Dream Town

Chapter 4

Over the years Archer had learned that when someone said they thought another human being was trying to off them, they were either: hating their life and vying for attention; paranoid and beyond the help of someone like a private detective; or someone, indeed, was trying to kill them. With Eleanor Lamb he didn’t know yet if it was one of the three or whether he would learn a new reason.

“What makes you say that?” Archer asked as he nibbled on a handful of peanuts that Chasen’s put on every table. “Have you received any direct threats? And if so, from whom? And why haven’t you gone to the cops with them?”

“Geez, Archer, why don’t you give the lady the third degree or something?” exclaimed Callahan.

“It’s okay,” said Lamb. “Those are all pertinent questions. To answer them, no, I have received no direct threats. So I don’t know who might be behind it. And I don’t want to go to the cops, because it might cost me my job.”

“Why would your boss get mad about that?” asked Archer.

“If someone is trying to kill me, it might put the people I work with in danger.”

“And who do you work for?”

“Green and Ransome Productions.”

“Is there a Green and a Ransome?”

“Bart Green is a prominent producer who’s worked with everybody in town. The firm provides an array of services to the studios. Talent, writers, whatever is needed.”

“But I thought the studios did all that in-house.”

“Mr. Green was a big-time producer with Warners and then at MGM, so he has major connections. He’s got film projects going with pretty much every studio in town.”

“How did Danny Mars get in the loop to direct Davis?” interjected Callahan.

“He and Mr. Green are longtime friends. The old boys’ network, you know.”

“Yeah? Well, I’m waiting for the old girls’ network to kick in,” quipped Callahan.

“And Mr. Ransome?” asked Archer.

“Miss Cecily Ransome is an up-and-coming writer and director.”

“A woman director?” said Archer, glancing at Callahan.

“Girls do direct films, Archer,” said Callahan in a brusque tone.

Archer tacked back to Lamb. “Why exactly do you think someone is after you?”

Lamb took a nervous sip of her sherry and Archer watched an errant drop of it spoil Chasen’s fine table linen. “The first was a weird phone call I got about a week ago, at home. It was someone breathing heavy — a man, I think. It said that I was in danger.”

Archer hiked his eyebrows and lowered his expectations. “You didn’t recognize the voice?” She shook her head. “What else has happened that was weird?” he continued.

“I’ve gotten two hang-ups in the middle of the night. The phone rings and scares the hell out of me, but when I answer it, all I hear is breathing and then... click.”

Archer sat back, his interest waning. “Come on, that just sounds like some drunk or doped-up kids playing around. Next, they’ll be tee-peeing your house.”

“Really? Well, I woke up one morning to find my front door wide open.”

“Any signs that anyone had been in your house?” asked Archer. “Was anything taken, or moved around, or was anything left behind?”

She shuddered. “There was a bloody knife in the kitchen sink.” She paused. “Does that sound like drunk or doped-up boys?”

Archer leaned forward, engaged once more. “Was it one of your knives?”

She nodded. “A paring knife.”

“Where did the blood come from?”

“I have no idea. How could I?” She blinked her green eyes at Archer. “Wait a minute, are you implying that I put the knife there, covered in, what, my own blood! How dare you?”

Her voice had risen as she spoke and people at several tables looked over.

Archer leaned across the table and said in a muted voice, “I’m not implying anything, Miss Lamb. I just wanted to know if you had any ideas. And we don’t have to share your private business with the rest of the town, do we?”

She glanced around and lowered her gaze, and when she next spoke, her voice was barely a whisper. “Well, I don’t have any ideas. And there was a strange car on my street the past few nights. I think there was a man sitting in it.”

“You recognize him or the car?”

She shook her head. “It was a four-door Ford, dark blue I think. It’s hard to tell at night.”

“Okay, look, I think you should go to the cops. It might be nothing, some stupid guy just messing around with you. But it could also be more than that, especially with the knife and the blood. And the police know how to deal with that sort of thing. They can send a radio patrol car around. But tell me, have you broken up with anyone lately? Got any ex-boyfriends with a beef against you? How about the guy who was supposed to show up tonight?”

She shook her head dismissively. “We haven’t known each other long enough for him to get all creepy.”

Callahan added, “Most guys take a little while to work up to pure nasty. It’s Mother Nature’s built-in escape hatch for women. Darn nice of her.”

Archer had to smile at that one. “Anyone else with a problem?” he asked Lamb.

She shook her head but wouldn’t meet his gaze.

Archer studied her closely and came away certain that she was holding something back. “So are you going to go to the cops?”

“Can’t you help me?” she said in a pleading tone.

