Tim said, "I wouldn't mind watching 'em again. Especially three and six. Ped-Xing has more talent than I gave him credit for, if you know what I mean." He sn.i.g.g.e.red. Sergeant Sandy did not. "They're actually more funny than s.e.xy. I mean, especially since we know all the people. There's definitely a reason why Steven was a model. He still has the goods! His partners in the films may have been sleeping with him to score points on the show, but it couldn't have been that difficult, if you know what I mean."

Sergeant Sandy looked sternly at Tim and said, "No! I do not know what you mean! When someone in authority takes advantage of his position, that's never acceptable. I don't care how consenting the subjects are. It's wrong!"

Polly, Placenta, and Tim all looked at Sergeant Sandy with concern.

Tim nodded. "You're right. Steven should be held accountable."

Polly returned her attention to Sergeant Sandy. "Dear, I'm starting to become a wee bit disillusioned with Hollywood. It's all well and good to come to Tinseltown to make an attempt at becoming a household name like me, but if my intuition is correct, one of the contestants on the I'll Do Anything to Become Famous I'll Do Anything to Become Famous show is either trying to stop these tapes from surfacing because they're potentially embarra.s.sing, or they want them for personal gain." show is either trying to stop these tapes from surfacing because they're potentially embarra.s.sing, or they want them for personal gain."

"They're all caught in the act, so to speak," Tim said. "Whoever wants these discs enough to kill for them is probably someone who sees dollar signs."

"I've always had things that other people wanted," Polly sighed. "Talent. Fame. Fortune. Pepper Plantation."

"Husbands," Placenta said with an insolent tone.

"We could be killed for something as stupid as having closed-circuit TV evidence of hanky-panky," Tim said.

Sergeant Sandy seemed to take offense. "No one will be harmed during my watch," she said with such force and a.s.suredness that Polly, Tim, and Placenta instantly felt at ease. Although Sergeant Sandy probably couldn't stop so much as an invasion of carpenter ants, her presence made the family feel more at ease, as though she could somehow protect everyone at Pepper Plantation from whoever might be lurking around.

Polly raised her near-empty gla.s.s to Sergeant Sandy. "Cheers! To our knight... er, our knightress? ... um, our Lady of Divine Intervention?"

"When Dak gets here, I'll need a private room in which to view the evidence. By the way, if you have an edited copy, where's the original?"

Polly, Tim, and Placenta looked at each other. They hadn't considered that they weren't the only ones with the material.

"This stuff is usually stored on a hard disc drive," Sergeant Sandy said. "I suppose whoever maintained the security cameras has the original raw data."

Tim said, "I guess that would be Sterling Studios' security department. But wouldn't it be illegal for them to monitor a dressing room? It's like spying in a public bathroom."

Placenta said, "There could be a crazy person in security who wanted pictures of future stars. In fact, what is there to prevent someone at NBC or Disney or MTV from infiltrating dressing rooms for up-close and personal images to sell on the black market? With the way technology is today, if I were a star, I'd want my dressing room on every show scrutinized for bugs."

Tim shook his head. "If not a Sterling Studios security freak, then how about the show's producer, Richard Dartmouth?"

Polly was intrigued. "Hmm. Good looking but ruthless television reality show executive, climbing the ladder to success, finds that it takes more than charm to build a career, so he secretly videotapes his contestants."

"But why?" Placenta said. "They're not famous. Un-less cameras were installed to keep an eye on the possibility that someone would cheat-at the game, that is. But how do you cheat at a talent compet.i.tion, unless you lip-synch to Cher?"

Tim snapped his fingers. "Maybe, since the show is about proving they'll go to the ends of the universe to win, the cameras were installed to catch anyone who might harm another contestant."

Polly considered Tim's suggestion. "But why then would the judges' rooms also be under surveillance?"

"To protect you from the contestants. One might have held a judge for ransom," Placenta theorized.

Polly huffed. "So many possibilities. But there is one person who I'll bet has all the answers."

Tim and Placenta each simultaneously spewed forth practically everyone in their Rolodex: "Steven!"

"Michael!"

"Miranda!"

"Ped-Xing!"

"Thane! No, he's dead," Tim corrected himself. "Amy!"

Polly quietly poured herself another gla.s.s of champagne. "For pity's sake!" she groaned. "Listen to yourselves! And after all the years of watching CSI CSI and and Cold Case Cold Case and and Matlock! Matlock! We can't talk to Steven. Heck, even if he knows the discs exist we couldn't go to him for information. Same with Michael, Miranda, and Ped-Xing. They're all in the surveillance videos!" We can't talk to Steven. Heck, even if he knows the discs exist we couldn't go to him for information. Same with Michael, Miranda, and Ped-Xing. They're all in the surveillance videos!"

