Willow Pond (6 page)

Wilson leaned toward her, thick brown eyebrows nearly touching in the middle. “You and Austin. What’s going on with the two of you?”

She raised her eyes first, then her head. Their faces were no more than a foot apart from one another. For the first time, she looked straight at him. “You are crowding my space, Detective.”

He glared back, looking so furious she wondered briefly if he might strike her. But of course he wouldn't. After a couple of breaths he backed away.

“That’s better. Now, you were asking … oh, right. Phillip and I have no problems with each other.”

“Not even after he reported three of your stills to the cops? That must have ticked you off. Maybe you decided to get back at him.”

The bust to which he referred had been a publicity stunt set up by MGM studios to improve Phillip’s image with his fans. The three stills in question were back and running within days. It was a weak question, and it made Virginia slightly nervous on behalf of her niece. The fact that the cops were focusing on her and Phillip must have meant they had no leads in the kidnapping case.

She lit a cigarette and the other cop slid an ashtray toward her. She flashed him a killer smile. “Water under the bridge, Detective. Let’s not forget little Todd is my own flesh and blood.”

“Those three stills were destroyed by prohibition agents. How much did that cost you?”

“Why do you insist on embarrassing yourself, Detective? Anyone who knows me knows I’d rather cut off my right arm than do anything to hurt Laura or Todd.”

Wilson paced back and forth across the tiny room. “What about the shooting at McGuire’s?”

She frowned. “What about it? Not an unusual thing in my business.”

“Phillip Austin was the informant. He set up the hit for the Schultz mob.”

Virginia sighed. This man would never find Todd. He was an idiot. “Am I a suspect in my nephew’s kidnapping?”

“Not officially, but there’s no doubt in anyone’s mind that this is an inside job.”

“Then what are we doing here?”

“Cut the crap, woman. Just because no one has taken you down yet doesn't mean we don't know what you do or the kind of scum you associate with. If you are as concerned about the boy’s wellbeing as you say you are, you will quit being so evasive and answer my goddamn questions.”

She took a long drag on her cigarette and blew a stream of smoke into his face. Her voice remained calm. “If I had any confidence that you were anything but a foolish, incompetent publicity monger, I might be more inclined to help you, Detective. But that’s not the case.”

“Get up,” Wilson said, eyes narrowed. He tossed a set of keys to the younger cop. “Maybe a night in jail will change your mind.”

“Don’t be absurd,” Virginia said. “On what charges?”

“Lock her up, officer.”

She ignored the clang of the cell door as it slammed shut behind her and walked to the cot. They couldn't hold her for more than a night without bringing charges. She would wait until morning to call her lawyer. This was as good a place as any to do some thinking.

Chapter Eight

When rumors circulated among reporters that the Austins were going to do an interview, Erich had never considered himself to be in the running. Especially after Virginia Kingsley told them what he had written about her. He figured a reporter from the New York Times would do the interview.

But when he'd walked into his editor's office yesterday, Dan had greeted him with a glass of scotch and a wide grin.

“You got the Austin interview,” he said. “Congratulations.”

Erich stared at him, running Dan's words through his mind a second and third time, just to be sure he'd heard right. “Why me?”

“Must be those pretty blue eyes of yours. Laura Austin requested you herself.”

“Huh.”

It had been a year since he'd met the woman outside of McGuire's. She had made quite an impression on him, and not just because she was a knock-out. Something in her smile had grabbed him. Something he couldn't seem to forget.

The last time he had driven up to Willow Pond, Erich hadn't noticed either the water fountain or the two cherubs in front of the house. Extravagances for the rich. He parked the car, walked up the steps to the dark green double doors, and pressed the doorbell. From inside of the house he heard it ring like a chime. A maid, complete with starched white apron and cap, admitted him into a white marble foyer and asked him to wait.

To the right of the entrance was a room. The sign over top declared it to be “The Powder Room”. Curious, he peeked inside and whistled, impressed by the gold faucets in the sink. More extravagance.

The maid returned and showed him into Phillip Austin’s office. Prominently displayed on a central shelf in the room stood Phillip's Academy Award, which he had won the previous year. Feeling slightly ridiculous, but unable to stop himself, Erich touched the little Oscar. Just to say he'd actually touched an Academy Award. How many folks could say that?

