Remains to Be Scene (24 page)

“Here’s an idea,” Placenta offered. “Perhaps Missie signed to do Adam’s production of
DNA
. Suppose she and Adam knew what a piece of crapola picture
Detention
was and they were stuck with it on their resumes. They might kill to get out of doing that film. Maybe they
did
kill. Maybe Trixie Wilder was a victim of a crime, too, rather than just old age. Perhaps they figured the
Detention Rules
production would be shut down if a cast member died under suspicious circumstances and they’d be able to escape the career-wrecking reviews that were sure to follow. I can only imagine what Joel Siegel would have said. They didn’t count on a dumb coroner who pronounced Trixie’s death natural. Too soon everyone returned to work.”

“Production resumes and they’re more desperate than ever because Trixie’s replacement is a terror,” Polly said.

Tim added, “But then a silver lining appears in the form of
DNA
. Adam and Missie know that film could be a hit. But they need Sedra out of the way because supposedly she’s the writer and she won’t let anyone else be the star. Another on-set death would surely shut down production indefinitely. It’s a simple matter of killing two birds with one stone. Or one Stone being killed by two birds.”

“By eliminating Sedra, it paves the way for Missie to get the role, and for Adam to get ‘written and directed by’ credit,” Placenta said.

Polly thought for a moment. “This is so preposterous that I’m starting to think you two may have a brilliant idea after all,” she said. “Here’s a bit of a curiosity. I saw Missie and Adam and J. J. at The Ivy last night. I even mentioned to Missie that I thought it odd that she wasn’t in New York yet, since she’s supposed to start a film project the day after tomorrow. She ignored my comment.”

“The plot thickens,” Tim said stroking his chin. “I’ve got a proposal.”

“It’ll have to wait until after my bath,” Polly said, tired of playing V. I. Warshawski. She rose from her chair and snatched up her Bloody Mary. She took a long pull. “Your bizarre-o theories have made me dizzy and exhausted.”

“You’ll like this idea. I promise,” Tim declared. “You’re throwing a party.”

Polly smiled for the first time since waking up next to Detective Archer that morning. “What are we celebrating? New love?” she asked. “Randy and I have only had one date. I don’t want to jinx the affair by introducing him to all the eccentrics in our lives.”

Tim huffed. “He’ll fit in perfectly because the theme is Jail House Rocks!” he said. “Or rather, being released from the big house. We’ll bill it as a Welcome Back to Freedom party for Dana. She’ll be our guest of honor, and we’ll invite the cast and crew from
Detention Rules!
as well as all the big names from the police blotter. Robert Blake, of course. Macaulay Culkin, Nick Nolte, Kim Delaney, Vince Vaughn, Tonya Harding, Paul Reubens. Do you think your new salami could spring a Menendez—doesn’t matter which one—just for the evening? My God, Hollywood is such a mess that we need a bigger estate to hold all the cons!”

“Is that just a wee bit crass?” Placenta shook her head trying to imagine Pepper Plantation being turned into a lockdown cellblock.

“You don’t get it,” Tim said. “We’re bringing all the possible killers on our list together. Like a real-life game of ‘Clue.’ But here’s our spin. In our version we’ll put on a little staged reading. Can’t have a real Hollywood party without entertainment. This will be the world premiere, opening night, cold reading of
DNA
, written by Sedra Stone—as performed by the Off-Off-Off-Broadway troupe,
The Usual Suspects Ensemble
.”

Polly looked at Tim as if he’d lost his mind. “Dear, for the first time ever, I think one of your party ideas sucks.
Major
sucks. What would anyone trying to solve a murder mystery learn by having a group of Hollywood misfits read Sedra’s screenplay aloud in front of their peers?”

