All That Glitters (25 page)

James rose and straightened his robe. His voice regained his ever-present dignity. “You were right, Mr. Donovan. Todd promised me this house.” He opened a cabinet and removed a black lockbox. He grabbed a key from a kitchen drawer, opened the box and retrieved two folded pieces of paper. “Of course, I insisted he put the agreement to transfer the property in writing.”

Annabelle snatched the document and read. She held it up. “Norman Carville's Last Will and Testament.”

“Let me see that!” Norman snatched the will from her and scanned the pages. “A complete forgery.”

“James, you weak, spineless jellyfish.” Todd pulled a .45 from inside his smoking jacket. He yanked Sonny from his chair and held the gun to the kid's head.

Laura's hand flew to her mouth. Annabelle drew her revolver. Gus did the same. I reached for mine, but Todd kept the barrel against Sonny's temple. “Put down your guns, or the kid gets a bullet in the same place as Eric.”

I had no doubt he'd follow through on his threat. Desperate men took desperate chances.

The two detectives exchanged uneasy glances. They set their guns on the table.

Sonny looked scared, but he struggled to pry Todd's arm from his neck.

I kept my hand close to the buttons on my jacket, inches from my .38. “You're not going to get away, and you're not going to hurt anyone.”

“Is that right? Who's going to stop me, you?” Todd eyes glistened, and the gun shook in his hand. He was no doubt facing the reality that his vengeful and greedy plan had crumbled. “Why couldn't you just stick to writing!” He tossed Sonny aside.

Annabelle and Gus lunged for their weapons as Sonny scrambled under the table. I drew my gun from inside my jacket.

Todd turned his pistol toward me.

I fired first.

The blast thundered in the room. Todd slammed against the wall. Mildred shrieked. Todd slid to the floor, leaving a smear of blood on the wall.

I kicked the pistol from his hand as the smell of gunpowder drifted throughout the room.

Annabelle and Gus scrambled to Todd's side.

Laura wrapped both arms around my neck and held me close. “You could have been killed.”

Lucky for us Todd wasn't an experienced gunman, just a wealthy bigot who paid someone to kill for him and another to take the rap.

Norman buried his head in his hands.

James sat beside him. “Are you all right, Sir?”

Tears welled in Norman's eyes, but he looked like he'd survive the night's events. “What do you think?”

I patted Norman's shoulder. “Sorry, Mr. Carville. I truly am.”

“Now I've lost both my sons.” Tears welled in Norman's eyes. “Why did he kill his brother?”

“When we met, Todd made it clear Eric was his half brother.”

“He never referred to him that way to me.”

“Todd's jealousy wasn't over a woman. He knew you saw more in Eric than you did in him. He wanted the studio for reasons of greed and power. The only thing standing in his way was Eric.”

Sonny scrambled from beneath the table and stood beside Todd.

Blood oozed from Todd's smoking jacket.

Annabelle checked Todd's pulse. “Someone call for an ambulance. I think he's going to make it.”

“I know where there's a phone.” Mildred jumped off her chair and ran up the stairs.

Annabelle grinned. “Did you intend to shoot him in the shoulder?”

“Of course.” I slid my gun into the holster inside my jacket. “I wanted you and Gus to have someone to arrest.”

Sonny hugged Laura and me. He buried his head against my arm and sobbed.

Annabelle took the white scarf from her neck and pressed the cloth against Todd's wound. “It's going to get busy around here.”

I hugged Laura and Sonny. “We're going to need more eggs.”

I enjoyed perhaps an hour of satisfaction over wrapping up Eric Carville's murder. Mildred praised my tenacity but quickly focused her attention on explaining that I needed to put that skill to use working on my novel.

Although I loved the peace and quiet and the financial advantages my writing career had given me, I'd never get over the thrill of the hunt, solving cases, and seeing greedy bastards like Todd Carville behind bars.

Laura was thrilled we could put Eric's murder behind us and concentrate on enjoying our future together. Others weren't so happy.

Annabelle and Gus took plenty of heat for arresting two suspects in two days. Laura's costars, Christine and Roland, didn't try to hide their resentment that they weren't at the Carville house to witness Todd being pinched. Their bitter feelings, no doubt, came from Laura's name and mine appearing in the paper and not theirs.

Pat Lonigan and Louella Parsons delivered their resentment in person at our hotel. Their stories about Angie Burkheart's arrest appeared inaccurate and premature, and brought their credibility into question.

Pat forgave me after we tipped a few glasses of Canadian Whiskey. Louella hounded me to come on her radio show and reveal how I solved Eric's murder. I said no the first few times she asked, but eventually I began weakening.

Todd Carville's arrest muddied the outlook for Laura's career. I'd never comprehend how any of this was my fault. Laura didn't blame me, but I grew concerned Norman Carville did. He wouldn't return my phone calls, or Laura's. The only communication came by way of a telegram from the studio informing Laura filming had been halted on
Midnight Wedding.
Louella's latest column suggested the picture would never be made.

