Insidious
Page 49
- Background:
- Text Font:
- Text Size:
- Line Height:
- Line Break Height:
- Frame:
Cam said, “Do you think this movie could have been a springboard for Ms. Connelly? To bigger and better roles?”
“I review the rushes each day, of course. She was very good. The casting director selected her from an audition of at least sixty young women. I reviewed her audition, approved it. After that, I had very little to do with her.”
Cam said, “Ms. Connelly kept extensive records about her career—all sorts of impressions, insights, gossip about other cast members, directors, producers. According to her boyfriend, she knew a great deal about you, sir.”
That question got her a raised dark eyebrow. “I see. So is this why you are really here? If this is an interrogation I will call my lawyers.”
“Oh, no, sir, certainly not,” Cam said. “Had you met her before her role in The Crown Prince?”
“Yes, at a party, maybe six months ago.”
“Can you tell us about that party? Tell us your impressions of her?”
He gave her a stingy smile that still managed to charm, and slowly nodded. He paid no attention at all to Daniel. “You look familiar, Agent Wittier. Wait, are you related to Joel and Lisabeth Wittier?”
Cam nodded. “Yes, they’re my parents. But like your sons, I didn’t choose to follow them into Hollywood, I chose law enforcement. Now, the party, sir, where you first met Deborah Connelly.”
40
* * *
“It was your basic drunk free-for-all party at Willard Lambeth’s house up in the Hollywood hills. He’s a longtime producer, very successful, been around nearly as long as Technicolor. I escorted Connie.”
“Was she your girlfriend, sir?” Daniel asked.
Markham stiffened, then shook his head. “Certainly not. I rented her my house in the Colony in Malibu because she had great talent and I was able to lift some of her financial burden. That night I escorted her to Willard’s party because I wanted to let her rub shoulders with people she should know.
“An assistant director introduced Ms. Connelly to me. Of course, like all the young actresses and actors at Willard’s party, she was eager to meet people who could help her career. I remember she brought her boyfriend—this Doc character. I only remember him because he wasn’t what anyone would call an asset to her. I wondered why she didn’t have the sense to leave him at home. He was very possessive of her, didn’t let her out of his sight, like a jealous dog guarding a bone. It was obvious he didn’t want to be there, didn’t want her to be there, either. I remember thinking he looked at us like we were a pack of perverts out to despoil his girlfriend.”
Markham shrugged. “I’m a very visual man, Agent Wittier, and I have an excellent memory for faces, expressions, body language. I remember clearly how sullen he was, not even trying to disguise his contempt. I wondered if he might snap and do something stupid, maybe even dangerous. Even Connie said Doc was acting like a real jerk. She asked me to introduce Deborah to some important people, and tried to pull Doc away.
“I remember Connie telling me she was getting fed up with Doc, because he was always belittling Deborah and her work. Yes, Connie and Deborah knew each other, how well, I couldn’t say. This business runs on contacts, and everyone wants to know everybody else. They say only nepotism counts in Hollywood, and to a large extent, that’s true, but it’s there in every walk of life.
“I did introduce Ms. Connelly to a couple of producers. Her biggest hit was with Willard.
“All the while, this Doc character stood against the wall, drinking quite a lot of Will’s excellent vodka, staring at Ms. Connelly. Connie was doing her best to keep his attention.
“I can add that although I found Deborah beautiful, that isn’t what struck me about her, or struck Willard. She was smart, fast on her feet, and charming. She was witty, but not malicious.
“I spoke to her once more, caught her when she was on her way to the bathroom, told her she should have left her dog in the kennel, nodded toward her boyfriend, who wasn’t further than three feet away, looking ready to froth at the mouth. She laughed, said wasn’t that the truth, but I could tell she was pissed off. I wondered if she was afraid of him, a jealous, possessive man like that.
“There was probably more, but I’ve forgotten. It was over six months ago. Then I saw her audition and approved her for the role.
“I did see her on the set of The Crown Prince now and then when I flew to Tuscany, and I was pleased I’d had the wit to cast her.” He rose. “And that is what I know of Ms. Connelly. My meeting begins in four minutes. I bid you good day.”
“One more question, sir,” Cam said, rising. “You were acquainted with two of the six murdered actresses. If you would, you could be of great assistance to us. You were good friends with Constance Morrissey. Were you asked to reconstruct any information that might have been on her laptop and her cell phone?”
“I don’t understand, Agent. Weren’t Deborah’s computer and cell phone taken by the killer, as Connie’s was?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, sir.”
“I see. I understand that you wish to keep the stolen laptops and cell phones out of the media. However, I don’t believe you will be able to keep that under wraps much longer. I quickly found out from Connie’s friends and her parents who’d been asked to reconstruct any information, so it was obvious they were taken. However, Detective Montoya didn’t ask me. Even if he had asked, I wouldn’t have been of any use. Oh, she kept me informed about her auditions, how she felt it all went, but to recall them now? No. And there was nothing else I knew of that could be helpful.”
“But I was told you were of great assistance to her, Mr. Markham. Yet you can’t remember any of her business dealings?”
“No. I was her most important business contact. Is there anything else?”
“Do you believe the serial killer targeted Deborah Connelly for some specific reason?”
“How could I possibly know why this madman targeted any of these young women?”
Cam said, “Do you think your very good friend Connie was targeted specifically?”
Daniel saw it—pain and rage, a heady brew, passing over Markham’s face. Only a slight pause, then, “Yes, I do.”
“Why is that, sir?”