The office was entirely masculine, walled by dark wood and furnished in brown leather. When Laura Austin came into the room and sat on the oversized sofa, she looked out of place. She wore a light blue, expertly tailored dress and the curls of her blonde hair shone like spun gold. She didn't say a word, but smiled at him from time to time while they waited. She didn't seem to mind that he stared. She was absolutely the most beautiful woman he'd ever seen.

Phillip’s arrival felt like a staged entrance. He looked every inch the handsome movie star in his tan silk shirt and brown slacks. Before he took his place behind his desk, he paused in the doorway to survey his audience.

“My wife thinks you will be fair with us,” he announced. “She had better be right. If she is not, your editor will hear from me. This is a delicate situation, you understand. I have to consider how this will appear to my fans.”

Erich made a desperate attempt to keep from rolling his eyes. Fortunately, he succeeded, but it was tight. This was going to be interesting. Erich was treated to another one of Laura's smiles, or at least to the hint of one, anyway. She looked down, staring at her hands in her lap and Erich had to peel his eyes off her. She was even lovelier than he remembered.

Phillip wanted to establish rules before they began. “We will answer any questions you ask about the kidnapping, but we will answer none about our personal lives. Do you understand?”

“Of course.” Erich leaned forward in his chair. “You might be comforted to know that most of the calls we are getting are sympathetic. Everyone wants to know how you are coping.”

“It is a very difficult time. Particularly for me, since my son was kidnapped because of my status as a major film star,” Phillip said, as if it were obvious.

Laura glared at Phillip, then refolded her hands and directed her attention toward Erich. “Phillip is right. It is a terrible time for us both. I try to get on with every day things as much as possible,” she said, her voice coming faster with every word. “But everything I ever did included Todd. I can't seem to …” She stopped and clapped her hand over her mouth. It was a moment before she was able to speak again. “I am sorry. I have to control myself better. It's just that I keep expecting to look up and see him smiling at me, or playing with his blocks, you know?”

“He liked to play with blocks?”

Austin had stipulated no questions about their personal lives, but she nodded. No one objected, so Erich went on.

“Tell me more about Todd.”

“He's a very energetic little boy. At bedtime he likes to run and hide. It was like a game to him. But when I told him it was time for a story, he would curl up in my lap. Stories and the water were his two favorite things. Oh, and chocolate milk. Have you seen pictures of him? He is the most beautiful little boy.”

She was looking at Erich now, but from the glaze over her eyes, he knew she hardly saw him there. “Yes,” he said. “The paper ran a picture of him right away after the kidnapping.”

She sighed. “When Phillip looked at Todd, he thought of the future. I looked at him and thought about how little and sweet he was. I love him so much.”

Erich barely had to take notes. This was classic. Readers would eat this stuff up.

“Whoever had the audacity to walk onto my property in broad daylight and kidnap my son will pay for what he’s done,” Phillip declared.

Phillip Austin was a Hollywood cliché. So far, Erich had not heard him utter one word of concern for his child. He wondered why Laura Austin had ever married him. They seemed entirely mismatched.

“Mr. Austin, did you do an interview with Time Magazine a few weeks ago?”

Phillip scowled in Erich’s direction. “I did not.”

“It is my understanding that you arranged the interview.”

“That is a lie.”

“Not according to the reporter who did the interview.”

Erich had been surprised that morning by a phone call from a Time magazine reporter. The man said he'd spoken with Phillip Austin for an earlier interview, and believed the kidnapping had been a publicity stunt. Erich hadn't agreed or disagreed, preferring to meet with the man first and see if he had any evidence to back up his claim.

Erich had to sort through some different theories now that he was assigned to this case. Some thought Virginia Kingsley or some member of her gang was responsible, others were convinced bootleggers had kidnapped the baby as a warning to Phillip Austin to stay away from their stills.

Phillip got up and stood at the window, his back to them. “Mr. Muller, you are getting on my nerves. I do not care for your tone of voice.”

“I have a copy of the galleys. It's a fascinating read. You state all bootleggers should be put out of business, and you target Virginia Kingsley specifically. Do you think she might have done this to get back at you?”

