“Being back in L.A., living well and running the family real estate business. He invited me to visit, said he’d give me a spin in one of his cars. As in he has a lot of them.”
“Platonic invitation?” I said.
“Hard to say with Brad. I chose to take it as platonic.”
Milo said, “What kind of case was he questioned on?”
“Missing girl, dancer at the Dunes, never found. Brad had dated her, was the last person to see her.”
“He ever go beyond person of interest?”
“Nope. No evidence of a crime was ever uncovered. Brad said she told him she wanted to try for something better and left for L.A. That happens a lot in our town.”
I said, “Something better as in breaking into acting?”
Marcia Peaty smiled. “What else is new?”
“Remember this girl’s name?” said Milo.
“Julie something, I can get it for you- or you can call yourself. The primary D was Harold Fordebrand, he retired but he’s still in Vegas, listed in the book.”
“I used to work with an Ed Fordebrand.”
“Harold said he had a brother who did L.A. Homicide.”
“No evidence of a crime,” said Milo, “but what did Harold think about Brad?”
“Didn’t like him. Too slick. Called him ‘Mr. Hollywood.’ Brad wouldn’t take a polygraph but there’s no crime against that.”
“What was his reason?”
“Just didn’t want to.”
“He get lawyered up?”
“Nope,” she said. “Cooperated fully, real relaxed.”
“Mr. Hollywood,” I said. “Maybe some of Amelia’s aspirations rubbed off.”
“He actually learned how to act?” she said. “I never thought of it that way, but maybe. Bradley can definitely tell you what you want to hear.”
I said, “Those birthday parties Amelia threw. Were any of them for him?”
“Nope, just for Billy Three and Nora. That had to suck but he never showed any anger. They were great parties, rich kid parties, I always looked forward to them. We’d drive up from Downey with my mother complaining about ‘those people’ being vulgar and my father giving that little smile of his when he knew better than to argue.”
“Brad showed no resentment at all?”
“Just the opposite, he was always smiling and joking, would take me around that huge house, show me his hobbies, making wiseass comments about how lame the party was. He is a few years older than me, was cute in that blond surfer way. To be honest, back then I had a crush on him.”
“He ridiculed the parties,” I said.
“Mostly he poked fun at Amelia, how everything was a big production with her. She was always trying to time stuff precisely, like a stage show. She did tend to go over the top.”
“Rented elephant,” I said.
“That was something,” she said. “How’d you hear about it?”
“A neighbor told us.”
“The grumpy old guy?” She laughed. “Yeah, I can see why it would stick in his mind, the smell alone. It was for Billy Three’s thirteenth. I remember thinking this is baby stuff, he’s way too old for this. Except he was younger mentally and seemed to be digging it. All the kids were digging it, too, because the elephant was messing the street big time, we’re whooping and pointing at pounds of stuff coming out, holding our noses, you know? Meanwhile, Amelia’s looking ready to faint. Doing the whole Marilyn Monroe platinum-blond thing, tight silk dress, tons of makeup, running after the animal trainer on these gigantic spike heels, everyone’s waiting for her to step in elephant doo.
Milo took out the photos, showed her Michaela and Tori Giacomo’s head-shots.
“Nice-looking girls,” she said. “They still that cute or are we talking bad news?”
“Any resemblance to Amelia?”
“Maybe the blondeness. Amelia was more…constructed. Fuller in the face and she looked like she took all morning putting herself together.”
“What about Julie the Missing Showgirl, see any similarities?”
She peered closely. “I only saw one picture of her and it was twelve years ago…she was blond, too, so there’s that. She did make the Dunes stage so we’re not talking a toad…yeah, I guess, in a general way.”
“What about these people?” Flashing the MP shots of Cathy and Andy Gaidelas.
Marcia Peaty’s mouth opened and closed. “
“Dowd looked like Peck?”
“My mom said Amelia bragged about it all the time. I guess there was some truth to it, except Captain Dowd was about five five. Mom used to say, ‘He’s Gregory Peck on the morning after an earthquake and a tornado and a flood, minus the charisma and sawed off at the knees.”
I said, “This guy’s been compared to Dennis Quaid.”
“I can see that…not as cute.” She studied the pictures some more, returned them. “You guys are dealing with serious bad, aren’t you?”
“You said Captain Dowd was no tough guy,” I said. “What else can you say about him?”
“Quiet, inoffensive, never seemed to do much.”
“Masculine?”
“What do you mean?”
“Manly man?”
“Hardly,” she said. “Just the opposite. Mom was convinced he was gay. Or as she put it, a homo. I can’t say I saw that, but I was too young to be thinking in those terms.”
“Your father have any opinions about it?” said Milo.
“Dad kept his opinions to himself.”
“But your mom was definite about it.”
“Mom was always definite. Why’s it important? Amelia and the captain have been dead for years.”
“How many years?”
“It was between the time Brad got called in for questioning and the next time I heard from him, which was five years later…I’m thinking ten years ago.”
“They died at the same time?”
“Car crash,” said Marcia Peaty. “Driving up to San Francisco. I think the captain fell asleep at the wheel.”
“You think,” said Milo.
“That’s what Mom said, but she was big into blame. Maybe he had a heart attack, I can’t say for sure.”
“At the birthday parties,” I said, “when Brad took you around the house and showed you his hobbies, what kinds of things was he interested in?”
“Typical boy stuff,” she said. “Stamp collection, coin collection, sports cards, he had a knife collection- is that what you’re getting at?”
“It’s just a general question. Anything else?”
“Anything else…let’s see…he flew kites, had some nice ones. Lots of little metal cars- he was always into cars. There was an insect collection- butterflies pinned to a board. Stuffed animals- not the girly kind, trophies he’d stuffed himself.”
“Taxidermy?”
“Yeah. Birds, a raccoon, this real weird horned lizard that sat on his desk. He told me he’d learned how to do it at summer camp. Was pretty good at it. Had these boxes- fishing tackle boxes with compartments full of glass eyes, needles and thread, glue, all kinds of tools. I thought it was cool, asked him to show me how he did it. He said, ‘Soon as I get something to fix.’ He never did. I think I went to maybe one more party and by that time I had a boyfriend, wasn’t thinking about much else.”
