A Talent For Murder Part 5

Polly was in heaven and played up her best character role: the humble yet ethereal supernova. "Dear, dear Jack," she said after catching a furtive glimpse of his name badge, "I'm only an international superstar because of darling people like you who continue to support me. Now, where shall we park?"

Jack looked at his list of authorized drive-on pa.s.ses. He shook his head. "I'm afraid you're not on the list, Miss Pepper."

Just as Polly's frozen smile was about to melt, Jack shook his head and said, "These dumb a.s.sistants today, they can't even call in a simple drive-on pa.s.s for a legend. I swear, Miss Pepper, this industry is filled with screwups at every level. You just go ahead and park wherever you feel comfortable. I'll call ahead and tell 'em you've arrived. Where did you say you were going?"

Tim gave Jack one of his most winning smiles. "You are so right about the kids in the business today. One of 'em was even stupid enough to kill Thane Cornwall and get caught. I suppose you heard all about that."

Jack gave Tim a serious look. "Mr. Cornwall was a piece of work, wasn't he? Whenever he came on the lot, he didn't even bother to stop at the gate. No matter if you're Clint Eastwood or Robert Redford, everyone is supposed to stop at the gate. And Mr. Eastwood and Mr. Redford always stop! They're right nice gentlemen, too. But Thane Cornwall just drove on through without so much as a courtesy wave."

Tim continued. "Anyway, Mom, er, Miss Pepper, brought a cake for the kids on her show, sort of a condolence present."

Jack peered into the car.

"It's in the trunk," Tim lied. "We're going over to the set to surprise everyone. No need to call ahead. We know the way."

"Sure thing," Jack said, writing on his clipboard. He looked at Polly once again. "And isn't it just like you to think of others during their time of grief? I wish that someone would teach these new stars how to behave like you and Betty White!"

Studio B on the Sterling Studio's lot was easy to access. There weren't any security guards or thick-necked bouncers standing sentry at the doors, so Polly and her troupe waltzed in. They knew their way around and soon found the rehearsal room. A window in the door confirmed what Polly had hoped for, that all five contestants were together, going through a group dance routine with the in-house ch.o.r.eographer. Tim quietly held open the door as Polly and Placenta slipped in to watch from the sidelines. However, every wall was floor-to-ceiling mirrors, so their presence was instantly known.

When the ch.o.r.eographer stopped yelling at her charges for making stupid errors in a simple dance routine, she called for a ten-minute break. With disdain dripping in her voice, she said to Polly, "They're all yours, Your Highness." Then she flounced out of the room in a huff.

The moment the door closed, Polly applauded the contestants and gave them an enthusiastic ovation. "You're already stars!" she said. "Sure, this part is drudge work, but you'll find that it gets into your system and you won't be able to live without aching feet and the feeling that you're just not good enough. And of course the inability to hold down your dinner when the announcer calls you to stage is just part of the job. Oh, those were such good times for me. I miss all those mornings when I was put through the wringer by my ch.o.r.eographer. s.a.d.i.s.t that he was, I adored his talent and dedication to making me look good."

As Polly continued pontificating about her past and the hard work it takes to make it in Hollywood, the five contestants slowly surrounded her, like a pack of jackals closing in on a kill. "But I'm not here to tell you all the things that you probably already know about me, or can easily find on Wikipedia, or my personal Web site, PPstarz.com. I simply wanted to express how sorry I am that we've lost one of our friends to the Grim Reaper. He appears out of nowhere, doesn't he? Mr. Reaper, I mean. One never knows when one will win the lottery ticket to heaven, or that other place."

"As in the case of Mr. Thane Cornwall," Ped-Xing said with a surly curl of his upper lip. He stepped closer to Polly. "If you think any of us are sorry that he left the planet, you're mistaken. If you ask me, his departure was delayed long enough."

Polly looked into Ped-Xing's eyes. "I'd like to believe that, in time, once we got to know Thane Cornwall better, he would have grown on us," she said.

"Like a fungus," Socorro said. "Thanks to Thane Cornwall, my entire family is being hara.s.sed and laughed at, in my own hood."

