Video Kill

11


Monday, July 19





It was exactly nine-thirty in the morning when Tony got into the elevator at the Schwartzvold Building. George Sturges was right behind him. He hollered for Tony to hold the doors while he quickly checked his mailbox. Then he dashed into the elevator, which was making little upward bumping motions, trying to defeat Tony’s persistent hand on the door. George was wearing an orange warm-up suit, which made his normally ruddy face even redder.

“I hate jogging!” George winced as he reached out to press the button for his floor. “My boss took it up last month and now every junior partner has to jog. Give me a good laugh, Tony. Let’s see your shirt.”

Tony pulled open his jacket and let George read his shirt. This morning he was wearing a glaring red T-shirt with black lettering that said I MASH POTATOES WITH MY FEET.

“I don’t get it, Tony.”

“It’s a comment on my ancestry, George. I’m half Irish and half Italian.”

George was still laughing when he got out on the fifth floor. Tony got out with him. The elevator was making some strange grumbling sounds, and he didn’t want to get stuck between floors. Ten minutes later after he’d trudged up the remaining eight flights of stairs, Tony arrived at his office to find Erik glued to the television.

“Sorry I’m late.” Tony headed straight for the coffeepot. “Allison tricked me into sleeping an extra hour and the elevator started acting funny, so I climbed up from five. Did you find the papers I put on your desk? I got the first scene all blocked out.”

Erik nodded, but Tony noticed that he didn’t look happy.

“I saw it. We can talk about that later. Right now I want you to watch an interview I recorded.”

Tony hurried to the kitchenette and came back with a steaming cup of coffee. Erik handed him a Winchell’s sack, and Tony sat down on the couch and bit into a maple bar. It was slightly stale, but it tasted good anyway. He was starving. If he remembered correctly, his ham and Swiss was still sitting on the night table by his side of the bed. He had fallen asleep without eating it. He’d also fallen asleep before doing anything else. Tony’s face flushed slightly as he remembered. He’d have to make some time for Allison. He loved her and he wanted her, but there never seemed to be time for anything but work.

“You didn’t hear the news this morning?”

Erik was staring at him and Tony swallowed a mouthful of breakfast without chewing. “He struck again?”

“That’s right.” Erik nodded. “I’ve got the interview with Sam Ladera.”

“What are you waiting for? Play it!”

As Tony watched the publicity stills of the newest victim, he gasped out loud. It was Diana Ellington! When they’d met with Lon Michaels, he’d suggested casting her as one of the victims in Video Kill.

“Whoa!” Tony reached out and stopped the recording. “You didn’t mention our casting ideas to anyone, did you?”

“You mean about using Diana Ellington? No, I didn’t. And I called Lon this morning. He doesn’t remember telling anyone, either. How about you?”

“Not a word.” Tony shook his head. “This is freaky, Erik. I don’t like it.”

Tony sat silently as he watched the rest of the interview. If the Video Killer was running true to form, there would be another murder disc to watch. He had to see Sam right away. Tony was positive it would be another Hitchcock segment. But which one? Suddenly Tony had it. Diana Ellington looked a lot like Barbara Leigh-Hunt in Frenzy.

“Well?” Erik looked glum as he switched off the television. “Looks like we’ve got the third scene, but it makes me sick, Tony. Do you want to start blocking it out?”

“Not just yet.” Tony got up and headed for the door. “I think I’ll try talking to Sam Ladera again. Maybe he’ll give me some information this time.”

“Let’s talk about your blocking, first. Do you realize we haven’t worked together on this thing for the past week?”

“I know.” Tony sighed. “Just write up the first scene the way I’ve got it outlined, Erik. I’ll be back in time to talk about the next one with you.”

“No.” Erik was firm. “We’re supposed to be a partnership here. I’ve already written the first scene. It’s on your desk.”

“You have?” Tony was astonished. “But how could you write it without my blocking?”

“I blocked it myself when you didn’t come through. And I think I did a good job.”

“I’m sure you did.” Tony backpedaled a bit. He could tell Erik was upset. “I’ll tell you what, Erik . . . I’ll sit right down and read it now if you’ll run down and get me another maple bar. I’m starving this morning. And when you get back, we’ll hash it out together.”

