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Authors: R.T. Jordan

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BOOK: A Talent for Murder
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Muriel scoffed. “If she’s in jail, then she’s probably guilty.”

“We certainly wouldn’t want to get you into trouble with the police. God knows you must have a difficult enough time with the city’s chief health inspector.” Placenta looked around. “Garbage in the hallway.” She pointed to an overflowing bin. “Exposed electrical cords.”

Polly and the others followed Placenta’s gaze and looked up at the ceiling.

“Was that a darling family of kitties I saw a bit ago, or a pack of bubonic plague carriers?” Placenta bluffed.

Muriel frowned. “Are you trying to intimidate me? Extortion does not become a star of Polly Pepper’s caliber.” She looked at Polly. “I thought you were supposed to be a nice movie star.”

“Mother would never do anything that wasn’t lovely and nice,” Tim said, trying to smooth over the sudden hostility in the air. “She wouldn’t think of asking you to unlock Lisa’s door and disregard the police’s edict. However, if there was a way that you could let us simply grab a few of her undies, we promise not to touch anything else. And Polly Pepper is a clam when it comes to keeping secrets. No one would be the wiser.”

Muriel thought for a moment. One could tell that
she was weighing the possible consequences of helping a star, of whom she was genuinely fond, and doing something illegal. “Is your house in Bel Air really as grand as the pictures in
Architectural Digest
?”

“We’ll invite you over to see for yourself,” Tim said.

Muriel whirled around and reentered her apartment.

Polly looked at her son and maid. “So much for being nice.”

The door opened again and Muriel’s arm reached out. She held a key for a moment, then let it fall to the ground. “Oh, dear, I can’t find my keys. I must have accidentally dropped them somewhere.”

Tim retrieved the key from the doormat. “Thank you!” he whispered in a voice loud enough to be heard through the still ajar door. “Polly loves you. And so do I!”

“That wasn’t so hard,” Polly said as she led the way down the hall. “Now, where’s number four?”

“My wild guess is that it’s the one with the police tape and the sign that says ‘No Entry! Trespassers will be prosecuted!’“ Placenta pointed.

Polly looked around for anyone who might be watching and then rushed to the apartment door. “Strip away that nuisance tape, dear,” she said to Tim, who nervously removed just enough tape to allow access to the lock, and for his mother and Placenta to squeeze into the apartment.

Once inside, the three looked at the one-bedroom apartment, which was clean, but crammed with furniture, a television, a computer, shelves containing hundreds of DVDs, and all the accouterment of home entertainment.

“What exactly are we looking for?” Placenta asked. “Real live skeletons in the closet?”

“Haven’t a clue,” Polly confessed. “Maybe something that the police overlooked. A publicity photo of
Thane tacked on a dartboard? A voodoo doll? A copy of
Murder for Dummies?”

As Polly and her troupe looked through drawers, under the bed, in the closets, and through the DVD and video collection, they found that Lisa Marrs had a meager wardrobe, was apparently addicted to Pringles, and that she had a penchant for Merchant Ivory films and old movie musicals. DVDs of
Singin’ in the Rain, The Bandwagon, Cover Girl
, and
Show Boat
were scattered everywhere. Polly picked up a DVD jewel case from a stack beside the television. “It’s about time I watched this again!” she said. The title on the disc was handwritten. Polly read aloud,
“Anything Goes
. One of six.”

Polly placed the discs in her purse. “What?” she asked the questioning faces of Tim and Placenta. “I’m
borrowing
a movie. I haven’t seen this oldie since Mitzi Gaynor coerced me and Bing Crosby to dinner and made us sit through ninety-two minutes of them and Ethel Merman and Ida Lupino in this god-awful piece of drivel!”

Polly was trying to close her small purse with its new bulky contents, when the trio heard the knob on the front door being turned and opened. They instantly sprinted into the bedroom. A familiar voice said, “Look everywhere. She said they were here.”

Polly quickly opened a dresser drawer and pulled out all the underwear she could find. She clutched the garments in her arms and sang out, “Lisa will be thrilled!”

A startled Ped-Xing rushed into the bedroom accompanied by Thane’s former assistant, Michael. “What the hell?” Ped-Xing said.

Polly looked at Michael. “Sweetums, that was an awfully quick lunch! I hope you stuffed yourself!”

“I thought you were going to Miranda Richardson’s,” Michael said.

Polly looked confused.

Placenta stepped in. “Rescheduled.”

