Cold Comfort (Malone Mystery Novels Book 3) E-Book

Larry Darter

• Herausgeber: Fedora Press
• Kategorie: Krimi
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2018

Beschreibung

Defense attorney Liz Harper from Los Angeles law firm Ross & Logan pays Malone a visit with an interesting story to tell. Harper's client, bad-boy actor Zack Sinclair, whose appetites for booze, gambling, and extramarital sex are as out-sized as his ego, has been charged with the murder of his estranged wife, Holly Sutherland, one of Hollywood's biggest and brightest stars. Sinclair has no alibi, and he is broke. On the hook for a quarter million dollar gambling debt, as her sole heir, he had multi-million reasons to kill his wealthy wife.

Harper believes her client is innocent, at least of the murder, and hires Malone to prove it before the case goes to trial. Malone starts investigating. The case quickly gets darker when he uncovers some ugly secrets about the deceased. His search for he truth puts him squarely at odds with a mafioso who tells Malone to drop the case or else. Malone enters into a daring game of cat-and-mouse with the crime boss, a game he might not come out of alive.

Leseprobe

COLD COMFORT

A Malone Mystery Novel

LARRY DARTER

Cold Comfort

Copyright © 2017 by Larry Darter

Cover art copyright © 2017 by Fedora Press

Published by Fedora Press at Smashwords

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used or reproduced in any manner whatsoever without written permission except in the case of brief quotations embodied in critical articles and reviews.

Cold Comfort is a work of fiction. All names, characters, places, and incidents are either the product of the author's imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual persons living or dead, businesses, companies, organizations, events, or locales is purely coincidental.

Print editions of this book available from most booksellers.

Click or visit the author's website:

LarryDarter.com

For Suzanne

When we met, my life began.

Also by Larry Darter

THE MALONE MYSTERY NOVELS

Fair Is Foul and Foul Is Fair

Come What May

Contents

Chapter 1

Chapter 2

Chapter 3

Chapter 4

Chapter 5

Chapter 6

Chapter 7

Chapter 8

Chapter 9

Chapter 10

Chapter 11

Chapter 12

Chapter 13

Chapter 14

Chapter 15

Chapter 16

Chapter 17

Chapter 18

Chapter 19

Chapter 20

Chapter 21

Chapter 22

Chapter 23

Chapter 24

Chapter 25

Chapter 26

Chapter 27

Chapter 28

Chapter 29

Chapter 30

Chapter 31

Chapter 32

Chapter 33

Chapter 34

Chapter 35

Chapter 36

Chapter 37

Chapter 38

Chapter 39

Chapter 40

Chapter 41

Chapter 42

Chapter 43

About the Author

1

“I think my client is innocent,” Liz Harper said to me.

We were in my office, on the fifth floor of the old Security Bank Building, with a view of Cahuenga Boulevard.

“I’ll freely admit he isn’t a very nice guy. He’s probably guilty of a lot of other things, but I don’t believe he killed his wife.”

“Yes, but you’re his defense attorney,” I said.

“Exactly, and that should tell you something when I say I believe he is innocent,” Liz said. She perched on the edge of one of the chairs in front of my desk, her thick honey blonde hair gleaming in the sunlight coming through the window behind me. She had on a lavender jacket with a very short matching skirt. Liz had some very nice legs. Of course, she knew that.

“Sorry? I’m not following. You’re his lawyer, so you’re supposed to believe he is innocent.”

“Oh, contraire,” Liz said. “Even if he were guilty, I’d still defend him. Like every other American citizen, he is entitled to the most vigorous defense he can get.”

“Or can afford to pay for,” I said.

Liz smiled. “Yes, there is that.”

“Does he have money?”

“He’s loaded,” Liz said.

“Tell me about your client.”

“His name is Zack Sinclair, and he’s an actor,” Liz said. “At least he has been in the past, but he hasn’t worked in a while. He was married to the victim, Holly Sutherland.”

“Holly Sutherland?”

“Yes, the darling of Hollywood,” Liz said.

“Sutherland I’ve heard of, Zack Sinclair, I haven’t. Was he loaded before he married her?”

“Not exactly, no.”

“Bingo!”

“Bingo?”

“It’s a highly technical investigative term that we sleuths use,” I said. “That’s why Sinclair is loaded. He just became heir to Sutherland's estate.”

“Yes.”

“Were they of similar age?”

“No, he married her when he was twenty-five, and she was thirty-nine.”

“How old is he now?”

“Almost thirty.”

Liz slid back into the chair and crossed her legs. She bounced the top leg up and down a little, causing her short skirt to climb a little higher. She didn’t seem to notice, but I did. After all, I was a skilled detective.

“What was their marriage like?”

“Things were a little rocky,” she said.

“Were they separated?”

“Not legally. But they weren’t sharing a bed. Sutherland lived in the house. Zack lived in the guest bungalow in back.”

“Because?”

“He had some shortcomings she didn’t approve of. When he seemed to show little interest in addressing them, she kicked him out of the house.”

