Free Copp On Fire, A Joe Copp Thriller (Joe Copp, Private Eye Series) by Don Pendleton Page A

horse. Very irrational, it was the first time I'd ever seen that in Bernie. He could get fixed on something and you'd have a devil of a time dissuading him, but usually he would yield if you could show him exactly where he was wrong. Not that time. I guess he died blaming her . . ."
           "Are we sure he died?"
           Franklin gave me a startled look. "I understood there was no question of that."
           "There wasn't much left to identify," I said.
           "But the medical records, dental charts . . ."
           "Why would he blame Justine? She wasn't even there, was she? Were you there?"
           "I was, yes. It was my picture—my script, that is. No, Justine wasn't there. They were already separated. He actually thought she had put a contract out on him. But it was just a freak accident. The horse stumbled and rolled over him."
           "So why would he think—?"
           "Oh, there was some question about... they found brambles or something wedged beneath two of the horses's shoes, enough to make it very touchy at times. The location manager couldn't figure it out because he said that kind of vegetation didn't even grow in that area and they were local horses. Bernie built that inconsistency into a murder plot, and, of course, he blamed Justine."
           "Why 'of course'?"
           "They were having a bitter wrangle over the divorce settlement. He'd been worried about a loophole in the marriage contract and—"
           "What loophole?"
           "I don't know all the details. But he seemed to think that she would profit more from his death than from any divorce settlement."
           "How much, would you say, was at stake there?"
           "Millions. Bernie had a beautiful incentive program at UT. Bonuses, you know, profit sharing. And he's turned nothing but smashes for several years now."
           "How did your picture do? The one in Mexico."
           He smiled. "That was Bonaparte's Reprise."
           Not bad. It had taken a couple of Oscar nominations and was a top grosser last year. I'd seen it myself and I rarely go to movies. I asked the writer, "Do you usually go on location with your pictures?"
           "Depends on where the location is. Actually, for Bonaparte, I'd just flown down with Bernie for a weekend visit. I did change a couple of scenes while I was there but. . . well, of course, the accident was very demoralizing for everyone. Delayed the shooting for a week. I was doing another script for Paramount at the time. Bernie was down there for several months recuperating, but I was there for only a few days."
           "Why did he stay so long? With an injury like that I'd want to get back home with the best medical attention possible."
           "Not Bernie. He really liked it down there and had confidence in the doctors. And of course he had this fixation about Justine, a paranoid fixation. I do believe he was afraid to come home until he was on his feet again."
           "And he never got on his feet again."
           "Well, but there was some hope for a while, some possibility that the damaged nerves would mend themselves, regenerate."
           "That never happened."
           "Never happened."
           I said, "Could we talk a bit about Melissa? Did she make porno movies?"
           "Did Justine tell you that?"
           "Yes. Have you seen them?"
           "I scripted one of them."
           "Why?"
           "Why not? It was fun. Pay was lousy but, I admit, it stirred my fantasies."
           I said, "What's to script? I figured those movies were thrown together on the spot."
           "Not all. It can be a challenging assignment. The one I did was upscaled a bit, good storyline, some humor."
           "But no Oscars."
           "Matter of fact, it won a porn award."
           We both laughed and then I asked him, "That's when you met