Hollywood Prisoner: A Hollywood Alphabet Series Thriller Read online

  “I don’t know really what to say. They met in college. I think they were together for a couple of years. I don’t know about any problems.”

  “Were you and your daughter close?” Mel asked, picking up on what Castello had told us earlier.

  “I don’t know how you would describe our relationship. We talked on the phone, went to lunch occasionally.” She drew in a breath and released it slowly. “My daughter was a private person, so she didn’t share much in the way of personal details about her life.”

  “What about Luke Morgan?” Darby asked. “Were they having an affair?”

  Victoria Turner’s pretty features hardened. She looked at Mel. “Is that what you think happened?”

  “We don’t know,” Mel said, glaring at her partner. She looked back at Turner. “Since Morgan worked as a stagehand at the studio where your daughter’s show was taped, and he was at her house, we’re just asking about their relationship.”

  “I don’t think they had a relationship. From what the officers told me after it happened, he was there to do some work on her house.” Turner looked at Stone and shook her head.

  “What about other relationships? Friends? Old boyfriends?” Leo asked. “Is there anyone either of you can think of who might have had problems with Campbell?”

  “You’re acting like somebody other than that Morgan asshole did it,” Darrin Stone said, speaking up for the first time. “I don’t understand.”

  Leo kept his deep voice even. “Like Detective Peters said, we’re just covering all the bases, looking at any possibilities.”

  Turner met her boyfriend’s eyes for a moment, then said, “Nobody comes to mind.”

  Stone gave us a headshake. “Campbell was the sweetest girl I’ve ever known. She didn’t have any enemies or problems with anyone that I know about.”

  “Let’s go back to Blake Lambert for a moment,” I said to Turner. “Your ex-husband describes him as a user. He doesn’t like him very much.”

  She chuckled, her voice full of sarcasm. “Jimmy said that, really?” She glanced at Stone, then looked back at me. “My ex-husband is a very different person than the one you see on TV. He doesn’t really like anyone.”

  I played dumb. “Did he and Lambert have some issues between them?”

  She shrugged. “Jimmy never thought anyone was good enough for Campbell. I’m sure Blake didn’t measure up either.”

  We spent another half hour with Turner and Stone, going over Campbell’s friends, relatives, and acquaintances, but not getting much back, before meeting up on the street in front of their house.

  “I can understand Castello having issues with Campbell’s boyfriend and him wanting all the facts,” Darby said, “but this crime looks pretty cut and dried to me. I think it went down as Lambert reported it.”

  “I agree,” Mel said. “We’re just going through the motions to make sure Castello’s satisfied.”

  “Let’s go talk to Lambert before we draw any conclusions,” Leo said. “I feel like we started this investigation backward.”

  “What’s that supposed to mean?” Darby demanded.

  “It means that a key player in the case hasn’t been questioned by us yet.”

  “Did you think we weren’t going to talk to Lambert?” Mel asked. “Talking to Castello first was about doing a little PR, making sure he understands we’re on the case and that we’re going to be thorough.”

  “PR will only get us so far,” I said, trying to conceal my frustration with her and Darby. “Let’s go talk to Lambert.”

  Blake Lambert was working for a small studio in Hollywood called Zorch Productions. When Leo called the actor, Lambert explained that he was staying in one of the trailers on the set. We met with him on the studio’s back lot later that afternoon.

  Following introductions, and after we all took seats on a small patio adjacent to his trailer, Lambert broke down crying. Leo, who had the demeanor and compassion of a patient grandfather, told the actor to take his time composing himself.

  “I can’t believe she’s gone,” Lambert said a couple minutes later, brushing a stream of water from him eyes. “This can’t be happening.”

  I remembered from the background information Molly had pulled together that Blake Lambert was thirty-four and had a prior marriage. He was about five-eight, a bit on the pudgy side, and lacking the classic good looks of many actors. While Campbell’s career was taking off, Molly had told us that Lambert only worked sporadically. I wondered if there were issues between him and Campbell because of her success.

