"Where did you read that?" Brainert demanded.
Fiona thumbed a pink Post-it and flung the book open. "Here, on page 224."
Brainert snatched the book out of the woman's hand and scanned the page for a moment. "There are no footnotes here!" Brainert exclaimed. " If Dr. Lilly really read such memos, then she should have quoted them, given them a proper citation in the back matter, provided photocopies in the appendix, cited an archive source!"
"How about the quote on page 233? It's highlighted in yellow," Fiona shot back.
Brainert flipped pages, read the passage aloud. " 'Benny Seelig, the studio manager and property master at Gotham Features, once heard Irving Vreen boast that "Jack Warner wanted Hedda so badly he tried to buy my entire studio." In an interview in 1966, Mr. Seelig claims Vreen had to cut Mr. Warner off with a sharply worded letter that ended with the line "I own Hedda. Don't ask again." ' "
I froze in my chair. "My god, Jack, Did you hear-"
Brother, did I ever. And if that wasn't a motive for Hedda Geist to punch Irving Vreen's ticket, I'll eat my fedora.
"Even the conspiracy makes sense now."
I follow, baby. If Jack Warner wanted Hedda that badly for his big Hollywood studio, then she could have promised Pierce Armstrong and Wilma Brody contracts with Warner, too. That would have been motive enough for them to help her.
"So, you see," Fiona continued to explain, "Hedda must have murdered Vreen to get free of his binding contracts. But she was young and naive-if not downright stupid. According to Dr. Lilly's book, when the news of Vreen's death hit the papers, the scandal ruined Hedda. All sorts of unsavory details were splashed across the headlines during Pierce Armstrong's trial. It came out that Hedda was having an affair with Vreen, a married man with a young daughter. No one would touch her for leading roles after the tabloids got done with her, not even Warner Studios. She went to the West Coast anyway, and when she found herself without a career, she used her sex appeal to land a wealthy TV executive as a husband."
"Did the newspapers ever accuse Hedda of planning a cold-blooded murder?" Brainert asked.
"Not according to Dr. Lilly's research. That accusation was never made at the time-not even by Pierce Armstrong, who, even through his own trial, continued to maintain that Vreen's death was a tragic accident.
"There! You see!" Brainert cried. "Don't you think Armstrong would have told the truth during his trial? After all, he was on the hot seat. He had every reason to point the finger at Hedda for planning Vreen's murder."
I shook my head. "No, Brainert, don't you see? If Pierce Armstrong had done that, then they would have tried him for participating in a premeditated murder. He could have gotten the gas chamber for that back then. Instead, the judge gave him five years for manslaughter. The man probably kept his mouth shut to protect his own hide."
"So why is he talking now?" Brainert folded his arms.
Seymour piped up. "Probably because Dr. Lilly tracked him down and encouraged him to tell his side of the story. He's an old geezer now, at the end of his life. He probably figures he has nothing more to lose by setting the record straight for posterity. And don't forget he's an actor at heart. A final bow in the spotlight through a book telling his story would sound pretty sweet to a guy like that."
"Everything you're saying is just speculation!" Brainert threw up his hands. "Dr. Lilly's version of the truth relies on hearsay from a forty-year-old interview with a man named Benny. If an actual letter from Jack Warner exists, then where is it?"
I answered that one. "I'll bet that letter, and those memos, are part of what was stolen from Dr. Lilly's bungalow. More evidence could have been included in Dr. Lilly's missing manuscript, too. After all, Maggie Kline told us that Pierce Armstrong gave the woman extensive interviews.
"But any allegations made in this book should have been proven in this book!" Brainert replied.
"Says you," Seymour cut in. "If you recall, the press showed up to see Dr. Lilly's talk. The doctor herself invited them, which meant she probably did have the evidence. She probably wanted to make news by showing the reporters the memos and letters first. Then she could have published all that stuff in her second book. That way, she could sell two books to the public: the first book about Hedda's life story and the second with Pierce Armstrong's version of how the murder went down."
"Only she conveniently died in an accident," Fiona said. "And then her bungalow was robbed. If there's nothing to this story, why all the mayhem?"
"Dr. Lilly's death could easily have been an accident," Brainert argued.
"And I guess her manuscript, tapes, and notes were accidentally stolen, too," Seymour said. "Face it, Brainiac, you're resisting reality because Hedda Giest-Middleton is your business partner."
Brainert arched an eyebrow. "Reality? I'll give you reality, mailman. In my opinion, Dr. Lilly wrote a sensationalistic attempt to cash in on a very public tragedy. She only dished up enough dirt to hurt a gracious old woman-and hustle a few dollars for herself. I hate to say such things about a fellow academic, but I'm afraid everything I've said is true."
"Come on, Brainert," said Seymour. "Dr. Lilly wrote a lot of books. Why would she need money now?"
"No one gets rich writing academic film studies, Seymour. And I know for a fact Dr. Lilly was no wealthier than you or I. But if she published a sensational book about a Hollywood crime-well, that kind of trash always sells."
"It's true," Fiona said. "I'm sure Dr. Lilly would have gotten Hollywood interest with a book based on this story-an original cable-channel movie at the very least."
Brainert nodded. "How many books of fiction and fact have been based on the Black Dahlia murder, for instance?"
"Sure," Milner said, bobbing his head. "I loved Ellroy's Black Dahlia. That's a great Hollywood mystery."
"Yeah," Linda agreed. "And didn't Dominick Dunne write a novel about the Dahlia murder, too?"
"Wrong Dunne," said Brainert. "The novel you're talking about is True Confessions. It was written by John Gregory Dunne."
"Hey, I saw that movie!" Bud said. "De Niro and Robert Duvall played brothers, one a priest, the other a cop. It was okay, but no Godfather-"
"You see what I'm saying?" Brainert broke in. "Dr. Lilly stood to earn hundreds of thousands of dollars-perhaps millions." "Which doesn't make her wrong," Fiona insisted. "I agree with Fiona," I said.
I let my comment end there, because I didn't want to insult Brainert. He might have been an expert on all things literary, but Fiona was the expert where true crime was involved.
Still, Brainert sensed my snub. Stung, he tossed Lilly's book on the seat next to him, then folded his arms. "Okay, fine. I'll play along. Let's pretend Hedda did commit this heinous crime sixty years ago. Who would want her dead now? And why would that person try to destroy evidence of the original crime at the same time? Seems like the killer is working at cross-purposes."
"Maybe we're approaching this from the wrong angle," Seymour suggested. "What if Hedda herself was the one who unlocked the trap door in order to kill Pierce Armstrong? He's the only other person I can think of who knows the truth about Vreen's death, besides the late Dr. Lilly, who's already on a slab in the morgue."
Brainert vehemently shook his head. "I saw Hedda enter the theater, and I watched her the whole time she was there. She didn't have a chance to go under the stage and tamper with a door."
"Which would be pretty tough to do for an old woman," Bud agreed.
"Why?" Seymour demanded.
"Because she'd have to climb a high ladder, then wrestle two dead bolts open." Bud shook his head. "I doubt she could do it."