Free Murder on the Yellow Brick Road by Stuart M. Kaminsky Page B

Grundy’s place. I took another look at his card and put it away, reminding myself to ask if Nimble was his real middle name if I should ever see him again.
    It was a little after ten when I arrived at the studio. Buck McCarthy was on the gate and he sauntered over to me, chewing a wad of gum and pretending it was a plug. He leaned into the window.
    â€œMiss Garland said to hurry you in if you showed up,” he said. “You know the way?”
    â€œYep, you want to drive?”
    He declined this time, and I drove slowly to her dressing room. I didn’t see any stars, but a group of carpenters working on the fake front of what looked like the Taj Mahal. The fake front was leaning against a real building.
    Judy Garland wasn’t in her dressing room, but Cassie James was, which suited me fine. Today she was dressed entirely in pink with a red patent leather belt. She smelled like July in the mountains. When I knocked and came in she was pouring herself a cup of coffee from the pot brewing in the corner.
    She gave me a small smile and handed me the cup. Something was wrong. She sat in a straightbacked chair and crossed her legs.
    â€œSomeone tried to kill Judy,” she said.
    For a second or two I didn’t absorb the words. Maybe I even thought I imagined them, but I hadn’t.
    â€œTried to poison her,” Cassie continued.
    â€œHow? When?” I sat with my coffee on a chair a few feet from Cassie.
    â€œWhen we came in the morning, there was a pitcher of ice water on the table. Judy was a little nervous about starting the picture today and her throat was dry. I poured her a drink and started to hand it to her, but it looked a little discolored. I smelled it, and it smelled strange. So she didn’t drink it.”
    â€œThen how do you know it was poisoned?” I asked.
    â€œWe called the doctor. There’s one on hand whenever shooting is going on. He said it was filled with arsenic. A mouthful would very likely have killed Judy.”
    Cassie was certainly nervous, but not in panic.
    â€œIt’s lucky you noticed,” I said reassuringly. “Where’s Judy now?”
    â€œShe’s shooting. I told her to take the day off and wait till we talked to you, but she wouldn’t do it. She got sick once during the shooting of Oz and held up shooting for a while. She doesn’t want to do it again.”
    Cassie gave me more information. The dressing room door hadn’t been locked so anyone on the lot could have come in with the water. The poison water had been dumped out after the doctor confirmed the presence of poison. It wasn’t clear whose idea the dumping was, but no one had questioned it. The pitcher was glass, but with everyone handling it there probably wouldn’t have been worthwhile prints anyway.”
    â€œO.K.,” I said standing up and putting down the cup. “I think we should call the police. Someone tried to kill me yesterday, too.”
    She got up suddenly and looked shocked. I was touched.
    â€œWhat happened?” she asked stepping toward me.
    â€œSomeone took a couple of shots at me and obviously missed.” She took my hand. It was time to work up more sympathy.
    â€œThey may try again,” I said.
    â€œDid you see who did it?” She was looking into my eyes, clearly concerned and interested.
    â€œNo, but I’d like it to stop. So I’m going to try to get some police protection for Judy and do my damndest to find out who killed Cash and is trying to make Judy and me a duo of death.”
    I’d heard that “duo of death” phrase in a Captain Midnight show and always wanted to work it into a conversation. This was the first chance I had. I pushed my hat back further on my head and took Cassie’s hand in mine. I was glad she wasn’t wearing her tape measure.
    â€œI’ll call the police and tell them what’s happened. It might give them second thoughts about Wherthman being the