Hollywood Games: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller Page 21

  I sighed. From prior experience, I knew what they had in mind could take several days. And if news had leaked out about the reason for their search it would only add to the media circus.

  Dr. Lester waddled over to me and rubbed his hands together. “I knew I was right about Van Drake. You never should have doubted me.”

  I wasn’t about to tell him that the blood on the knife belonged to Bridget Welch. I looked at both him and Claude. “Did you two call the press?”

  “Of course not,” Claude said, cutting his dead vampire eyes over to Lester and then back to me. “We have more integrity than that.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Maybe me and Natalie can help with the investigation,” Mo said to Woodley and Duncan, after she and Natalie came over. “We’re trained investigators.”

  “I know where there’s a shovel if you want me to go dig up the body,” Natalie said. “Might need some help though.” She looked over at Larry and Phyllis.

  “Let us know what we can do,” Larry said.

  Phyllis had something else on his mind. “Just so you know, those folks from the south are back, talking to the press out front.”

  I blew out a lungful of air and said the only intelligent thing I could think of under the circumstances. “I’m going to go shoot myself.”

  I didn’t shoot myself; instead I got Bernie’s leash, gathered up my belongings, and we headed for my car. When I got to the driveway I overheard Fred and Berta giving one of the reporters an interview.

  “These people are all squatters,” Fred said. “They’ve got no business living in our house.”

  “Our attorney is planning to sue, throw them out on the street,” Berta added.

  I thought about going over and giving them a piece of my mind when I heard a familiar voice calling to me. “I don’t suppose you’d care to make a statement?”

  I saw that the reporter, Basheeba, was standing at the curb away from the throng of other reporters. I felt like I at least owed her a polite no comment and walked over. “I’m not sure what you’ve heard about this, but it’s a police matter so I can’t tell you anything.”

  She smiled and motioned for me to move farther away from the gathering. “It’s okay. We already know the investigation has to do with Bridget Welch. Rumor has it that her body’s buried on the grounds.”

  I had no idea how she’d heard about Welch but said, “Then you already know more than me.”

  “I understand there’s still no word on Rafi Wayland’s whereabouts,” she said, changing the subject.

  I saw no reason to deny what she said. “The feds are still actively looking for him.”

  She met my eyes. “How would you respond if I told you I might be able to locate him and set up an interview?”

  “I’d say if that was the case I’d have to arrest him.”

  She smiled. “I thought you’d say that.”

  “Do you know where he is?”

  She shook her head, ran a hand through her dark curls. “Not exactly but as you know I do have sources.” She smiled. “I’ll be in touch.”

  ***

  Pearl and I left the station at mid-morning to talk to Jiggy’s brother, Bobby. Harvey had gone with Gooch and Glade to question Vivian Bundt about being involved in her husband’s murder. If my new partner was right about his suspicions, arresting Vivian Bundt would be a huge accomplishment and help him overcome his rocky start in homicide.

  As we drove, I told Pearl about the media feeding frenzy at my house. “When I left several TV helicopters were also circling overhead. I’m not sure if our lives will ever return to normal.”

  “From my experience, the press has the attention span of a two-year-old child. Give it a day or two and maybe they’ll move onto something else.”

  “I hope you’re right.” I then changed the subject. “After we talk to Bobby, I think it’s time we had another chat with Barry Steiner. If he knew Biggs was having an affair with his wife, that, along with the money Biggs owed him, might be sufficient motive for the murder.”

  “I confirmed with the Bellagio that he was there the day Biggs was shot, so if he was involved he had someone else pull the trigger.”

  “A guy like Steiner would have all the money and necessary resources to put out a hit on Biggs.” The show Steiner produced, Hollywood Gold, came to mind. “Gloria Powers is also still on my list. She withheld the fact that she’d been in a relationship with our victim.”

  “I had Gooch and Glade follow her last night. Let’s ask them later if they turned up anything interesting.”

