‘Johnny Montgomery worked that one,’ the detective said, and I could hear him smoking.
‘Do you know anything about it?’ I asked.
‘Best you talk to him. And he probably will need some way of knowing you’re who you say you are.’
‘He can call me at my office in the morning for verification.’ I gave him the number. ‘I should be no later than eight. What about e-mail? Does Investigator Montgomery have an address I could send a note to?’
‘Now that I can give you.’
I heard him open a drawer, and then he gave me what I needed.
‘Seems I’ve heard of you before,’ the detective said thoughtfully. ‘If you’re the ME I’m thinking of. I know it’s a lady. A good-looking one, too, based on what I’ve seen on TV. Hmmm. You ever get up to Baltimore?’
‘I went to medical school in your fair city.’
‘Well, now I know you’re smart.’
‘Austin Hart, the young man who died in the fire, was also a student at Johns Hopkins.’ I prodded him.
‘He was also a homo. I personally think it was a hate crime.’
‘What I need is a photograph of him and anything about his life, his habits, his hobbies.’ I took advantage of the detective’s momentary lapse.
‘Oh yeah.’ He smoked. ‘One of these pretty boys. I heard he did modeling to pay his way through med school. Calvin Klein underwear ads, that sort of thing. Probably some jealous lover. You come to Baltimore next, Doc, and you got to try Camden Yards. You know about the new stadium, right?’
‘Absolutely,’ I replied as I excitedly processed what he had just said.
‘I can get you tickets if you want.’
‘That would be very nice. I’ll get in touch with Investigator Montgomery, and I thank you so much for your help.’
I got off the phone before he could ask me about my favorite baseball team, and I immediately sent Montgomery an e-mail that outlined my needs, although I felt I already had enough. Next I tried the Pacific Division of the Los Angeles Police Department, which covered Venice Beach, and I got lucky. The investigator who had worked Marlene Farber’s case was on evening shift and had just come in. His name was Stuckey, and he did not seem to require much verification from me that I was who I claimed to be.
‘Wish somebody would solve this one for me,’ he said right off. ‘Six months and still nothing. Not one tip that’s turned out to be worth anything.’
‘What can you tell me about Marlene Farber?’ I asked.
‘Was on General Hospital now and then. And Northern Exposure. I guess you’ve seen that?’
‘I don’t watch much TV. PBS, that’s about it.’
‘What else, what else? Oh right. Ellen. No big parts, but who knows how far she might have gone. Prettiest thing you ever saw. Was dating some producer, and we’re pretty sure he had nothing to do with what happened. Only thing that guy really cared about was coke and screwing all the young stars he got parts for. You know, after I got the case, I went through a bunch of tapes of shows she was on. She wasn’t bad. It’s a shame.’
‘Anything unusual about the scene?’ I asked.
‘Everything was unusual about that scene. Don’t have a clue how a fire like that could have started in the master bathroom on the first floor, and ATF couldn’t figure it out, either. There wasn’t anything to burn in there except toilet paper and towels. No sign of forcible entry, either, and the burglar alarm never went off.’
‘Investigator Stuckey, were her remains by chance found in the bathtub?’
‘That’s another freaky thing, unless she was a suicide. Maybe set the fire and cut her wrists or something. A lot of people cut their wrists in the tub.’
‘Any trace evidence to speak of?’
‘Ma’am, she was chalk. Looked like she’d been in the crematorium. There was enough left of the torso area for them to ID her through X-rays, but beyond that, we’re talking a few teeth, pieces and parts of bones, and some hair.’
‘Did she by chance do any modeling?’ I then asked.