jennifer, please.”

  “I think I better leave you two alone to work this one out,” Jack said.

  “I’m sorry, Jack,” said Hypatia with a frown clearly aimed at her sister.

  “Don’t think twice about it. I’ll tell Katherine you’ll stop by to see her before you go back to California.”

  “Please do and tell her I’ll bring a better-behaved little sister when I come by.”

  Jack bid the Adams sisters adieu and put Jennifer at the bottom of his list of suspects. She may know a lot about Hawaiian plants and she probably knows about ‘Akia, he thought, but it was unlikely that someone who was so public with her contempt and disdain for Derek Reynolds would do him in, even though she undoubtedly enjoyed every aspect of his demise.

  Jack next turned his attention to Sidney and George Lane, who were still talking with Arthur Fairbanks.

  “Jack, I got your message. Thanks for calling me.”

  “I’m glad I reached you in time, Arthur.”

  “Hello, Sidney. Hello, George.”

  “Jack, how wonderful it is to see you again,” Sidney said. “We so loved showing you our garden.”

  “The pleasure was all mine, Sidney. George, I must tell you, the variety of plants you have out there would impress the botanists who sailed with Captain Cook.”

  “And Jack would know that, George,” Arthur interjected proudly. “He’s read everything about Captain Cook’s voyages to the Pacific.”

  “Really, Jack. And I thought you were just a lawyer turned coffee farmer,” George said, an edge of condescension in his voice.

  “Well, as I mentioned at lunch, I’m trying to learn as much as I can about Hawaii’s history and that inevitably drew me to Captain Cook.

  “That must have required a great deal of reading,” George observed. “Where did you do your research, Jack?”

  “At the Bishop Museum. I’m sure you’ve been there more than a few times.”

  “Yes, I spent quite a bit of time there myself when we were selecting plants and flowers for our garden.”

  “Well, it’s an extraordinary resource, sort of like your library.”

  “Yes”, George replied, “In fact, I tried to acquire as many of the old horticultural and botanical books as I could so I wouldn’t have to drive out to the Bishop Museum every time I wanted to plant another part of our garden.”

  “I’m sure you’ve got every book that matters.”

  “No, there are some that have been out of print for a long time and others are only available at the Bishop. Luckily, the Bishop Museum seems to have them all, even those that would be impossible to find, except at estate sales.”

  “Have you been there recently?” Jack asked.

  Jack couldn’t be certain, but George appeared to be startled by the question.

  Just then, there was a stir at the entrance to the Wailae Room, and a striking woman with think blonde hair strode into the room, led by a dark-suited man who was obviously from the business side of Derek Reynolds’ operation. They walked up three steps to the stage and stood at the podium. The crowd grew silent as the executive vice-president of Reynolds Productions stood at the microphone.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, thank you for coming to honor our colleague and friend, Derek Reynolds. I know we all miss him terribly and I know you are all wondering what will happen to you and to our production here in Hawaii. I have talked with Mrs. Reynolds about it, and she would like to speak to you directly.”

  As Loretta Reynolds walked to the microphone, Jack was once again surprised that Derek could have persuaded her to give up an acting career. She was tall with high cheekbones and an athletic build that was evident in spite of her plain black dress. She radiated a presence that only the most formidable movie stars project, and those present were obviously mesmerized at the sight of her.

  “Thank you for coming here this evening. My husband would have been honored to see all of you remembering him. It gives me great comfort to know that you all cared so much for him. And so I have decided that the best memorial we can give Derek is to continue the production here in Hawaii and make this the best movie he ever produced. Thank you very much, and now I think we should all enjoy our favorite refreshments at the kind of party that Derek would have enjoyed.”

  The applause quickly moved beyond a dignified response to a very enthusiastic clapping and then to outright cheers. Jack was not surprised at the reaction. The members of the cast and the employees of the production company weren’t there because they loved Derek Reynolds. They were there because they needed work, and Loretta Reynolds knew it. Jennifer was right, Jack mused; there wasn’t a wet eye in the house, including those at the podium.

  Out of the corner of his eye, Jack saw Dave McNeil standing just outside the entrance to the room where he, too, had been listening to Loretta’s remarks. When he saw Jack looking in his direction, he nodded imperceptibly. Dave was ready for Jack’s signal.

  Loretta stepped down from the podium and began to work the crowd. She was accompanied by Derek’s executive vice-president every step of the way, leading Jack to conclude that Loretta had been a very important component of the business side of Reynolds Productions. Jack watched as Loretta moved among the cast members and the production company employees. She thanked each member individually for coming and urged each to stay with the production and complete Derek’s final movie. The employees of Reynolds Productions could not have been more responsive to her. They lined up to greet her and convey their condolences just as the bar opened with great fanfare at the other end of the room and waiters with trays of hors d’oeuvres and white wine began circulating. A memorial service, Hollywood style, Jack thought.

