The speakeasy on Blake street is hidden behind an unremarkable black door down an alleyway. Passersby ignore it every day and only those who know what goes on inside ever stop and linger.
Lysander knocks on the door once, twice, three times before the barkeep opens the door and leads him down into the dimly lit basement bar. Castiel, who runs the place, has been a source of information many times before, and if he knows something now, Lysander is sure to hear it.
Lysander takes a seat on a bar stool, while Castiel assumes his position behind the bar and begins cleaning glasses. Castiel offers him a drink, but Lysander declines. He'll be no of use to the case if he gets a foggy head.
Lysander removes his notebook from the pocket of his trench coat and prepares to take notes. "Have you seen Amber Pascal around here lately ?"
"She stops by fairly often," Castiel says, nodding, "Shame what happened to her." Despite her fame Amber could count on her fellow patrons' silence. To admit to seeing her there was to admit to their own illegal activities.
"When was the last time she you saw her here ?"
Castiel sets a glass down as he pauses to think. "Maybe a night or two before she died ? She was celebrating, showing off and buying people drinks. She said they were making a script of hers into a movie."
Lysander hastily writes everything Castiel said into his notebook. This is the first he's heard about a script.
"Oh and another thing," Castiel begins, his voice going up as he recalls something, "There's a guy hanging around that night, getting a little too friendly with Amber. She was having none of it though."
"Can you describe him ?" Lysander writes down the man's characteristics as Castiel mentions them; blond hair that was long for a man, foreign, light coloured eyes, muscular...
Could this mystery man have been so enraged by Amber's rejection of him that he committed the ultimate sin ? Lysander's not prepared to rule out any possibility.
Lysander lays his card on the bar, "If you see him again or hear anything, please call me."
Castiel's earlier mention of Amber's script intrigues him, he'll have to pay a visit to her studio. But first he has someone to see.
Capucine Carré's apartment is small and modest, but the delicate touches in the decor show it's a well loved home. It's immaculately clean, apart from the tissues covering the coffee table.
Capucine is distraught, her eyes are bloodshot and her nose has been rubbed red raw. She's been at it so long that she's crying without tears now.
She bawls, telling Lysander how she met Amber when they were just kids in school. They sat beside each other in English class and Capucine would share her notes with Amber who never bothered to read the book they were reporting on.
Capucine has a solid alibi for the night of the murder; she was working. So Lysander doesn't stay long, only pausing to ask for Li's number; it isn't easy tracking down numbers belonging to celebrities, even ones from yesteryear.
Gracious, despite her trauma, Capucine allows Lysander to call and arrange an appointment with Li from her telephone. He recognises the voice on the end of the line from a few films he's seen long ago, although this time the voice sounds eager. Li wants to see him soon.
Metro-Goldwyn-Mayer's lot is massive, with building facades, sets, and offices going on for miles. Hundreds of people work here, maybe even thousands, all of them working to create the glitz and glamour one sees on screen.
Hardly knowing where to start, Lysander begins with the entrance building and speaks to the secretary. The secretary, a polite and proper young woman, does her best to remain professional despite the horror of Amber's death. Her face turns sombre when Lysander tells her the purpose of his visit, but she's helpful all the same, directing him to an assistant who frequently aided Amber.
It takes him a while to make his way there, getting lost in a maze of sets, but eventually Lysander finds himself in front of Violette, the assistant Amber had worked with a lot. She too begins to cry when Lysander mentions his investigation.
"What did you do for Amber ?" Lysander asks.
With the back of an ink-stained hand, Violette wipes the outer corners of her eye. "I'm a personal assistant here, I help a lot of stars, but Amber especially. I ran her errands, took her calls, helped her rehearse her scripts, those sorts of things." Violette's voice was soft to begin with, but now it begins to shake too. "It's not what I pictured I'd be doing when I started working for the studio.." her voice trails off, but quickly perks back up again. "But I was lucky to have known Amber."
Violette begins to weep all the more, and she needs to take a seat to continue. "What can I do?"
Lysander readies his notebook and takes a seat next to her. "Was Amber worried about anything or anyone, did she have any run-ins on set or with a fan, perhaps?"
Violette shakes her head gently. She looks helpless. "No, nothing at all." Violette stops, and leans backwards with her head against the wall, desperate to think of anything."She did s- I don't think it matters, but she did say her friends were jealous of her."
Quickly, Lysander writes in his notebook. That titbit could be of some use. "One more thing," he asks, do you know anything about a script Amber wrote ?"
