Anatomy of a Crossword (30 page)

BOOK: Anatomy of a Crossword
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“And what are your conclusions?” Sara asked.

Belle's glum face continued to regard her friend. “I have no idea.” Then she sat up a bit straighter. “A lot of what Shay told me this afternoon seems to revolve around Lance diRusa as a breaker of hearts and marriages.”

“He apparently had ample reason to bear a grudge against Chick,” Sara added.

“Enough for murder?” Rosco asked.

“Hear me out,” Belle continued. “Now, obviously, Lance could have entered Chick's home, and he could probably have found a way to access the
Anatomy
set or even the pistol range in Inglewood where the prop revolver was rented. But something tells me that the evidence pointing to him as our guilty party is too easy—”

“The simplest solution is often the best,” Rosco interjected.

“Let your wife finish, Rosco,” Sara chided.

Belle gave her husband an arch and meaningful glance. “Thank you, Sara.”

“We women have to stick together, dear.”

“That we do.”

The waiter arrived with their drinks, and the three fell silent until he moved away. Sara looked with some skepticism at the line of salt rimming her glass.

“Do I remove this or sip my margarita through it?”

“You do whatever you like,” Rosco answered.

“But what is the correct mode?”

“To drink it through the salt.”

Sara raised her glass and smiled, although the expression was still cautious. “Well, here's to my soon-to-be-embattled arteries.”

Belle also smiled. “I don't think you need worry about health problems, Sara. Your arteries are probably a lot heartier than mine or Rosco's.” Then Belle's face abruptly clouded, and her brow creased in concern. “However, if the accident that put Nan out of commission was, in fact, not a mishap, but staged—”

“Wait, back up,” Rosco interrupted. “Are you talking about Shay's theory?”

“No,” Belle answered slowly, “this one's my own.” She paused for a brief moment before continuing; as she spoke, her speech gained speed and momentum. “What if Nan DeDero was the intended victim all along, meaning that someone needed her gone from the set, and what if, ultimately, her removal was simply a means to another end?”

“You've lost me, Belle,” Rosco said.

But Belle scarcely heard her husband. “What happened after Nan was sent to the hospital? Sara was flown in as a replacement? And whose brainchild was that? Miso Lane's … whom I began to mistrust when I discovered he'd snapped all of those Polaroids back in Newcastle—”

“But where does Chick's death fit in?” Rosco asked.

“I don't know,” Belle admitted, “but I
am
aware that Miso had access to the prop pistol … and I also strongly suspect he's fixated on Sara.”

Sara laughed. “Not dear little Miso?”

“You see? That's exactly what I'm talking about, Sara! He has you completely buffaloed. He's up to no good, I'm sure of it.”

Rosco looked at Sara, and then at Belle. “I don't see how this plays out. Are you thinking Miso Lane is connected to Chick Darlessen's death?”

“I don't know, Rosco. Maybe Chick discovered that Miso was intending to commit a very serious crime.”

“Which would be what exactly?”

“Kidnap Sara? Hold her for ransom? Or her brother. Don't forget, the senator is up in Sacramento at this very moment.”

“Well, actually, no,” Sara said, “he'll be flying down here tomorrow to pay me a small visit. The coincidence of both of us being in California at the same moment seemed to warrant a meeting in the sun.”

“See! See!” Belle said pointedly. “This all could be a plot by Miso.”

“Oh, my dear,” Sara said, “I'm very fond of you, and I must admit I've enjoyed being the center of so much attention, and I'm thrilled to be able to spend a few moments with my ‘very important' brother, but this theory of yours seems rather too inventive.”

“Your brother's a distinguished senator, Sara. A statesman, really, with an international reputation. Perhaps this is part of a larger conspiracy. He's on the foreign relations committee, after all.”

Sara laughed again. “What did they put in your margarita, dear?”

“I'm being serious!”

“That's what worries me,” was the older lady's amused reply.

“Okay,” Rosco said. “Let's leave Washington and international cartels where they are for the moment, and look at what we have: one dead screenwriter, a movie set that seems particularly accident-prone—”

“And my peculiar crosswords, especially the last one with all the names—”

Rosco shook his head. “I hate to say it, Belle, but I'm beginning to suspect those puzzles have no connection to the other incidents, other than the fact that I'd sure like to know who created them.”

Belle stared at her husband. “You're kidding me.”

“No, I'm not. I realize the latest mystery crossword has a potential name match-up—”

“More than potential,” Belle countered with some heat.

Rosco took a measured sip of his drink. “Which sent you on a wild goose chase to the
Down & Across
set.”

“Where I just happened to learn that Chick Darlessen was Bartann Welner's nephew,” Belle argued.

“I think their relationship's completely circumstantial, Belle. Because from where I sit, we have a perfectly good homicide suspect in Lance diRusa. He had a motive for killing Chick, and a motive for wanting to throw a monkey wrench into the filming of
Anatomy
.”

Belle swirled the liquid around in her glass. She didn't look happy. “Everything you're saying sounds very logical.”

“Crimes often are,” Rosco answered. “Even crimes of passion have a discernible pattern—”

“So you're convinced the crosswords have no part in Chick's death or the incidents on
Anatomy?”
Belle asked as she continued to gaze into her glass.

“I'm following logic again, Belle. If the mysterious constructor has information to share, why doesn't he or she come forward rather than supply a list of names that includes everyone under the sun? Except for Senator Crane, that is.”

Belle frowned, then leaned back in her chair and released a long and weary sigh. “I understand what you're saying, Rosco, and you may well be correct … but I still would like to know who's creating those puzzles and why.” Then she looked at her husband with a lopsided grin. “Besides, I've never been a fan of logic.”