“What kind of shortcomings?”

Liz grinned. “You want them in order of severity or alphabetically?”

“Let me guess,” I said. “Booze, drugs maybe, extramarital affairs?”

Liz shook her her sadly. “You’re so jaded.”

“No, I’m pragmatic. When couples have marital problems, those are the usual suspects.”

“Okay, all of the above,” Liz said. “And, he also liked to gamble and evidently wasn’t very good at it. On top of the other things, she tired of paying his gambling debts.”

“Swell.”

“Swell?”

“Yes, she had money, he didn’t. She wasn’t sharing anymore. He probably had gambling debts which usually means owing money to some not very nice people. He stands to inherit a lot of money now that she’s dead. I don’t think the district attorney will have any problem articulating a convincing motive.”

“It does look bad,” Liz said. “But I still don’t think he did it.”

“What kind of case do the cops have?”

“She was discovered naked in her bed, stabbed multiple time.”

“Did they find the knife?”

“Not as far as I know, but the police are still processing the scene.”

“Does he have an alibi?”

“Not really. Sinclair claims that he was in the bungalow alone, watching television at the time the police believe Sutherland was killed.”

“Was it her habit to sleep naked?”

“I don’t know.”

“Anyone else in her life?”

“There were some rumors of an affair or two after she and Sinclair stopped sharing a bed, but nothing conclusive as far as I know.”

“Okay,” I said. “He’s a solid suspect. But it doesn’t sound like they have enough to get a conviction. The lack of a definitive murder weapon is always a big problem for the prosecution in a case like this.”

“There’s more, they had a huge fight earlier in the evening on the night she was killed.”

“Any witnesses?”

“Yes, dozens. It happened at a party celebrating the upcoming release of her newest picture held at The Bazaar of Beverly Hills .”

“What happened?”

“Sinclair crashed the party. He was drunk. Witnesses told the police that they overheard him asking Sutherland for money. She refused, and they quarreled. Things got heated, and he slapped her. The bouncers restrained him and escorted him out.”

“But the cops can’t put him in the house afterward when she was killed?”

“No, but since they have arrested him, they probably have more than I’ve just told you.”

“Because what you’ve told me isn’t enough to convict him?”

“It might be. As you observed, the prosecution believes they have a solid motive, and since Sinclair lived on the grounds next to the house, the opportunity part is a slam dunk. And the jury won’t like him.”

“Because?”

“Because he can be arrogant, he’s a notorious drunk and womanizer with a gambling problem who married an older woman, one of the biggest and wealthiest stars in Hollywood. He was broke, but now that she is dead, he stands to inherit a fortune as her sole heir.”

“So, maybe the prosecution does have more than they have told you.”

“Probably,” Liz said.

“What about the rights of full discovery?”

“What about Santa Claus?” Liz said. “The courts have held that there is no general duty imposed on the prosecution to disclose all material evidence to the defense before trial.”

“But isn’t it a violation of due process for them to withhold relevant evidence in a murder case?”

“It’s only a violation of due process for the prosecution to suppress evidence that the defense requests that is both material to guilt and favorable to the defendant. That’s where you come in big boy. I need someone to look into this and see what can be found out. Maybe you’ll learn they know something that is both material and favorable to my client that I need to ask them to produce. Want to see what you can find out?”

“You kidding? This is a real high profile case, the biggest murder case in LA since the Nicole Brown Simpson and Ron Goldman murders. So, sure, I’ll be happy to look into it.”

2

I was in the office of Detective Sergeant Jaime Reyes on the fifth floor of the LAPD Police Administration Building on West 1st Street.

“If Sinclair did it,” I said, “don’t you think he would have manufactured a more convincing alibi?”

“Have you met him?” Reyes said.

“Not yet.”

“When you do, don’t expect him to recognize any of your Shakespeare quotes.”

“Not the smartest tack in the box?”

“Not even close. Sinclair is as dumb as the proverbial post.”

“Maybe his alibi is so simple because it’s the truth.”

“Technically, it’s not an alibi at all. Sinclair said he was at home alone watching television, the same alibi O.J. floated. No one believed him either.”

“Maybe, but as I’m sure you recall, O.J. was acquitted.”

“Yes, but in this case, there is no glove that doesn’t fit, and I don’t believe anyone will be rioting in the streets on behalf of Sinclair.”

“But you can’t disprove his alibi.”

“Nope, but you keep forgetting that claiming you were at home alone watching television isn’t technically an alibi at all. By inference, an alibi is when you were in the company of solid citizens willing to testify that you were with them somewhere else at the time a crime was committed making it impossible that you could have been at the scene when it occurred.”

“Still it seems to me, as an experienced and objective investigator, only an innocent person would have such an unconvincing alibi.”

“Objective investigator? Seriously?”

“Plus, what would he have to gain from killing his wife?”

“The motive is solid. Sinclair is broke as a joke and is the victim’s only heir. With her dead, he stands to inherit her very substantial estate and his financial problems are over.”

