Hollywood Prisoner: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller Read online

  “Well, get fucking unstressed.” Edna looked at Darby. “You wanna tell them?”

  “The Slayer case is going to Markley and Waters. Section One is out.”

  My laughter of a minute earlier now seemed like ancient history. Even though Leo had warned me about this, I felt my anger surfacing.

  “This is wrong,” I said to Edna. “We’ve got multiple victims, including one of our own, and…”

  The lieutenant held up a hand. “Don’t you think I know that? The decision came from on high.” His eyes bore into me. “You might also be interested to know that Horton and Braden have been moved to the PAB, along with the investigation into the attack on you and your father’s old murder case.”

  The PAB was the Police Administrative Building.

  “Why is that?” I asked.

  “It’s been deemed a special interest case.”

  “I’ve never heard of such a thing.”

  “It’s Chief Dunbar’s new baby. He wants to keep certain cases close to administration.”

  “Cases that might cause him problems. He’s just trying to keep me out of it.”

  “It’s the right call,” Mel said. “You’re too close to it with it being at the division level.”

  My eyes bore into her. “I don’t recall anyone asking for your opinion.”

  “If I have an opinion, I’m going to express…”

  “Enough!” Edna barked. “These decisions have been made. We’re moving on.” He looked at our crime analysts, Selfie Rogers and Molly Wingate. “Let’s talk about Turner.”

  While I did a slow burn, Selfie, the younger of our two analysts, who had a fondness for different hair colors and piercings, began laying out our new case.

  “Campbell Turner, an actress on the soap opera Stolen Desires, was found beaten to death on her living room floor last night,” Selfie said, tucking a strand of blue hair behind one ear. “She was found by Blake Lambert, her boyfriend, who’s also an actor. Lambert said that Luke Morgan, a stagehand that Campbell worked with on her set, was in the home when he arrived and came after him with the hammer used on Campbell. He said he had a gun that he always carried, confronted Morgan, and shot him when he came after him. Selfie looked at her counterpart. “Molly has the 911 tape and some photos of the crime scene.”

  Molly used a remote to activate one of the overhead monitors. “I’ll put up some still shots, as well as some video taken last night by the responding detectives, while I play the audio.”

  In a moment, we saw the bloody photographs of the crime scene and heard the recording of the dispatcher’s voice.

  “911, what is your emergency?”

  “My girlfriend…she’s…” The man’s voice, who I assumed was Blake Lambert, trailed off as he broke down crying.

  “She’s what?”

  “She’s been killed…oh, God…I need help. Please!”

  After the dispatcher confirmed the address and Lambert said the victim wasn’t breathing, she asked him what happened. It took him several seconds to respond. “I…I got here a few minutes ago and found her…there was a man with a hammer who attacked her. He came after me and I had to shoot him.”

  Lambert went on in fits of starts and stops, telling the dispatcher that the intruder was Luke Morgan, who worked at Klondike Studios, where his girlfriend’s TV show was filmed. He said that Morgan had been stalking Campbell in recent weeks. The audio went on with Lambert breaking down several times until the responding officers arrived at the scene.

  “As you can see from the photographs, our victim suffered multiple blows from the hammer,” Selfie said.

  “The autopsy?” Edna asked.

  “Pending. Not sure if it’s been scheduled yet.”

  “This is more video of the crime scene,” Molly said, activating another monitor.

  We saw images of the body, with a trail of blood behind it. It looked like Campbell Turner had been chased as she’d suffered multiple hammer blows before succumbing. There were numerous blunt force injuries to her head.

  The camera swung around, and we now saw images of Luke Morgan’s body on the floor about ten feet from Turner. There was a gun near the body that I assumed was Lambert’s.

  “According to the responding officers,” Molly said, “Morgan suffered two gunshot wounds, one to the upper torso and one to the head.” The camera panned around in another direction, and we saw a man sitting in a chair. Molly added, “That’s Blake Lambert. As Selfie mentioned, he’s also an actor. He’s had some walk-on roles in TV shows and has done a few commercials.”

