“Ellie? I don’t see why. But so what if she did?”
“Lamb told us she was there that night for dinner, but her date didn’t show up.”
“Right, so?”
“I know guys stand gals up, but on New Year’s Eve? Where’s he going to get another date? And she didn’t seem all that upset, either. That always seemed off to me.”
“Yeah, you’re right.” She lightly punched him in the arm. “I would have been steamed if you’d stiffed me, Archer.”
“But there would be no reason for her to be upset if there was never any guy.”
“But then why would Ellie have been there?”
“To meet me.”
Callahan laughed. “Okay, I know Sherry said you were handsome and all, but don’t let your ego—” She stopped and looked at him, understanding alighting on her features. “You don’t mean that. You mean it was because you’re a detective?”
Archer nodded. “She was probably waiting for you or me to mention my profession and if neither one of us did, she’d figure a way to work it in somehow. And then she lays her whole story out for me. Says she wants to hire me. And I go out there and trip over a dead body.”
“But she couldn’t possibly have known you’d go out there that night.”
“She didn’t have to. It was enough that she told me she feared for her life. That would explain why she disappeared. And I’d run around making inquiries after she didn’t show for our meeting, to give her vanishing legitimacy.” He looked at her. “I would be the reason people would think she was missing because someone had done something to her. Otherwise they’d think she’d just run off on her own. And people would look for a reason why she would do that. And that would not be good for her.”
“But she had no idea then that a dead body would show up in her house.”
“Bender had been dead since around two that afternoon.”
“Wait a minute. Are you saying she came to Chasen’s to meet you knowing that there was a dead body in her house?”
“That’s exactly what I’m saying.”
“Do you think she killed him?”
“I don’t know. I do know if she did she couldn’t have moved him from where he was killed to where he was found, not by herself.”
“But why put somebody you killed in your own house? Why not dump him in the ocean?”
“It might not have gone down that way. I have another theory, but that’s all it is.”
“So was someone trying to kill Ellie or was that all just a lie, too?”
“I haven’t figured that part out.”
“What the hell is going on, Archer?”
“I don’t know all the pieces, just some. But the more pieces I find, the more the picture comes alive. And by the way, Lamb is married.”
Callahan’s jaw slumped. “What?”
He explained about Lamb and Peter Bonham. And also that Lamb had blackmailed Gloria Mars. And that the woman had also worked with Alice Jacoby in infiltrating the Jade for research on a script that they wanted Samantha Lourdes to star in and Ransome to direct.
“They knew about the dope and maybe the other stuff and they never told the cops. And I can bet you that Lamb would have blackmailed Lourdes into starring in it. She’d threaten to expose her dirty little secret at the Jade if she didn’t go along.”
Callahan looked gobsmacked. “You think you know somebody. What a thorough bitch.”
“Nobody in this town really knows anybody else. I know that and I don’t even live here. I just trespass from time to time.”
“I guess you’re right,” she said glumly. “Do you think they’ll ever get the movie made?”
He looked upset by the query. “Who cares? I only care about the real part of this whole thing, Liberty. I’m not into fantasies.”
“I can see that now, Archer. I really can.” She said this in a voice so despondent and her expression was so forlorn that he took her hand and held it. And they listened to the wind and the fountain until it grew quite dark and Archer had to take his leave.
It was time to go back to Malibu.
Chapter 68
Archer sat in the Oldsmobile and stared at the Bonhams’ place. It was midnight and there was a light on. Danforth’s house was dark, the same for Lamb’s. But the light on at the Bonhams’ was like a heat lamp for Archer. It might lead him where he needed to go. The wind picked up, and a quilt of clouds covered up the dull glow of moonlight.
Earlier he had retrieved the developed photos he’d taken at the Bonhams’ house. The glossies were clear and looked good and were probably enough evidence to send the man away for life. He put them back in their folder and kept surveying the house.
Archer stiffened as he saw movement in the breezeway. Then a light came on in the garage. Next, he saw the garage door being lifted up. There was Bernadette Bonham doing the honors. Outlined in the glow, she looked like she was on a movie set getting ready for her big number under a hot spotlight. Then a car started up. She moved out of the way as the Bentley backed out. She turned off the light and closed the garage door. She got into the car and it pulled off down the road. As it passed by Archer, he couldn’t see who was driving, but he had a pretty good idea.
He waited until the car was out of sight, then he headed across the street and into the backyard. He reached the entrance to the bomb shelter and pulled out two items from his trench coat. Bolt cutters and a flashlight. He snipped the padlock with the cutters, tossed it away, and lifted the hatch. He grabbed his flashlight, looked around, and started his descent.
The steps were metal, and the entrance hatch was the most elevated part of the shelter. When he reached the bottom step he figured the shelter was about six feet underground with the dirt and grass covering it.
He didn’t think that would save you from an H-bomb blast, but he wasn’t a scientist, just a shamus. He shone his light around just about the time the stench hit him. It was so overpowering he almost gagged. He covered his nose and mouth with the fabric of his coat and stood there looking where the light was shining. Cheap sleeping bags were on the floor that was covered with trash and filthy clothes. There was a bucket used as a toilet. Half-eaten food and empty cigarette packs were lying around everywhere. There was a glass jug of dirty water. Benches were built into the walls and there were grimy blankets and sheets piled there.
He figured it would get pretty damn cold down here. There must be air vents and filtration somewhere so people wouldn’t suffocate, but he knew it wouldn’t be easy to breathe the foul atmosphere down here even with those devices.
He walked around and shone his light on the metal walls. He stopped when he saw the words that people had etched into the painted metal, maybe with fingernails, maybe with something else.
Ayúdame. Peligro. Muerte.
Archer knew enough Spanish to translate those words into “Help Me. Danger. Death.”
And then there were other things marked into the walls, but they were from another alphabet. Maybe Chinese or Japanese, he thought. Despite the language difference, he believed these messages said pretty much the same thing.
Help me. But no one had. And the Bonhams had a nice big house and drove a Bentley.
Sometimes Archer just wanted to shoot life right in the face.
He had been standing right above here with the gardener. Why hadn’t he heard anyone? Why hadn’t they cried out? Or pounded on the door above?
Then he saw the pile of chains under one bench and the large bolts inserted into the walls where those chains would go through. And he discovered a large bottle marked chloroform, along with a canvas bag filled with cloths formed into gags for the mouth.