“You’re quiet… does that mean you’ll do it? I’ll tell you who told me you were there!”
“Okay. I’ll do it. Now who told you?”
“It was just Matt and Clark, two of our producers. I sent them out for Starbucks and they saw a lot of cop cars at one of the high-rises. They walked over and saw you coming out with a cop and getting into a car. They asked around and the doorman told them about Fallon. Which is why we need you!”
“I’m not saying a word about what I saw.”
“We just want you to talk about murder cases and the string of D-Listers that bit the bullet lately.”
“That’s not funny.”
“What’s not funny?”
“Your pun. ‘Bit the bullet.’ They were all shot in the head.”
“Fallon was shot in the head too? Man! I didn’t know that!”
Hailey wanted to kick herself. She’d unwittingly let a fact slip out. She’d have to be more careful on the show.
“I really don’t know that, I was at a distance, I couldn’t really tell.” Hailey tried to cover.
“Whatever. Head, chest, back… I don’t care. Fallon Malone was murdered and so were Prentiss Love and Leather Stockton. Think the same person killed them all?”
“Come on. How would I know?”
“Now that you’re doing the show, I feel so much better. I had Italian last night, and there was some dried red sauce on my fork. Before I started eating. They gave me a fork with somebody else’s food on it. I almost had somebody else’s food on my lip. I swear I’ve felt like vomiting ever since.”
Hailey decided to ignore another of Russo’s stories about his nausea. “Please, don’t drag out that horrible gold lamé blouse again. I’m not wearing it, plus it smells.”
“How about red velvet? I have that, too. It’s got a sequined lapel. You’ll love it. It’ll look great on air.”
“Okay, I said I’d do the taping, but you have to stop with the red velvet and sequins.”
“Promise. No red velvet.”
“Or sequins.” She had to be specific with Tony Russo.
“Or sequins.” He tried to sound glum. “You’re too prim… Will you at least unbutton the top button of your shirt?”
“Bye, Tony.” She clicked off and went to change clothes. Hailey was smiling on the way to her bedroom closet. Tony was growing on her. Maybe she even liked him.
Staring at the rack of clothes hanging there neatly, she wondered briefly why she bothered to look. Of course, she’d wear solid black, like she always did. Anything else would be inappropriate, given the topic.
There was no way it wasn’t the same killer. That much she knew.
But who could possibly hate all three women enough to tear their brains out of their faces with a single shot?
Chapter 30
IN LESS THAN TWO HOURS, HAILEY WAS BACK IN A DARKENED STUDIO, clutching a stack of research on serial murders and news accounts of the three murders she’d read and printed off her home computer. She sat completely still, staring into a blank camera. Suddenly, she heard a male voice in her ear.
“Hailey, can you hear me all right? Got everything you need?”
It was Tony Russo in her ear from the control room. “I’m fine, but I could use a cup of hot tea, skim.”
“On the way! And remember, Harry just loves it when you fight with him! It’s great TV! The numbers will shoot through the roof!”
Hailey knew for a fact that Tony was outright lying and trying to “produce” her again. It was very clear Harry Todd hated it when she corrected him or argued with him. He always looked just like a deer caught in headlights, and until somebody coached him in his ear, he couldn’t think of a thing to say back to defend himself.
The show’s theme music started playing in her ear and the screen before her lit up with “program,” what the viewer would see. Various video clips of Harry Todd flashed across the screen… Todd interviewing a former president, Todd cooking with a tall, brunette domestic guru, both wearing matching aprons and laughing… Harry Todd walking along the streets of New York City being mobbed by adoring fans who just wanted to touch him.
If they only knew… Hailey thought it but would never say it out loud. She waited for the intros and for Harry Todd to begrudgingly throw her a question when it came her turn to take the side of the police. She knew he’d make it as much of a hardball as he could muster.
She wasn’t worried. After practicing law for years and handling more homicide cases than she could remember, she’d basically prepared for this her entire life. Harry Todd, on the other hand, was just reading cue cards.
After tossing an opening question to a tall, blonde female reporter dressed in a gorgeous red cashmere coat and matching scarf, standing on the street outside Fallon’s apartment, Todd, of course, went to the defense attorney to the stars, Derek Jacobs. Jacobs was seated in the studio a few inches from Todd himself. The two looked extremely casual and friendly, like they’d just had a long meal and now were kicking back for drinks and cigars.
Fallon Malone’s death was simply sport to them. Something to talk about. The fact that she’d been brutally murdered, just like the others, meant nothing to these two.
Hailey grimaced. At that precise moment, the camera showed her face, as if the control room had been waiting for a twitch or a sneeze. She quickly erased her expression. She took a look at the panel… the beautiful blonde reporter; the left-wing nut, Yale Professor Robert Seefeld; a crime-scene-specialist-turned-TV-talking-head; slimy looking Derek Jacobs; and the ringmaster, Harry Todd. They all smiled widely, displaying shockingly white smiles. They had to be caps or veneers. No teeth were naturally that white.
Hailey just couldn’t bring herself to turn on the big smile she knew was expected of her. What was there to smile about? The awful fact of the murders, grim news that should depress anyone, was just another hot topic for Todd and his crony, Jacobs. The panel moved on swiftly to Fallon Malone’s failing movie career, inanely discussing her last movie and her “sex goddess” image. Hailey remained silent, but knowing Todd’s show as she now did, Hailey deduced this was just a ploy by which they could justify showing a clip of Fallon washing the Vette.
It was no way to treat a murder victim. No matter how the public viewed Fallon Malone, she’d been viciously gunned down through no fault of her own.
Hailey broke in, speaking for the first time. She’d been warned Todd hated to be interrupted. It broke his train of thought, such as it was, and it was hard for him to counter original thoughts not written on his yellow cue cards and printed questions.
“You are all making a mockery of Fallon Malone’s murder, and it’s wrong. She is a crime victim. Would you want people to laugh in the same breath they talk about your murder? I wouldn’t.”
Her spontaneous tirade stopped Todd cold. He looked around to see if one of his pals was going to defend him. They didn’t.
Todd turned his attention to Hailey. “With us is Hailey Dean, former prosecutor, who has been at the Malone crime scene. Is it true she was shot in the head?”
“I will not comment on anything I observed at the scene.” Hailey was stone-faced. “But I will confirm your reporter’s story that Malone was murdered in her apartment.”
“Assuming they catch the guy, I guess you’re ready to string him up as usual, right, Ms. Dean?” His tone was sarcastic, as if there were something wrong with jury trials followed by sentencing for cold-blooded murders.
“I’d have to hear the facts at trial, Harry. But if your reporter is accurate that Ms. Malone was unarmed and shot from behind with no chance to defend herself, and if there is no affirmative defense such as self-defense, accident, or insanity, I think a jury’s consideration of the death penalty would be appropriate. Of course, any lawyer worth his salt would already know that the state of New York outlawed the death penalty.”