“Not if he murdered her,” I said. “California, like most states has a slayer statute. A person who commits the felonious murder of another cannot profit from the victim’s estate or collect the proceeds from any life insurance policy. If he killed her, he wouldn't get a penny.”

“Like I said, Sinclair isn’t a candidate for Mensa. He probably doesn’t even know about the slayer statute. Or maybe he is just dumb enough to believe he could beat the rap and collect the money anyway.”

“That would suggest he is smarter than you give him credit for,” I said.

“He is dumb as a box of rocks, Malone. Go see him and draw your own conclusion.”

“So there is no evidence you don’t have you wish you did?”

“I’d like to be able to place him in the room when his wife was killed.”

“A videotape of him stabbing her to death would be nice,” I said.

Reyes gave me an eye roll. “The case is solid, Malone and I’m satisfied that we have identified and arrested the person responsible for the murder of Holly Sutherland.”

Reyes had been my last partner before I left that LAPD, and one of the best homicide investigators I’d ever met. He was thorough and detail-oriented. It didn’t bode well for Sinclair that Reyes was so confident that he had killed his wife. In fact, Reyes had all but convinced me that Sinclair was guilty. But Reyes was my best friend, and naturally, I could never resist arguing with him.

“I don’t like it. Without witnesses, a murder weapon, or a confession, it’s all circumstantial. Anyone could have killed Holly Sutherland.”

“Next you’re going to tell me it was a suicide, Malone. Sure, maybe Sutherland stabbed herself multiple times and then disposed of the knife before she bled to death to confuse us.”

“I’m just saying we should continue the investigation instead of just assuming Sinclair is guilty,” I said.

“Let me get this straight, Malone. You’re suggesting that I should help you disprove our case? Why on earth do you believe I’d do that?”

“In the interest of truth and justice,” I said. “Plus we’re pals.”

“Sorry, Malone. I just made sergeant, and I’m not going to make lieutenant by trying to refute a solid investigation that implicates the suspect in a high-profile murder case.”

“Do you know anything else, anything I don’t know?”

“Yes, a lot,” Reyes said, “but not about this case.”

“You think the DA has enough to get a conviction?”

“More than enough, and the jury is going to hate Sinclair.”

“That’s the same thing Liz said.”

“Liz Harper?”

“Yep.”

“She used to be a county prosecutor,” Reyes said.

“She is criminal defense attorney with Ross & Logan now.”

“Didn’t she have a thing for you?”

“Still does,” I said.

“Nice legs,” Reyes said.

“You’ve noticed that?”

“I’m an experienced and skilled detective,” Reyes said.

“Of course you are,” I said.

3

We were in the Ross & Logan conference room, high up on the thirty-eighth floor, with a view of the San Gabriel Mountains. Today Liz had on a red jacket with a matching short red skirt. As a former assistant district attorney, Liz still had friends in high places. She had pulled some strings and had arranged for Zack Sinclair to be brought to her firm’s offices on South Flower Street from the Los Angeles County Men’s Central Jail for an attorney-client meeting.

A couple of Los Angeles County deputies wearing the familiar silver-tan uniform shirts and forest green pants brought Sinclair wearing leg irons and handcuffs into the conference room and sat him in a chair. One of the deputies removed the handcuffs, and then they both left, and it was just Liz and me and Sinclair.

Sinclair was tall and slender with dark brown hair cut short. He was what women would probably describe as ruggedly handsome. He sat up straight in the chair, ignoring me and staring straight at Liz.

“Hello, Zack,” Liz said. “How are you holding up?”

“How do think, counselor? I’ve been locked up like an animal for the last two days with a bunch of criminals. When are you getting me out of that miserable place?”

“We have a bail hearing set for tomorrow morning, Zack,” Liz said. “We should have you out and back home by tomorrow afternoon.”

“It’s about time.” Turning his attention to me, Sinclair said, “Who the hell are you?”

Liz spoke up before I could answer. “This is Mr. Malone. He is a private investigator that the firm has hired to assist with your defense.”

“Tell me about your wife’s death, Mr. Sinclair,” I said.

“I don’t want to talk about that.”

“Mr. Malone is here to help you, Zack,” Liz said. “You must cooperate with him if he is to do that.”

“So what are you going to do?”Sinclair said to me.

“Find out if you did what you’re accused of.”

“I didn’t kill Holly, I loved her. What do want from me?”

“I want to hear your story.”

“If you’re supposed to help me, why aren’t you out looking for Holly’s killer instead wasting my time here?”

“I’m sure you have pressing matters to attend to back at the jail, but an investigation has to start somewhere, and I’m starting with you.”

“Okay, Malone, ask your questions.”

“When did you last see your wife, alive?”

“The evening before she was killed, at a restaurant in Beverly Hills.”

“What did you talk about?”

“That’s really none of your business.”

“We need to be clear on something, Sinclair. The cops believe you killed your wife. They are so sure of it that they aren’t looking at anyone else. The district attorney is confident he can convict you. I may be the only thing standing between you and life in prison. So you need to drop the attitude. You’re starting to annoy me.”