I knew Laura was worried that I'd ended her time at Carville Studios, and likely her movie career. I had to set things straight with the old man.

Two days after the omelets at the Carville Estate, we finished helping Mildred pack for her trip to the airport. It was my self-absorbed, though talented editor, in a rare display of concern over Laura's career, who suggested we make one more effort to contact Norman. We had just enough time to stop by his estate before Mildred's plane took off.

We still possessed the Chevrolet. I'd tried to return it to Gambino's club, but everyone played dumb about the car, as well as Gambino's and Leo's whereabouts.

On the drive, Mildred and Laura chatted like old pals, or perhaps at least new friends. We parked in the circular drive and approached the front door. I knocked, knowing James wouldn't answer. He was in the hoosegow, no doubt a few cells from Todd.

Footsteps came from inside the house, and Laura squeezed my hand. We both knew we faced the real possibility we might get the door slammed in our faces.

Sonny greeted us with a childlike grin. In a swimsuit and a Hawaiian shirt, he threw his arms around me in a warm hug. He hugged Laura and let us in. “Everyone's out by the pool.”

He escorted us through the house, chattering breathlessly about how he enjoyed living at Norman Carville's estate.

I blinked in the bright sunlight. I shaded my eyes toward a woman waving from the diving board.

Angie Burkheart, in a snug modern black swimsuit, bounced on the board and dove in, slicing through the water like a Coney Island harbor seal. Sonny tossed his shirt aside. He leaped, grabbed both legs, and shouted, “Cannonball!” His giant splash swept water over the pool deck.

Angie swam to the end of the pool, executed a flip turn, and backstroked toward the other end.

Mildred demonstrated her New York sneer that I knew so well. “What women wear these days!”

Norman sat at a shaded table, clutching a glass of milk. He grabbed his cane and struggled to his feet. “Jake, Laura, what a delightful surprise. Mildred, is it?”

He gestured toward the chairs around the table. We sat so we could all see the pool, as mother and son splashed and laughed in the water as if neither had a care in the world.

Norman looked as friendly as I'd ever seen him. Why then, hadn't he returned our calls?

“I'm glad you stopped by. I've been busier than I can ever remember. Without James, I've had to learn to fend for myself.”

Laura kissed his cheek. “We wanted to stop by to see if you're all right.”

Angie climbed from the pool. With her back to us she tugged the bottom of her suit, but she'd already showed too much of her butt. The old man, I suspected, was fine, more than fine.

She climbed on the diving board again and somersaulted into the water.

Norman applauded. “I'm grateful for your concern, but I'm doing well. Your arrival saves me a phone call. The
Midnight Wedding
hiatus has lasted quite long enough. I've decided to step back from the long hours. I spent the past couple of days hiring a director. Filming starts next week.”

Mildred's gaze darted between the old man and the young mother swimming laps in the pool. Her face twisted in disgust, revealing her disapproval of a May–Decemb
er…late December, romance.

Norman sipped the milk and shuddered. “At first, I blamed myself for what Todd did, but he has only himself to blame. As for me, Sonny and his mother are helping me achieve balance in life. All work and no play makes Norman a dull bastard.”

Laura looked like she agreed with Mildred. “Sonny's still living here?”

“The boy's been through a lot; so has Angie. After what Todd put her through, I feel I owe them both.” Norman held up his milk. “Besides, she's done wonders for my health.”

I could only imagine.

“I bet she has,” Mildred muttered so only Laura and I could hear.

Norman sipped from the glass then glanced over his shoulder at a potted palm. He poured the milk into the pot.

Angie swam to the steps and climbed out. She grabbed a towel and dried herself before coming over. “Don't get up. I wouldn't want to get any of you wet.”

I checked my watch and rose. “I wish we could stay longer, but we have to drive my editor to the airport.”

“How time flies.” Mildred rose from her chair, appearing more than anxious to leave. “Wouldn't want to miss my flight.”

Angie's voice cracked. “I'll never be able to thank you and Laura enough for keeping me from making the biggest mistake I've ever made, and I've made plenty. You saved my future and Sonny's career.”

Murder cases seldom worked out to anyone's satisfaction. “I'm glad we were able to help.”

“Let me walk you to the door.” Norman grabbed his cane.

Angie's eyes widened with delight. She picked up Norman's empty milk glass. “You finished it all! Would you like more?”

He shook his head. “Not right now.”

Inside, Laura asked, “Does Angie have any legal issues?”

“What did she do? Told a lie and got arrested.” Norman dismissed the question with a wave. “Any word on the whereabouts of Leo De Palma?”

“Rumors, that's all.” Rumors I shared only with Laura. The cops hadn't located Leo. Only one person reported seeing him since the night of Todd's arrest, one of Pat's sources who spotted him in the backseat of a black sedan, along with Slick Ray Gambino.