Tim smacked the palm of his hand against his forehead. "Of course! Brian Smith!"

"Duh!" Polly said. "It's Lisa, for crying out loud! The discs were in her apartment!"

Placenta poured herself another gla.s.s of Veuve. "Obviously, we're going back to jail tomorrow."

Chapter 21.

"By now, we should have a reserved parking s.p.a.ce," Tim said as he glided the Rolls into the parking lot of the Beverly Hills Police Station. Although it was only ten in the morning, all of the slots were taken. He let Polly and Placenta off at the entrance to the building. "I'll join you as soon as I can."

Placenta held open the door to the station allowing Polly to make a grand entrance. She strode through the lobby with all the confidence of a runway model, and spied policewoman Betty with her feet up on her desk and chatting with Garrett, the rookie who had caught Tim's eye the last time they visited. As Polly drew nearer to the desk, Garrett looked up and beamed a smile. He looked behind Polly, hoping to see Tim. Betty looked up too.

"I see it's the Princess of Pepper Plantation," Betty quietly said as she leaned farther back in her chair and touched her fingers together in a "here is the church, here is the steeple" fashion. "To what do we owe this insincere pleasure? Don't tell me I missed another big fat celebrity murder and you're here to interrogate the lone and somehow dubiously innocent suspect?"

Polly smiled, reached into the clutch purse she carried, and withdrew a packet of Tic-Tac mints. She took one for herself, then rattled the plastic box to motion an offer to Betty. The policewoman declined. Polly sniffed the air. "Two hard-boiled eggs and an onion bagel for breakfast?"

Betty's face turned red, she took her feet off the desk, and sat upright in her chair. She tried to smell her own breath against the palm of her hand, then slapped Garrett's arm. "Why didn't you say something?" she complained. Betty took a sip of c.o.ke from a can and then accepted the proffered mint. Betty sighed and said, "I may as well pet.i.tion the mayor of Beverly Hills to give you your very own card key for twenty-four-seven access to the prisoners who end up here."

"That would be lovely!" Polly beamed.

"I'm being facetious," Betty deadpanned. "But for all the time you seem to spend here, it's not a bad idea." She stood up. "I'm setting the timer for fifteen minutes. I can't give you any more than that."

"You're a love," Polly purred as she and Placenta followed the policewoman to the metal security door. Polly called back over her shoulder, "Garrett, dear. Be a gem and take care of Timmy when he arrives. You're a doll. Mean it." And then she disappeared into the wing of the building reserved for Beverly Hills felons and doyens with nothing better to do than slap their illegal immigrant maids.

"Company!" Officer Betty called as she rapped on the door behind which Lisa Marrs sat in deep despair. Betty unlocked the cell and held the door for Polly and Placenta to enter. "Do your business fast," she said as she left the star and her maid with the prisoner.

Polly didn't waste a moment of her precious time. "No need to offer a seat on your bunk, but thank you anyway, dear. We'll only be staying a tick or two."

Lisa was dazed from sleeping all day long. She looked up at her visitors and shook her head. "Is this like Groundhog Day? Groundhog Day? Because I swear we've done this before." Because I swear we've done this before."

Polly folded her arms across her chest. "Not to worry your little felonious f.a.n.n.y, I'm as tired of this as you are. I'm here for one last rattle of your brain. You claim innocence, and I was on your side for the longest time. However, I've just been shocked into reconsidering my hasty judgment."

Lisa stared at Polly for a moment, before looking at Placenta. "I am innocent. I didn't kill Thane Cornwall. I haven't harmed anyone."

Polly sighed. "Question. What looks like gold but smells like trash? No, it's not Charlie Sheen. But close. Give up? Good, because I don't have time for riddles. Answer. The set of six DVDs you had in your apartment, all of which you planned to show to Richard Dartmouth before selling them to Access Hollywood Access Hollywood, thereby ruining the career of your nefarious boss and raking in a good chunk of coin at the same time."

Lisa looked at Polly with an incredulous stare. "DVDs? Show to Richard? Chunk of coin?" She blinked her eyes with incomprehension. "What the h.e.l.l are you babbling about?"

Polly faltered. "The DVDs labeled 'Anything Goes.' I found them in your apartment."

Lisa shook her head. "You're funny. I'm in st.i.tches right now."

Polly pursed her lips and arched an eyebrow.

Lisa stood up from her bunk and moved the few inches to her washbasin. She turned on the tap, splashed water on her face, and used the sleeve of her shirt to mop her cheeks. "Think this through with me. I am ... er, was ... a lowly a.s.sistant to Wannabe Big Cheese in television.