Violette sits up straight again, her voice abrupt, "I haven't heard anything about that, you should ask Mr. Faraize."
Mr. Claude Faraize is one of the biggest names in Hollywood. As a director, producer, and head of MGM, he's responsible for many of the world's most famous films. Despite his authority and success, he's a rather nervous fellow, his hands shaking when Lysander greets him. He was happy to speak to Lysander at once, cancelling his appointments and ready to do anything help solve the murder.
He doesn't strike Lysander as a usually talkative man, but Mr. Faraize speaks at length about what a tragedy this is and how the world is worse off for having lost Amber. When Lysander inquires about the script, he has even more to say.
"I never knew she could write like that," Mr. Faraize begins, his voice quiet and wistful , "it was beautiful. It was about a young woman standing up for herself after so many heartaches. She was going to star in it too."
Amber was always known for her femme fatale roles. To Lysander it seems she would have been playing against type. What a treat that would have been to see.
When Lysander returns to his office, Li Tao is already waiting for him. She's sitting in the chair in front of his desk, her legs crossed, as she removes a cigarette from her bag. She goes to light it, but remembers her manners at the last moment, "Do you mind if I smoke ?"
"Not at all, go ahead." Lysander readies a pen and his notebook as the already dingy room fills with smoke. Truthfully, he doesn't like anyone smoking in his space, but it doesn't help to get off on the wrong foot with a potential informant.
"May I ask, what was your relationship like with Amber ?" Lysander asks, his pen already touching paper.
Li exhales, a cloud of smoke separating them on either sides of the desk. "We were friends, colleagues."
Lysander adopts an even kinder tone than usual, it pays to appear casual when asking difficult questions. "I've heard you were jealous of her, is that true ?"
"Of course," Li takes it in her stride, not batting an eyelid, and speaks candidly, "I haven't been getting many roles lately, and Amber is, was, more popular than ever. Of course I was jealous, but that doesn't mean I killed her."
Lysander, for all he's seen, is taken aback. If he didn't suspect Li before he certainly does now. Are the guilty aware how guilty they look ? Is that why they seek to nip assumptions in the bud before anyone even has time to make them ?
Lysander clears his throat and changes the subject. "An what about Miss Capucine Carré, was she jealous of Amber ?"
Li laughs, dry and sarcastic, her long black hair bouncing as she does so. "A switchboard operator hanging around Hollywood's bright new thing, what do you think." Li rises from her seat and stand over Lysander, looking over him. "I'm not accusing, but Amber was going from strength to strength and had a lot less time for Capucine lately. Make of that what you will."
Lysander leads Li out of the office, holding the door for her and watches as she exits through the reception, and down the stairs onto those dreary streets, her shadow following behind her.
He's about the return to his office when Rosalya stops him. He's had three calls while he was away, all of the Nathaniel, looking for an update. He takes the call in his office, and Nathaniel has a lot to ask, and just as much to answer for.
Lysander informs him that he's been following up a few leads, he leaves it vague, enough to satisfy him without giving false hope or getting ahead of himself. Nathaniel sounds relieved to hear there's been progress.
"I've been meaning to ask, what's your father's connection to the mob."
There's a long sigh on the other line, Nathaniel sounds tired. "I know my father isn't the greatest man, but I don't think he has anything to do with Amber's death, I'd tell you if he did." Nathaniel pauses, and his voice sounds apologetic when he finally does speak. "My father is of high standing in the mob, no one would cross him."
Lysander decides not to push the matter further, and moves to another question. "Did you know about this script your sister wrote ?"
"Amber ?" Nathaniel sounds confused, "I had no idea. Amber wasn't a writer."
He isn't the first person to have thought that.
"Thank you for your time officer."
Lysander hangs up and is about to call MGM and arrange another appointment with Mr. Faraize when Castiel, the barkeep calls. Castiel, unfortunately, is the bearer of bad news; the man seen flirting with Amber was picked up by the police the night of her murder. Castiel doesn't know what he was arrested for, but apparently it was severe enough that he's being deported.
Lysander is ready to hang up, frustrated at another dead lead when Castiel speaks again.
"I remembered something and thought I should tell you. Amber was in here about a week before she died with another woman. She gave Amber something, I don't know but it looked like a book."
Lysander quickly hurries to find a pen, "Can you tell me what she look like ?"
As Castiel describes her, a mental picture form in Lysander's mind, and he knows exactly who he's talking about.