Beverly Hills Dead

36

After Rick and Glenna left, Vance sat alone in the suite, listening to some music on the radio and trying to read the Sunday papers. He thought of going out, but he wanted to be there when the hotel operator reached Susie.

He had dozed off on the sofa when the phone rang. He sat upright and reached for it. “Susie?”

“It’s Rick.”

“Oh, sorry.”

“You haven’t heard from her yet?”

“Not a word. I’ve checked with the operator twice, and she’s still calling every half hour.”

“I’m sure there’s a perfectly good reason she’s not at home. Maybe she had to do some last-minute shopping.”

“On Sunday?”

“Well, there is that. Look, why don’t you come out for dinner with us. We’ve been invited to a dinner party at some friends’ place in the Waldorf Towers. You can have the hotel operator forward any calls there.”

“Thanks, Rick, but I’m a little tired, and I want to be here when Susie calls.”

“All right. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“I don’t have anything in the morning, do I?”

“No, just lunch with some people from Life magazine at a restaurant called He Voisin, on Park Avenue and Sixty-third Street. It’s on your schedule. A car is coming for us at twelve-thirty.”

“All right. I’ll meet you downstairs at twelve-thirty.” He said good-bye and hung up.

Vance tried to read, then gave up and ordered dinner from room service. He was in bed by ten, after a final call to the operator. It took him a long time to get to sleep.

The phone in Rick and Glenna’s suite rang at ten-thirty the following morning, and Rick answered.

“Rick, this is Barry Feldman from studio publicity. I’m at L.A. Airport. The studio driver went to pick up Susan Stafford at Vance Calder’s house half an hour ago, and she wasn’t there. He paged me at the airport.”

“Maybe she forgot about the driver and took a cab,” Rick said.

“I don’t know why she would do that; she’s been driven to every appointment all week by the same driver, and she had asked him to pick her up at the house at six-thirty. Her plane takes off in twenty minutes, and I don’t know if I should try to hold it. I mean, if I knew she were on the way I could throw myself on the runway in front of it, but I’ve no reason to think that.”

“Did the driver ring the bell at the house?”

“Repeatedly and at every door. He said her car was parked out front with a lot of boxes and a suitcase in it, and the keys were in the ignition.”

“She was moving some things from her old apartment yesterday afternoon, so she must have come home. Can you reach the driver?”

“Not until he calls me back.”

“When he does, tell him to break into the house, if necessary, and if the cops come, to call me here for an explanation. She could be ill and unconscious.”

“I’ll go over there myself.”

“No, Barry. You stay there, in case she arrives.”

“Shall I try to hold the airplane?”

“What time is the next one?”

“Twelve-thirty, and she’d get to New York very late, what with the time change.”

“Don’t try to hold the plane. Just book her on the next one and wait to hear from either her or me. What number do I call to page you?” Rick wrote down the number and hung up. He called the studio and got the front gate.

“Hello?”

“This is Rick Barron. Have you seen Susan Stafford either come or go this morning?”

“No, sir.”

“How about yesterday?”

“I’ll check the log.” There was a moment’s pause. “No, sir, she wasn’t logged in or out yesterday.”

“Transfer me to the studio police line.” He waited, and a man answered.

“This is Rick Barron. You have pass keys to all the bungalows, don’t you?”

“Yes, sir, we do.”

“I want you to go first to Susan Stafford’s bungalow, open it and see if she’s there. If she is, she’s not answering the phone. Then go to Vance Calder’s bungalow and check there. I’m in New York; call me at this number from Vance’s bungalow.” He gave the man the number.

“Yes, sir. It should take me ten or fifteen minutes.”

Rick hung up.

Glenna, who had heard his side of the conversation, came and sat on the bed. “What do you think is going on?”

“I have no idea, but I’m worried.”

“Susie doesn’t seem like a prima donna. She wouldn’t just disappear, would she?”

“I don’t think she would; she’s always seemed very level-headed.”

“I’m going to shower while you wait for the call.”

“Go ahead.” Rick picked up the Times and tried to read it. Ten minutes later, the phone rang. “Hello.”

“Mr. Barron? This is studio security. I’m at Mr. Calder’s bungalow. Miss Stafford isn’t here, and she’s not at her own bungalow, either.”

“Thanks.”

“Anything else you want me to do?”

“Tell the front gate if she turns up at the studio to call me at this number.”

“Yes, sir.”

Rick hung up and called Vance’s room and brought him up-to-date.

“Something’s happened,” Vance said. “Susie wouldn’t do this.”

“I agree. Do you have the name and address of the girl whose apartment she was supposed to visit?”

“Her name is Henrietta Harmon, and she’s called Hank. She’s a script girl at RKO. I don’t know her address, but it’s in West Hollywood; she could be in the book. Shall I call there?”

“No. Let me handle it. I’ll call you when I know something.”

“Is our lunch still on?”

“I don’t want to cancel an interview with Life, then find out there’s some simple explanation for all this.”

“All right, I’ll get dressed and wait to hear from you.”

Rick hung up, got out his address book and called Tom Terry at home.

“Hello?”

“Tom, it’s Rick. We’ve got a problem.”