“I’m fifty a day plus expenses.”

“That’s not cheap.”

“Well, I don’t get all of it. I work for another guy. And it’s not like I work and get paid that much every day. I probably make less in a year than you spend on clothes. And most jobs don’t come with the possibility of getting shot or your neck broken.”

“Okay, I guess I can see that.”

“And I don’t live in LA. I usually rent a room at the Y to keep costs down. And there’ll be a contract for you to sign. I have some in my car.”

“Heck, Archer, you can stay with me for free,” said Callahan. “I have a spare bedroom now.” She gave him a friendly look that did not raise any possibilities other than sleep.

“I do like to get a $200 retainer up front. If I don’t work through it all, you’ll get the balance back.”

“I don’t have my checkbook with me. We’d have to go to my house.”

“Where do you live?”

“In a canyon in Malibu. Las Flores.”

Archer said, “That’s where the Sea Lion Restaurant is. Used to be the Las Flores Inn.”

She eyed him with what Archer regarded as unease. “You know Malibu?”

“Bad things happen in Malibu, too, you know.”

She looked at them nervously. “But Las Flores is a hike from here and you two are out on the town tonight. How about you come by my office tomorrow?”

“Where’s your office?”

“Off Wilshire near San Vicente.”

“Okay. Just write your home and office address down. I can get the check and have you sign the contract. And then we can head out to your house. Whoever is doing this obviously knows where you live.”

Lamb took out a piece of paper and pen from her clutch purse and wrote down the address of her office and also that of her house and passed it to Archer.

He glanced at it. “How do you like living in Malibu?”

“It was fine until all of this started up.”

“You’re near the Malibu Movie Colony. See a lot of stars out?”

“None that I can’t see in town,” she answered with pursed lips that puzzled Archer. He could understand her being gassed out on the celebrities of the day, but in his limited experience the movie business was built on relationships.

“Okay, what about your neighbors?”

“There’s one on either side of me. The Bonhams are currently in France. The other neighbor is Sylvia Danforth. She’s eighty, widowed, and lives with her cats.”

“So it’s doubtful the threats are coming from them?”

“Yes, very doubtful.”

“But what about the Bonhams? Anyone staying at their place while they’re away?”

Lamb glanced guiltily at Callahan. “Look, it’s New Year’s Eve, and you’re here to have a nice dinner. Come to the office around ten.”

“Not taking the day off then?” said Archer.

“For me, tomorrow is just another day. It’ll be quiet. I can get some actual work done.” She gave Callahan a peck on the cheek and disappeared into the crowd.

Callahan watched her go and then glanced at Archer. “So?”

“So what?”

“What do you think?”

He shrugged and lit up a cigarette. “I don’t think anything. Not yet. What do you know about her?”

“She’s from back east. Went to college there. Boston. She’s smart, well-read.”

“I thought I caught a bit of Yankee Doodle Dandy underneath the LA grease coating.”

“It does bother me that I didn’t know about her working with Mars on the Davis film.”

“Why would you know? And why would that bother you?”

“If you don’t know what’s going on in this town, you can’t take advantage of opportunities. I’d love to work with Davis. She’d eat me alive in every scene, but I could still make a splash, and the movie will be big news because she’s in it. And I could learn a lot.”

“How about Lamb personally? She seems a little high-strung to me. Is she prone to hysterics? She’s a writer, so her imagination must be good. Could she be making all this up?”

“No. She does her job and minds her own business.”

“Well, from what the lady said, she stopped curling and dyeing her hair blond and went back to her natural brunette with hair straighter than my spine. I wonder why.”

“She told you why. And she’s right, this town has too many damn blondes. The next time you see me, I might have pulled a Maureen O’Hara and all you’ll see is red.”

“Do you know Green or Ransome?”

“I’ve certainly heard of Bart Green. He’s done a lot, knows everybody, like Ellie said. I don’t know Cecily Ransome, though I’d like to.”

“Why?”

“She’s the change this town needs, Archer. Ransome is making pictures that are gritty, honest, and bone deep. I’d love to work with her.”

“If I meet her I’ll put in a good word. You ever been to Lamb’s house?”

“She had a one-bedroom in West Hollywood when I first met her.”

“So the move to Malibu was fairly recent, then?”

“I guess within the last two years or so. Is that important?”

“Malibu isn’t cheap, and most working writers like to be nearer the action. She’s not an heiress or anything, is she?”

“Not that she mentioned. And she never acted like she was in the money.”

Archer finished his smoke and killed it off in the ashtray. “Let’s eat.”

But his mind was now clearly elsewhere.