Authors: Ron Goulart

If Dying Was All (14 page)

BOOK: If Dying Was All

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“You’re back with Kim?”

“This is a different Kim.” Hagopian set the crimson bike against the back side of Easy’s office. “I met her last night. A lovely girl, wholesome. She jogs ten miles a day. That’s how I met her; she jogged across my lawn and happened to trip over the foot of one of the birdbaths. I went out and helped her up and we got to talking. A very wholesome girl.”

Easy headed back for his office. “Is that her bicycle?”

“Yes, exactly,” said the wide-eyed writer. “She’s a real outdoor person, John. Eats nothing but health food, runs ten or fifteen miles, cycles around the Glen. She’s terrifically wholesome. Her only real flaw is she’s got small tits. I would have thought all the exercise would have had more of an effect on her front. This girl isn’t in show business or modeling either.”

“What’s she do?”

“Works for
All-American Comix.
”

“Some underground publication?”

“Yes, she’s a cartoonist. Very gifted. She showed me proofs of some of her work. She has a very individual style. Everybody has a nose like a prick.”

“Ah, you artists,” said Easy. He sat behind his desk. “What’s going to become of Pam?”

“If she ever returns from Disneyland with my Jaguar and the tree man, I’ll explain to her we’re through.” Hagopian stretched out on the couch Easy’d been using. “I was reading the news teletype up at
TV Look.
Ned Segal made a confession, huh?”

“Yes,” said Easy. “He still had nearly $50,000 of Booth Graither’s money, hidden around his place out in the valley. Plus all the diamonds.”

“He never tried to sell them?”

“Afraid to,” said Easy.

“So he really did murder Jackie McCleary and Graither.”

“Segal had wanted to start his own agency,” said Easy. “That had been Segal’s idea since he came out here in 1962. Three years of hanging around the beach at San Amaro hadn’t put him any closer to it. Then along came Booth Graither and his suitcase full of cash.”

“It’s not only the movie and television people who are goofy out here,” said Hagopian. “The advertising people are, too. In fact, I think I’m crazier since I moved here.” He put his palms behind his head. “Back in Fresno I never had any girls borrowing my car.”

“You left Fresno when you were three.”

“Even so. There’s something in the air around LA, besides the smog and all. The longer you stay here the greater your chances of going completely blooey,” said Hagopian. “So Segal shot the two of them and left them on the island.”

“He shot Booth first, and apparently Jackie tried to get away,” said Easy. “Segal ran her down a quarter mile from where he’d killed Booth. He buried her where she fell. He said the idea of carrying her body around upset him. Booth, he dragged into the cave and buried.”

“The fires then,” said Hagopian. “Really, if we hadn’t had these fires Booth Graither and Jackie might have gone undiscovered.”

“I don’t know,” said Easy. “Too many people were involved in the original attempt to fake Jackie McCleary’s suicide. Eventually somebody would have talked, Judy Teller or Lee Ott. Some of the holes in Segal’s version of things would have showed up.”

“This way was simpler,” said Hagopian. “Have you seen old McCleary yet?”

“I phoned him about what’s happened,” answered Easy. “I’ll be visiting him tomorrow.”

“How is he?”

“The same.”

“Meaning?”

Easy said, “He still thinks Jackie is alive.”

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978-1-4532-5721-0

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