You with me so far? I used to get to the office by seven a.m., spend twelve hours in h.e.l.l then it was off to Thane's for lousy s.e.x and being told I need to work out, or that I shouldn't have had a second gla.s.s of wine. Jeez! Nothing was going right in my life. I wanted a change.

"For a paycheck that maxes out at six hundred fifty-five dollars a week, I played the slave to Richard Dartmouth," Lisa continued. "When he tells me to copy a set of DVD discs and then personally take them to his house and place them in the safe, I figure they must have some market value, so I do what anyone who hates their boss and wants to move up would do. I made a spare copy of each disc. I did the same with the false expense reports he submitted, the love letters he exchanged between television's number-one Little Miss Morning Sunshine weathergirl on KRUQ, and sports commentator Matt Roth... yeah, you heard right."

As Lisa went on about her sneaky activities, Polly wondered if every a.s.sistant in Hollywood practiced the same level of unethical behavior, and would everyone on the planet, including the Dalai Lama, qualify to be a contestant on I'll Do Anything to Become Famous? I'll Do Anything to Become Famous? "I suppose you were saving all those gems for a time when you thought they'd be of use to you," Polly suggested. "Something to exchange for a promotion and raise, or to negotiate a lucrative exit strategy from a job you hated. With all the s.e.x on those discs, why not just blackmail Steven Benjamin?" "I suppose you were saving all those gems for a time when you thought they'd be of use to you," Polly suggested. "Something to exchange for a promotion and raise, or to negotiate a lucrative exit strategy from a job you hated. With all the s.e.x on those discs, why not just blackmail Steven Benjamin?"

Now it was Lisa's turn to look incredulous. "s.e.x? Blackmail? Steven? What am I missing here?"

Placenta placed her hands on her hips and made a scornful sound. "If you didn't know what was on the discs, why did you bother to have 'em copied?"

Lisa shrugged. "Richard wanted them in his vault. Only his most valuable materials go in there, so I knew they were important. If I'd had some free free time ..." She looked around her cell. "... I would have reviewed the discs to decide just how to use them." time ..." She looked around her cell. "... I would have reviewed the discs to decide just how to use them."

"Why did Richard trust you to take the discs in the first place?" Polly asked.

"'Cause Richard thinks I walk on water," Lisa preened. "He trusts me with the combination to his house security system, and to his vault. I have a strong reputation for reliability. He'd never question my integrity. Fool."

"You would betray that trust?" Polly asked.

"Let's get back to what's on the discs," Lisa said.

Polly waved away the momentousness of the discs and what they contained. "If you were so important to Richard, why hasn't he come to visit you in jail? I know your bail's been denied, but he could offer moral support. Instead, he placed his precious buns on Thane's throne as a judge on the program and has already hired a new a.s.sistant. He doesn't seem to have any time for someone who was supposed to be indispensable to him."

Lisa looked crestfallen. "That's s...o...b..z. People love you when you're on the rise, but they disappear when it looks like you're on the way down."

Polly leaned her back against the cinder block wall and looked through Lisa. She had slipped into a zone of contemplation and, as if in a trance, was unaware of her surroundings. She thought about the serendipity of finding the DVDs in Lisa's apartment in the first place, and having the potentially career-exploding discs in her possession for several days before happenstance again intervened, and made her aware that what she thought was an innocuous old movie turned out be the hottest ticket in town. "Where did those DVDs come from?"

Lisa was quiet for a moment. "I suppose confiden tiality agreements go out the window when you're sitting in a jail cell accused of murder. Okay, here's the deal. n.o.body knows this except Richard and me. Promise you won't tell? At least not until I'll Do Anything to Become Famous I'll Do Anything to Become Famous is over?" is over?"

Polly looked at Placenta, who grimaced and nodded. "Very well." Polly pretended to pull a zipper across her lips. "Spill it."

Lisa sat for a long moment contemplating her loyalty to Richard Dartmouth and how he had not reciprocated her fidelity. With a sigh of resignation she spat, "Screw it. The son of a b.i.t.c.h hasn't had the decency to think twice about me. I'm just the girl to forget all about my promise to keep secrets. This is it. "When Richard got the green light from Sterling Studios to produce I'll Do Anything I'll Do Anything, he had all of the dressing rooms bugged with surveillance devices. His plan was simple. From day one, he wanted to tape the behind-the-scenes activities of the cast and collect every outrageous thing they might do or say that could give the viewing audience a reason to put one contestant over the top in terms of votes. I figured the discs I had were just copies of dumb stuff that Miranda or Ped-Xing or Taco Bell had said after a bitter exchange with Thane. I was backstage during rehearsals as well as the first show, so I heard how much they hated Thane Cornwall, and everybody said they wanted him dead."