Ped-Xing looked at Michael with suspicion.

“They took me to the Polo Lounge this afternoon.”

“And what a lovely time we had, too,” Polly chirped. “We just stopped by Lisa’s apartment to retrieve a few ladies’ things for her.” Polly displayed her armload of garments for Ped-Xing and Michael. “What are you two doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in rehearsals?”

Ped-Xing hesitated. “Lisa asked me to pick up …”

“Makeup?” Polly offered. “I’ll bet the dear wanted her blushes and eye shadow and lipstick. And how lovely of you to stop by the jail to support our friend in need. When did you see our lost lamb?”

“Um, after rehearsals yesterday. Last night,” Ped-Xing corrected. “Yeah, she looks like hell. You would too, if you were a maniacal killer and were stuck in a hellhole like the Beverly Hills jail. Can’t be easy to know you’re on your way to the chair!”

“Imagine all those volts of electricity crackling along your nerve endings and baking your insides like a potato in the microwave?” Polly shivered. “Shall we wait for you to collect the stuff for which you broke into the apartment, and then we all leave together?”

Ped-Xing and Michael looked at each other. “We didn’t break in,” Michael said. “The door was unlocked.”

“We may take a while,” Ped-Xing said. “Then we’ve got to get right back to the studio. We’ll see you at rehearsal on Friday.”

Polly looked at Michael. “You certainly work fast, dear. One minute you’re bossless, and the next—literally—you’re working again. For Ped-Xing! Bravo!”

A surreptitious look exchanged between Ped-Xing and Michael was not lost on Polly or Tim and Placenta. “On that lovely note, we must be shoving off,” Polly
nounced. “I promised Lisa that she’d have her panties ready by orifice inspection time tonight.” She made kissy-kissy sounds at Ped-Xing and Michael. “See you on set!” she called back as she stepped out of the apartment. “You little weasel,” she muttered, just loud enough for Tim and Placenta to hear.

Chapter 9

“P
icking up Lisa’s makeup? Give me a break!” Polly spat as she dumped the load of clothes into Placenta’s arms, then walked out of the building. “I may be dumb about a lot of things kids do today, but I’m not entirely stupid. I clearly heard him say, ‘She’s the only one who could have
them.’
Them what? Blush? Bronzer? Lip-gloss? Not!”

“He lied about seeing Lisa last night,” Tim added. “Visitors aren’t allowed. Nor is makeup.”

“We need to find out what they were really doing in Lisa’s apartment,” Polly said.

“Same thing we were doing, no doubt,” Placenta said as she clutched the clothes and gingerly stepped along the uneven sidewalk. “They were looking for something. Something obviously important.”

“And now they probably think that we were after the same thing,” Tim said.

“We don’t even know what it is,” Placenta added.

“Something incriminating, of course,” Polly said. “Or something to cover someone’s hiney. Whatever it is, it’s valuable. Otherwise a contestant wouldn’t risk
his shot at fame by breaking into an apartment that was sealed by the police.”

“Not so fast,” Tim said. “Don’t forget, the show is called ‘I’ll Do
Anything
to Become Famous.’ And the grand prize is a ‘get out of jail free’ card if they win. Breaking and entering is further proof of Ped-Xing’s determination to win. Maybe they weren’t really looking for anything. Maybe they just wanted to get caught for the appearance that Mr. Ped-Xing would go to greater lengths than his competition.”

The trio arrived at their car, and Placenta tossed Lisa’s underclothes into the trunk. She withdrew a bottle of Veuve from the built-in refrigerator and they all settled into the plush leather seats of the vehicle and made their way back to Sunset Boulevard and the drive to Bel Air.

“And what’s up with the little dork playing his sidekick?” Polly asked about Michael.

“I’d say he’s helping the thug prove that he’s the most nefarious, and thus entitled to be the show’s winner,” Placenta said. “After working for Thane, he probably has plenty of inside information.”

“Inside information,” Polly repeated. Snapping her fingers and knocking back what was left of the champagne in her glass, she sat up straight. “Of course! As Thane’s shadow, he would know as much about the behind-the-scenes aspect of the program as Lisa did working for Richard Dartmouth. In fact, they probably knew where all the bodies were buried, so to speak! Me thinks that Michael is helping Ped-Xing to win. He may be a clever little rat with a lot more going on upstairs than he lets on. I wonder how much of his bumbling twit persona was a stunt to keep Thane from thinking he had a brain? Thane wouldn’t have kept him around if he was a total bonehead.”

