Greg Herren - Murder in the Rue Ursulines

“You’d be surprised.” Jillian said. Her voice was tired. “Everyone has their price, Chanse. And you’d be surprised what they’ll print-and what they’re willing to pay for it.” She closed her eyes. She fluttered her hand again. “You have no idea what it’s like.”

“No, you’re right, I don’t. I can’t even imagine what it’s like, and I don’t expect you to trust me right off the bat, either. So, we’re kind of at an impasse. I can’t help you unless…“ I pushed my chair back, and paused.

It worked.

“I’m getting threatening e-mails.” Freddy cut me off. Jillian spun her head quickly to stare at him, while Loren started to clear his throat. He held up his hand as Loren started to speak. “We want you to find out who it is.”

I stared at him for a moment, confused. Threatening e-mails? Why on earth did that need to be kept a secret? They had web-sites, surely, Myspace pages, you name it-there were any number of ways to send e-mails to them. And then I got it. “You mean on your private account? You think it’s someone you know, don’t you? Someone close to you. And that would be a scandal.”

Loren broke in. “Regardless of who it is, it would be tabloid fodder.” He started drumming his pen on the table.

“There are-“ Jillian bit her lip, closed her eyes, and squeezed Freddy’s hand. “There are things about both of us we would like to keep private, if at all possible.” She swallowed again. “In order to help you figure out-and stop-whoever it is, we’re going to have to tell you things.” She opened her eyes and looked at me. “Things that you cannot, under any circumstances, tell anyone else. That’s why you need to sign that confidentiality agreement, Chanse. We’re willing to pay you well.” Her voice became plaintive, pleading. With a jolt, I realized I’d heard her use that tone of voice before. In a movie, whose name I couldn’t remember.

She was, after all, a very good actress.

“Are these threatening e-mails…” I hesitated. “Is there a hint of blackmail involved in this?” I’d dealt with blackmailers before. One was even homicidal. “Because you need to understand that it never stops with payment. If this person truly knows something that could be damaging to you…”

Freddy said, “They’re just making threats, whoever it is.”. He gave me a reassuring smile-the same one he’d given Cameron Diaz in Love Unbound, when he was trying to get into her pants, despite his wife. “There’s nothing criminal in either of our pasts. Sure, there are things we’d prefer the general public not know about us-” He stopped himself. “I probably shouldn’t say anything more.”

“Let me see that.” I gestured to Loren, who passed the folder over to me. I opened it and looked at the paper. I read it carefully. I didn’t really need to have a lawyer look it over. It simply stated that as a requirement for doing work for them, I was signing this and promising never to reveal to an outsider the nature of the work, or anything I might discover about them or anyone involved with their lives, without their permission. If I violated the agreement, I would have to repay any moneys paid to me by them, and possible damages, to be determined by private, confidential, and most importantly, independent, outside arbitration. “You realize, of course, that if I am ever subpoenaed, this is just a piece of paper?”

“I’m not worried about any subpoenas.” Loren replied. “I can have a clause added that this agreement is invalid if you are called to testify in court, which is a moot point, as it will never happen.” He looked over at them. “Do you have any objection to that?”

Jillian opened her mouth, but Freddy spoke. “No. Do whatever’s necessary.”

Loren took the document from me and excused himself.

“You were going to say something,” I said, looking at Jillian.

“No.” She shook her head, drumming her fingertips on the table.

An uncomfortable silence descended.

The smart thing to do, I figured, was to refuse to sign the thing and not take the job. They were actors, and good ones. They’d convinced millions of viewers they were any number of different people. They played roles for a living. How would I ever be able to ascertain the truth of anything they told me? But I was also curious; I wanted to know what the hell was going on with them. I watched their faces, but got no clues. What was in those e-mails that had them so rattled? There was more here than met the eye, but I wasn’t going to find out until I signed that agreement.

My curiosity was getting the best of me.

On the other hand, they weren’t exactly normal people either. Most people don’t have every aspect of their life offered up to the general public for discussion and conversation.

Loren walked back in, and handed the revised agreement to me. A check for twenty thousand dollars, drawn on the firm’s account was paper clipped to it. I read it over quickly. It was straightforward. I hesitated for just a moment, then took a pen from my jacket pocket and signed it.

Jillian let out a huge sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you.” She got up and walked over to the sideboard, pouring herself a glass of ice water.

Loren rose. “I’ll go make a copy of this for you, Chanse, and give you three some privacy.”

Once the door shut behind him, Jillian took her seat again. “As we said, over the last couple of weeks, Freddy has been getting some bizarre e-mails.” She reached into a bag and pulled out a file folder, which she slid across the table to me. “Vaguely threatening.”

“One of them does include a death threat,” Freddy said as I opened the file folder. “Not I’m going to kill you but I could just kill you. A technicality, sure, but it’s enough to worry us.” They exchanged another look.

I read the first one.

Freddy Freddy Freddy:

You just think you’re hot shit, don’t you? A professional do-gooder, right? What would everyone think if they knew the truth about you? You don’t deserve to live.

It was unsigned.

“That’s my private e-mail account.” Freddy went on. “No one has it, except family, friends and you know, our staff. It’s not even registered through the server as being mine, you know? Our assistant, Doreen, set us both up with a private account under her name.” He waved a hand. “I’m sure somehow someone could have found out-I’m not the best with this computer stuff-but…”

“Who do you think would do this?”

“Where to start?” Jillian gave a tired laugh. “There’s my latest crazy ex-husband, Freddy’s ex-wife, my own mother…” She waved her hand again. “Everyone either one of us has ever been involved with has their own axe to grind, their grubby hands out for more money. We’re targets, Chanse, always targets. Remember that. Even when we are doing good work for charities-you’d be amazed at the things people say. I’ve been called every name in the book…but I am getting off the subject.” She wiped her eyes and smiled at me. “I do that, sorry. But I’m convinced it’s one of those three…I’m just not sure what their game is yet. But they don’t want to kill Freddy, I don’t believe that for a minute. Why would anyone want to stop our work here?”

“Let’s start with your ex-husband.” I said, mentally adding the words at least, your most recent ex-husband. I thought for a moment. “You were married to Dale Monteith, right?” Dale Monteith was a character actor who somehow had managed, through hard work and talent, to become a star of sorts. “I’m assuming the break-up wasn’t a happy one?”

“Well, forget everything you’ve seen in the tabloids.” Freddy replied. “The public story is that when we were making The Odyssey , we fell madly in love and left our spouses to be with each other.”