  “I’m sorry,” Leo said, lowering his voice. He gave Lambert another moment, then said, “Can you walk us through what happened last night?”

  “I already told the other officers everything.”

  Leo nodded. “We know, son, but we’ve been assigned to take a look at things. Just take your time and tell us what you remember.”

  The actor took another minute and a couple deep breaths before beginning. “I got off work around five last night and went by Campbell’s house. When I got there, a truck was parked out front. I didn’t think anything about it until I got inside.” Lambert put his elbows on his thighs, bowed his head, and ran his hands through his dark hair. “I had a remote control that Campbell had given me and went in through the garage. I found…” He took a breath, tearing up again. “...she was on the floor.”

  “Where in the house was her body?” Leo asked.

  “The living room. I knew right away…” There were more tears. “…there was blood everywhere. I knew she wasn’t breathing.”

  “Did you touch her body?”

  Lambert shook his head. “She was gone.” He wept softly.

  After a moment, Leo said, “What happened next?”

  “I looked over and realized that guy Campbell worked with was in the house, so I pulled out the gun I always carry. He then came at me with my hammer.”

  “Where exactly was Morgan standing when you first saw him?”

  “In the living room…about ten feet from…from Campbell.”

  “Did he say anything to you?”

  “He mumbled something about…he said Campbell deserved what she got.”

  Leo glanced at me, looked back at Lambert. “Anything else?”

  Lambert shook his head. “He just started to come after me with the hammer. That’s when I shot him.”

  “How many times did you shoot him?” Darby asked, maybe upset that he’d been cut out of the interview.

  “Twice. He kept coming after the first shot, so I had to shoot him again.”

  “Did he come after you, or did you go over to him when you shot him?” I asked.

  Lambert’s features hardened. “He came after me. I had no choice.”

  We gave him a moment. Leo then asked, “What happened after that?”

  “I called 911 and stayed on the line until the police got there.”

  “Let’s talk about the hammer that was used on Campbell,” I said. “I understand it belonged to you.”

  He nodded. “It was a gift from my dad when I was younger. He had my initials engraved on it.”

  “How do you think Morgan got ahold of it?”

  “It was in the garage. I left it there after fixing some boards on the fence.”

  “But why would he go into the garage?”

  Lambert locked eyes with me. “I have no idea. Maybe...I know Campbell wanted some work done around the house, so maybe she showed him around the house and the garage, and he remembered seeing the hammer there.”

  What he’d said seemed like a big stretch. He broke down again and excused himself, going into his trailer for some tissue.

  While he was gone, Mel whispered, “I think he’s telling the truth.”

  Darby agreed with her, while Leo and I remained silent. In a moment, Lambert came back outside and blew his nose.

  “Let’s talk about Luke Morgan,” Leo said, after he’d settled in again. “Did he and Campbell know one another?”

  �
�Yeah. The bastard was stalking her.”

  “Tell us about that.”

  “He was constantly following her when she was on the set, sending her flowers. Campbell told me that he scared her.”

  “Did he ever make any comments to her?” I asked.

  “Once. He said something about her being pretty and maybe they should go for coffee together.”

  “Do you know how Campbell responded?”

  “She told him she was involved with someone and had no interest in going out.”

  “Did she think of his offer as a date? Maybe it was just a friendly offering.”

  Lambert glared at me. “He was a stalker and a killer. It was hardly friendly.”

  I studied him for a moment as he wiped his tears again. While it was too early to draw any conclusions, it was obvious that Blake Lambert was an angry person. While anger was a normal reaction to what happened, I wasn’t sure if his anger was specific to Morgan or more generally a part of Lambert’s personality, like Jimmy Castello had said. It was something I intended to keep in mind.