As the chimichangas arrived, and Rosco—to Sara's surprise—requested another round of margaritas, a black-and-gold pickup truck was exiting Rinconia Drive in the Hollywood Hills and entering El Contento. When it neared Shay Henlee's hillside home, it stopped. Max Chugorro didn't want to risk triggering the sensors on the exterior lighting by driving too close, so he sat in the truck's cab and considered his options.
Words on paper
, he thought,
it's merely words on paper
. His brain repeated this soothing mantra a couple of times, then he picked up the package lying on the seat beside him, and eased open the cab door. The time was right for Max Chugorro to make his move on Shay Henlee.

FAMOUS LAST WORDS

Across

1. Dyer

4. Toupee

7. ___
and Mike

10. Command to Fido

13. Bat material

14. Garden tool

15. Dr.'s group

16. One-time link

17. LAST WORDS

20. But

21. Mr. Gooding

22. Roofing material

23. Cook book

24. LAST WORD

26. Head of the corp.

27. Mr. Chaney

28. Business letters

29. Computer technology; abbr.

31. Track shapes

34. Truck full

36.“___dead body!”

37. Laker's org.

40. LAST WORD

42. Thelma's connection to Louise

43. LAST WORDS

45. Deuce topper

46.
Gigi
star

47. Dye type

48. Vane reading

51. First lady

52. “I___Rhythm”

54. Mr. Sinclair

56. Great revue

58. Mr. Carney

59. Flounder

60. Tic-Tac-Toe loser

61. LAST WORDS

65. Ms. MacGraw

66. 100; abbr.

67. With 70-Across, LAST WORD

68. 28-Across relative

69. Nice eau

70. See 67-Across

71. Lauria of
The Wonder Years

72. Type of trip

Down

1. Scamp

2. Tristram's beloved

3. Nickname for many a college athlete

4. ___
Framed Roger Rabbit

5. Debt; abbr.

6. Stage lighting filter

7. Veranda

8. LAST WORD

9. Roofing material

10. LAST WORD

11. List member

12. LAST WORDS

18. Cheer

19. Supped

23. Sheltered nook

25. LAST WORDS

26. LAST WORD

27. LAST WORDS

30. After a while

32. K–O link

33. NSW capital

35. Insecticide; abbr.

36. Court call?

37. B' Way's home

38. Feather stole

39. LAST WORDS

41. Imp

44. Worked a loom

48. Butt

49. LAST WORDS

50. Violinist Georges

52. Coffee option

53. Siouan

55. Tire fig.

56. Walk about

57. Wheel connector

58. Yemeni port

61. Mr. Ventura

62. Norm; abbr.

63. “Gotcha!”

64. Brando's first film; with
The

To download a PDF of this puzzle, please visit
openroadmedia.com/nero-blanc-crosswords

CHAPTER 35

Rosco couldn't quite decide what was more unusual: the fact that Lance diRusa's theatrical agent had revealed the actor's home phone number without subjecting him to a barrage of questions, or the fact that Lance was willing to meet with Rosco at the drop of a hat. The issue of diRusa's Malibu house being only a quarter of a mile down the beach from Chick Darlessen's rental cottage was another phenomenon that came as a bit of a surprise.

Because of the astonishing ease with which these potential problems had been remedied, Rosco scooted out of the hotel without bothering to check with the front desk for messages—meaning that he missed the
Famous Last Words
crossword puzzle altogether. All he'd taken time for was a kiss from Belle and the standard warning, “Be careful, Rosco, Lance may be dangerous … and probably is.”

At 10
A.M.
, the morning was already warm; close to eighty degrees, with bright sunshine reflecting off a lustrous blue ocean, it was a perfect day for a drive up the Pacific Coast Highway in a Mustang convertible. If anything, the ride was far too short, and Rosco spent the minutes enjoying the fresh air and wind, the sights of surfers combing the waves, and the pelicans riding the breeze rather than worrying if Lance diRusa really was a killer. It was possible he was simply a snubbed and disgruntled actor who seemed like a murderer. Why else would he agree to this meeting so readily?

Rosco exited the P.C.H., found Lance's driveway, and parked the Mustang near the actor's garage, beside an electric-green Dodge Viper. He was early. It was just 10:25, so he studied Lance's sports car for three or four minutes before ringing the doorbell. The heavy cedar door opened almost instantaneously, as if Lance had been perched there lying in wait for his visitor. “Like that Viper, huh?” he insisted with a cocky smile. “American muscle, just like me. A car needs to reflect its owner. That's something I like to tell the press. You see that Viper there, you see Lance diRusa. Special paint job. No one else has it.”

In both size and weight, Lance was a near duplicate to Rosco, and he presented a similar confidence in stance and demeanor. But the actor's handshake and his boasting comments told Rosco he was dealing with someone far more arrogant, aggressive, and egotistical than he could ever be.

“Come on in,” Lance said as his smile became less sincere and his voice took on a tone that was too loud for Rosco's liking. “It's a thrill to meet the real deal. I've been curious as to what the true Rosco Polycrates looked like. See, guys like me, in the industry that is, need to keep their mug in the papers, whereas the genuine article, like you, gotta do just the opposite. And I'm gonna respect that. I even turned off my security cameras … Yeah, I can't tell you how smoked I was when Darlessen screwed me out of playing
you
in
Anatomy
. I was really into that part … Brain and brawn … that's what I do best … my signature, you might say. Why don't we step out onto the back deck. It's more comfortable, and I've got a hell of a view of the ocean.”

As the two men walked through the house, Lance made certain to point out his collection of Dali and Picasso prints, and with each one, Rosco was informed of the purchase price and estimated value in today's art market.

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