The moment he heard the elevator doors close behind Erik, Tony picked up the phone. His first call was to Sam to arrange a meeting. The next was to his friend in Van Nuys to get him to hurry on that copy of his Hitchcock collection. Then he settled down to read Erik’s first scene. It was good. Probably the best thing Erik had ever written. Erik had done a super job of portraying a fictional killer, but it wasn’t the way the murder had actually happened. Now he had to figure out some tactful way to tell Erik that they couldn’t use any of it.





Kathleen Brannigan, she’d taken her maiden name back after the divorce, stood in front of the glass wall that separated the editor-in-chief from the rows of desks that belonged to ordinary reporters. She could see her reflection in the glass, and she knew she looked especially good this morning. She had dressed for this interview in a dark green suit, molded perfectly to her size-8 figure. The saleslady at Prada had convinced her to part with almost three weeks’ salary by telling her that this particular shade of green set off her eyes and highlighted her glistening auburn hair. There had been no way Katy could resist such persuasion when she knew that the saleslady had probably assisted such luminaries as Meryl Streep and Anne Hathaway in this very dressing room. It was a well-known fact that scores of famous women in Los Angeles passed through the distinctive glass doors on Rodeo Drive to shop for their extensive wardrobes. The clothes inside were expensive and chic.

Mr. Morgan looked up and smiled at Katy. It was well known that he appreciated a good-looking woman, but he didn’t give promotions on that basis. He still thought his female reporters should stick to society, food, and fashion. He was usually fair but not especially tactful. If Bill Morgan thought a reporter had turned in a sloppy piece, everyone in earshot knew it. That was the reason Julie Thompson, Katy’s closest friend on the paper, had nicknamed him “Billy Goat Gruff.”

This morning, when Katy had checked her mailbox and read the summons to appear in Bill Morgan’s office, she’d been terrified that she would be fired. Julie had calmed her fears. If Billy Goat intended to fire Katy, he’d do it at her desk, in front of all the other reporters. Katy had been at the paper long enough to know that.

Then Julie had advanced her theory, and it had been Katy’s turn to laugh. Julie had been sure that Billy Goat was going to put her on a new assignment, something to do with the Video Killer.

“Me?” Katy had been dumbfounded. “That’s impossible, Julie. I’ve been assigned to the health section for five years now. There’s no way he’ll assign me to anything more important than booster shots.”

“Oh no?” Julie had retorted. “His hotshots are coming up empty-handed on the Video Killer story. And it’s your ex who won’t talk to the press. I think Billy Goat figures you’ve still got some pull with Sam.”

“But I don’t!”

“He doesn’t know that. Right now Billy Goat’s in a panic. I’m so sure I’m right, I’ll wager lunch. If Billy Goat fires you, I’ll take you to lunch at Spago. And if he assigns you to the Video Killer story, you take me.”

Katy had agreed after a glance at her bank balance. Lunch was expensive at Spago. Now her heart was beating fast as she opened the door and stepped into the glass-walled cubicle. If Mr. Morgan asked her to work on the Video Killer story, she’d come right out and tell him that she and Sam weren’t even on speaking terms. She would not, under any circumstances, crawl to Sam for a story. And she wouldn’t try to trick him into giving her information, either. She had her integrity.

“Katy. It’s always a pleasure to see you.” Bill Morgan gestured toward the straight-backed chair in front of his desk. “Is everything all right in the health section?”

“Just fine, Mr. Morgan.” Katy sat down and tried to look more poised than she felt.

“Good. How far ahead are you?”

Katy thought fast. “Unless bubonic plague strikes the rich and famous, I’m approximately a month ahead.”

“Good. I’m pulling you for a month, Katy. I need you to work on a special project. Let me tell you up front that if you bring in something good, I’ll promote you to the city desk.”

Katy felt her knees start to shake. Could Julie’s far-fetched idea be right?

“I’m talking about the Video Killer story, Katy. Since you’ve met quite a few members of the police force socially, it might be easier for you to get them to open up a little. Of course, I wouldn’t want you to compromise any relationship you may still have with your ex-husband, but it seems to me you have an advantage over my regular crime boys.”

“Oh, Mr. Morgan, I . . . I . . .”

Mr. Morgan leaned forward and stared straight into her eyes, and suddenly all Katy’s resolve about honesty and integrity evaporated. The city desk. He wanted to move her to the city desk. She’d been trying to break into real news for years!

