“Yes, thank you.”
Pam got the signal through her earpiece, and she looked into one of the three cameras. “Hello, I’m Pamela Hale. My guest is Mrs. Charles Grosvenor — Barbara — who is one of San Francisco’s leading socialites and a large contributor to many local arts programs.” She turned to Barbara, and the director cut to a two-shot. “Barbara, you’re talking with us today because, as you have put it, you have been subjected to a campaign of terror by your former husband, well-known attorney Ed Eagle, of Santa Fe.”
“I’m afraid that’s true, Pam. I wish it weren’t, but that has been my lot for years now. Mr. Eagle has made repeated attempts on my life, then blamed me for them, and the police have been able to do nothing.”
Pam took Barbara patiently through her allegations, drawing out all the pain and suffering she said she had been through, and doing more listening than talking. Barbara relaxed and let the venom pour from her lips in honeyed tones laced with sadness and regret.
Then, halfway through their half hour, Pam tacked onto a new course. “Barbara,” she said, smiling, “I’ve been carefully through the public record of your life, and have interviewed others who’ve known you along the way, and there are some things in your background we need to address. Let’s see, you were born the daughter of a pawnbroker in the Midwest, then moved to New York in your late teens. There you married a much older man, a diamond merchant.” She looked inquiringly at Barbara for confirmation.
“Yes,” Barbara said tentatively.
“Then, shortly after your marriage, you became involved with another man, a convicted felon with a history of violent crime, and with your help, he conducted a robbery of your husband’s diamond business, during which he shot and killed your husband.”
Barbara was looking nervously around for Hugh Gordon. “Well, that’s a long story,” she said.
“As a result, your lover was caught, tried, convicted, and given a life sentence, and you were convicted of accessory to murder and sentenced to seven to ten years, is that correct?”
In the green room, Hugh Gordon, who had been half dozing, sat bolt upright in his chair. “What?” he yelled. But there was no one to hear him. He ran to the door, but it was locked, and hammering on it and shouting brought no response.
“It was there, was it not, that you first met Ed Eagle, who came to interview you for information on another case. He took a liking to you and offered his help when you were released?”
“Yes, that was good of him,” Barbara said.
“Then you obtained an early release from prison as a result of a court order aimed at ending prison overcrowding, and very shortly, you turned up in Santa Fe and renewed your acquaintance with Ed Eagle?”
“Yes,” Barbara said.
“He gave you a job, and the two of you began to go out. Then, a few months later, you were married.”
“The worst mistake of my life,” Barbara said.
“Then, after a year or so of marriage, having gained your husband’s trust, you emptied his bank and brokerage accounts and disappeared into Mexico.” It wasn’t a question.
“Well, you see, Ed had become very violent.”
“Did you ever call the police?”
“No, I...”
“Did anyone else ever witness this violence?”
“I’m not sure.”
“Did you have any visible injuries?”
“No, I...”
“Then, in Mexico, after being reunited with one of your sisters, who also had a criminal record, the two of you became involved with a young Mexican man in a sexual threesome, then you tortured the young man, mutilated him by cutting off his penis with a straight razor, and murdered him.”
“That’s an outrageous accusation!” Barbara nearly screamed.
“Perhaps so, but true,” Pam said. “You were tried, convicted of murder, and sentenced to life in a Mexican prison, were you not?”
“It was a terrible miscarriage of justice.”
“In prison, you formed a sexual liaison with the warden, did you not? Then you drugged him and escaped from a bathroom window in his apartment, and were met by an old friend from Los Angeles and spirited out of the country in a small airplane.”
“It was the only way I could get away from being raped daily,” Barbara said, rallying.
“After that you changed your identity and went to Los Angeles, where, one night, you entered a suite at the Bel-Air Hotel, where you believed Ed Eagle to be staying, and shot the occupant to death while he slept. You were arrested, then tried, and while you were waiting for the jury’s verdict, you escaped from the courthouse and hid at a resort near Palm Springs, where you met your next husband, Mr. Grosvenor.”
“I was acquitted!” Barbara shouted.
“Right, but you still had to plead to a charge of escaping from custody. After that, there was a series of attempts on the life of Ed Eagle, culminating in a knife attack by a killer you hired, which left Mr. Eagle in critical condition in a Santa Fe hospital.”
“I had nothing to do with that!”
“Are you saying that Ed Eagle staged a nearly fatal knife attack on himself?”
“Of course he did. I’m not taking any more of this!” Barbara got to her feet and began ripping the wires from her body.
“Well, there’s a great deal more here,” Pam said, holding up her clipboard. “I guess I’ll just have to continue without you.”
The camera followed Barbara as she searched for a way out of the room, then Hugh Gordon appeared, breathless and red-faced. “This way!” he shouted, and the two of them made their escape from the studio.
Pam turned back to the camera. “In the absence of Mrs. Barbara Grosvenor, let’s go through the rest of her history, which culminates with the explosion of Ed Eagle’s jet airplane at Santa Monica Airport a few days ago.”
Occasionally consulting her notes, Pam went on.
48
Everyone gathered in the early evening for a drink in Stone’s living room. Hal Henry, an old Hollywood hand in his sixties, regaled them with stories of the town’s golden years and held them rapt. Then Dino and Viv arrived with their guests, who turned out to be the police commissioner of New York and his wife, Dorothy. Stone knew them well, and was happy to see them. They were almost ready to go in for dinner, when Fred came into the room. “Telephone call for Ms. Keaton,” he said.
“You can take it in the study,” Stone said. She knew the way. Everyone chatted for a bit, then Ann returned. “Ed,” she said, “you’ve gotten very lucky with 60 Minutes: a segment they had planned to show this Sunday had to be held up while they sort out some legal problems and they were going to air a rerun, but the Pamela Hale interview from San Francisco came in and blew them away.”
“That’s wonderful news,” Hal said. “You don’t get on that show on short notice unless you have something special.”
“They’re doing a rough cut of the footage as we speak, and they want to come here tomorrow morning, show you the rough cut, then interview you on camera.”
“Fine with me,” Ed said.
“They’re going to make two segments of the two interviews,” Ann said. “The first segment will be softball questions from Pamela, allowing Barbara to get everything out of her system. That will be the interview her publicist wanted for her. The second segment will be taken from the last half of the interview, followed by the interview with you, Ed.”
Hal Henry was nearly beside himself. “This is going to drive Hugh Gordon crazy. We’ve been rivals for years, and now all I have to do is find a way to take credit for the whole thing.”