Video Kill (18 page)

“That's easy. I have a copy right here on my desk. Your ex requested one the day after Miss Welles was killed, and I haven't refiled it yet.”

Katy sighed as she made arrangements to pick it up. Sam was ahead of her by two full weeks. What other information did he have? She simply had to find out.

A moment later Katy was back on the couch, watching the murder scenes again. There was something very familiar about the scenes the Video Killer had shot. They were a lot like Hitchcock films. That was it!

Katy fast-forwarded through them again. Yes, the first one was
Psycho
, the second was a remake of
Strangers on a Train
, and the third, with the necktie strangling of Diana Ellington, had all the elements of
Frenzy
. Had Sam noticed the pattern? Katy doubted it. Sam's movie collection consisted entirely of detective films. Naturally he'd heard of
Psycho
, but she doubted that he'd seen any other of Hitchcock's films. She knew she had to see the fourth disc, the one Sam must have in his possession right now, to find out whether her theory was correct.

VIDEO KILLER REMAKES HITCHCOCK MURDERS.
Katy could see the headline now with her name below in twelve-point type. She'd be the first to break the story, scooping every veteran investigative reporter in the city. She'd be famous. Maybe she'd even win a Pulitzer. But first she had to find out if she was right.

There was only one way to get her hands on the fourth DVD, and Katy reached for the phone again. She took a deep, calming breath as she dialed Sam's private office number.

Sam answered on the second ring. He sounded tired and harassed, but the moment he realized who was calling, there was a special intimacy in his voice.

“I heard about the fourth murder, Sam. You must be exhausted. I just thought I'd offer to cook dinner for you tonight so you won't have to go out.”

“That sounds great, Katy. Your place or mine?

“Yours. That way you won't have to drive. Is six all right?”

“It's fine. Do you want to stop by my office to pick up the key?”

“Uh . . . no.” Katy could feel herself starting to blush even though she knew Sam couldn't see her. “I still have mine. Unless you've changed the locks.”

“I haven't. I'll see you at six, then. And Katy? Last night was wonderful.”

Katy smiled and hung up the phone. He hadn't changed the locks. She quickly stopped herself from looking for psychological motives and began to jot down a grocery list. She'd stick to Sam like glue this week. It shouldn't be hard. He'd certainly been glad to see her last night. Naturally, she'd copy the fourth murder DVD, and if she got very lucky, Sam would slip and tell her even more. As Katy gathered up her things and headed for the door, she was surprised to find that she was trembling a little in anticipation of the evening ahead.

16

Lon flicked on the lights and glanced at his audience of one. Alan Goldberg was smiling. “Well, Alan? What's the verdict?”

“That shower scene is great, Lon. Just what we need. And it's subtle, too. All implied violence and no gross-out.”

“The low light levels work?”

“Absolutely. Rocca and Nielsen'll be thrilled. Who did you use for the victim? She's good.”

Lon winced. “That was Diana. She dropped by the night I was making the test.”

“Diana Ellington? Jesus, Lon . . . that's one hell of a coincidence!”

“I know. We talked seriously about the possibility of casting her. Diana really wanted in on the project.”

“Lon, I don't know what to say except that you've got my sympathies. You must feel like hell every time you run that test.”

Lon nodded. “You could say that.”

“What a colossal waste!” Alan took out a handkerchief and mopped his forehead. “That's the big trouble in this business, Lon. Guesswork. It's all guesswork.”

“How's that?” Lon looked puzzled.

“Your test with Diana. If we'd only known, you could have shot the damn thing as a strangling instead of a stabbing.”

 

 

The screen on the television in Sam Ladera's office went black, and Tony stretched to ease his tension.

“
Rear Window
?” Sam asked the question.

“That's right.” Tony sighed. “Christie Jensen looks just like Irene Winston. Everything fits the pattern, Sam.”

Sam nodded. “I really hate to push you, Tony. But do you think you can come up with a partial list of Hitchcock victims for me? I've got to start warning those look-alike actresses.”