“I’m not completely sure, but I’m dying to find out,” Tim said. “Here’s our cast of stars…no supporting players: Dana Pointer, Missie Miller, Missie’s mother, Adam Berg, Jack Wesley, Duane Dunham, Judith, Ben Tyler, and we’ll get that stand-in Lauren Gaul to read the part of Sedra since they look alike. All of this in front of your police detective,” Tim smiled evilly. “Just go read the script,” he said practically shoving Polly into the house. “I don’t want to give away all the surprises, but here’s a big ol’ teaser: Dana Pointer is Sedra Stone’s love child. I have a sister. Now see if you can soak in a tub!”

Polly drained her glass and pushed it into Tim’s hands and said, “Make it a double.”

T
he bell-tone from the intercom at the front gate sounded and Placenta moved from her baking chores to the speaker next to the kitchen door. “Who the hell…?” she asked herself, as she looked at the clock. It was 11:15. She pressed the speaker button and changed her voice to a honeyed, “Good morning. May I help you?”

The response was from a familiar voice. “Hi, um, this is Kevin. Kevin Cartwright. From The Ivy? Miss Pepper left her reading glasses at the restaurant last night and I thought I’d return them in person.”

Placenta smiled. “Oh, heya, Kevin. It’s Placenta. Haven’t seen you in ages. Come on in.” Placenta pushed the button to release the estate gates automatically. She removed her apron, left the kitchen, and headed toward the front entrance hall. She checked her hair and make-up in the mirror before opening the door and stepping outside onto the front steps to greet Polly’s favorite waiter. When his Honda Civic came to a stop next to the Rolls, he switched off the ignition and stepped out of the car.

“Those cheap old glasses?” Placenta called as Kevin approached. “You’re a dear to bring them by, but Polly’s got dozens more. They all look alike. She’d never have noticed one missing.” When Kevin reached the steps, Placenta accepted a chaste hug hello.

Kevin smiled and looked at the leatherette eyeglass case he held in his hand. “I got the impression that Miss Pepper had more on her mind last night than whether or not she could read the menu,” he said, chuckling lightly.

Placenta snorted. “Let’s just say she finally scored. Do you have time to say hi to Polly yourself?”

Kevin’s smile widened. As a waiter in one of the trendiest restaurants in Los Angeles, he was far from starstruck. It wasn’t in his mindset to meet celebrities just for the sake of meeting them. He found most of them to be arrogant, impatient, and way too fussy for him to care much about anything more than doing his job and earning a sizable tip. But several had become more than just customers. Polly Pepper was one of them. Because he was always professional and genuinely friendly to her, she in turn, treated him with much graciousness. During the two years that Kevin had been employed at The Ivy, he and Polly had developed a mutual fondness for each other. He sincerely liked her and Tim and Placenta. And they very much liked him, too.

“Actually, there is something I’d like to tell her, if she’s available,” Kevin replied.

Placenta took his hand and guided him into the house. “Wait outside by the pool. I’ll bring some lemonade. Tim’ll be glad that you’re here, too,” Placenta added with a wink of her eye, as she escorted Kevin through the living room, kitchen and finally to the back yard. She pointed to the patio table. “Make yourself comfortable. They’ll be out in a sec.”

In only a moment, Tim was vaulting through the doorway that lead from the kitchen to the outdoors living area. “Kev!” he called out, moving toward the guest. “Polly wasn’t embarrassingly provocative last night, was she?” he asked conspiratorially and with a knowing grin as he sidled up to Kevin and gave him a hug. “You’re here to warn us that the town is buzzing about Polly Pepper’s night on the town with a secret male admirer, right?”

Kevin smiled, first because he was glad for the hug, and because he enjoyed Tim’s camaraderie. “Wait’ll you see the shocking photos in
The Peeper
!” Kevin chuckled. “But hey, who can tame wild and rapacious love? And the dude she was with was sort of almost bordering on semi-attractive.”

“Like you,” Tim gave Kevin’s shoulder a mischievous shove. “Bordering.”

Kevin parried and gave Tim a slightly harder shove and stared for a long moment into Tim’s eyes. He was about to say something, when their cavorting was interrupted by Polly emerging from the house, closely followed by Placenta who was bearing a tray of glasses filled with lemonade.

