7 Chapter 7

Arvo and Stuart walked along the perimeter road of the studio lot. As they neared the commissary, a group of people came out and walked towards them. One of them, a small, wizened elderly man, smiled and said hello. He looked familiar, and Arvo felt he should have recognized him, but he couldn't put a name to the face.

Stuart was smiling. 'Know who that was?' Arvo shook his head. 'Mel Brooks.' Of course. It was obvious when someone told you. They cross the road to the sound stages, huge, white hangar-like buildings laid out in a grid system over several blocks. There were twenty of them together, and in the boom days they might have all been in use. Now, though, many of them stood empty and silent.

It was easy to spot the ones that were being used because they had trailers outside for the actors. As they walked between the stages, technicians and office workers passed to and fro, some of them using little golf-carts to get around. 'Here we are,' Stuart said, pointing to the hanger ahead.

Outside the sound-stage door, the carterers had set up barbecues of plump chicken breasts, shrimp and bay scallops on skewers, T-bone steaks, salmo and swordfish. Arvo smelled the sauces and marinades before he even saw the barbecue and realized he had forgotten to eat lunch. Maybe later. If he was lucky.

They went inside and Stuart led Arvo over to the set. 'You might as well stay here, he said. I'll go find her.' Arvo looked around. He was in fake police precinct, which looked as if it had been built in about 1930 and not clean or redecorated since. The puce plaster walls were cracked and stained, the wooden desks scratched. The glass in one of the windows was broken and paintwork around it was chipped and grimy. It looked derelict now, but under the 50,000-watt lights it would look only as grungy as people expected a precinct house to look. Outside the window was a night view of skyscraper across the streets, a painted or computer-generated backdrop about ten feet-high, which would look real on camera.

The duty rosters and wanted posters pinned to the corkboards and looked real enough, too, through the paper seemed yellow and dry. A couple of minutes later, Stuart walked back with Sarah Broughton. She was wearing what Arvo took to be her TV uniform, sa white simple grey suit over a white blouse, and carrying a black purse. Smaller than he had expected, about five-four, she was even beautiful than her photograph, though he got the sense that she was still at least partly in her character and trying look rather more than prim and severe than she would normally.

Her were eyes was deep, disturbing cobalt blue. The colour and depth of a cold ocean a man could easily lose himself in. 'Sarah Broughton, Arvo Hughes,' Stuart introduced them. They shook hands; hers was cool and limp. Then they sat in the rickety chairs, Stuart leaning back against a desk. The irony of a real detective interviewing a TV detective in a fake precinct house wasn't lost on Arvo. Sarah sat erect at the edge of her chair, legs crossed, hands linked just below her right knee. Her right leg was moving slightly back and fourth, as if time to some unheard music.

'Were all three letters addressed the same way?' Arvo asked. 'Yes.' 'What did the first two say?' 'I'm sorry, I don't recall the exact wording. They were short, much shorter than the third. I think he just said how happy he was to find me again after so long and he promised not let me go this time. He said would write again soon, that he had a lot to think about.' 'Were there any sexual references?' 'No. Not in the first two.' 'Any threats?' 'No.'

'I understand you think someone's been watching you?' 'maybe. But it's just a feeling. I mean, i haven't actually seen anyone,' 'Where?' 'In the hills across the highway. And further up the beach. I thought I saw binoculars flash a couple of times, but i was already jumpy. It could been anything, anyone.' 'Does the name "Little Star" mean anything to you?' She hesitated. Her leg started moving more quickly, as if the tempo had increased. "No, she said. "I mean, I don't remember.'

'What don't you remember?' 'Anyone calling me "Little Star." 'But it is familiar to you, isn't it? You think it comes from somewhere , mean something, don't you?' Her jaw muscles seemed to lighten and her leg moved faster. 'I don't remember.' 'Okay. What about M? She shrugged, 'It could be anyone couldn't it? I have a friend called Miriam. I know Michael and a-- What are you doing?' Writing the names down. I'll get the full details from you later. I'll have to check them out.'

