“—She’d have been at home where Doc could easily get to her. In Las Vegas, he couldn’t, not in a hotel with the twenty-four-hour casino traffic.”
Daniel nodded. “So he killed Molly Harbinger instead. You know he drove there, Cam, and we’ll prove it.”
“If Missy and I hadn’t met up in the grocery store, would he have tried for her again, rather than Gloria Swanson?”
“He’s a psychopath, you know he would have. Hang on, we’re nearly there.” Daniel turned right, bulleted down a deserted block, swung a fast left, slowed to a crawl down the alley behind Deborah’s house. Mrs. Markham’s SUV, HOLLY 7, was parked in the alley close to the back stoop. It was quiet, after one o’clock in the morning.
The small house was as dark as its neighbors’. The crime scene tape was pulled from the back door. Cam touched Daniel’s arm as he cut the car’s lights and they slowed to a stop. “There, in Deborah’s bedroom, I saw a light. Now it’s gone.”
Though she knew what he’d say, she whispered, “Backup?”
Daniel shook his head. “If he’s got Markham, we can’t wait. Whatever goes down, I want us to be the one in control, not Elman, not anyone else. Just us, you and me.”
He pulled a small flashlight out of the glove compartment. “Let’s try the back door. I doubt Doc reset the alarm, if it was on in the first place.”
They exited the car, taking care not to slam the doors, and crept along the walkway until they reached the kitchen door. Daniel tried the doorknob. It was locked.
Cam pulled out her lock pick set from her pocket, smaller than a change purse. A few seconds and the door lock sprung open. He shook his head at her, marveled. She turned the knob slowly and slipped in, Daniel behind her. They stood in the small night-shrouded kitchen, listened. They heard voices coming through the dining room.
Doc’s voice was filled with rage. “Shut up, you murdering bastard, or I’ll stuff the gag back in your mouth before I cut your throat.”
Cam pulled out her cell, pressed record.
Markham’s voice was low, pleading. “What can I say to make you believe me? I didn’t kill Deborah. I honestly thought you killed her and that’s why I hired the P.I. Don’t you remember that party? You didn’t want Deborah to have anything to do with us, you hated that she was an actress. I thought she finally threw you out and you killed her.”
They heard a hand strike flesh, then Doc’s hard voice. “You confessed!”
“I had to or you would have killed both me and my wife. But I didn’t kill Deborah. She was starring in my movie. I had no reason to kill her.”
“Did you really think I’d let you frame me for Deborah’s murder after you killed her? Let you just walk away?”
“Didn’t you hear me? You have no proof I killed her because there isn’t any!”
Doc laughed. “It’s enough that I know, Markham. You overplayed your hand, hiring that P.I., siccing the FBI on me whenever you had a chance. Oh yes, I know what you did, what you said, how you kept pushing me in their faces. I was in the inner circle, a victim. They felt sorry for me, all of them did, and they talked.”
“You’ve got to stop this. I didn’t kill Deborah. I didn’t have a motive. Why won’t you believe me?”
“Believe you? You’re not even a good liar. I’m going to kill you, Markham, whatever you say. It’s up to you if you want to go out a coward or die like a man, own up to what you did. You murdered the woman I loved.” He was breathing hard, nearly beside himself.
Markham remained silent.
“Your wife won’t grieve for you. She knows you cheated your way through eighteen years of marriage. Do you think she kept count of all the young actresses you stashed in your little house in the Colony? Deborah told me you charged Connie a bit of rent, to make it look good, and both of you denied you were sleeping together. What a joke. How many other actresses before Connie did you keep there? They slept with you, sold their bodies to you, so you’d get them roles? Your precious wife is still tied up. I could go back there, finish it for her. And I would. Up to you. I want the truth, now.”
Theo Markham finally spoke, his voice low and flat. He sounded broken, in pain. How many times had Doc struck him, tortured him before they’d arrived? “I loved Connie more than anyone and you murdered her, sliced her throat. You’re the monster here, not me. Connie had what it took to be a star, with or without me cheering her on. I loved her, do you hear me, you crazy bastard? And you killed her!”
Doc gave a small chuckle. “I really enjoyed killing her. Let me tell you about it. She was asleep, probably dreaming of some handsome young stud, not a middle-aged man she was having to suffer sleeping with to get her start in some idiot movie. You know what? There was a script open on the bed beside her. It was The Crown Prince, the role Deborah wanted and deserved. Her eyes popped open just as I sliced across her neck. She stared up at me with her big beautiful green eyes, and she never made a sound. I watched her die. Like you watched Deborah die, you bastard. There’s one thing I want to know from you before I cut your throat and let you join your little slut in hell. How did you know it was me?”
“I saw you.”
“No, that’s not possible. I checked, you were at that splashy party at your house that night.”
“I was only fifteen minutes away. I never drove into the Colony, I always parked outside, came in under the fence. I saw you leaving the house, and I went in and she was dead.”
“How did you know who I was?” He slapped his hand to his forehead. “How could I forget that party at that degenerate’s house six months ago? That producer’s house, Willard Lambeth, that was his name. You telling me you actually remembered me, after six months?”
“Of course. The way you acted, your obvious disdain for all of us in the business, the way you treated Deborah.”
“Then why didn’t you tell the cops?”
Markham actually laughed. “You’re so smart, who do you think they would have put at the top of their suspect list? Me, of course, they’d have painted me the jilted lover. I had no proof you were there, and I wouldn’t have stood a chance. Even if they didn’t convict me, I would have been ruined, my career, my marriage, over.”
“You murdered Deborah for revenge, didn’t you? You gave Deborah that part she wanted so badly in your damned movie, and you sent her out of the country. All that time you were planning how to set it up.”