Beverly Hills Dead

58

Rick was about to go home for the day when his secretary announced that Vance Calder wanted to see him.

“Send him in,” Rick said and stood up to greet the actor.

Vance came in, looking a little somber, shook Rick’s hand and sat down.

“How are rehearsals going?” Rick asked.

“Very well. In fact, I think we’re ready to start shooting the day after tomorrow.”

“Has Hattie caught up with you on the script?”

“She has it down cold. By the way, Sam Sparrow thinks we should shorten the title to Village Girl.”

“What do you think?”

“I like it better.”

“It’s okay with me, then. Will you tell Sam for me?”

“Sure. Rick, I got a letter from Hank Harmon.”

“Really? What did she have to say?”

“It’s two letters, actually: one to me from Hank and one to Hank from Susie.” He took two sheets of paper from his inside pocket. “I’ll read them to you.”

“All right.”

Rick nodded. “I believe she left a note to that effect for the police to find, and apparently they are no longer certain that Hank was the killer. They found some fingerprints in Susie’s car belonging to someone named P. J. O’Toole, who had a record of arrests for rape in Arizona but no convictions. They’re looking for him now.”

“I’m glad to hear that,” Vance said. “Do you want to hear Susie’s letter to Hank?”

“If you want me to.”

“Yes, I’d like you to, and then I’ll destroy it.” Vance unfolded the letter and began to read.

“Do you want to see it?” Vance asked, holding out the letter.

“No, that’s not necessary, but I’m glad you read it to me. I think you’re right to destroy it.”

Vance took a box of matches and an ashtray from Rick’s desk and burned the two sheets. “There,” he said. “Now life can begin again.”

The two men shook hands, and Vance left.

Rick went home and told Glenna about the two letters.

“The poor girl,” Glenna said. “I hope they get the bastard who killed her.”

“They’ll get him,” Rick said. “It will just take time.”

Sid Brooks got off the airplane and looked for an L.A. paper. He had already read the Washington Post, but he wanted to know that all L.A. would know that he had been cleared. He found only a two-paragraph story on an inside page, but at least it was there.

When he got home he found messages from both Hy Greenbaum and Rick Barron on his service. He called Hy first.

“Hey, Sid. Welcome back and congratulations,” Hy said.

“Thank you, Hy, and thank you for talking me into testifying again. You were right; it was the right thing for me. What else do I have to do?”

“Not a thing, Sid. You’re back in business. Eddie Harris has worked out a deal with a network for a two-hour show on Saturday nights, starting in September. I know Rick told you about this. Do you want to do it?”

“Yes, if you like the deal.”

“I’ve been back and forth several times with Rick on the phone, and we’ve worked out what I think is a very fine deal. It’s being typed now, and I’ll messenger it over to you first thing in the morning. Talk to me after you’ve read it, before you talk to Rick. You have an appointment with him for lunch tomorrow at twelve-thirty at the studio commissary to talk over details.”

“All right.”

“I can tell you that, if the show runs, this will be a rich deal for you. You’ll be paid both as a producer and a writer, and you’ll have a percentage of the profits. If it runs for three years, you’ll be a millionaire, and I think it could run a lot longer than that.”

“Wow, Hy, I hardly know what to say.”

“No need to say anything, Sid. My agency has a publicist on call who is going to see that your clearance gets noticed everywhere.”

“I’m glad to hear it.”

“Call me after you read the contract. If it’s okay, you can sign it when you see Rick.”

“I will, Hy. Good night.” Sid hung up the phone, and, almost immediately, it rang.

“Hello?”

“Sid, it’s Alice.”

He was speechless for a moment. “Hello, Al.”

“I saw the news in the Times; I wanted to congratulate you.”

“Thank you, I appreciate that.”

“I’m sorry not to have been able to talk to you before, but my lawyers wouldn’t let me; they were adamant.”

“I understand.”

“I have some news of my own.”

“Oh?”

“I’m getting married again.”

“Well, congratulations. Who’s the lucky guy?”

“Alex Bronsky.”

“How about that,” Sid said, since he couldn’t think of anything else to say. Alexander Bronsky had produced all his plays on the Broadway stage. “Alex is a good man. I hope you’ll both be very happy.”

“Thank you, Sid. The wedding’s this weekend at Alex’s place in Connecticut. Nothing big, just a few friends.”

Sid knew the Connecticut house well; he and Alice had visited there a dozen times. “That will be a lovely setting.”

“I know this won’t have occurred to you yet, Sid, but my getting married again means you won’t have to pay any more alimony.”

“You’re right; that didn’t occur to me.”

“My lawyers will send your lawyer a letter confirming that.”

“Thank you. Oh, I have more news, too.”

“Tell me.”

He told her about the television show. “So I’ll be spending a lot of time in New York. I’m sure I’ll bump into you and Alex.”

“That’s wonderful, Sid. I’m so happy for you.”

“Give Alex my best and congratulate him for me.”

“I will. Bye-bye.”

Sid fell asleep that night, feeling somehow whole.