  After giving Lambert a moment to calm down, Leo took over again. “You said before that Morgan was stalking Campbell. Were there any other incidents that you know about?”

  After a moment, Lambert stood. “I just remembered something. Give me a minute.”

  Darby went with him as he went back inside the trailer. While they were gone, Mel kept her voice low and said to us, “You don’t believe what he said, do you?”

  “I think it’s too soon to draw conclusions,” I said.

  Leo nodded. “Agreed. Let’s see what else he has to say.”

  Mel shook her head, obviously upset with us. Five minutes later, Darby returned with Lambert. The actor handed Leo a single sheet of paper. “He sent Campbell this letter.”

  I looked over Leo’s shoulder as he read the two lines aloud. “I think you’re very special. One of the best actors I’ve ever seen. Thanks for the friendship, Luke.”

  Leo looked at Lambert. “What did Campbell say about this?”

  “That it was creepy, and she was worried about him. She wanted him to stay away from her.”

  “Did you ever talk to Morgan or confront him?”

  He shook his head. “I planned to, but…I got busy with work.”

  “Did you recognize Mr. Morgan?” I asked.

  “What do you mean?”

  “When he was in the house and you confronted him. Did you know who he was?”

  He nodded. “Campbell had some pictures on her phone that she took around the set. He was in one of them and she pointed him out when he started stalking her.”

  I moved the conversation in another direction. “The investigators didn’t find Campbell’s phone in her house. Do you have any idea where it could be?”

  He glanced at me, shook his head, and his gaze moved off.

  “Don’t you think that’s unusual?” I said. “Was Campbell ever without her phone?”

  He shrugged. “She wasn’t obsessed with it, like some people. Maybe she left it at the studio. I can’t really say.”

  His explanation didn’t add up, and I couldn’t help but think there was a reason Campbell’s phone was missing. Maybe there was something in the call or text history that Lambert didn’t want us to know about. I decided to go back over something else he’d said that bothered me.

  “When you described Luke Morgan’s actions a few minutes earlier, you called him a stalker,” I said. “Can you tell us why you used that term?”

  There was irritation in his voice as he glared at me and answered. “He was sending my girlfriend flowers, asking her to go out with him, and writing her letters. None of that behavior was encouraged by her. I’d say that makes him a stalker.”

  I decided to push some buttons. “I would say what he did was a bit on the assertive side and maybe unwanted, but I wouldn’t describe it as stalking behavior.”

  He scoffed. “Then clearly you don’t understand the term.” He turned away from me and shook his head.

  It was common practice in police investigations to go over the details of a witness’s statement several times to make sure the story didn’t change and the details were consistent. Blake Lambert was consistent in what he told us, but impatient with the process. As we finished up, he made it clear that he had no further desire to talk to us.

  “I won’t be answering my phone for a few days,” Lambert said. “I’ll be in seclusion.”

  TWENTY-THREE

  “Seclusion,” I said, as we stopped at our cars in the studio lot. It was mid-afternoon. The fog was starting to roll in from the ocean. “Why is it that people in Hollywood get to go into seclusion?”

  “It’s obvious that you don’t like Blake Lambert,” Mel said. “I think his story is believable and consistent.”

  Darby agreed. He looked at Leo, raising his thin brows.

  Leo gave them his take. “I think the jury’s still out. More work’s needed.”

  “As in?” Mel asked.

  “Follow up on both Campbell and Morgan, the employees at the studio.”

  “And, we need to canvass the neighborhood Campbell lived in,” I added.

  Darby grumbled something about making sure the division of duties was fair before he and Mel left.

  “Just once, I’d like to work a case without Darby taking exception to everything we do,” I said, after they were gone.

  Leo smiled. “I’m afraid Mr. Hall would need a personality transplant for that to happen.” He held on my eyes for a moment. “You don’t believe Lambert, do you?”

  I exhaled and took a moment to gather my thoughts. “I know it’s early in the investigation, and maybe it’s just a first impression, but I got an angry vibe off him. I also think there’s something that he’s leaving out of the equation.”