“He’s right, Zack,” Liz said. “It doesn’t look very good for you right now. The way things stand, if we go to trial, I doubt the jury would stay out more than an hour before returning a guilty verdict.”

I was quiet. Liz was quiet. Outside the thick tinted plate glass windows of the conference room, the city was quiet. Off to the north, I could see the snow on the peaks of the San Gabriel Mountains.

“We talked about money,” Sinclair said. “I asked her for money to pay a debt.”

“Was there an argument?” I said.

“Yes, we always argued when we talked about money.”

“Did she agree to give you the money to pay the debt?”

“No.”

“Is that why you slapped her?”

“No. I…I was under a lot of stress. I was getting pressured over the debt. I really needed that money. She said no. She called me a useless drunk and an embarrassment, and I just snapped. You know? That’s when I slapped her.”

“Then what happened?”

“The bouncers took me outside. They put me in a taxi and sent me home.”

“When you say home, do you mean the house where you lived with your wife?”

“No, the guest house in back. We had been having some problems, so I moved into the guest house for a while.”

“Then.”

“When I got home I had a few drinks and watched some television.”

“What did you watch?”

“Better Call Saul on Netflix. You ever watch it?”

“You betcha, all the time.”

“Yes, I really like that show.”

“Did you go to the house when Holly got home, to continue the conversation about the money?”

“No, like I told you, I last saw Holly at the restaurant. I drank and watched television until I fell asleep, or I guess until I passed out drunk.”

“When did you find out about your wife?”

“The next morning. Guadalupe came to the guest house. She was screaming and crying. I couldn’t even understand most of what she was saying. But she wanted me to go with her to the house.”

“Who is Guadalupe?”

“She is the housekeeper, well really more than that. She has worked for Holly for more than ten years. She is part of the family. She comes in three days a week. She cleans the house and the guest house. She cooked some of the meals for Holly.”

“So you went to the house with Guadalupe?”

“Yes, and I followed her to Holly’s bedroom. That’s when I found her. She was cold and blue, and there was blood everywhere on the bed.”

“That must have been an awful scene.”

“It was terrible.”

“What did you do then?”

“I don’t…I don’t really know. I think I was in shock. I think I started crying when I saw her.”

“Did you call the police?

“Yes, Guadalupe was too upset, and her English isn’t that good when she isn’t upset.”

“Right away? After you found Holly was deceased?”

“Yes, I think so anyway. I really don’t remember the details very clearly. It’s all kind of a blur.”

“Does the house have an alarm system?”

“Yes. Guadalupe said it was armed when she arrived that morning. She had to turn it off.”

“Do you have a key to the house?” I said. “And the alarm code?”

“No. After I moved to the guest house, Holly had the locks and alarm code changed.”

“Anyone else have a key or knowledge of the alarm code besides Holly?”

“Just Guadalupe, as far as I know.”

“Did Holly have enemies?”

“No, of course not. Everyone loved Holly.”

“Almost everyone. Anyone else inher life?”

“What do you mean?”

“Boyfriends.”

“Absolutely not. Our marriage wasn’t over. Sure we had our problems like every married couple does. But we would have worked it out. We loved each other.”

“So who killed Holly?” I said.

“I don’t know. I just know it wasn’t me.”

“The police seem certain that it was you.”

“Yes, I figured that out when they arrested me and put me in jail.”

“Maybe you could give me a list of her friends.”

“Holly had many friends. I wasn’t acquainted with them all. Maybe you should speak with Lisa.”

“Lisa?”

“Yes, Lisa Brandt,” Sinclair said. “Lisa is…Lisa was Holly’s personal assistant. She kept up with Holly’s social calendar so she would know everyone Holly associated with regularly, both socially and in connection with her work.”

“Where can I find Lisa?”

“She has an office in Universal City. I’m sure she must have a website. You could probably find her phone number on it.”

“Mr. Sinclair, are you knowledgeable about the California slayer statute?”

“Never heard of it.”

“Let me explain,” I said. “The statute is a law that says a person who commits the felonious murder of another cannot profit from the victim’s estate or collect the proceeds from any life insurance policy. In other words, if a guy was convicted of murdering his wife he couldn’t inherit her estate or collect on any life insurance policy he might be listed as a beneficiary on.”

“I see. Well, that doesn’t surprise me. It makes perfect sense. What kind of society would allow someone to profit from murdering someone? It’s just common sense there would be a law against it.”

“Yes, I suppose so,” I said. “I just wanted to be certain that you’re aware you won’t get a penny from Holly’s estate if you’re convicted of her murder.”

“If I had killed Holly, I wouldn’t expect to inherit anything. Granted I’m not the smartest guy in the world, but I’m not a moron. Maybe I never heard of the slayer law but like I said, what it says is just common sense. Honestly, it might be the most sensible law I’ve ever heard of. But since I didn’t kill my wife, I do hope that you and my very expensive attorney will not allow me to be convicted of something I didn’t do. Otherwise, the person who did kill Holly would get away with it, and that can’t happen.”