Dressed in a youthful outfit of blue jeans and ruffled floral V-neck blouse, Polly wore a wide smile and insinuated herself between Tim and Kevin. “You sweetest of men,” she said to Kevin and planted a kiss to his cheek. “I’ve been looking for these glasses all day. You’ve saved not only my eyes, but my fashion statement!” she gushed.

Kevin obliquely looked at Placenta who rolled her eyes in a “don’t believe the drama” shake of her head.

“Not a problem,” Kevin assured Polly. “Service with a smile. And since you’re not an ex-wife of O. J. I figured I’d be fairly safe personally returning them directly to you. Oh, and I also wanted to rat out your stingy so-called friends from Table 43 last night. To heck with ethics. A measly ten percent tip does not warrant my loyalty. You asked me to keep my ears open. I heard some stuff. I have no idea what it means, but maybe you will.”

Polly gave Kevin another hug and said, “They’re hardly friends, dear,” she said. “The decent looking guy with the goatee was my director on a lousy piece of film I did a few days ago. Missie Miller you have the dubious pleasure of already being familiar with. And the other guy is my so-called agent. A motley crew! Let’s sit.”

The group settled into the heavy wrought iron chairs around the patio table. After Placenta served the glasses of lemonade, she, too, pulled out a chair and sat down. All eyes were focused on Kevin.

He began, “So after you and your date left—by the way, you guys look cute together—I hung around their table as much as possible. When I heard your name and Sedra Stone mentioned in the same sentence, I was intrigued. Anyway, they were talking softly. But, having to work outside on that busy boulevard, I’ve somehow developed pretty good hearing in order to understand what my customers are ordering. So this trio had no idea that I could pretty much hear their entire conversation. Better yet…” Kevin paused.

Polly knitted her penciled eyebrows and looked deeply into Kevin’s eyes. She could tell that Kevin was embarrassed by something, but waited for him to continue the conversation on his own.

“I’m not proud of this Miss Pepper. I swear, I would never, ever do this to
you
…or anyone that I liked…”

Tim took a sip of lemonade. “We know that you’re not one of those horrible waiters who feeds the tabloid papers with the gossip you overhear at work.”

Kevin, too, took a sip of his lemonade. “As a matter of fact, as much as I hate that gossip monger Tiffany Jones and her stupid ‘Dirty Dishes’ segment on ‘The Peeper P.M.’ show, where she talks about what
she
supposedly overhears at restaurants, she pays me five grand a month to keep an ear open for anything anyone might say about a certain celebrity. I can’t name names because she made me sign a confidentially agreement. Let’s just say he’s—um, rather,
the
nongender-specific star—is sort of the biggest on the planet. Tiffany got me this incredibly expensive recorder and microphone that picks up every syllable from a conversation, even in a noisy restaurant.”

Kevin removed a business card size tape recorder from his pants pocket and laid it on the table. “It’s feather light, but God it picks up everything!”

Polly frowned. “Kevin. Sweetie. How on earth did you get caught up with that horrid Tiffany Jones? She’s got the biggest mouth in town. She’s the first to report all of the most vile and private stories of the rich and famous.”

Kevin scratched the back of his neck and lowered his head. “I’m ashamed of myself,” he admitted. “But on a waiter’s salary, I need the bucks to live in L.A., and it’s only one actor. Um, one nongender-specific
celebrity
, that is. And frankly, he…um, the
celebrity
…has never even been to The Ivy. Probably never will be. He, um, the
star
, is too famous. So I figured my chances of ever having to fink on the nongender-specific
star,
were almost nil. But this dandy recording device certainly came in handy last night. After you left, Missie Miller and your director had a lot to say. And I’ve got it all on tape. I brought it over to give to you. As a matter of fact, your reading glasses aren’t in that case. You didn’t bring glasses with you last night.”

Now that the conversation was suddenly about how Kevin’s covert work was somehow a benefit to Polly, she changed her attitude. “Just so you know that I’m not a one hundred percent moron, I knew these weren’t mine the moment I saw leatherette! Everybody knows that I’m strictly a Coach girl! But I played along. I figured you had an ulterior motive for dropping over.”

