Beverly Hills Dead

Epilogue 1999

Rick Barron stood with a small group of people and an Episcopal priest in the marble hall of a mausoleum at Forest Lawn Cemetery. Glenna stood next to him, dabbing at her eyes with a tissue. The casket was slid expertly into the crypt, like a file drawer into its cabinet, and a man used a battery-operated drill to screw in a series of bolts, sealing the marble slab. Etched into the slab was:

Rows of similar crypts lined both sides of the hall, each with a legend of its own.

Rick was eighty-seven years old, and Glenna was eighty-four; they were great-grandparents. It was hard for Rick to believe that Vance had been seventy-one; he had looked older than his age when Glenna had spotted him at their construction site in 1947, and, remarkably, as he aged into his forties, Vance began to look younger than his age. That was a pretty good trick, Rick thought, especially if you were a movie star, perhaps the biggest ever. Vance had won his first Academy Award for Bitter Creek, the first of five Oscars and twelve nominations. Rick had won, too, as had the cinematographer. Susie Stafford had been nominated.

Vance’s young widow, Arrington, walked over to them, leading a man who appeared to be in his early forties. “Thank you for coming to the cemetery, Rick, Glenna.”

There had already been a very large funeral on a soundstage at Centurion, but only a handful of invited guests had come to the cemetery.

“I’d like you to meet my friend, Stone Barrington, who is a lawyer, from New York. Stone has been very helpful over the last week, since Vance’s death. Stone, this is Rick and Glenna Barron. Rick is the chairman of Centurion Studios, and Glenna is one of its greatest stars.”

“How do you do,” Barrington said, shaking hands with them both.

“I’m pleased to meet you, Stone,” Rick said. “I’ve been hearing about you.”

Arrington looked around. “There’s a place here for me, too,” she said, “next to Vance. He told me he bought these crypts fifty years ago. I suppose it’s a peaceful place to rest.” She turned to Rick and Glenna. “Do you need a lift home?” she asked.

“No, we have our car,” Rick replied. “You go ahead. I know you must be tired. Good to meet you, Stone.”

The two walked away, but Rick and Glenna remained for a moment. “Funny how everybody seemed to end up in this place,” Rick said. “Eddie and Suzanne Harris are right down there,” he said, pointing. Eddie had died of a stroke nearly ten years before, and Suzanne the year after. “Sol Weinman and his wife are a little farther down. It’s like Centurion Hall. And Leo Goldman, too.” Leo had blown his own brains out in what was thought to have been an accident, during the late eighties.[2] His wife had remarried soon afterward. Tom Terry had recovered from his gunshot wounds and was still alive in an old-age home out in the valley, having lost both legs to diabetes. Jerry O’Toole had been sent to the gas chamber at San Quentin in 1952.

Vance had died the largest stockholder in Centurion as well as its biggest star, having bought Sol Weinman’s widow’s shares. Leo had been a big stockholder, too, and upon his death, Rick had bought his shares from his widow.

“Yes,” Glenna said. “It’s Centurion Hall, and we have slots down there somewhere,” she said pointing.

“I forgot,” Rick said. “You ready to go home?”

But Glenna wasn’t listening to him. Instead, she was staring at another crypt. She moved closer. “Come here, Rick, and take a look at this,” she said.

Rick walked to her side and looked at the marble slab covering the crypt next to Vance’s. The legend read:

“And this one,” Glenna said, pointing to the next one down.

“My word,” Rick said. “Do you suppose this is a coincidence?”

Glenna shook her head slowly. “I don’t think so,” she said.

“I remember that Susie’s mother had said that funeral arrangements were being made for her in L.A. by a friend. I suppose that friend must have been Hank Harmon, who then joined her.”

“Are you ready to go to Malibu?” They had moved into the beach house full time after the girls were grown.

“Yes,” he said. “Let’s go home.”

They stood for a moment in silence, then the two old people turned and walked slowly toward their waiting car.