“How did you meet Holly?” I said.

“We made a picture together. There was real chemistry between us and not just when we were on the set. We started seeing each other. We fell in love, and we got married.”

“I understand you haven’t been in a film recently.”

“No, not for a couple of years,” Sinclair said. “Maybe it’s been three years since I made a picture. I had some early success. It kind of went to my head I guess, but I didn’t realize it at the time. I allowed too many things to distract me from acting, and the studios stopped calling.”

“What kind of distractions?”

“I started drinking too much. There were drugs. I indulged in affairs with other women. I started gambling. I’ve never told anyone this, but I can admit it now. Once I wasn’t getting the parts anymore, I started to resent Holly’s success. I felt like less of a man because she was bringing in all the money and supporting us. I became depressed and my vices kind of spiraled out of control. That’s the reason things grew strained between Holly and me. It was all my fault, and I can see that now, now when it’s too late.”

I didn’t really know what to say to any of that, so I let it pass. “I guess that’s all the questions I have, for now, Mr. Sinclair. Thank you for your candor. If any other questions occur to me, hopefully, you will be out on bail, and I can reach you at home.”

“I’ll do anything I can to help,” Sinclair said. “I want you to find the person responsible for Holly’s death. Sure, I don’t want to go to prison for something I didn’t do, but more importantly, Holly didn’t deserve what happened to her. I want her to have justice.”

“I’ll do my best,” I said.

Liz talked with Sinclair for a few minutes about the bail hearing, She then got up and went to the door. She opened it and nodded to the deputies outside. They came in, put the cuffs back on Sinclair, patted him down, and led him out for the transport back to county jail.

“What do you think after talking with him?” Liz said.

“I won’t say I believe he is innocent. But maybe I’m less convinced he is guilty.”

“Better than nothing,” Liz said.

“It’s a start,” I said.

4

Eddie Lomonte was in his usual booth at the Bonaventure cocktail lounge on South Figueroa Street. He was on his cell phone and typing on an iPad. As I sat down across from him, Eddie nodded at me and then waved at the bartender. I waited while Eddie finished the call. The bartender brought over two bottles of Rolling Rock. I sipped some beer. Eddie kept listening to the person on the phone and typing on the tablet. Finally, he said “Ciao,” and disconnected the call. He put the phone and the tablet on the table.

“Malone, long time no see. I heard you left the cops.”

“Yes, I did, Eddie. I’m private now.”

“No shit. Good to know. I need a private detective from time to time. Maybe I can throw some business your way.”

“That’s thoughtful of you, Eddie.”

“So what did you want?” Eddie said. He had on a dark suit, white shirt, and a maroon tie with little white dots. His salt and pepper hair was parted in the middle and slicked back with lots of hair product evenly on both sides of the part.

“Know a guy named Zack Sinclair?”

“Yeah, the actor.”

“I heard he is a gambler.”

“Gambler my ass. Being a gambler means winning sometimes. Ideally, it means winning more than you lose. Sinclair isn’t a gambler. He’s just a loser.”

“Doesn’t have the skills?”

“Not that so much. He likes the rush part of it too much. I’ve seen him keep raising when he had nothing in his hand. He just won’t fold when it’s all there is to do.”

“I heard he is into someone for a big loss.”

“Yeah, two hundred fifty large. He sat in on a high stakes weekend game in Palm Springs a week or so ago. He lost the hundred grand buy-in he brought with him. He kept losing all weekend long. He signed an IOU for the quarter mil when he dropped out and went home.”

“Who does he owe?”

“Why you asking?”

“Sinclair is in jail for murdering his wife.”

“No shit. Why did he do that? Wasn’t he married to that hot older actress that’s always on the cover of the tabloids?”

“Yes, if you mean Holly Sutherland. But it isn’t a sure thing Sinclair killed her. He is just accused of it.”

“And you think the gambling is involved in it?” Eddie said.

“Might be. Sinclair was apparently getting pressure to pay up. He asked her for the money, and they had a big argument over it in public the evening before she was killed.”

“So you working for him, trying to get him off?”

“Not exactly. His defense attorney hired me to investigate the case, to find out whether he did what he is accused of.”

“I’ll tell you what I know, Malone, but you didn’t hear it from me. The guy Sinclair owes is connected big time. I’m talking Italian family. The feds hit them hard in LA before all the terrorist crap started and the feds lost interest in organized crime. But they still run Palm Springs.”

“You know me, Eddie. I’ve never burned a source.”

“Yeah, I know that. Otherwise, we wouldn’t be talking and drinking beer. The guy he owes is Joey Camano. He puts the games together, and he took Sinclair’s IOU.”

“How much trouble is Sinclair in?”

“He is in deep shit and sinking fast. Camano is a businessman. He expects to be paid what he is owed. He is also a made man, so I guess I don’t need to tell you what happens to people who don’t pay. You can’t really blame Camano. He’s running a business. He can’t look soft by letting people get away with stiffing him.”