Polly shook her head. "I'd be upset too if I'd been nicknamed Taco Bell by a white man with an obvious prejudice against your lovely Mexican heritage. I agree, it was an insult, and Thane was extremely rude and heartless to call you that on national television. Not to mention that it's a trademarked name, and you could get into tons of trouble if you started using it without permission."

Socorro made a face. "I wasn't about to let that fool get away with it!"

Polly tenderly touched Socorro's shoulder. "Sticks and stones, and all that stuff."

Socorro shook off Polly's hand. "I know you're on his side, and you're going to say something stupid, like 'Thane may have been a self-absorbed, bigoted, misogynistic SOB, but n.o.body deserves the fate he got.'"

"As a matter of fact ..." Polly said.

"Well, guess what, he did deserve his fate! I'm glad he got it," Socorro said.

"So am I!"

Everyone looked at rock-star-skinny Danny Castillo, who wore his goth costume of a black T-s.h.i.+rt, black jeans, and black eyeliner, accessorized with black spiked hair, and a silver safety pin piercing his right eyebrow. "The dude had it coming," he added. "I may not be the best singer in town, but he didn't need to tell the world that my performance of 'Wind Beneath My Wings' stank more than a coop full of bird-flu-infected pigeons!"

"True," Polly agreed. "And how prophetic of you to tell him that his dead body would stink more than your wind."

Miranda Was.h.i.+ngton cleared her throat, then leaned in closer to Polly. "You had an on-camera snit with Thane Cornwall yourself, Miss Big Ol' Think You're Still a Star. So don't go looking at any of us like we're special or something."

I would never in a million years look at any of you that way, Polly thought. "I guess there isn't a lot of love lost between Thane and this dream team of rising stars. But you're not alone, dears. Someone disliked him enough to send him to an early grave."

"That Someone should have planned her revenge a little better, bless her heart," said Amy Stout. "When Thane suggested that I gargle with Drano to clean out my pipes, I knew exactly how I would have taken care of him."

"Any one of us could have done a better job of getting away with murder," Socorro added.

"Of course you could!" Polly said in her high-pitched squeal, which she had perfected in one of her most popular recurring variety show sketches in which she trips over Troy Donahue at the beach and goes berserk with excitement. Polly clapped her hands together. "Taco Bell, indeed!"

Chapter 6.

As Tim piloted the car down Sunset Boulevard, en route back to Pepper Plantation, he chattered about Danny Castillo and his goth persona. "Even with that scary outfit, I think he's sort of, kind of, um, adorable. You've got to admit his singing voice is definitely unique."

"In a chanting-requiems-to-Satan-during-bloodletting-human-sacrifice-rituals kind of way, unique," Placenta said.

"At least I could understand all the words to his song, 'Abra-cadaver'," Tim said.

"He's a potential murderer, dear," Polly called from the backseat. "Careful walking down the aisle with the Zodiac Killer." As she ticked off a list Danny's personality disorders, her cell phone's ring tone played "Puppy Love." Polly smiled and flipped open the device. "Is it you?" she purred.

"No, it's Hugh Jackman," Placenta said.

Polly giggled at something Detective Archer said; then she covered the mouthpiece and looked at Placenta. "Don't bother waiting up for me. If you get my drift."

"You're drifting a lot lately," Placenta cackled, and gave Polly a playful nudge with her elbow.

Tim looked into the rearview mirror to see a smug grin on his mother's face. She was famous, so even at her age she could potentially have all the beaux she wanted, but she was definitely smitten with Randy Archer. He looked at Placenta's reflection and said, "Let's make this maid's night off, and boy's night out! You and I are going club hopping." Placenta gave Polly a haughty smirk.

As her Park Ward Rolls-Royce entered the gated grounds of the estate, and rolled to a stop at the front entrance, Polly said, "Don't stay out too late, dears. First thing tomorrow, we're visiting jailbird Lisa in her new six-by-nine Beverly Hills accommodations, which I've paid for with my inflated tax dollars. If she's guilty, that's the way Madame Guillotine falls. However, since I don't completely trust our judicial system, especially after that time that Rita Wilson's snarky little gardener uprooted my Italian cypress and the arbitration judge ruled in his his favor, I want to hear the details of Thane's murder from Lisa's own lying lips." favor, I want to hear the details of Thane's murder from Lisa's own lying lips."