“I know it’s asking a lot, Katy, and I can understand why you wouldn’t want to use your former status for the purpose of getting the story. But some paper out there’s going to get the scoop. And I want that paper to be us.”

Katy nodded. She didn’t trust herself to speak. Mr. Morgan was offering her a shot at the big-time, and there was no way she could turn it down on simple scruples. She’d go down to the police station right after lunch. Everyone said that Sam was still in love with her, so it should be easy to win his confidence again.

“Well?”

Katy managed to keep calm. She was wise enough to know that Mr. Morgan was dangling a carrot in front of her nose. This was the time for negotiation, and Katy knew how to play that game.

“If I get the story, would my promotion to the city desk mean the usual salary hike?”

“Of course.”

“And I’m free to work on this assignment anyway I choose as long as I get the goods?”

“Absolutely.”

“Fine, Mr. Morgan.” Katy smiled genuinely for the first time since the interview had begun. “It’s a deal. I’ll turn in my extra columns and get started right away.”

Katy waited until she got inside the ladies room before she let out a whoop of excitement. She knew the only reason Mr. Morgan had given her this opportunity was because she was Sam’s ex, but lots of people moved up the ladder by using their connections.

She dumped her purse out on the counter, found her cell phone, and used it to call Spago. And she didn’t even wince when she had to use Sam’s name to secure those last-minute reservations. Then, when her hands had stopped shaking and she thought she looked solemn enough, she went up to the third floor and stopped at Julie’s desk.

“I’m through. Let’s go to lunch now.” Katy waited a beat for the tension to build in Julie’s face. Then she laughed and bent down to whisper in her ear. “It’s on me!”



Erik sat in the chair across from Tony’s desk and glared at him. “Are you saying I did a bad job?”

“No, of course not. It’s very well written, Erik, a lot better than I could have done. But it’s, well, it’s just not right!”

“What the hell does that mean?”

Tony lit a cigarette and took a deep puff to stall for time. He knew he was doing a bad job of explaining things to Erik, but it couldn’t be helped. Erik would just have to write the scene over the way it had really happened. It was critical to the Video Killer story.

“Look, Erik, your way just isn’t realistic enough.”

“My way isn’t realistic?” Erik’s mouth dropped open. “Jesus, Tony! I read your blocking, and your killer’s straight from central casting in that phony executioner’s hood. And to make it even more hokey, you have him doing Hitchcock’s shower scene. You think that’s realistic?”

“Calm down, Erik. I see your point.” Tony did his best to pacify Erik. “Look, your way would be perfect under any other circumstances, but I know he wore the hood. And I also know that the first murder was a Psycho remake.”

The moment the words were out of Tony’s mouth, the expression on Erik’s face changed. “Good God, Tony! Did you actually get a look at that murder video?”

Tony thought fast. He’d have to talk his way out of this one. “Don’t be an a*shole, Erik. Sam’s turned down everyone who asked for a private viewing, and that includes his boss, the chief of police. What makes you think he’d show it to me?”

“I notice you avoided my question, Tony.” Erik looked suspicious. “Give me a simple yes or no. Did you or did you not see that murder video?”

Tony sighed. Erik was pinning him down like a lawyer. “Okay, Erik, I’ll give you a solemn Italian oath. I swear on my mother’s grave that I didn’t see it.”

“Fine, Tony, except your mother doesn’t have a grave. She’s still alive.”

“Yeah, well . . .” Tony looked sheepish. “If my mother were dead, I’d still swear on her grave. Now, can we drop this idiotic cross-examination and get to work?”

“Not until you’ve answered my questions. If you didn’t see the murder video, where did you get all this inside stuff about the killer?”

This time Tony had his answer ready. “I’ll tell you, but you have to promise not to laugh.”

“All right. I promise.”

“I was sitting here last night staring at the computer screen. I knew I had to block out that scene and nothing was coming. You know the feeling?”

Erik nodded.

“So I decided to try to think like the Video Killer. I got out that picture of Sharee Lyons and asked myself what made her special. Why would I choose this particular girl? Then it came to me. She was an actress and she looked just like Janet Leigh. And the press reported she was killed in the shower. That’s when I came up with using Psycho.”