“I expect not,” I said.

The bartender brought us two more beers.

“I can’t see Camano being involved in any of this,” Eddie said.

“Why do you say that?”

“Just look at it from his point of view, Malone. As long as Sinclair is locked up, Camano isn’t going to get paid. If Sinclair did whack his old lady, Camano is screwed. Sinclair is broke and isn’t it true you can’t inherit from someone you murdered?”

“Yes, that’s true, Eddie. Good point.”

Eddie’s phone rang, and I took it as my cue to leave. I shot Eddie with my index finger and thumb and left the bar.

5

It was a hot morning with plenty of humidity when I drove into general parking at Universal City Walk Hollywood and dumped the Camry in a parking space. Universal City Walk was a three-block entertainment, dining, and shopping promenade. It was mostly frequented by Los Angeles’ tourists.

I’d found the telephone number for Lisa Brandt, Holly Sutherland's personal assistant. When I called her she had agreed to meet me at a coffee shop located at Universal City Walk. The meet was scheduled for 11:30. I found the coffee shop next to the Upstart Crow souvenir shop at a few minutes past eleven. I always liked to arrive early when meeting someone I was interviewing for a case at a public venue. Often they weren’t eager to speak with me in the first place. If they arrived first, they were prone to impatience and leaving before I arrived and had the chance to speak with them.

Having been in the coffee shop before, I knew the brew was decent, so I walked up to the counter and purchased a cup to drink while I waited for Brandt. I took the coffee back outside and found a vacant table beneath a maroon umbrella and settled in to wait. Brandt had described herself on the phone. I recognized her when I saw her walking towards the shop on the sidewalk. As she approached my table, I stood up. “Ms. Brandt?” I said.

“You must be Malone,” she said, looking at me over the top of her large designer sunglasses.

“Yes, that’s right,” I said. “Would you care to sit? I’ve already got coffee. Can I get you something?”

“Thank you, a vanilla iced latte would be nice,” Brandt said, as she sat down at the table.

After going inside to the counter to order the latte, I returned to the patio and set the drink on the table in front of Brandt. I sat down across from her.

“As I mentioned on the phone, I’m investigating the death of Holly Sutherland, and I would like to ask you a few questions,” I said.

“What’s that all about anyway?” Brandt said. “Zack killed Holly, didn’t he? The police have already arrested him and charged him with her murder.”

“Yes, Zack Sinclair has been arrested and charged, but he hasn’t been convicted. Maybe you’ve heard, in this country guilt isn’t presumed. Those accused of a crime are considered innocent until they have been proved guilty.”

“Seriously? You’re telling me you believe Zack Sinclair is innocent?”

“I’m in the very early stages of my investigation,” I said. “I have no opinion at the moment of Sinclair's guilt or innocence. That’s what I’ve been employed to determine.”

Brandt took a sip of the latte through the straw. She was an attractive petite woman with thick brown hair and large blue eyes and a wide mouth. She was wearing a pale yellow dress. Her nails were perfectly manicured and gleamed with red polish. She had an impressive diamond ring on her right hand.

“You mentioned on the phone you are a private investigator. I assume Zack hired you to try to get him off. I certainly have no interest in helping in that endeavor.”

“Actually I don’t work for Sinclair,” I said. “I’ve been employed by the law firm representing him. My assignment is not to get Sinclair off, as you put it. I’ve been hired to find the truth about the death of Ms. Sutherland.”

“What is it you want from me?” Brandt said, before taking another sip of latte.

“I was told you were employed by Ms. Sutherland as her personal assistant and in that capacity, you could provide the names of her friends and other regular associates.”

“Yes, I’ve worked for Holly as her personal assistant for the past eight years,” Brandt said. “As far as giving you a list of her friends and close associates, while I do have that information, I’m not at all certain I’m willing to give you such a list. I suspect you want the list so that you can contact them and harass them with your questions.”

“I don’t harass anyone, Ms. Brandt,” I said. “But, yes my job is asking people questions. That is how an investigation works.”

“I still don’t see the point, Mr. Malone. I’m satisfied that Holly was murdered by her husband and the police have him in jail for murder. I’m satisfied they have the right man.”

Knowing that debating Zack Sinclair’s guilt or innocence wasn’t going to get me anywhere, I decided to change tack. Brandt was displaying a lot of hostility and sometimes getting such a person to talk about herself helped to mitigate that a little. I began by flashing her a medium smile. I didn’t want to risk my full-on smile. I couldn’t risk her swooning in public and falling out of her chair onto the hard pavement.

“I’m not all that familiar with the duties of a personal assistant,” I said. “Can you tell me what you did for Ms. Sutherland in that capacity?”

“A personal assistant performs administrative tasks for a client, similar to those of an executive assistant or executive secretary.”

“Sorry to be so uninformed,” I said. “But that doesn’t really help me to understand what a personal assistant does.”