“Sure. I'll have something for you any day now.”

“I appreciate this, Tony. I know how busy you are, and watching all these films is above and beyond. I really owe you one.”

“No problem, Sam.” Tony smiled, but his heart wasn't in it. Sam wouldn't be quite so appreciative if he knew that Allison was the one who was watching the DVDs. Now he'd have to think up another lie to urge her to hurry with that damn list. Tony remembered the phrase his mother had been fond of quoting.
Oh, what a tangled web we weave when first we practice to deceive
. It was true. With all these deceptions and half truths floating around, his life was getting very complicated. He just hoped he could keep them all straight until the Video Killer was caught.

 

 

Allison spooned up the last of her chili and smiled at Erik. Donny's was even better than she'd expected, but she could understand why Erik had thought it was a hangout for hookers. The blonde at the next table was wearing a red satin minidress that was so short she couldn't even sit on it, and her redheaded companion wore a silver peekaboo top that left absolutely nothing to the imagination.

“Well? What do you think of my discovery?” Erik finished his chili and wiped his mouth with his napkin.

“It's the best chili I've ever had, Erik, but I don't even want to think about what's in it. I'm surprised the bowls don't melt.”

“True.” Erik nodded. “Just look what it's done to the tabletops. They used to be white.”

“You're joking!” Allison glanced down at the orange tabletop and then back up at Erik. “Aren't you?”

“You'll never know. How about dessert? They make a great lemon meringue pie, but I'd recommend their house sundae. The ice cream puts out the fire from the chili.”

“Just coffee, Erik. I couldn't eat another bite.”

Erik waved the owner over, a round-bellied man whose apron had seen better days, and ordered coffee. A moment later he was back, carrying two chipped white mugs filled to the brim and a sticky-looking sugar bowl.

As soon as the owner had left, Erik turned to Allison. “I forgot to ask you what happened on your anniversary.”

“It was nice.” Allison smiled. “Tony got home about three that afternoon, and he gave me a complete collections of Hitchcock movies and an assortment of gourmet popcorn.”

“Did you go out to dinner?”

“No. Tony only had an hour. Then he went back to the office to work.”

Erik stared at her for a long moment, and then he shook his head. “He didn't come back to the office, Allison. I worked late that night, until almost eleven-thirty. I remember making a crack to the night guard at the complex about coming in just seconds before I turned into a pumpkin.”

“If Tony wasn't home or at the office, where did he go?”

“I don't know, Allison.” Erik turned to her seriously. “Have you noticed anything different about Tony lately?”

“Like what?”

“Oh, a change in personality. He still jokes around at the office, but I think something's worrying him. I just wondered if you knew what it was.”

Allison shook her head. “I don't know, Erik. Tony doesn't talk to me anymore. I . . . I barely see him, and when he comes home he's too exhausted to do anything but fall into bed. I can tell he's under a lot of stress, but every time I bring it up, he says there's nothing wrong. He's got so much on his mind that sometimes he's positively insensitive.”

“I noticed that, too. Think carefully, Allison . . . do you remember what Tony said when he told you about the first murder?”

“Of course. He called me at home and said, ‘Great news, honey! I think we just sold
Video Kill
.'”

“And what was your reaction?”

“I asked him for details, and he told me about the murder. He was very excited, but I felt a little sick about the whole thing.”

“Tony acted the same way with me. He was almost euphoric. He kept telling me how lucky we were. He really didn't seem to care that a woman had been brutally murdered.”

“But Tony's not like that, Erik! He cares about other people. At least, I think he does.”

“That used to be true, Allison, but Tony's changed. You know how we work. Tony blocks out the scenes, and I write the dialogue. That means Tony's got to finish the blocking before I can do my part.”

Allison nodded. She knew how the two men worked together.

“Well, I waited a full week for Tony's blocking, but when he kept putting me off, I finally went ahead and did the first scene without him.”

“Tony didn't do any work at all?”

