Free A Death In Beverly Hills by David Grace Page A

to Markham.
    "Tom, you know I've only started going through the files, but since we're here, maybe I can ask you a few questions?"
    "Why not? Everybody else has had their shot at me."
    Steve paused while a passing guard peered through the Plexiglas window, then opened his yellow pad. "Kaitlen Berdue's brother, Bobby, told the police that you asked him for a referral to a hit man. Something about a movie you were going to do. According to your interview with the police a few weeks after Marian disappeared the movie you were shooting was a horror film called The Boneyard , which doesn't sound like it has any hit men in it. Was Berdue making that up?"
    "Not exactly, I mean I said something about needing to research role as a hit man, but just as, you know, casual dinner conversation." Steve pretended that was the most reasonable answer in the world and after a brief pause, Travis continued. "There was this book, Hard Contract , that was really hot. Eastwood, Ridley Scott, and some other guys, all of them were bidding on it. The main character is this aging hit man hired by a rich guy to find and kill the person who murdered his wife. The twist is that the killer was a woman and the deeper the hit man gets into it, the more it looks like the rich guy hired her to kill the wife and now he wants the hit man to kill her to clean up the loose ends. Of course, my character starts to fall in love with the target. Hell of role."
    "So, you were negotiating for this part when you talked to Berdue? Will the director and the producer back you up?" Steve stared at Travis expectantly and was met with a blank stare.
    "Fuck!" Travis finally said, banging his fist on the table and turning away. "I gotta say it? You want me to spell it out?" Puzzled, Steve looked at Greg to see if he had a clue what Travis was talking about. "This town," Travis hissed, "this town has no heart, it's like a fucking robot monster. It doesn't care what you've done, who you were, only who you are . I was the number one box office star for four years in a row. Four years. Now, half the time they hear 'Tom Travis' they won't even let me read for the part. This was a big book with real talent behind the movie. I could have played this guy, played the hell out of him. A-Class director, A-Class production, best seller, this role would have put me back on top, like Frank Sinatra after From Here To Eternity .
    "Yeah, sure I wanted to talk to a hit man. I wanted any edge I could fucking get! I figured that if I could get some coaching, pick out a good scene from the book and get them to give me a chance, just let me read for it, I could get the part. So, yeah, I asked Bobby Berdue if he could help me. I knew he'd been in the joint. I figured maybe he could turn me on to somebody who could, you know, coach me."
    "But he didn't."
    "Didn't even return my call. Can you believe that? This fucking small time, ex-con loser won't return my call. Unbelievable."
    "Okay, it's not that bad. Even if you didn't get the part, the director--"
    Travis waved his hand and scowled when his wrist snapped to a halt at the end of the chain. "See, that's the thing. I never got the chance to read for the part. By the time I figured out I wasn't getting any help from Bobby Berdue there was a story in the Trades that Eastwood was taking the part for himself. Well, fuck, if Clint Eastwood is going to star and direct nobody wants to hear from Tom Travis. If I'd have called them after that, they'd have laughed me right out of town. God damn Leno would have put it in his opening monolog."
    "So you took the horror movie."
    "Yeah, I took the horror movie. A million bucks! Christ, there was a time when I wouldn't cross the street in this town for a million bucks. Hell, if you offered me a million bucks a few years back and I'd have punched your lights out for insulting me with chump change." Travis gazed sadly around the cell. "And I thought things couldn't get any worse than doing some screamer for a million