Brandt glared at me impatiently for a moment over the top of her sunglasses but then continued.

“I managed Holly’s schedule and calendar. I handled much of her email, personal correspondence, and social media accounts. I took care of social tasks, took care of her travel reservations and itineraries, that sort of thing.”

“That sounds like a lot of work,” I said. “Was she your only client?”

“In the beginning, she was,” Brandt said. “I was just getting started in the business when I first met Holly, and she hired me. I now own a personal assistant agency and have several employees. We have more than a dozen clients. My employees handle the other clients, but besides running the business, I continued to manage Holly’s affairs personally. That’s how she wanted it.”

Then you’re more of a contractor than a personal employee,” I said.

“That’s correct.”

“You don’t seem to care much for Zack Sinclair,” I said.

“That’s putting it mildly, Mr. Malone. Zack Sinclair is an overbearing, arrogant, and generally despicable excuse for a man. He is a drunk, a shameless womanizer, and he has a gambling addiction. I never understood why Holly married him and I sure never understood why she didn’t divorce him. He’s never been anything more than a parasite.”

“Yikes,” I said. “I understood he was a decent actor when he and Holly married.”

“He was never more than a mediocre actor, Mr.Malone. Zack starred in that superhero movie a few years back that quite unexpectedly turned out to be a blockbuster hit for Mythic Pictures. Based on that, he was cast as the leading man in one of Holly’s pictures which is how they met. It all went to his head. He became so conceited and self-important that no one could get along with him. He got into an argument with the director of the only movie he has had a part in after the film he made with Holly. He physically assaulted the director and then walked off the set. The die was cast. No studio wanted to work with him afterward. His agent dropped him, and he was washed up. He turned to drinking and gambling and cheated on Holly continually.”

“You seem to know a lot about Ms. Sutherland’s personal life,” I said.

“I know everything about Holly’s personal life,” Brandt said. “I wasn’t just her personal assistant. Holly and I were good friends.”

“Why do you feel so strongly that Sinclair murdered his wife?” I said. “Did she ever tell you anything that indicated she feared her husband might harm her?”

“Not in so many words,” Brandt said. “But she often spoke of his horrible temper, and they constantly fought towards the end. I certainly wasn’t surprised when I heard that he had been arrested when I learned of her murder.”

“Obviously, it’s a stretch in your mind, but let’s assume for a moment that Sinclair didn’t kill his wife,” I said. “You said that you handled much of her correspondence. Did she ever receive any threats that you’re aware of? Perhaps, threats from a troubled or disgruntled fan?”

“It’s not a stretch for me to assume for even a second that Zack Sinclair is innocent,” Brandt said. “It’s totally preposterous. But to answer your question, every star of Holly’s caliber receives disturbing fan mail from time to time. Holly was no exception. After all, she has been the most famous and beloved actress in Hollywood for many years. Mentally troubled fans became obsessed with her from time to time, imagining in their psychosis that there was some chance of having a romantic relationship with her. When those kinds of people don’t get the response they are seeking from the object of their obsession, sometimes they get very angry, and sometimes they send hateful, threatening letters.”

“I assume such letters were turned over to the proper authorities,” I said.

“Yes, with Holly’s approval, I have forwarded a few of the worst letters to the Los Angeles police over the years. But after investigation, none of the threats were ever determined credible. It was mostly just people lashing out because they felt rejected and slighted by the object of their obsessive affection.”

“Anyone to your knowledge every threaten her personally?” I said.

“There was one man,” Brandt said. “It happened about a year before Holly married Zack.”

“What happened?”

“This guy broke into Holly’s house in the middle of the night. Luckily, the noise awakened her. She got out of bed and turned on a light in time to see him coming down the hall toward her bedroom. She locked herself in the bedroom and called 911. The police arrived just a few minutes after she phoned for help.”

“Did they catch the guy?” I said.

“Yes. When the police arrived, the officers found the man trying to force open the bedroom door. He had removed all his clothes and was completely naked. The police arrested him. Later Holly told the police that the whole time the guy was trying to break down the door he was yelling at her through the door all the perverted sexual things he planned to do to her once he got inside the bedroom.”

“What happened to the guy?”

“Of course he had some mental issues, but eventually he was found competent to stand trial on some kind of home invasion charge. There were some aggravated circumstances. When the police searched his clothing, they found a gun and found that he had already taken some property from inside the house and put it in the pockets of his clothing. He was convicted and sentenced to eleven years in prison. As far as I know, he is still in prison.”

“Besides that guy and Sinclair, of course, is there anyone else you have reason to believe might want to harm Holly Sutherland?”

“Of course not,” Brandt said. “Holly was a star, but she was also a very wonderful and giving person. Everyone fortunate enough to know Holly on a personal level loved her.”

“Did Ms. Sutherland have any relatives that you know of?” I said.

