“Would you have time today to talk in person?”
“I don’t know what I could tell you.”
“Your impressions of Zelda — that question you asked about suicide, for example.”
“All I meant was, it was pretty obvious Zelda had issues. I really don’t see that I can help, but sure, the idea of Ovie out there upsets me. He was a good kid, now that I have one of my own I appreciate how smart he was. His attention span, those fantastic things he built. I’ve got a meeting in a few minutes, should last until noon. And then two more from three p.m. on — I guess I could squeeze lunch in, say one-thirty? If we stay close to the office.”
“You name it.”
“There’s a place on Washington near Motor, Brasserie Mosca.”
“See you at one-thirty.”
“It’s the least I can do,” said Karen Jackson. “God, I hope he’s okay.”
The years that had been so cruel to Zelda Chase had smiled kindly on Karen Gallardo Jackson.
The pallid, anxious minion I’d encountered in the rented house above the Chateau Marmont strode into the restaurant with the bounce of a woman who’d earned her self-confidence.
Thinner but far from thin, she wore a tailored brown suede jacket, a peacock-blue silk shirt, and tweed slacks that made the most of her figure. Burnt-orange lizard-skin boots gave her some height. A brown handbag swayed rhythmically as she walked.
Hair once abused to bristly flat black had grown out to a soft, rusty brown, styled in a layered, jaw-length cut that managed to project competence and softness. Her ring finger bore a platinum band set with a sizable ruby. Matching studs twinkled in each ear. No evidence, not even a pinhole, of the steel array that had once crowded the lobes.
We shook hands and she sat down and ordered a chopped salad and iced tea. I asked for the Italian steak sandwich, medium rare, and water.
She said, “You haven’t changed much.”
I risked saying, “You have.” Her smile said Good Bet.
“That was the plan, Dr. Delaware. I sure needed help.”
“What do you do for Hyson and Strickland?”
Out of the bag came a brown leather card case. She slid the top card to me.
Vice President for Management.
“Basically, I gatekeep. Joel and Greer are constantly being hit on. Unsolicited scripts, requests for meetings, investment schemes. You develop a sense of who to let through, try not to offend those you block.”
“How’d you go from P.A.’ing to that?”
“I sensed the show would be canceled and literally begged for them to keep me on. I told them I’d do anything and they took me up on it. Had me cleaning the offices at night. That freed up my days so I went back and finished my B.A., then I added postbac courses in management. I guess that impressed them because they started giving me more responsibility.”
She smiled. “Greer also gave me some grooming tips. One thing led to another, and here I am.”
“How’d you know the show would be canceled? What I read said it was a surprise.”
“Where’d you read it? On some website? All that’s nonsense, Doctor. Everyone knew. It was clear our numbers weren’t good enough and the network was bored with us.”
The food came. She picked. “I’m still unclear about how Zelda died.”
“So am I. She was found on a stranger’s property with no obvious external wounds.”
“A stranger? That sounds like her arrest — breaking into her boyfriend’s.”
“Apparently it became a pattern, Karen. She was arrested for trespassing a few days before she died.”
“Out on the street,” she said. “I guess anything can happen out there. How long’s she been that way?”
“I was hoping you could tell me. Starting with what happened to her after the cancellation.”
“Sorry, I can’t.”
“What about the problems you mentioned? What you thought could lead to suicide.”
“Nothing specific regarding suicide,” said Karen Jackson. “I just remember being told she was odd. By everyone on the set. When she came home to live with Ovie again, she didn’t say a word to me. No thanks, no questions about how he was doing. She just unpacked her bags as if she clearly expected me to leave. So I did.”
“We haven’t been able to locate any family members. Are you aware of any?”
“Sorry, no. Have you spoken to anyone from the show?”
“Steve Beal. He recalls her having strong mood swings.”
“Steve,” she said. “How’s he doing?”
“Selling real estate.”
“Yes, that would fit — he considered himself quite the salesman, especially when it came to selling himself. After Sub died, he kept hectoring Joel and Greer about casting him in another series.”
She shook her head. “Worst approach, the hungrier you are, the faster people run from you. I’m glad Steve found another outlet.”
“When you were watching Ovid, did he mention family?”
“Never. Let me ask you something: Zelda’s mental illness, is there a serious chance she could’ve hurt him?”
“There’s no evidence of that.”
“But it’s possible.”
“Anything’s possible, Karen.”
“Well, I’m going to help you. First thing when I get back, I’ll talk to Joel and Greer.”
“Appreciate it. What about the other actors? Did any of them have a relationship with Zelda?”
“You mean romantic?”
“Romantic, platonic. I’m looking for anyone she’d confide in.”
“There was no one I saw. She was a loner and the show was run pretty business-like, not much socializing. Dr. Delaware, is there a chance Ovie got sick, too? Mentally, I mean. Genetics being what it is?”
“Again, anything’s possible,” I said. “But like you said, he was a pretty together five-year-old.”
Giving her a pat answer. But genetics could be a factor. And while some schizophrenics showed early signs of being odd, others didn’t.
Reassurance was what Karen Jackson had been after. “I bet he’s doing great. Wherever he is.”
“Karen, I can use your help finding the rest of the cast.” I told her about my calls to London and North Carolina, asked if talking to Justin Levine would be useful.
She said, “Justin was a kid himself. Mostly he tried to skateboard everywhere. He made it to Brown? Never knew he had the smarts. Robert was a nice guy, soft-spoken, he and Diana stuck together — they were an item off camera, too. Shay was well behaved, just like her character, and I never saw her hang with Zelda, but you could try. If she knew something, I’m sure she’d tell you.”
“What about other people on the set? Writers, camera staff?”
“That would be a huge list, Doctor, you have no idea how many people it takes to churn—” World-weary smile. “To create. But, again, I’d doubt any of them would know much. On some shows there’s a lot of interaction between the writers and the actors, constant rewriting. SNL’s like that. Joel and Greer don’t work that way. You get the script with ample time to get familiar with it, study your lines, and deliver them.”
I said, “Keeping the herd under control.”
“Pardon?”
“Alfred Hitchcock’s approach. He said, ‘Actors should be treated like cattle.’ ”
“Did he?” said Karen Jackson. “Well, he created some pretty great stuff.”
I quizzed her a bit more, paid for lunch despite what sounded like sincere objections, and walked her to her Lexus SUV.
She said, “First thing when they’re available, I’ll talk to the bosses.”
I believed her. Nice to have something to believe in.
Chapter 18
As I walked in my front door, my mobile chirped. True to her word, Karen Jackson.