“You didn’t think the whole thing was far-fetched?”

“Sure I did. But then I pulled the other file, the one with the picture of Tammara Welles. Don’t you think she looks like Laura Elliott?”

“Who’s Laura Elliott?”

“The actress Hitchcock killed off in Strangers on a Train.”

Erik frowned. “I don’t think I saw it.”

“Well, I did. And take my word for it, the resemblance is there.”

“How about Diana Ellington?”

“The first murder in Frenzy. She’s a dead ringer for Barbara Leigh-Hunt, if you’ll pardon the pun.”

Erik winced. Tony’s sense of humor had been pretty insensitive lately. “So you want us to write a Video Killer whose motivation is remaking Hitchcock?”

“Why not? It’s a hell of a gimmick, even if I’m wrong. Now, can we please write the damn thing the way I’ve got it blocked out? As a personal favor to me?”

Erik looked surprised. Tony never asked for favors. “Well . . . okay. I’ll give in to your superior intuition this time. But get the blocking done ahead of time from now on. I worked for almost a week on that scene, and now we can’t use any of it.”

“I will. Why don’t you start on it and I’ll see what I can dig up on Diana Ellington’s murder. If I don’t get back before you leave, put what you’ve done on my desk.”

“You’re leaving now? You just got here, Tony!”

“I realize that, Erik, but there are a couple of things I’ve got to do. Allison’s mother is worse and I promised to stop by at the convalescent center.”

The irritated expression on Erik’s face was immediately replaced by one of concern.

“I’m sorry, Tony. Does it look bad?”

“It doesn’t look good. I’ll give you a call and fill you in. And Erik? I promise I’ll have the other two scenes blocked out by the time you need them.”

“Don’t worry about it, Tony. I’ll be fine if you can stay just one scene ahead of me. And tell Allison . . . oh, hell. What can you tell someone at a time like this?”

“Chin up, keep a stiff upper lip, and things will look better in the morning, I guess. None of them do any good.”

“Right.” Erik nodded. “Good luck, Tony. Remember that Allison’s mother has rallied lots of times before.”

As Tony got into the elevator, he realized that he should have been an actor. He’d convinced Erik with that story about Allison’s mother, but he didn’t feel good about it. That was twice he’d lied to his partner in less than five minutes. He really wanted to go back and level with Erik, but he couldn’t. There was his promise to Sam to keep, and he was already ten minutes late to see the third murder disc.





Allison smiled as she put down the phone. It was her first smile of the morning since she’d heard about the Video Killer’s third victim, Diana Ellington. Allison had met her in an acting workshop once. Thank goodness the call from Doris Stanley had been good news, not bad. Allison didn’t know how much more bad news she could take.

The head nurse had been cheerful. Allison’s mother was doing very well this morning. She’d even eaten a large breakfast. The chemotherapy seemed to be having a positive effect, and since Dr. Naiman would be running some tests today, could Allison skip her regular visit and come in early tomorrow instead?

Naturally, Allison had agreed. It was nice of Miss Stanley to call and tell her. But now the day stretched out with nothing to do except crochet or watch television. She supposed she could call one of her old friends and suggest lunch, but she didn’t really feel up to socializing. And Tony was busy. He’d told her he’d probably be home very late tonight. Allison glanced at the kitchen calendar, but there was nothing that she had to do today. Then she noticed the date and gasped. Today was their wedding anniversary.

Allison grabbed her purse and car keys and ran out the door. She had to shop for a present for Tony. Luckily, she’d seen the perfect gift in a boutique not far from the house. It was a beautiful gold cigarette lighter with a little notch on top. When the end of a cigarette was inserted in the notch, the lighter flamed automatically. Since Tony was always complaining about lighting a cigarette when he was using the computer and then getting his fingers back on the wrong keys, it would be perfect for him. Allison still remembered the time he’d typed a whole scene in Free Fire with his right hand off by one row and they’d spent hours deciphering words like bpdu cpimt and casia; tu and jamd gremade.

In less than an hour, Allison was back at the house. The boutique had engraved the lighter with the phrase Allison had chosen. YOU LIGHT UP MY LIFE. Tony would groan at her syrupy sentiment, but she knew he’d love it anyway. Now she’d call Erik at the office to see if Tony had mentioned anything about their anniversary.