  As Jack watched Loretta, he was impressed with the composure she maintained as she spoke to each person. She would extend her right hand, nod her head, say a few words in a quiet tone, and then move on to the next member of the cast or production team until she encountered a young man who was obviously a member of the cast. Dressed in a white linen sport coat and pink polo shirt with yellow pleated trousers, he looked as if he had just been posing for an ad in a fashion magazine. Loretta barely acknowledged his presence and quickly moved beyond him to the next member of the cast.

  Jack had the overwhelming sense that he had seen this man before. Studying him, he recognized a few of the features he had seen in the magazine photograph of the Hollywood party that Loretta had attended. When the man headed for the bar in the back of the room, Jack decided to join him. They reached the bar at the same time, but the bartender was already flooded with orders and Jack turned toward the young man.

  “Could you grab me one of those short glasses on the table over to your right? I hate to drink cocktails out of highball glasses when I’m ha
ving my liquor on the rocks. And I’m going to pour this one myself to help the bartender out.”

  “Sure”, the young man replied as he took a short glass from the table on his right and placed it on the bar in front of Jack.

  “This is a tough occasion,” Jack said.

  “Yes, it is,” the man replied curtly. “Are you associated with the production company?”

  “No. I’m a local. I’m a member of the Canoe Club and wanted to pay my respects to Mr. Reynolds, who did so much for Hawaii by filming his movie here on Oahu. Are you with the production company?”

  “I’m a member of the cast.”

  “Really?” What’s your name, so I’ll be able to say I met you when the movie comes out.”

  “Lance Forbes.”

  “Lance, I’m Jack Sullivan. It’s a pleasure to meet you.”

  “Nice to meet you, Mr. Sullivan.”

  “Please, call me Jack. I came out here to get away from stuffiness. I think of Mr. Sullivan as my father.”

  As Lance tried to get the bartender’s attention, Jack noticed a bulge in the pocket of his sport coat. It was rectangular but not large enough to be a wallet.

  “Say Lance, I forgot my cigarettes. You don’t by any chance smoke, do you?”

  “You’re in luck, Jack,” Lance said as he pulled a pack of Camels out of his sport coat pocket and offered Jack one.

  “I am in luck. Not only a cigarette but a real cigarette.”

  “The only kind I’ve smoked since I was ten,” Lance said as he turned away from Jack toward the bartender.

  “Lance, you’re a true American. Thanks for the cigarette and good luck with this movie. I’ll look for you in the credits,” Jack said as he poured Scotch into the glass, picked it up by the bottom, and walked away from the bar toward the entrance to the room where Dave was standing.

  “Stay right here and don’t say anything to Kulani or me when we walk back through here in a minute,” Jack said under his breath as he passed Dave.

  Jack walked briskly to his Jeep in front of the hotel and waved to Kulani, who promptly jumped out of the front passenger seat. Jack continued walking to the car, emptied the Scotch on the lawn, and then wrapped the short cocktail glass he had carried from the bar in a beach towel that lay on the back seat.

  “Kulani, I want you to walk into the Wailae Room behind me. Don’t act as if we know each other and don’t say a word to Dave McNeil, who is standing by the door. When you get into the room, there are going to be a lot of people. Look over toward the bar in the back of the room and see if you recognize anyone. If you do, just walk back out through the door and I’ll meet you there.”

  Jack walked into the lobby, turned to see that Kulani was not following too closely, and walked down the steps to the Wailae Room. He made eye contact with Dave McNeil, who nodded slightly to let Jack know that he saw Kulani coming. When Jack entered the room, his eyes flashed to the bar where, as he expected, Lance Forbes was still standing, smoking and talking to other members of the cast. Jack stood aside and watched Kulani enter the room, walk past him, stop, and then direct his gaze to the back of the room where the bar was located. Kulani’s brow furrowed. His eyes narrowed in a squint, and he walked farther through the crowd, obviously to get a closer look. To Jack, it seemed like an eternity had passed when, suddenly, Kulani turned on his heel and walked out of the room. Jack waited a discreet moment, checked to see whether Lance had noticed Kulani, and then followed him out of the room.

  “That’s him!” Kulani proclaimed.

  “Who?” Jack asked as Dave McNeil joined them.

  “The guy who ran me off the road.”

  “Which guy was it?”

  “The guy in the white coat and the pink shirt, smoking a cigarette by the bar. I’d know that look anywhere and now I know where I’ve seen him before.”

  “Where?”

  “At the bar in the Club on Monday night at the cast party. He sat there most of the evening with his back to me, but every once in a while I saw his face because, with the crowd, I had to hand him drinks to pass to waitresses.”

  “Are you sure?” Dave asked.

  “I’m positive.”

  “Okay, Kulani, why don’t you meet me back at the Jeep. Dave and I will take care of things here.”

  “Give me two minutes with that guy. That’s all I need.”

  “I know, but we’ve got something better in store for him that you’ll enjoy even more,” Jack said.

  “Okay. I’ll see you at the Jeep.”

  Jack turned to Dave as Kulani walked away.