  Lambert’s face was puffy and red. It was apparent that he’d been crying. Molly mentioned that he was thirty-four years of age, he lived in North Hollywood, and was divorced.

  “What do we know about Luke Morgan?” Leo asked, after the overhead monitors were turned off.

  Molly answered. “He was twenty-nine, lived with his parents. He had a history of drug use and mental illness. His mother said he was bipolar, but that he was never violent. She said Luke did handyman work, and speculated he might have gone by Campbell’s place to give her a quote. She doesn’t believe he murdered Campbell.”

  “But he was infatuated with her,” Darby said, apparently already familiar with the details of the case.

  “Mom said he sent Campbell flowers a couple of weeks ago on her thirtieth birthday as a thank-you for her kindness to him. She said her son always talked fondly about her, but she didn’t think there was any kind of stalking going on like Lambert said.”

  “So we’ve got a mentally ill stagehand who becomes infatuated with our victim,” Mel said, playing out a scenario. “He sends flowers to her, then comes by her house. Something happens between them, maybe she rebuffs his advances, and he bludgeons her to death with a hammer. The victim’s boyfriend comes by, finds her murdered, and shoots Morgan when he turns on him. It sounds pretty cut and dried to me.”

  “What do we know about the murder weapon?” I asked our crime analysts.

  “It belonged to Lambert,” Selfie said. “He said he left it in Campbell’s garage with his toolbox when he’d repaired her fence a few weeks earlier. The hammer was a gift from his father when he was a boy and had his initials engraved on it.”

  “And the gun?”

  “As you saw from the video, it was found on the floor a few feet from Morgan’s body. It was unregistered. Lambert said he always carried it for protection, even though he didn’t have a permit.”

  “Why is this case coming to Section One?” I asked Edna.

  “Campbell Turner’s father is Jimmy Castello.”

  “Who?”

  “The TV detective,” Darby said.

  “Used to be,” Edna corrected.

  “I always thought that guy looked like he should be a member of the mafia, instead of a detective,” Darby said.

  “Detective Skip Conrad, NYPD’s best and baddest,” Leo told him.

  I now remembered seeing the TV show a few times. Castello had created a TV character that had won national acclaim a few years back. He was a no-nonsense, tough-talking cop, who solved what seemed like impossible cases. It was nothing like real life police work, but the role had made him famous.

  “Castello’s been working our new chief and the media,” Edna said. “He wants to be sure Morgan is good for the crime and that everything’s tied up in a neat little bow. Campbell was his only child.”

  “I saw one of those TV documentaries about Castello a few years ago,” Molly said. “Campbell was on the program when she was a little girl. She was very sweet. I’m sure her father is devastated.”

  “From what I’ve been able to determine, Campbell hadn’t changed much,” Selfie added. “Everybody says she was very kind and generous. There was even talk about her moving on from the soaps to some major roles.”

  Edna shuffled some paperwork and glanced at his phone. “Anything else?” he asked, looking back at his crime analysts.

  “I just got a text,” Selfie said. “The autopsy o
n both victims is scheduled for this afternoon. Brie’s expecting us to be there at three.”

  “Alright, let’s get after this,” Edna said, levelling his eyes on the four of us. “And, for once, let’s all find a way to work together. The jury’s still out on the future of Section One with Chief Dunbar. Don’t fuck this up.”

  TWENTY-ONE

  “Let’s start with interviewing Blake Lambert,” Leo said, after Lieutenant Edna had left for a meeting, and our crime analysts had gone back to their desks.

  “We’ve already got his statement to the responding officers,” Darby said. “I say we talk to Turner’s father first. It’s going to score us PR points with the chief and the press.”

  “Agreed,” Mel said. “This investigation is as much about saving Section One as it is about solving this case.”

  I glanced at Leo and bit my tongue. While I liked working the high profile cases in Section One, finding justice for Campbell Turner was our first priority. Even so, I decided to play nice with our coworkers and let them call the shots—for now.