“Because Connie was going to make it in this crazy business. She would have been a star, maybe even without the help I gave her. It was only a matter of getting the right parts, and she was getting them.”
“I review the rushes each day, of course. She was very good. The casting director selected her from an audition of at least sixty young women. I reviewed her audition, approved it. After that, I had very little to do with her.”
Cam said, “Ms. Connelly kept extensive records about her career—all sorts of impressions, insights, gossip about other cast members, directors, producers. According to her boyfriend, she knew a great deal about you, sir.”
That question got her a raised dark eyebrow. “I see. So is this why you are really here? If this is an interrogation I will call my lawyers.”
“Oh, no, sir, certainly not,” Cam said. “Had you met her before her role in The Crown Prince?”
“Yes, at a party, maybe six months ago.”
“Can you tell us about that party? Tell us your impressions of her?”
He gave her a stingy smile that still managed to charm, and slowly nodded. He paid no attention at all to Daniel. “You look familiar, Agent Wittier. Wait, are you related to Joel and Lisabeth Wittier?”
Cam nodded. “Yes, they’re my parents. But like your sons, I didn’t choose to follow them into Hollywood, I chose law enforcement. Now, the party, sir, where you first met Deborah Connelly.”
40
* * *
“It was your basic drunk free-for-all party at Willard Lambeth’s house up in the Hollywood hills. He’s a longtime producer, very successful, been around nearly as long as Technicolor. I escorted Connie.”
“Was she your girlfriend, sir?” Daniel asked.
Markham stiffened, then shook his head. “Certainly not. I rented her my house in the Colony in Malibu because she had great talent and I was able to lift some of her financial burden. That night I escorted her to Willard’s party because I wanted to let her rub shoulders with people she should know.
“An assistant director introduced Ms. Connelly to me. Of course, like all the young actresses and actors at Willard’s party, she was eager to meet people who could help her career. I remember she brought her boyfriend—this Doc character. I only remember him because he wasn’t what anyone would call an asset to her. I wondered why she didn’t have the sense to leave him at home. He was very possessive of her, didn’t let her out of his sight, like a jealous dog guarding a bone. It was obvious he didn’t want to be there, didn’t want her to be there, either. I remember thinking he looked at us like we were a pack of perverts out to despoil his girlfriend.”
Markham shrugged. “I’m a very visual man, Agent Wittier, and I have an excellent memory for faces, expressions, body language. I remember clearly how sullen he was, not even trying to disguise his contempt. I wondered if he might snap and do something stupid, maybe even dangerous. Even Connie said Doc was acting like a real jerk. She asked me to introduce Deborah to some important people, and tried to pull Doc away.
“I remember Connie telling me she was getting fed up with Doc, because he was always belittling Deborah and her work. Yes, Connie and Deborah knew each other, how well, I couldn’t say. This business runs on contacts, and everyone wants to know everybody else. They say only nepotism counts in Hollywood, and to a large extent, that’s true, but it’s there in every walk of life.
“I did introduce Ms. Connelly to a couple of producers. Her biggest hit was with Willard.
“All the while, this Doc character stood against the wall, drinking quite a lot of Will’s excellent vodka, staring at Ms. Connelly. Connie was doing her best to keep his attention.
“I can add that although I found Deborah beautiful, that isn’t what struck me about her, or struck Willard. She was smart, fast on her feet, and charming. She was witty, but not malicious.
“I spoke to her once more, caught her when she was on her way to the bathroom, told her she should have left her dog in the kennel, nodded toward her boyfriend, who wasn’t further than three feet away, looking ready to froth at the mouth. She laughed, said wasn’t that the truth, but I could tell she was pissed off. I wondered if she was afraid of him, a jealous, possessive man like that.
“There was probably more, but I’ve forgotten. It was over six months ago. Then I saw her audition and approved her for the role.
“I did see her on the set of The Crown Prince now and then when I flew to Tuscany, and I was pleased I’d had the wit to cast her.” He rose. “And that is what I know of Ms. Connelly. My meeting begins in four minutes. I bid you good day.”
“One more question, sir,” Cam said, rising. “You were acquainted with two of the six murdered actresses. If you would, you could be of great assistance to us. You were good friends with Constance Morrissey. Were you asked to reconstruct any information that might have been on her laptop and her cell phone?”
“I don’t understand, Agent. Weren’t Deborah’s computer and cell phone taken by the killer, as Connie’s was?”
“I’m not at liberty to say, sir.”
“I see. I understand that you wish to keep the stolen laptops and cell phones out of the media. However, I don’t believe you will be able to keep that under wraps much longer. I quickly found out from Connie’s friends and her parents who’d been asked to reconstruct any information, so it was obvious they were taken. However, Detective Montoya didn’t ask me. Even if he had asked, I wouldn’t have been of any use. Oh, she kept me informed about her auditions, how she felt it all went, but to recall them now? No. And there was nothing else I knew of that could be helpful.”
“But I was told you were of great assistance to her, Mr. Markham. Yet you can’t remember any of her business dealings?”
“No. I was her most important business contact. Is there anything else?”
“Do you believe the serial killer targeted Deborah Connelly for some specific reason?”
“How could I possibly know why this madman targeted any of these young women?”
Cam said, “Do you think your very good friend Connie was targeted specifically?”
Daniel saw it—pain and rage, a heady brew, passing over Markham’s face. Only a slight pause, then, “Yes, I do.”
“Why is that, sir?”
“Because Connie was going to make it in this crazy business. She would have been a star, maybe even without the help I gave her. It was only a matter of getting the right parts, and she was getting them.”