Phillip clenched his fists and turned to face Erich. “That article isn't going to be published for weeks.”

“It is on the newsstand tomorrow.”

“Still,” Laura said, glancing nervously between Erich and Phillip. “She couldn't have known he'd said that. Not yet.”

Erich turned to a fresh page on his notepad. “She has connections all over the place, doesn’t she?”

Laura glared at Phillip. She was frowning, and Erich was enthralled by the tiny creases in her brow. “Quite a phony, aren’t you?” she demanded of Phillip. “When did you become a teetotaler? If you caused this with your big mouth, I will never forgive you.”

Phillip returned her glare. “I’ll be damned if I’ll stand for this.”

“Six days before the kidnapping, you and Virginia Kingsley had a violent argument,” Erich said.

“What is he talking about, Phillip? What did you argue about?” Laura demanded.

“I will not stand for this in my own house.” Phillip said, staring furiously at Erich. “Get out, Mr. Muller.”

They were interrupted by a knock and Iris Nickerson appeared in the doorway.

“So sorry to interrupt,” she said. “There's a call for Laura from Virginia's assistant, Harry Davis.”

“Tell him I'll call back, would you?”

“I would, but he insisted I tell you it's important he speak with you right away.”

“Oh.” She stood and pointed deliberately at Phillip, the warning clear in her glare. “Don’t say anything more until I get back.”

When she returned, her cheeks were flushed. “Virginia was in jail overnight. I've already told them she had nothing to do with this. Why are they wasting time on her when they should be looking for the real kidnapper?”

“Have they charged her?” Erich asked.

“Of course not. Harry says they don't have enough evidence. They are releasing her later today. I have to go to her.”

“No,” Phillip said. “I won't let you go. It is too dangerous.”

Laura gave him a bemused look. “Going to the police station is dangerous? You know what, Phillip? Stop telling me what to do. You’ve made a mess out of everything.”

“I could drive you to the city,” Erich offered, rising from his chair. “I need to stop in at the newsroom anyway. It would give me a chance to change clothes.”

Phillip's eyes shifted from Erich to Laura.

“Give me ten minutes, Mr. Muller,” she said. “And we’ll be on our way.”

***

When they arrived at the second precinct in downtown Manhattan, Virginia still hadn't been released. Erich stopped at the front desk to talk with a cop he knew while another one showed Laura to the holding cell. Virginia glanced up from a magazine, calm and confident as always. She smiled warmly at her niece.

“Laura, what are you doing here?”

“I had to see you, of course.” Laura slid a hand down the cold metal bars. “How can you be so together in here? I would be climbing the walls if I was locked in a cage like this. Have you been here all night?”

“Yep. Since yesterday afternoon.” She got up off the cot. “Who told you?”

“Harry Davis called.”

“I told him not to bother you. I'm due to be released at five o’clock. What time is it now?”

Laura glanced at her watch. “Five-twenty. I'll find out what’s going on.”

Ten minutes later, the guard unlocked her cell door. Virginia collected her personal effects and walked into the main office where Erich and Laura waited. The women hugged each other and Virginia kissed her niece's cheek.

“Who is this?” Virginia asked, stepping back and frowning at Erich.

“Oh, this is Erich. He is a reporter. He was interviewing us when Harry called, and was nice enough to drive me into the city.”

“How gallant.”

“If you wouldn't mind, I'd like to ask you a few questions,” Erich said.

“Ha! Not all gallantry, huh? Forget it. I need a bath and a good meal. Come on, Laura, let’s go.”

Laura turned toward Erich, wanting to thank him again for the drive, but he took a step toward Virginia instead. “Are you involved in the kidnapping?” he asked.

Virginia spun around. “What paper do you work for?”

“The New York Herald Tribune. Please answer my question.”

“Leave her alone, Mr. Muller,” Laura said, frowning with concern. “Can’t you see she’s exhausted?”

Virginia came face to face with Erich and poked an accusatory finger at his chest. “I know you. I've seen your picture with your articles. You're the one who wrote those lies about me in yesterday’s edition. Tell your editor I am thinking of suing.”