  “Okay,” I said, still looking at Leo and raising my brows.

  “Make the call and set it up,” Leo said to Darby. “Kate and I will follow you both over there.”

  An hour later, Leo and I were on the freeway, behind Darby and Mel, on our way to see Jimmy Castello in Glendale. As I lowered a rear window a couple inches for Bernie to get some air, I said to Leo, “Ever wonder how we got so lucky as to get partnered with Darby and Mel?”

  Leo smiled. “I guess it’s just a case of bad karma.”

  “I seem to have a lot of that lately.”

  Leo’s eyes held on me for a moment. “How are you doing with everything?”

  I exhaled, meeting his eyes for an instant. “To tell you the truth, it’s been a difficult few days, and I’m more than a little frustrated with the department. Calling my father’s homicide a ‘special interest case’ and moving it to administration will make it nothing but an open cold case. And, it feels like a payback to me.”

  “A payback?”

  “For me using the threat to expose Dunbar’s past indiscretions in Vice to keep Bernie on the job.” I glanced back at him. “Did we ever get the warrant reissued to search Harlee Ryland’s estate?”

  “It came through the day after you left, but nothing turned up.”

  “What a surprise.”

  “As you can imagine, Harlee was less than thrilled about it. She also asked about you.”

  “What did you tell her?”

  “Just that you were working another case.” Leo’s gaze swung over in my direction as he turned off the freeway. “I don’t think she’s someone we should take lightly.”

  “According to Natalie and Mo, she’s hooking up with Brett Denver.

  “The actor?”

  “Yeah, and, according to them, Denver’s has been a Tauist for several years. Nothing good can come of their relationship.”

  “I’ll pass the word along to Woody and Harry.”

  “I don’t suppose you’ve heard anything on Pearl?”

  Leo shook his head. “I even called his sister again. She hasn’t heard from him and is as worried as we are. All we can do is hope he’s lying low for a reason and will eventually surface.”

  Jimmy Castello lived in the hills between Glendale and Pasadena. The neighborhood consisted of sprawling older well-kept homes on large lots. I knew, from glancing at the real estate section of the LA Times, that the neighborhood was expensive, with homes in the three-million-dollar range.

  Castello met us at his front door, where we made introductions, before he led us into a den. The home was cluttered, and I had the sense that he lived alone. The actor looked about the same as the famous TV character he created a decade earlier, maybe just a little grayer at the temples. He was heavyset, with a jowly face and receding hairline. Darby’s earlier comment about Castello’s physical appearance reminding him of a mobster didn’t seem far off base.

  After we took seats and offered condolences, we got down to business. Leo and I let Darby and Mel take the lead in questioning him.

  “Can you tell us, when was the last time you talked to your daughter?” Darby asked.

  After a heavy breath, Castello said, “Night before she died. We talked every couple of days.” He sniffed. “We were pretty close.”

  “Did she ever mention having any trouble with Luke Morgan?” Mel asked.

  He shook his head. “Never heard of him until…everything happened.”

  “Did she express any concerns about her safety or indicate he or anyone else was bothering her?” Darby asked.

  After a headshake, Castello took a moment, then said, “Let’s cut to the chase. I know that Blake Lambert said this Morgan asshole was after my daughter. I also know about his statement that he came home and found…” He cleared his throat. “…he found Campbell dead and he shot Morgan when he came after him with the hammer. I want all the facts run down so there’s no doubt that it went down exactly as he said.”

  “We’ll make sure we do a thorough investigation,” Mel said, giving the party line that she was taught in MRS.

  I glanced at Leo, the skin on my brow tightening. I then looked back at Castello. “It sounds like you have some doubts that the crime went down as Lambert reported it.”

  “I’m not a cop, Detective, but I played one for several years. I know things often go different than they’re reported. All I’m saying is that I want to know the truth—all of it. I need to know exactly what happened and why.”

  “What can you tell us about your daughter and Lambert’s relationship?” Leo asked.