“Assistants often know more than their bosses,” Placenta agreed. “We collect a lot of bits of material, all of which could easily add up to lucrative feature stories in the
National Peeper
, or tell-all books.”

Polly raised an eyebrow. “You know this from personal experience? I do keep some secrets.”

Placenta grinned and stared Polly down.

Polly flinched. “Lisa and Michael both worked for the two most powerful men involved with the show. No doubt they had knowledge of things that were top secret. I suspect that Michael thinks that Lisa killed Thane for something that could potentially make a winner out of whoever knows the secret. I’ll bet my star on the Hollywood Walk of Fame!”

Tim spoke up. “Michael said something at the Polo Lounge that just came back to me. Remember when he quoted Thane in his dressing room as saying that Lisa was trouble?”

Polly and Placenta exchanged looks.

“Maybe, as you say, Thane’s death was more than just revenge from a spurned lover,” Tim continued. “Maybe he knew something that someone else didn’t want him to know. Something incriminating or illegal and the only way to protect their secret was to keep him silent forever.”

“What could be so terrible that one would commit murder?” Polly said. “Unless Thane was trying to get that annoying actress who played Monica on
Friends
into another TV series.”

Placenta held up her hands. “You’re the one who’s always saying that nothing in Hollywood is ever as it appears to be. But what if this is just obvious: a case of Lisa being dumped by Thane, and getting even with him for her battered pride?”

“No doubt Thane had plenty of experience with
women who ended up hating him,” Polly offered. “The jilted or rejected can do the most odious things in the name of retribution. When I discovered that your daddy had a crush on Florence Henderson, I sent all of his tuxedos to the cleaners and had the left pants legs altered three inches shorter. Men don’t seem to check their formal wear until the night of a big event. Goodness, dear Flo was surprised the night he escorted her to the People’s Choice Awards! Ha! That was one of my proudest moments!”

“So that’s why Miss Henderson can’t keep a straight face whenever we run into her,” Placenta said.

“And you thought I didn’t have any secrets!” Polly said.

“If Thane had any concerns about what Lisa might do for vengeance, I doubt that he’d invite her over to his house,” Tim said.

“We only have her word that she and Thane were together that night,” Placenta said. “She very easily could have waited until he was asleep, entered the house, then wedged that knife between his shoulder blades while he was dreaming about Taco Bell and what mean and nasty things he would say to make her cry on the next show.”

“But that’s precisely what the police are saying,” Polly said. “I may have been persuaded to go along with that, even after our visit with Miss Marrs. However, now that we know that Ped-Xing seems, for some reason, to be interested in the crime, I’m not so sure the girl is lying. What if Ped is the nut job who pulled the trigger? Or, rather, pushed the blade?”

As Tim signaled to turn right and drive through the arched entrance to the Bel Air east gate, Placenta said, “I recall the rules of the show stating that judges were forbidden to initiate interaction with any contestant
outside of the parameters of the program. But the rules didn’t say that the contestants couldn’t see the judges.”

“You’re splitting hairs,” Tim said as he drove the car up Stone Canyon Road. “Judges and contestants together, contestants and judges. A great big no-no!”

“Technically,” Polly said. “I’ll check the manual. But for instance, if Danny came to me and wanted advice about his performance, it would be unethical for me to help, but it wouldn’t exactly be against the rules.”

“So here’s an idea,” Tim said to his mother’s reflection in the mirror. “Hypothetically speaking, Ped-Xing schemes to coax his way into a judge’s life. He wants to get to the most important judge, so he befriends someone behind-the-scenes. In this case, Thane’s assistant, Michael.”

“Are you implying that I’m not the most important judge?” Polly said with wide-eyed annoyance.

“Michael, wanting to move up the Hollywood food chain, determines that Ped-Xing has the biggest cojones of any of the other contestants and guesses that the guy has what it takes to win the game and go on to a showbiz career. He agrees to help Ped-Xing get in tight with Thane in exchange for Ped-Xing taking him along on the next rung of the success ladder when he’s the world-famous winner of
I’ll Do Anything to Become Famous
.”

Tim pushed the remote control to open the gates to Pepper Plantation and entered the estate grounds. As he drove down the cobbled drive, Placenta chimed in. “Ped-Xing had everything to lose if he was stupid enough to seek out Thane for anything. After all, it would only take one word from Thane to Richard Dart—”

BOOK: A Talent for Murder
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