The phone rang seven times before Erik answered. He sounded harassed.

“Hi, Erik. It’s Allison. I hope I didn’t catch you in the middle of something.”

“You did, but that’s okay. I was just looking for something on Tony’s desk and it took me a while to uncover the phone.”

Allison laughed as she imagined the mess that Tony’s desk must be in. Both Erik and Tony were lax when it came to filing. Before her mother had gotten so sick, she’d gone every Monday to help them. The papers were probably knee-high by now.

“Listen carefully, Erik. I’m about to make you an offer you can’t refuse.”

“Oh? What’s that?”

“I’ll drive in to do all the filing on Monday if you guys will buy me a hot dog. The only people I’ve talked to lately are nurses and doctors, and I’m sick of it all.”

“I can understand that.” Erik’s voice was warm and reassuring. “But there’s no need to bribe me with the filing, Allison. I’ll buy you lunch anytime.”

“Then Monday’s okay?”

“That’s fine with me, but Tony’s tied up on Monday. He’s having lunch with someone at the studio.”

“You’re free?”

“I’m free.”

“Good. I’ll come in anyway, we can go to lunch, and then we’ll meet Tony back at the office later. Is he there, Erik? I need to ask him a question.”

“He’s left already, Allison.” Erik sounded puzzled. “How’s your mother?”

“She’s doing much better. I talked to the head nurse this morning and she’s responding well to the chemotherapy. They’re running more tests today, but things look better than they have in a long time.”

“That’s wonderful, Allison. Tony was all upset about it this morning. So you’re going to see her this afternoon?

“No. They’ve asked for no visitors. I’ll have to wait until tomorrow.”

There was a long silence, and Allison could hear the tinny sound of another conversation bleeding into their line. It was so faint she couldn’t make out the words. Finally Erik spoke again.

“What’s going on, Allison? Tony told me your mother was worse and he had to go visit her.”

“But that’s not true, Erik! I talked to the head nurse not more than an hour ago. I don’t understand why Tony would tell you . . .” Allison stopped in midsentence and laughed. “Oh, now I get it.”

“Get what?”

“Today’s our wedding anniversary, Erik.”

“Your anniversary?” Erik felt his anxiety slide away. He’d blown the surprise Tony had planned for Allison last year by saying the wrong thing over the phone and now it seemed he’d done it again this year. “I’m sorry I said anything, Allison. Now I know why Tony gave me that story.”

Allison laughed. “He’s probably on his way home right now. I’d better hurry and make myself pretty. Where shall I meet you for lunch on Monday?”

“We could go somewhere nice.”

“I’d rather go somewhere not-so-nice. You’re always bragging about your little neighborhood finds. Take me to one that makes a great hamburger.”

Erik thought for a moment. “Donny’s has great hamburgers if you’re up for grease.”

Allison laughed. “Grease is one of my favorite foods. Does Donny’s have chili?”

“Four alarm, maybe five.”

“That settles it. Tell me where and when, and I’ll meet you.”

“Okay. One o’clock at Donny’s Bar and Grill at the corner of Fairfax and La Cienega. You can recognize it by all the graffiti on the wall. And, Allison? You’d better wait in the car for me. Donny’s isn’t exactly a restaurant. It’s more like, I’m not sure of the polite way to say it.”

“A meat rack?”

“What’s that?”

Allison giggled. “Sometimes I wonder about you, Erik. You’ve been out here for years, but you’re still a Minnesota farm boy at heart. A meat rack is another name for a pickup joint.”

“Nice phrase. I like it. Donny’s is definitely a meat rack. Most of the women in there look like streetwalkers, but I can’t tell for sure with the styles right now. For all I know they could be investment bankers. Uh, Allison? Now that I think about it, maybe Donny’s isn’t such a good idea after all. It’s not exactly your kind of place.”

“Don’t you back out now!” Allison scolded him. “Donny’s sounds exciting, and I promise not to go in until you get there. Just look around the parking lot for the lady with the rose in her teeth.”

“You wouldn’t!”

“You’ll just have to wait and see.”

A few more minutes of light banter and Allison hung up. It was almost twelve-thirty, and Tony could be home any minute. She was smiling as she raced to the closet to put on her very best outfit. She wanted to look nice for Tony’s surprise. Whatever it might be.