Polly turned to Tim. "Hon, find out where Lisa lives-or rather, lived lived. After our little tete-a-tete in B.H., I want a tour of the place she may never see again."

"And you"-she gave Placenta a hug-"please be a doll and set up a luncheon for us and that young man that we saw Thane thras.h.i.+ng the first day on the show. Let's say tomorrow. Noon. The Polo Lounge."

Placenta turned to Tim. "There goes our fun night out!"

Polly entered the house and quickly ascended the Scarlett O'Hara Memorial Staircase. "Bath time," she sang out. "I'm coming, Mr. Bubbles."

The family didn't see Polly again until she wandered back into the house at ten o'clock the next morning.

As Polly led her troupe into the lobby of the Beverly Hills Police Station, and sauntered up to the front desk, Polly sang out to the policewoman with the Adam's apple, "I'm hee-re!"

"I win, boys," the policewoman said to her colleagues. Then she looked at Polly. "We all wagered bets on how long it would take you to show up after prisoner 7189B was booked. I'm only off by three hours and fifteen minutes," she said in her raspy voice.

"We've missed you too, Wilma!" Polly smiled brightly.

"Wrong Flintstone. It's Betty."

Polly snapped her fingers. "Drat! That's who I meant!"

"You may as well save your act for the next Jerry Lewis Telethon, TV Star Lady, 'cause no one, not even you, can see this prisoner."

Polly's smile remained constant, although her voice took on a vague edge of irritation. "How do you know I didn't just pop in to invite you to dinner at the plantation?"

The policewoman stood up from her desk and rose to her full six-foot-plus height. "Promises, promises."

"Um, I absolutely did! I'll check my calendar and have Placenta give you a jingle."

"Sorry, Miss Pepper, but I have my orders," Betty said.

As Polly fruitlessly used all of her tricks and celebrity magnetism to convince the policewoman that she absolutely had to see and speak to Lisa Marrs, Tim met the gaze of another officer and wandered over to chat with him. In a few moments, Tim returned to his mother's side. He looked at Officer Betty and offered his most seductive smile. "Thanks for your time, ma'am. We'll be leaving." Tim took his mother by the elbow and guided her toward the front door. "I'll make sure that you're invited to dinner soon. I promise," he called back.

As Polly protested, Tim whispered, "Just hush for a few minutes."

As the trio exited the building and made their way back to the car, Tim looked at his watch. "Betty goes to lunch in five minutes."

Placenta cackled. "That cute rookie, Garrett-yeah, I saw you two, and I looked at his badge, too-promised to get us in to see Lisa?"

Tim smiled. "What good are blue eyes, dimples, and all those hours in the gym if I can't use 'em to get to home base? But we've only got twenty minutes!"

"Not bad son-in-law material," Polly said.

"All we need is a cop for Placenta and we'll have our very own Bel Air patrol unit."

Five minutes later, Polly, Tim, and Placenta were escorted down a long corridor toward the prison cells. When they reached Lisa Marrs's concrete room behind a steel door, Officer Garrett knocked on the shatterproof gla.s.s. "Ma'am, Tim, er, Miss Polly Pepper, is here to see you." He then looked at Tim. "The Abby? Seven o'clock?"

Tim smiled, his killer dimples revving the rookie's heart rate to NASCAR zoom-zoom. "Drinks are on me," Tim said.

Garrett then unlocked the cell door. "I'll be back in twenty. You have to be ready to run, or we'll all be in Poohville." He relocked the cage door and left the prisoner and her guests to their privacy.

Lisa Marrs looked unhealthily thin, and hadn't had a smear of makeup since being incarcerated. Polly opened her purse and withdrew a tube of concealer. She applied a dollop to her index finger and approached Lisa.

"What the h.e.l.l?" Lisa backed up against her bed.

"Just hold still for a teensy weensy moment, honey. Your pores are giving me the w.i.l.l.i.e.s." Polly cautiously applied the makeup onto Lisa's face. "There!" Polly announced as if completing the final touches on a work of art. "Doesn't that make you feel like a million?"