  “I’ve got a short cocktail glass with this guy’s fingerprints on it in the back seat of my Jeep. His name is Lance Forbes, and he’s a member of the cast. If you give me about two minutes, I’ll get you a Camel cigarette butt this guy just smoked. Oh, and by the way, one of the librarians at the Bishop Museum told me that some guy logged in recently, asking to look at books on Hawaiian plants and customs. And a guy called one of Papa David’s fellow practitioners and asked him whether ‘Akia was a remedy for arthritis. After he told the guy it wouldn’t help his arthritis, he also told him to be careful not to come into contact with the ‘Akia that grows out in the field near Kailua, where I found the high-test stuff, because it was poisonous.”

  With that, Jack walked back into the Wailae Room to the bar where Lance was still holding court with several other members of the cast. Beside him on the table was an ashtray containing several Camel cigarette butts. No one else was smoking.

  “I couldn’t hit you up for another one of those Camels could I, Lance?”

  “Sure, Jack. These guys aren’t man enough to smoke them,” Lance said as he reached into his pocket for the pack of cigarettes. At the same time, Jack moved his long arm over the table and let his right hand dangle above the ashtray. When he was sure no one was looking, he reached in and snared a still- moist cigarette butt, enveloping it in his fist.

  “Thank you, Lance,” Jack said, accepting another Camel with his left hand. “And good luck again.”

  Jack walked through the increasingly loud and intoxicated crowd and met Dave at his post outside the Wailae Room.

  “Have you by any chance got a plastic evidence bag in your pocket? I’ve got some evidence for you that I’d like to get out of my possession and into yours.”

  “It just so happens, Detective Sullivan, that I brought several evidence bags along for the evening.”

  “Here is a still-wet Camel cigarette butt that I just retrieved from the ashtray on the table next to Lance Forbes, who was the only person in that group smoking, and who earlier gave me this - still unsmoked - Camel cigarette from the pack he took out of his sport coat pocket. He gave me this second unsmoked Camel a moment ago.”

  “I like a man who respects the integrity of the chain of custody of evidence.”

  “So do I, Dave, so let’s get to my fingerprint evidence before someone spoils it.”

  Jack took Dave to his Jeep, where Kulani was standing, reached into the back seat, and dropped the short cocktail glass into another plastic evidence bag that Dave held open.

  “I want to enter into another wager with you, Dave.”

  “What’s this one?”

  “When your crime scene lab technicians compare the fingerprints on this glass to some of the prints they lifted from the Ford Taurus, they’ll find a match. And when your DNA guys compare the saliva from the Camel I just took from the ashtray with the saliva from the Camel that I found under the bush out in the field at Kailua, and with the saliva from the Camel your guys found in the ashtray of the Ford Taurus, they will conclude that they all came from the same person, namely, Lance Forbes.

  “And when the librarian at the Bishop Museum gets a look at Lance Forbes in a lineup, I bet she’ll say he’s the man who, recently, consulted books on Hawaiian plants and culture. And when Papa David’s fellow herbal medicine practitioner hears Lance Forbes’ voice, I bet he’ll identify it as the person who called him and asked whether
‘Akia could be used as a treatment for arthritis.”

  “I wouldn’t be a bit surprised,” Dave said with a smile.

  “Now why, my good man, would you not be surprised if all this were to occur?”

  “Because I had a very productive conversation with Mrs. Reynolds earlier this evening. And, by the way, she’s a very impressive lady.”

  “Yes, and I assume you learned that she has been seeing one Lance Forbes?”

  “As a matter of fact, I did. But I also asked some other questions, including the ones you specifically asked me to pose to her about the screenplay for the movie where the victim was poisoned with ‘Akia.”

  “And she admitted that she’d read it, right?”

  “She did. She told me that she regularly reviewed all of the screenplays that were submitted to Derek and that he consulted her on every choice he made. And he usually went with her recommendation, except on this one, which made Loretta really mad. She knew Derek rejected it solely because it didn’t have a role that would showcase Hypatia.”

  “Did she come right out and tell you that or did you have to pull it out of her?”

  “She was quite forthcoming. So forthcoming that she told me right off the bat who else reviewed that screenplay after she read it and who agreed with her assessment.”

  “Who was that?”

  “The young actor she was dating in retaliation for Derek pursuing Hypatia Adams. Lance Forbes.”

  “That’s it, Dave. You’ve got it. I mean you got him.”

  “We got him, Jack. And, by the way, there’s more. You want some motive?”

  “I do.”

  “Loretta was furious when Derek made a public spectacle of his pursuit of Hypatia. And yet she had lived through his philandering before, so it wasn’t completely new to her. She was always comforted by the fact that she was an intellectual as well as financial partner in Derek’s business. He really did rely on her judgment before he chose screenplays, and she never picked a bad one. But when Derek rejected the Hitchcock-type mystery she had recommended and selected the B-rate movie they’re filming here, she flipped out and felt she was losing the last vestige of her marriage that meant anything to her. She was a mess according to her own description.”