Lysander sits behind his desk drinking bad coffee and re-reading last night's paper. He has time to kill this morning so he glances over the headlines; a train wreck out east, a spate of burglaries over in Fairfax, but the big news is a local business, Erinyes Industries, is being investigated for ties to the mob.
He doesn't get a chance to read the article when Rosalya comes to the office door, looking grim. "There's an Officer Nathaniel Pascal here to see you."
Officer Pascal strolls in wearing his LAPD uniform and looking even worse for wear than Rosa. He sits himself in front of Lysander and before he can be offered something the drink, his eyes start watering. "My sister was murdered last night and I need you to investigate."
Lysander, taken aback, starts to offer his condolences, but Nathaniel interrupts him. "I know about your reputation as a detective from your days on the force, and if I hire you, your investigation doesn't have to be bound by the limits of the law." Nathaniel looks young, definitely a rookie cop, and he's already this jaded. Though having your sister killed might do that to you.
Lysander leans forward across the desk, "Tell me about your sister. What happened to her."
Nathaniel reaches into to his pocket and pulls a photo of his sister from his wallet. He doesn't need to say her name aloud for Lysander to know who she is. Amber Pascal, the Hollywood actress. Lysander doesn't head to the movies much, but even he's seen her in a few things. She's a big name now, and her roles have only been getting bigger and more high profile. Or they were, at least.
Nathaniel clears his throat and attempts to steady himself. "My father found her dead in her home last night. The police say she had bruises on her back and the back of her arms, and that she died," his breath hitches, "from a blow to the head. They haven't found the murder weapon."
Lysander journeys to the scene of the crime, an luxurious apartment in a nice area of town. There he finds Francis, Amber's father, standing in the corridor outside the open door to Amber's home. He's a well dressed man, immaculately groomed, with a fancy watch on his wrist. Clearly Amber's money wasn't all from showbiz.
"Lysander Ainsworth, Private Investigator, I was hired by your son," Lysander begins, handing over a business card. He gets straight to the point, he never was one to dally, "May I ask you about what you saw last night ?"
Mr. Pascal nods solemnly and goes into the story. "Amber and I were to have dinner here last night but when she didn't answer the door I got out my key and I found her." His voice cracks recounting how he discovered his daughter's lifeless body dead the floor. "It's a mess in there, the LAPD say it looks like a staged robbery because nothing's been taken."
They can't go inside Amber's house, police orders, but they can look inside. Papers and documents are scattered everywhere, and there's a large bloodstain in front of the sofa. It's huge, there's no way anyone could have saved Amber from death, even if they found her earlier.
"I'm so glad you're investigating, Mr. Ainsworth, I don't trust the police." What an odd thing for the father of an officer to say.
Lysander quickly changes the subject and continues on with his inquiries. "Do you know of any of your daughter's associates ? Anyone who could possibly have information that could help ?"
Lysander prepares his notebook as Francis speaks. "There's a few friends I know of, Li Tao, the actress and a uhh Capucine ... something."
Lysander quickly scribbles down the names in his notebook and files it away in his jacket pocket. "Thank you for all your help Mr. Pascal."
Lysander walks the rain-soaked streets and stops off at a payphone. He calls the office and asks Rosalya to find the phone numbers and addresses for Li and Capucine. Once done he buys the morning paper from a newsboy on the street corner.
It doesn't come as a surprise to see that Amber's murder makes the front page. It doesn't tell him anything he doesn't already know, it doesn't so much as mention the manner of her death, but he reads it with keen interest all the same. He does, however, learn a bit more about her career. She got started in vaudeville before moving on to cinema, and once starred alongside Rudolph Valentino. The rest is reactions from the world of film, a few shocked remarks from fellow stars and industry bigwigs, the largest of these paragraphs is devoted to a Mr. Faraize, a producer and director who works for the same studio Amber was contracted to. Lysander's seen that name before, rolling on screen before a film starts.
The article mightn't give him much new info, but he notes the name of the journalist, Peggy Morel.
Peggy Morel's office is on the third floor of the L.A Sun building, and a large window takes up practically the a whole wall. On a regular day it would probably fill the room with bright California sunlight, but it's a gloomy day and the window only serves as a view to the grey raining clouds. As for the windowless walls, they're covered floor to roof in filing cabinets. It's unbearably claustrophobic, even the window doesn't help.
Peggy sits at her desk and motions for Lysander to take a seat in front of her. The chair is old and stiff and aggravates an old injury.
"I need to know everything you've got on the Amber Pascal murder." Lysander's known and worked with Peggy for long enough to know that pleasantries are unnecessary. Peggy prefers it when everyone lays their cards on the table, readily sharing information.
Peggy leans back in her chair, she has a glint in her eye. "I tell you everything and I'll get an exclusive with you when you solve this, right ?"
"Naturally." Lysander appreciates her confidence in him. To his credit, he doesn't have many unsolved cases. Just one. Neither he nor the LAPD succeeded in figuring which mobster gave him that career ending bullet to the shoulder
"Well then," Peggy begins with a gleeful smile, "rumours are floating around that Miss Pascal liked to drink at that speakeasy over on Blake Street. "
That speakeasy. Lysander knows it well, the barkeep has proved helpful in many cases before this. He's happy to help as long as nobody interferes with his business and for all Lysander's sense of truth and justice, he has better things to worry about than to pay attention to black market booze and bootlegging.
"And get this," Peggy says, sitting up straight, "there's talk that this was mob related. Her father is high up in Erinyes Industries."
It all clicks. If the business was being investigated for its links to the mob, did that mean Francis was in league with the mob ? No wonder he didn't trust the police. Could he have double crossed them and got his daughter killed ? Did he owe the mob money ? If so, his daughter had quite the fortune that he'd inherit.