"Oh yeah. I'm in h.e.l.l, but I look good enough to date the homeless drunk in the next cell!" Lisa said. "Jeez, lady, you're as loony as Thane said you were!"

Polly was taken aback. "Then thank you for saving me from having to kill him myself!"

"I did not kill Thane Cornwall!" Lisa cried. "Why doesn't anybody believe me?"

"Maybe because you were caught in the act of doing the deed," Placenta said.

"But I wasn't! The maid came in after after I found Thane. She doesn't even speak good Englis.h.!.+" I found Thane. She doesn't even speak good Englis.h.!.+"

"Confess, dear. She saw you holding the knife," Polly declared. "You were the only wacko in sight."

"So what's your version of the story?" Placenta said. "You'd better make it interesting 'cause Polly Pepper's got a severe case of ADD, and the evidence is piled sky-high against you, babe."

"I've told everyone the same thing over and over!" Lisa implored. She was quiet for a long minute, then spoke. "Okay. Again. For the bajillionth time. I went to Thane's house because Richard Dartmouth sent me. You were there. You know that's the truth. I rang the doorbell forever. Then I decided to let myself in."

"If no one was home, why would you bother going inside?" Polly asked.

"Thane's Lamborghini was parked in the driveway. I figured he was there but ignoring me."

"If a person doesn't answer their door, it makes sense that they probably don't want visitors," Polly agreed.

Lisa shrugged. "That's what I thought. But Richard would have killed me me if I didn't drag Thane's b.u.t.t to the meeting. He's not as tolerant of his a.s.sistants as he is of the stars he kisses up to," she said. "He hasn't even come to visit me, or sent me a note of support." if I didn't drag Thane's b.u.t.t to the meeting. He's not as tolerant of his a.s.sistants as he is of the stars he kisses up to," she said. "He hasn't even come to visit me, or sent me a note of support."

"Okay. So you're outside the house, and..." Polly said.

"I remember that the security system wasn't activated."

"It was daytime," Placenta said.

"Yeah, but Thane was paranoid about being burgled ... or worse," Lisa said. "He kept the system activated twenty-four-seven."

"Of course, you knew the code because you'd used it often enough. Like the night before?" Polly said.

Lisa swallowed hard. "I suppose my affair with Thane is making news everywhere."

Tim sn.i.g.g.e.red. "I don't mean to laugh, but Daily Variety Daily Variety said, 'Psycho Secretary in Pillow Talk before the Big Chill.'" said, 'Psycho Secretary in Pillow Talk before the Big Chill.'"

"Then I'm probably as dead as he is."

"The media are having a blast playing up the jilted lover angle," Polly continued. "The Peeper Peeper is concluding that yours is a case of being cast aside for a new play toy." is concluding that yours is a case of being cast aside for a new play toy."

Lisa looked down. "That sums it up," she said almost in a whisper. "After we made love Friday night, the SOB told me I needed to join a gym."

"Yikes! That's insulting," Tim said. "Thane wasn't exactly G.o.d's gift."

"You can say that again. I got angry. I said I was leaving him. He laughed at me. He said that I was saving him the trouble of dumping me. He told me to get permanently lost." Lisa's voice broke as she cried.

For a moment, the entire jail cell was quiet. Then Lisa looked up and declared, "But he wasn't worth killing! I didn't do what they say I did!" She began to weep again.

Placenta withdrew a Kleenex from her pocket and handed it to Polly to give to Lisa.

"We don't have many ticks of the clock left, honey," Polly said, looking at her Cartier wrist.w.a.tch. "Fast-forward this melodrama. You're trespa.s.sing in Thane's house. You see ... what?"

"At first, nothing," Lisa continued. "Nothing unusual, that is. I didn't want to startle Thane, so I called out his name a few times. As I wandered through the house and down the hallways, I kept calling his name. I even went into the backyard, thinking he might be in the pool. Then I figured he was probably in the steam room, or in bed with someone, so I went to his suite. It's way in the back of the house, where he might not have heard me earlier. The door was closed. As I got nearer I listened carefully. I didn't hear anything. So again I called his name. No answer. I knocked on the door. Nothing. I suppose I should have called 911 before going in there, but I never expected ..."

"What?" asked Polly.