Men in Gambino's profession didn't tolerate subordinates performing outside work. That kind of behavior challenged a boss's authority. The mob handled violations of their rules more swiftly and efficiently than any court could.

Norman stood in the doorway. He kissed Laura on the cheek and wished Mildred a safe flight. I shook his hand and climbed into the Chevrolet.

On the drive to Mines Field, Laura and Mildred chatted about the difference in age between Angie and Norman. I'd never known Laura to criticize a woman's love life. She, as much as any woman, sympathized with the stresses of single life, especially for a single mother like Angie. She must be playing a part. Whatever the motivation, Mildred appeared to enjoy every moment of the drive.

I tipped an attendant to take Mildred's bags to the plane. Laura and I walked her to the gate, where a handful of travelers approached a sleek new twin engine Boeing 247.

I whistled. “That's some plane. Looks roomy and comfortable.”

“And seats fourteen mostly rude and foul-smelling travelers.” Mildred kissed my check and gave Laura a peck. She blinked away what appeared to be tears.

I handed her a handkerchief. I'd known Mildred for five years, and this was the first evidence I'd seen she even had tear ducts.

Mildred dabbed at her eyes. “I'd never be able to live in California because of this damn hay fever.” She glanced at a half-dozen passengers entering the plane. “When you two come back to New York, after Laura's movie is finished, I suggest an unhurried, relaxing train ride.”

We hadn't discussed what we'd do after the movie wrapped up. Return to New York or stay in Hollywood.

Laura slipped her arm in mine. “Actually, Jake and I talked about taking a romantic getaway.”

Mildred squeezed Laura's hands like my opinion didn't matter. “What's more exotic than New York?” My editor hugged me a final time. “Don't forget to write…your novel.”

“I'll have a draft manuscript completed by year's end.” Of that, I had no doubt.

“Wonderful. By then Prohibition will be repealed, and I'll be able to celebrate legally.”

Mildred took several steps toward the plane then stopped and called out over the drone of a departing plane, “Jake, take care of Laura.”

I waved. “We'll take care of each other.”

A pretty blond attendant helped Mildred climb up the steps and into the plane. She followed her inside and closed the airplane's door. Laura and I watched as one engine then the other turned over. After an airport worker wheeled away the steps, the plane taxied down the runway. A minute later, we waved as the wheels lifted off.

Laura slipped her arm in mine as we headed back to the terminal. “I think I'm actually going to miss her.”

“Words I never expected to hear you utter.”

We entered the terminal, reminding me of our recent arrival at the train station. Had it only been eight days? Fate had immediately sidetracked our plans, but we were now back on track.

The unfortunate experience of being a murder suspect was behind me. Laura could concentrate on making movies, and I'd finally be able to work on my novel, like we originally planned. I couldn't wait to get started. “Would you mind if I borrow a typewriter from the hotel and work on my novel this afternoon? Then I'll take you to dinner. Just the two of us.”

“Under one condition.” Laura kissed me. “No more detective work!”

I held my hand over my heart. “My gumshoe days are a mere faded memory.”

A tall woman with short hair and a brown leather jacket approached. “Laura!”

I'd met a lot of famous people since we arrived, but none enjoyed the fame of this woman. I couldn't wait to meet her.

“Amelia.” Laura hugged her and introduced us. “Jake Donovan…Amelia Earhart.”

The world-famous aviatrix thrust out her hand.

I shook her hand. “How do you two know each other?”

“We met in New York when you were in Florida,” Laura explained. “Amelia came to one of my plays.”

“It was one of the toughest tickets in town to get. Fortunately, after the final curtain, I managed to talk my way backstage. Within minutes of meeting, we were like sisters. How long has it been?”

“Almost two years.”

Amelia snapped her fingers. “The New Year's Eve party at the Astoria. You wore that scandalous red dress that…” She glanced at me, as if for the first time, and her voice trailed off.

Scandalous red dress? One I'd never seen Laura wear.

“That old thing?” There was no mistaking Laura's nervous laughter or Amelia's sudden unease. Laura held up the diamond on her left hand. “I forgot to mention. Jake and I are getting married!”

The two strong-willed professional women squealed like schoolgirls.

Amelia kissed my cheek. “I'm so glad you came to your senses.”

“So am I.” We followed Amelia across the terminal. I never recalled Laura having a red dress. “What brings you to Los Angeles?”

“Hollywood!” She answered with breathless delight. “Two months ago, my husband helped me pitch a story idea to Paramount. They loved the concept about a pilot testing a new safety device. The movie's called
Wings in the Dark,
and filming starts next year with Myrna Loy and Cary Grant.”

Laura practically squealed again. “Cary Grant!”

Amelia's eyes widened. “I know!”

I rapidly felt like a third wheel.

“I'm going to use the movie money”—Amelia stopped beside a newsstand before we reached the front entrance—“to finance the world's first transpacific flight next year.”

“The Pacific!” Laura gasped. “I have no doubt you'll be the first.”