  Bobby Webster lived in a small house in Studio City, a few minutes from Hollywood. Bernie and I stood next to Pearl as he rang the bell. After a couple of tries, no one answered.

  “Are you looking for Bobby?” a woman asked from the sidewalk. I turned and saw that she had a baby stroller.

  “Yes,” I said, walking over to her. “Do you know him?”

  She nodded. “We live across the street. My husband calls him Bear because of his size, but we haven’t seen him in a couple of days.” Her gaze had wandered to the Badge on Bernie’s collar. “Is he in some kind of trouble?”

  “No, we just need to talk to him about his brother.”

  “Jiggy?” I nodded. “It’s a shame what happened to him. I loved his TV show. Bobby was pretty upset about everything, said he was going to find whoever killed him.”

  I thanked her and walked back over to Pearl at the same time Bernie began to whine. Sometimes my big dog’s high pitched wail is a warning that something’s amiss. Other times it’s just his way of showing concern.

  “Maybe we should go around back, look in a window,” Pearl suggested.

  I agreed. Bernie and I followed him through a side gate. Pearl tried a back door to the house and found that it was unlocked. He opened the door and called out, not getting an answer.

  He unholstered his weapon and said, “I’m going to check things out.”

  I found the gun in my purse and followed him in with Bernie, who continued his soft whine.

  Our search for Bobby Webster ended in the master bedroom. His massive body was up against a wall that was streaked red with blood. I had the impression that in the last moments of his life he’d backed away from his assailant and had fallen against the wall.

  I put my gun back in my purse and said to Pearl, “Any thoughts?”

  Pearl holstered his weapon and looked at me. “I’ve got a feeling that whoever did this to Bobby also killed his brother.”

  My phone rang. I saw that the call was from Harvey. My partner’s voice was pitched high with excitement. “We just closed the Bundt murder. His wife admitted that she shot him; and, guess what?”

  “I’m all out of guesses for the day, just tell me what you know.”

  “Vivian Bundt was behind the blackmail scheme. She was the sex spy.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

  Bernie and I got home after one in the morning. We’d spent most of the evening interviewing Vivian Bundt. She admitting devising a plan to kill her husband and frame Marcel Frost for the crime after George had said he was through participating in her sex video blackmail scheme. She’d used a gate key that her husband had stolen to enter Sunset Studios. Vivian admitted that she’d shot her husband in the back near the equipment trailer where his body had been found.

  They’d been operating their side business for over two years and she gave us a list of every subject they’d extorted money from, including Kristi Steiner and Gloria Powers. She said they’d also tried blackmailing Jiggy Biggs, but he didn’t respond to their many threats to release the videos, so they’d moved on to the women with whom he was involved.

  We asked her if any of the women had a reason to kill Biggs. She said that she was sure they were all angry about the videos, but didn’t know if they’d blamed the deceased realtor.

  “We couldn’t sleep,” Mo said as I placed my briefcase on the coffee table and took a seat next to her and Natalie. They were both
wearing robes. I heard voices in the kitchen and realized it was Larry and Phyllis. She went on, “The plumber finished up with the water leak and Claude and Lester are back in the basement gloating about solving Bridget Welch’s murder.”

  “How do they know about Welch?” I asked, yawning.

  “It’s been all over the telly,” Natalie said. “The reporters are speculating that Van Drake whacked her and buried her on the grounds.”

  I now remembered that Basheeba had known about the actress’ blood being on the knife. I hadn’t had a chance to check the papers or watch the news.

  “Your copper buddies were here most of the day,” Natalie said. “They took every box in the secret room where Dr. Lester was working. He’s not happy ‘bout it.”

  “That’s too bad,” I said. “It’s all evidence.” I realized Lindsay wasn’t there and asked about her. I was told that she was out with Eli.

  “The boys, me, and baby sis are gonna have a look around the grounds tomorrow,” Mo said. “If that actress is buried here, maybe it’s her ghost who’s been haunting us.”

  I warned her to stay out of things, even though I knew it was a waste of time. “You can’t go digging up the grounds. This is a police matter.”