“Yada, yada,” Tim said. “What’s on the tape that’s so important?”

Placenta picked up the tape recorder. “This is smaller than a Nano!” she exclaimed. “I want one! There’s so much dirt that goes on in this house. For five grand, I’m willing to sell my best material to that foul mouthed, crazy-haired, collagen bloated bimbo Tiffany! I can’t stand showbiz news, but I may as well make a profit from what I know!”

Kevin looked at Placenta, and in a show of his earnestness, told her to be his guest and keep the spy equipment. “I haven’t any use for it now. Let me show you how to work this thing so you don’t accidentally erase what’s on the tape.”

“Push play and let’s find out what Missie and Adam and J. J. were up to,” Polly said.

“Just don’t shoot the messenger,” Kevin pleaded. “That Missie must have taken vocabulary lessons from David Mamet. She plays pious, but the mouth on that woman is utterly obscene. And what she says about you and Sedra and Tim and Placenta…”

“Placenta?” Tim said.

“Tim?” Placenta asked simultaneously.

Kevin picked up the recording device. “This is the ‘play’ button, he said and pushed it. Missie’s voice began tumbling from the speaker.

After twenty minutes of listening to the tape, Kevin reached over and turned off the machine. “This is where it ends,” he said. “They get up and make the rounds of other tables before leaving the restaurant.” Kevin faced blank stares of Polly, Tim, and Placenta who were stupefied by what they’d heard. “Hard to believe, isn’t it?”

Polly shook her head in despair. “As a matter of fact, it’s not such a stretch, now that I see more clearly,” she said. “What’s hard to comprehend is that we didn’t recognize all the signs sooner. I mean, the lengths that fans and social climbers and money grabbing ne’er-do-wells will go to achieve their undeserved end never fails to astound me.”

Placenta’s adrenaline rush from what her ears had absorbed began to fade and she realized aloud that murder has always been part of the divide between the haves and have nots.

Tim, too, finally recovered from the shock and looked at Polly. “You’re right. Now it all seems so obvious…and down right pathetic. Are you going to call Detective Archer and share the news?”

Polly thought for a moment, then abruptly stood up. She walked to the poolside bar with her half-full lemonade glass and poured two fingers of vodka. She stirred the mixture before taking a long pull. “I think the good detective is still in trouble with the District Attorney for paying attention to my suggestion that Dana might be the killer they were after. It would be better if we let Randy come to the right conclusion by himself. He does have a healthy ego about his ability to sniff out criminals.”

Polly returned to her place at the table. She took another pull from her drink and looked intently at Kevin. Then she reached out and placed her hand on his. “Can you get next Saturday off, dear? We need you to work at Pepper Plantation. Tim is organizing one of my marvelous soirees.”

“I am?” Tim said.

“This is a very special event,” Polly continued. “We’re welcoming the entire cast and crew from that movie I was working on,
Detention Rules
, the one on which Sedra gives her second to last performance.”

“Second to last?” Tim blanched. “I know you wield a lot of clout in this town, but a resurrection is a bit much, even if you called up Oprah for help.”

“Oh, Sedra will be here, alright. Well, at least a part of her…the dialogue and stage direction that she left behind in a screenplay called
DNA
.”

Tim smiled. “Ah! So you liked my idea of giving a staged reading of her movie script,” he brayed. And then he caught up to Polly’s thinking and his jaw dropped. “You’re smarter than the average bear!” he practically shrieked. “Sedra’s script actually reveals the killer! And Kevin’s cassette tape corroborates it. You’re brilliant!”

Placenta smiled too. “If you’re going about this the way I think you are, then you’d better warn Detective Archer to have his handcuffs ready.” Placenta cackled loudly as she imagined the forthcoming party and the melee that would surely follow. “The party is one week from today!” she exclaimed. “Let’s get going. There’s tons to do!”