  Castello shrugged. “Not much. I know Campbell said she loved him, but…”

  When he didn’t go on, I asked, “Were there problems in their relationship?”

  “I can’t say. All I know is that I’m a pretty good judge of people, and something’s off about Lambert.”

  “Off? What exactly do you mean?”

  “Like I said, Campbell loved the guy, so I respected that and supported her decision to see him. That doesn’t mean I have to like him. The guy seemed like a user to me.”

  “Do you think he was cheating on Campbell?” Leo asked.

  “I can’t say for sure, but it wouldn’t surprise me. Like I said, I want to be sure what happened to my daughter is thoroughly investigated. I don’t want there to be any doubt about Morgan’s guilt. And, if Lambert had anything to do with it, I want him to pay for it with his life.”

  “Do you think he’s capable of violence?” Mel asked him, maybe doubting her earlier scenario for the first time.

  “Yeah. We had words a time or two and I know the guy’s got a temper.”

  “Words about what?” Darby asked.

  “He wanted to borrow some money from me for some kind of play he wanted to produce. I told him I wasn’t a bank, and he went away unhappy.”

  “Did Campbell ever express concerns about her physical safety around him?” I asked.

  Castello shook his head. “No, but...like I said, she was in love with the guy, and we all know love is blind.”

  We spent another half hour with our victim’s father. In the short time that we were together, I decided Jimmy Castello was in many ways like Skip Conrad, his TV character. He seemed honest, forthright, and wanted all the facts before he came to a conclusion. He was also straightforward about his dislike of Blake Lambert. While he might have never been a real cop, those were all the characteristics of a real detective. I decided to keep what he said about Lambert in mind as we investigated the case.

  Castello was showing us out when we stopped where there were some photographs from his TV show on a wall. He pointed out Campbell in one of the photos from when she’d visited the set.

  “Seems like it was only yesterday that she was a teenager,” he said with a sigh. For the first time, I saw there were tears in his eyes. “I can’t believe she’s gone.”

  “What about her mother?” I asked. “Is she in
the picture?”

  “We were divorced when Campbell was in middle school. Victoria lives over in Brentwood. I’m sure you’re going to want to talk to her. She and Campbell were never close, even though Victoria insisted that she take her maiden name when we separated.”

  Mel got his ex-wife’s address and phone number.

  I held on Castello’s misty eyes for a moment when we were at the door. “I’m truly sorry about your daughter. Everyone says she was a lovely girl.”

  I saw the sheen of water in his eyes grow heavier as Castello said, “The only thing you can do to make it better, Detective, is to find out the truth about exactly what happened to her. That’s all I ask.”

  TWENTY-TWO

  After leaving Jimmy Castello, Mel made contact with his ex-wife, Victoria Turner. She made arrangements for us to go by her home in Brentwood, a neighborhood that was a few minutes from Hollywood. Turner answered her door and showed us into their living room, where she introduced us to her boyfriend, Darrin Stone.

  “I hope you have some answers,” Turner said, after we all took seats. “My life has been a living nightmare since...” She teared up and didn’t go on.

  Stone went over and put an arm around her. “Sorry. It’s been a difficult few days.”

  Mel expressed her condolences and gave them a moment to regain some composure.

  Victoria Turner bore a strong resemblance to her daughter. She was tall, with dark hair and green eyes. Her high cheekbones and full lips made me wonder if she’d been an actress at one time, like her daughter.

  Turner’s boyfriend looked much older than her, maybe pushing into his sixties. He was tanned, with a shaved head, and wore a pair of silver earrings, not my favorite look for a man his age.

  “Let’s talk about your daughter’s relationship with Blake Lambert,” Mel said after giving them some time. “Were they having any problems?”

  Turner dabbed her nose with a tissue. “Why are you asking that? I was under the impression that handyman killed my daughter.”

  Mel’s response was firm and to the point. “It’s our job to investigate all aspects of what happened so that we have all the facts. Tell us about Campbell and Blake.”