  She ignored me and motioned to Larry and Phyllis who’d come over from the kitchen. “The boys are gonna stay in the house till we get things cleared up.”

  Phyllis said in his deep voice, “I heard Bobby Webster was found murdered today.”

  I confirmed what I knew because Lieutenant Edna had mentioned that MRS had notified the media of Biggs’ brother’s death. “He was shot, just like his brother.”

  “I was a big fan of Jiggy’s,” Larry said. “EZ on Down was my favorite.”

  I’d never heard of the song. Phyllis apparently saw my blank expression and filled me in. “It was an anti-drug tribute rap about the violence and hardship of growing up in the inner city. I think it was produced by that gang leader they’re trying to find.”

  “Rafi Wayland?”

  He nodded. I found it interesting that Wayland had produced an anti-drug song and wondered if we’d missed something involving Biggs’ connection to the hip hop scene. Phyllis’ older brother then interrupted my thoughts.

  “I almost forgot something,” Larry said. “A woman came snooping around the grounds today.”

  “What did she say?”

  “She just asked a bunch of stuff about who lived here and why all the cops and reporters were out front. I think maybe she was a reporter.”

  A reporter named Haley Tristan came to mind as Mo stood up and said, “Did you all hear that?” My hefty friend cocked her head slightly to one side, listening. “It sounds so me like a woman’s yelling and she’s not happy.”

  The room grew silent until we all heard the woman’s voice. She then began screaming. Bernie came up to his feet, his ears pointing straight up.

  “It sounds like it’s coming from the basement,” I said.

  We all rushed downstairs where we found both Claude and Dr. Lester in Van Drake’s secret room. I noticed that the shelves were all empty, but Lester had a single box on the table. There were several cassette tapes of the variety that were popular several years ago stacked next to the box.

  “It’s Bridget Welch,” Lester said, turning down the volume and looking at us. “I have absolute proof that she and Van Drake were in a heated argument.”

  The ancient little man turned the knob on his recorder and we heard the woman’s voice again as she argued with a man. There were several swear words exchanged before the woman screamed, “I’m going to go to the authorities, tell them everything.” The man then said, “You will do nothing of the kind.” After that there was more screaming before the recording ended.

  “Where did you get the tapes?” I asked Lester.

  “It’s part of my private collection.” He smiled and ran a hand over his hairless scalp. “There are a few things the police didn’t get.”

  I stepped forward, scooped up the tapes and recorder, and put everything in the box. “This is police evidence. If you’ve got anything else I need to know where it is.”

  Lester looked over at Claude. “I told you she couldn’t be trusted.”

  “It’s the only box that was left behind,” Claude said, his eyes darting away from me. “There’s nothing else.”

  I didn’t believe a word he was saying, but was too tired to argue. “I’ll deliver this to the cold case detectives in the morning.”

  A half hour later I’d walked Bernie and gotten ready for bed. My thoughts then drifted to what Larry and his brother had said about Rafi Wayland producing Biggs’ anti-drug rap song. Wayland and Biggs wouldn’t be the first guys to say they were against drugs when they weren’t, but I felt like maybe we’d missed something, both on Biggs’ murder and the drug dealing. I just wasn’t sure what that something was. I decided that I needed to discuss the issue with the lieutenant in the morning.

  Before turning off the light, I picked up my phone and thought about calling Buck, but at the last minute changed my mind. He’d told me that he needed a few days to sort through things and I decided to give him some more time.

  I turned off the light and pulled the covers up. I couldn’t help but think about Buck’s ex-wife. Just before I drifted off to sleep, I remembered Larry telling me that a woman had shown up today and was asking questions. He’d said he thought she might be a reporter, but another thought now came to mind. Could she have been Buck’s ex? I tried to dismiss the thought, hunkered down into the bed, and drifted off into a fitful sleep.

  CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

  “According to Viv the voyeur, Biggs was a sex addict who hooked up with anyone who crossed his path, including Kristi Steiner and Gloria Powers,” Kyle Gooch said to the lieutenant. We were in the Hollywood Station conference room the next day, updating Edna on everything. I hadn’t slept well and was nursing a headache.

  Gooch continued, “By the way, my bro and me think Gloria was the blow job babe servicing Biggs dead brother, Bobby.”

  “How can you tell it was her?” I asked.

  “We took a closer look at the video,” Eric Glade said. “It’s Gloria’s head, giving head.”

  “I’m also pretty sure it’s her,” Harvey agreed. “The hairstyle and color matches Powers.”

  “So the realtor was blowing both brothers, what’s that prove?” Edna said.

  Harvey shrugged. “I’m not sure at this point.”

  Gooch said, “At Papa Pearl’s request my bro and me followed Gloria last night but didn’t come up with much.”

  Edna looked at Pearl, his gray brows inching up.

  “Just playing a hunch,” Pearl said. “I think we should give it a couple of more nights and see what we get.”

  Edna nodded. “I talked to the captain a couple of hours ago. There’s nothing’s new on Wayland, so let’s concentrate on nailing down who murdered Biggs. Once we do that, maybe some of the other pieces about his drug connections will fall into place.”

  “In order to do that, we still need to work the gang angle,” I said.

  Edna went off on me for a moment, telling me that we were working a murder investigation not a drug case, before Pearl’s gentle wisdom prevailed. “I think there’s a link between the two cases. We need some inside information on what’s been happening with Blood Nation and how their drug dealing ties into what happened to Biggs. Remember that kid, Jessie Qualls, we popped a couple of months ago for assault?”

  “Yeah, the bar fight that almost turned into a riot,” Edna said.

  “JQ’s a jumped in Blood Nation gang member and he’s still in jail, pending trial. Suppose we offer him a deal. We get the DA to let him plead guilty with credit for time served. Then we put him back on the streets under the condition that he finds out about Wayland’s involvement in the heroin trade and if he, in fact, was behind Biggs’ murder.”

  Edna expressed some reservations about what Pearl proposed, but eventually agreed to
the arrangement. He then added, “I also want you two to go back to Barry Steiner today. We know his wife was screwing our victim and Biggs owed him almost a million dollars. Maybe Steiner snapped and hired the hit.”

  After the others left, Edna asked me to stay behind for a minute. “Good work with Harrison or Gluck or whatever the fuck his name is,” Edna said. “He might make it after all.”

  “Thanks, but the hunch on Vivian Bundt was all his doing. I think he’s got some good instincts.”

  Edna changed the subject. “I want to update you on the cold case investigation going on at your place. I talked to John Duncan this morning. He thinks Bridget Welch could have been murdered by Van Drake.”

  I nodded. “I found a box of audio tapes last night that I sent over to him. From what I heard, it sounded like she and Van Drake were in a heated argument at some point in the past.”

  “Since you live there, Captain Decker wants you included in the investigation.” I started to protest about my workload, but he cut me off. “It shouldn’t require much, other than getting updates on the case and coordinating a few things.” Edna smiled, a rare event. “But if you happen to find the actress’ body in your basement, be sure to let Duncan know.”

  I stood up and tugged on Bernie’s leash. “Of course, but just so you know I’ve already got a full house in the basement.”

  ***

  Pearl and I stopped at Men’s Central Jail on the way to meet with Barry Steiner. Jessie Qualls, or JQ as he was known, was housed on the same floor where Jerry King had been in protective custody. The gang banger was twenty-three, rail thin, and full of attitude.

  “What ya’ll want with me?” JQ asked. His gaze bounced off Pearl and then found me. He smiled, exposing crooked teeth. “Or maybe I should say this is my lucky day.”

  “It could be,” Pearl said. “If you decide you want to help us out.”

  He found Pearl’s eyes again and shook his head. “I ain’t no snitch. Get somebody else.”

  Pearl shrugged. “It’s your choice. You can sit here and then in state prison, serving the high term for assault. Or maybe there’s another way past your troubles.”