"If you suspected that those discs contained threats to Thane's life, why haven't you said anything to the police? Any one of the contestants might be the real killer," Polly said.

"I figured that Richard would hand over whatever might contain even a hint of evidence," Lisa said.

Polly shook her head.

Lisa looked defeated. "I guess the fact that I'm still here answers my questions. That lousy b.a.s.t.a.r.d! I'll kill him! He could very well be personally responsible for me rotting away in here!"

Polly clicked her tongue. "Life is strange. Everything can change in an instant. You hated your job and were determined to get out of it. And it happened, but you ended up here. The contestants on I'll Do Anything I'll Do Anything have been working hard to beat the others, but no matter what they do, the surveillance videos may change the course of the game, as well as the direction of their lives. If these images get out, Steven Benjamin's career path will definitely be heading south, straight on down to h.e.l.l." have been working hard to beat the others, but no matter what they do, the surveillance videos may change the course of the game, as well as the direction of their lives. If these images get out, Steven Benjamin's career path will definitely be heading south, straight on down to h.e.l.l."

Polly looked at Placenta. "Our time's up," she said. Then Polly looked at Lisa. "Sweetums, is it possible that Thane knew about the surveillance cameras?"

Lisa thought for a moment. "As I said before, it was a secret between Richard and me. But they were friends, so ..."

"The people who installed and maintained the surveillance equipment would have known what had been filmed," Polly suggested.

Lisa pursed her lips and c.o.c.ked her head. "Never thought about that. I wonder if Richard ever considered that."

"What about the other contestants?" Placenta said. "How do you think they found out about the discs? Perhaps a techie was working on the equipment and Ped-Xing or Miranda or Danny or someone saw them. One of them found out, then told another, who told someone else, et cetera. Maybe?"

Polly grabbed Placenta's arm. "That's all very interesting, dear, but it's time to leave. I'm sure this poor girl needs her beauty rest." She turned to Lisa and blew a kiss. "We'll have a party for you at the plantation when this is over."

The women turned to the door but found that it didn't have a k.n.o.b. Polly knocked on the thick window. "Policewoman Betty! We're ready to make our exit!" n.o.body responded. She began to visibly panic.

Lisa looked up and smiled. "It's rather cramped in here. And it's getting so hot! I was never claustrophobic before coming to this rat trap, but ..."

Polly banged on the door and pleaded for help.

Chapter 22.

"Trapped, I tell you! Caged! Like the cast in an Alec Baldwin play!" Polly berated Tim for monopolizing Garrett and Officer Betty and not coming to her rescue sooner. "Placenta and I could be locked in a room with Michael Bay and you wouldn't have cared!"

"Hey, it's not as though I left you two alone with Elisabeth Ha.s.selbeck!" Tim said as he drove along Santa Monica Boulevard toward Rodeo Drive. "The fact that you wanted out of Lisa's cell early only means that you got all the info you wanted from the jailbird and you're champing at the bit to investigate a new source or allegation. What did you pummel out of her? The demento psycho killer must have revealed something of value."

Polly suddenly forgot that she was peeved with her son. "I'm very excited. Drive over to Steven Benjamin's house. And step on it!"

During Tiara's career as a top runway model in Europe, she ama.s.sed a fortune flaunting the designs of Versace, Dior, and Cavalli. When she began appearing in print and television ads for Noxema and Maybelline, she tripled her wealth. Steven, too, had made a killing as a model. First recognized for his appearances in sophisticated ads for Brooks Brothers clothing, he made a bigger fortune when his agent negotiated a deal for him to be the spokesperson for the upstart online dating service E-Chromosome.

Although the company was new, and had almost zero dollars to invest in advertising, Steven's s.e.xiness made them the number-one online dating service in the world. His television ads were cutting-edge erotica and could only be shown after ten p.m. Women signed up for the dating service because they dreamed of finding a man who looked like Steven. Guys joined because they wanted to sleep with the kind of women seen in bed with Steven. And, thanks to his astute agent, Steven accepted a relatively small paycheck in exchange for company profits.

As Tim drove through the streets of Beverly Hills, he turned left onto La Dolce Vida Drive and maneuvered the car up a steep incline.

"I haven't been in this area for ages," Polly marveled, looking out the window at older Beverly Hills homes.

Making another left at Pica.s.so Place, the car came to a stop in front of an immense iron gate, behind which one could see a home that nearly rivaled Pepper Plantation in size.

Polly whistled. "Let's see what Beverly Hills Barbie, and her perfect-ten Ken, are up to on this lovely summer afternoon."

Tim rolled down the car's window and reached out to press the intercom keypad. Soon, a m.u.f.fled voice asked, "Jes?"

"Hola-" Tim began to say but was interrupted by his mother.