'But surely that's not necessarily?' 'It could be someone close to you. 'Be he... he's crazy. I don't know anyone like that.' 'He could be appear quite normal. Let me do my job, Ms. Broughton. Just give the names and addresses. Everyone you know with the initial "M". First name, middle or last.' He smiled. I'm not going to haul people in for questioning, you know. I can be discreet.' Sarah's eyes flashed briefly, then she said, 'Very well.' She took an address book from her purse and gave him the information. Arvo went on. In the letter, he- lets- assume it's a he for now- he refers to you as Sally. Stu told me that's your real name. Sally Bolton.'

'That's right.' 'Why did you change it?' 'The studio thought it sounded too... I don't know... too lower-class. I'll never be able to fathom what goes on in the minds of these sales and marketing people. Sarah Broughton just sounded more California Brit to them. More classy.' She flash a nervous smile. One upper front tooth overlapped the other, and Arvo thought it looked sexy as hell. 'How long have you been living here? he asked.

'About fifteen months. Since a year last September, to be exact.' 'Before that?' She shrugged. I lived in lived London. I travelled...' 'And you came over here to work on this series?' 'No. That came later.' 'How much later?' She looked at Stuart. 'Let me see, she said. 'They started casting last January.' 'Did you apply?' 'No. I was staying with an old friend from England, Ellie Huysman. She used to be Stuart's assistant here. When the part came up, she thought of me.'

'When did you change your name?' 'March.' 'Any idea who might be sending the letters?' 'Not the slightest.' 'Ex-boyfriend?' She reddened a little but kept her composure. 'There haven't been very many.' 'Who was last the last.' 'It's of no relevance. He's dead.' 'How did he die?' 'When?' Sarah paused for a moment. Arvo noticed a tic at the left side of her jaw. 'I told you it's irrelevant, but if you must know, he died of a drug overdose.

Late last year.' 'Were you with him at the time?' 'No we'd split up.' 'What about the one before that?' 'That only serious one was Justin Mercer. I lived with him for five years in London, but that was a long time ago.' 'How long?' 'Ten years. He was older. An actor. I was new in the business. It started as an affair, then left his wife...' She shrugged. 'I can't very well see Justin pursuing me this way. He dumped me for a younger model just after my thirtieth birthday.' 'I didn't see his address in your book. Mercer does begin with an "M". Have you still got it?'

'No. We haven't stayed in touch. You should be able to find out easily enough, though. He's quite famous.' 'He still lives in England?' 'As far as I know, he does.' 'What about while you been here, in Los Angeles.' She shook he head. 'There's been no one.' 'Anyone who might like to have been?' That small smile came to her lips again, just revealing the overlapping teeth. Probably a few,' she said. 'But nobody who's been really troublesome.' 'What about dates, casual affairs?' 'You mean one-night stands?' 'If you like.'

'I don't go in for that sort of thing.' One of the director's assistants walked in and said something about getting the show on the road again. Technicians started ambling among the snaking cables at the edges of the phony precinct house. 'Okay,' Arvo said to him. 'Almost finished'. Then he turned to Sarah again. She sat down slowly. 'Are you sure you can't think of anyone who might be doing this?' 'No I can't I'm sorry.'

'Well, think about it, will you? And think about "Little Star." You might remember something important. If the writer did know you, it could help us find him.' 'I'll try. Is that all?' 'For now.' Arvo stood up and handed her his card. 'And get in touch immediately if anything else happens, okay?' She nodded. 'I understand you're leaving the country tomorrow?' 'Yes.' 'Between now and then, I suggest you take extra security measures, just in case.

Make sure everything's locked up properly, avoid walking around alone, that sort of thing. Common sense stuff.' 'I will,' she said. Outside the sound- stage Stuart picked up two skewers from the barbecue and offered Arvo one. He accepted. The shrimp was delicious, marinated in some sort of Thai sauce, spicy and sweet at the same time.

'What do you think?' Stuart asked as they walked back to the administration block. 'I don't know,' said Arvo. 'But I think you're right. I got the feeling that she's either holding something back or she really can't remember, Either way, "Little Star" means something to her. 'Why would she hold anything back?' 'That's one of things that puzzles me. But if she's not holding back, then why can't she remember? Whatever the reason, it's worth opening a file.' He popped the last shrimp in his mouth, said goodbye to Stuart and headed for his car.