“I don’t know everything about Holly’s family history,” Brandt said. “She never spoke of any aunts, uncles, cousins, that sort of thing. I do know that both her mother and father are deceased. Her mother remarried after Holly’s father died. Her dad died when she was very young. Her step-father is also deceased. She does have a half-brother, Jimmy, a son her mother gave birth to during the second marriage. Jimmy was to my knowledge her only living relative.”

“Was she close to her brother?”

“God no. He was, according to Holly, a shiftless drug addict. She wouldn’t have anything to do with him.”

“He ever try to contact her?” I said.

“A few times. He wrote to her asking for money, but she always refused. I replied to his letters and passed on the refusals.”

“He ever try to visit her?”

“Not to my knowledge and I’m certain Holly would have mentioned it to me if he had.”

“Listen, Ms.Brandt, I really need your help. To do my job, I really need a list of Ms. Sutherland’s friends and closest associates, and you’re evidently the only person who can provide a comprehensive list.”

“As I told you, Mr. Malone. I absolutely will not lift a finger to do anything that might help Zack Sinclair,” Brandt said.

“I get that, and I understand why you feel as you do,” I said. “But if you will indulge me one last time, assume there is a possibility, however remote you think it may be, that Sinclair didn’t kill his wife. If that’s true, the person who did is still at large, and if Sinclair gets convicted, that person will get away with it and your friend Holly won’t get justice.”

“That’s beyond remote,” Brandt said. “I’m convinced Zack did it. He wanted Holly’s money. But I concede your point.”

“So will you provide me a list of Ms. Sutherland’s friends and close associates?”

“Do you have a first name, Mr. Malone?”

“Yes, it’s Ben,” I said.

“You sure ask a lot of a girl in return for just buying her a latte, Ben. It’s afternoon now. Maybe you could buy me lunch, and I might give more serious consideration to your request.”

“Can’t think of anything I’d enjoy more,” I said. “But I really can’t today. Maybe another time?”

“Are you giving me the brush off, Ben, after I put myself out there like that?” Brandt said. “Am I not your type? It’s just lunch, I wasn’t asking you if you wanted to sleep with me, not yet anyway.”

“Not at all,” I said. “I’d love to have lunch, but as I told you I’m just getting started on this investigation and I just can’t spare the time today. To be honest, I find you very attractive but didn’t think you were offering anything more than having lunch together.”

“Oh wait, you’re married aren’t you?” Brandt said.

“Sort of,” I said.

“How does that work? Being sort of married?”

“I’m not married exactly, but I’m in a committed relationship with the girl of my dreams.”

“You’re not only honest but faithful, which is more than I can say for most of the guys I meet,” Brandt said. “If you give me your word you aren’t trying to get Sinclair off and are truly only seeking the truth, then I’ll give you the list you asked for.”

“You have my word, Ms. Brandt,” I said.

“Oh please, the least you could do is drop the Ms. Brandt stuff and call me Lisa.”

“Alright, I give you my word, Lisa,” I said.

Lisa smiled a wistful little smile. “You want to pick it up or shall I fax it to you?”

“A fax would be great,” I said, fishing a business card out of my jacket pocket. I slid the card across the table to Brandt.

“The fax number is on the card along with my office number. And if you should remember anything else you think might be important, please don’t hesitate to call.”

“Okay,” Brandt said. “And you have my number. If your situation should change, feel free to give me a ring.”

“I appreciate that,” I said.

“I’m sure you do, but I won’t be holding my breath waiting to hear from you. Unless your girlfriend is a moron, I doubt very seriously she will be letting you escape back in circulation.”

I laughed. “Thanks so much for your time, Lisa. It was very nice meeting you, and you’ve been a great help.”

Lisa picked up her purse and stood up.

“Nice meeting you, Ben. I still think Sinclair killed Holly, but I realize you’re only doing your job and I feel like I can trust you to do the right thing.” With that, she turned and walked away, back in the direction she had come from earlier. I watched her until she turned a corner and was out of sight. I’d expected her to turn her head and look back, but she hadn’t. I figured that even the medium, lower-wattage smile was just too much for some women. I’d have to be more careful in the future.

6

Flushed with success from my interview of Lisa Brandt, I thought I might as well spend the afternoon charming Holly Sutherland’s lawyer. I got her name and address from Liz Harper who had got it from Sinclair. Until I received the list of Sutherland’s close associates Brandt had agreed to provide, I didn’t have much else to do. I hoped to get a look at Sutherland’s will to confirm whether Sinclair was the sole heir to his wife’s estate. I was especially curious about whether the half-brother Brandt had told me about was mentioned in the will.

Nicole Harris-Anderson had an office on the fourteenth floor of a concrete and glass monolith on Wilshire Boulevard. From her window, you could look out at the eighteenth hole at the Brentwood Country Club.

“Wow,” she said, “a private eye investigating a murder. We don’t usually run into private detectives except forinfidelity cases.”

“We’re a versatile bunch,” I said.

“I’m sure,” Harris-Anderson said. “May I ask you a question?”

She was a tall, slim woman, with a nice tan. She looked like she did some running or cycling.

“Asking questions is my job, [...]