  “You think he confronted Morgan about his intentions with his girlfriend?”

  “Maybe. Morgan going into the garage for the hammer also doesn’t add up. Like you said, we need more work on everything.”

  After settling Bernie into the back seat, and we began heading for the coroner’s office in Los Angeles, Leo got a call that his granddaughter was sick. We made a detour back to the station, where I dropped him off, then headed downtown. I got stuck in heavy traffic and was late for the autopsy.

  I managed to find a technician to leave Bernie with, then met up with Darby, Mel, and Brie Henner in the autopsy suite. Brie was my friend, a tall African-American deputy coroner, who was almost exclusively assigned Section One cases because of her reduced workload. She was battling stage four metastatic breast cancer and had recently been accepted into a clinical drug trial. Her condition was fragile, and I worried about the toll the job was taking on her. By the time I arrived, she’d already completed Luke Morgan’s autopsy and was finishing up with Campbell Turner.

  After she finished, Darby, Mel, and I took a seat in a conference room with Brie, where she went over her findings, starting with Morgan. “There were two separate wounds. The first was a non-fatal round that pierced the upper torso, missing any vital organs or arteries. The second round shattered the temporal lobe of the brain, causing massive hemorrhaging and damage. That wound was made at a much closer range than the first and would have been fatal.”

  “Can you give us your best estimate how close Lambert would have been to Morgan when he fired the fatal round?” I asked.

  “Based on the blood and tissue splatter patterns, I would estimate it was a matter of no more than a couple of feet.”

  I looked at Darby and Mel. “Meaning Blake Lambert would have shot Luke Morgan once and then walked over and shot him again at close range.”

  “Or, it could be that Morgan was still coming at him after the first round was fired and he had to shoot him again, just like he told us,” Darby said.

  “The angle of impact would make that unlikely,” Brie said. “If it went down as you’re suggesting, Morgan would have had to turn away from Lambert just before the fatal round was fire
d into the side of his head.”

  Mel looked at her partner. “The facts don’t lie. There’s a lot more to what happened than Lambert told us.”

  I looked at Brie. “Anything else?”

  She shook her bald head. “There was nothing in the tox screens that show he’d been drinking or using drugs.”

  Brie put her glasses back on. “Let’s talk about Campbell Turner. The time of death is roughly consistent with that of Morgan, sometime between two and six in the afternoon. The cause of death was pretty much evident by what the responding officers found and reported at the crime scene. Our victim suffered blunt-force trauma from multiple hammer blows. There was brain matter and skull fragments found on the floor near the body. There were also defensive wounds on her arms, indicating she tried to fight back. Her death was the result of massive hemorrhaging from the hammer blows. This was a vicious, violent assault, and the perpetrator wanted to be sure the blows were fatal.”

  “Any evidence on the body that ties the crime directly to Luke Morgan?” Mel asked.

  Brie removed her gloves and shook her bald head. “There’s nothing obvious, but we did nail scrapings and will check for DNA.”

  “So we’ve got nothing that we didn’t know before her autopsy,” Darby said.

  Brie levelled her dark eyes on him. “I don’t want you to leave disappointed, so there is one other finding that’s noteworthy.”

  “What’s that?”

  “Our victim was a heroin addict.”

  TWENTY-FOUR

  “The preliminary tox report shows that Campbell Turner likely injected heroin earlier in the same day she was murdered,” Brie said. “She had injection sites on both arms, some that were recent, indicating that she was highly addicted to the substance and probably using several times a week.”

  My friend and I were at a small Mexican restaurant a couple blocks from her office after work. The traffic from downtown Los Angeles was terrible this time of day, so I accepted Brie’s offer of an early dinner. We were on the outdoor patio of the uncrowded eatery, where the owners had been kind enough to set out a bowl of water for Bernie.