“Not then. After I was finished, I asked Tony to read it. He said it was well written but we couldn't use it because it wasn't the way the murder had actually happened. My whole point is, how did he know?”

Allison shrugged. “He probably got some inside information. Tony knows a lot of people.”

“I asked him about that, and he swore he hadn't been able to find out a thing. Now, how could he be so positive about the full details of all those murders? Unless he was there when the murders were committed!”

“Erik! Are you saying that you think Tony is . . .” Allison stopped, unsure whether to laugh or get angry. “I can't believe you said that. It's ridiculous. Tony doesn't have any reason to . . .”

“How about money?” Erik interrupted her. “Think about it, Allison. What if Tony figured the only way to sell our
Video Killer
story was to make it into a reality?”

“That's absurd!” Allison began to get angry. “I don't know what's got into you, Erik. You know Tony would
never
do something like that! And if you even consider the possibility, then you're certainly no friend of Tony's and no friend of mine!”

Allison grabbed her purse and tried to stand up, but Erik grabbed her arm.

“Allison, wait. Maybe I'm way off base here. I hope to God I am. But something's wrong. You can't deny that. The only way to help Tony out of whatever trouble he's in is to figure out what it is.”

Allison wavered a moment, but then she sat back down. It was true there was a problem, and denying it wouldn't make it go away. But Tony certainly wasn't the Video Killer!

“Look, Allison, forget all that Video Killer stuff for a minute and let's discuss this rationally. I've taken some calls from creditors at the office. I know Tony's hurting for money. Exactly how bad is his financial situation?”

“I don't know.” Allison's voice broke, and she took another swallow of coffee. “Tony handles the money. I've asked him, but he says that everything's fine. And every time I bring it up, he gets mad.”

“Check on it, Allison. You've got a joint account, don't you? Go to the bank and ask for a copy of your last statement. And if you find out that Tony's in financial trouble, maybe we can get a loan or something to help him out.”

Allison thought about Erik's suggestion for a moment. “All right.”

“And I think you should keep a log of the times Tony comes in. He's got to be going somewhere when he's not at home and not at the office. We have to find out where.”

Allison shook her head. “I won't do that, Erik. I want to know where he goes more than you do, but I will not spy on him.”

Erik looked down at the table for a moment and then he sighed. “Okay. Maybe that's carrying things a little too far. It's just that I'm worried about Tony, and I really want to help him.”

“Me too.” Allison opened her purse and took out a package of cigarettes. “Would you get me some matches, Erik? I forgot my lighter.”

As Erik got up to go to the counter, he noticed that the redhead at the next table was lighting a cigarette. He asked if he could borrow her lighter for a second, and handed it to Allison.

“Thanks, Erik. This is just like the lighter I got Tony for our anniversary. See? You just hold the cigarette in here and it lights automatically.”

Allison lit her cigarette and was about to hand back the lighter when she caught sight of the inscription.
Y
OU
L
IGHT
U
P
M
Y
L
IFE
. This was Tony's lighter! She leaned close to Erik and spoke softly.

“Ask her where she got it, Erik. It's important!”

Allison watched as Erik engaged the redhead in conversation. Her knees felt weak, and she knew all the color had left her face. There couldn't be two lighters exactly alike with the same inscription. It was just too much of a coincidence. A moment later Erik was back.

“She said it was a present from a guy she knows. He gave it to her last week.”

Allison stubbed her cigarette out in the ashtray with trembling fingers. How could Tony do such a thing? He'd given her anniversary present to another woman. You bet she'd keep that record of his comings and goings. And she'd use it when she filed for divorce!

“What is it, Allison?”

Allison glanced over at the redhead and shuddered visibly. She couldn't bear to stay here any longer, in the same room as Tony's mistress.

“Let's go, Erik. Tony's not the Video Killer. He's much worse than that!” Allison stood up and gave the redhead her iciest stare. “I've just discovered the source of Tony's problem. And if I stay here a second longer I'm going to tear her eyes out!”