A Cast of Killers by Sidney Kirkpatrick

“If Groucho were here, he’d say that theory wouldn’t substantially narrow the field of suspects.”
    Everyone laughed again and Vidor, sharing a warm glance with Moore, refilled their champagne glasses.
    “Who do you think it was, King?” Gloria Swanson asked.
    “What?” he said. “You want me to spoil the whole movie for you?”
    The bottle empty, he pulled another from a silver ice bucket.
    “King’s been working on some interesting angles into the mystery,” Moore said. “It’s just fascinating.”
    “Like what?” Giroux inquired.
    “King’s been studying Taylor’s last day,” Moore replied, looking toward Vidor, waiting for him to take the lead.
    Vidor returned the bottle to the ice. He took a sip from the glass. He had, in fact, been intently studying that last day. It was how he intended on opening the movie.
    “Nothing Taylor said or did that day could lead a detective to believe that it would end in violence. Why had the murderer selected that day? Was it motivated by some series of events, a sudden decision, or a bit of information that has somehow been overlooked?”
    He had everyone’s complete attention. He paused as a waiter removed the empty bottle from the table, then continued.
    “On February first, nineteen twenty-two, Taylor was not engaged in the actual process of shooting a film. That morning he could lie in bed until he heard Henry Peavey, busy in the kitchen below his bedroom, or could doze until Peavey came up with an eye-opening cup of coffee.
    “Peavey arrived as usual at seven-thirty, stepping off the Maryland Street trolley, then walking up the gravel path through the building courtyard, then to the front door of the small bungalow. Next he went to the kitchen, where he picked up the morning’s milk delivery, waiting on the back steps. Interviewed the next day, he did not remember seeing any strange footprints or cigarette butts by the steps—as the police would later find.
    “Taylor took his gold cuff links from his middle dresser drawer. What else was in there with them? Obviously, something soft and pink. Was it a handkerchief? A woman’s nightgown?”
    Vidor made eye contact with everyone at the table, drawing them into his story as his film would draw its audience.
    “At breakfast, Taylor read the front-page newspaper story about the raging Fatty Arbuckle scandal. As Peavey cleared the dishes, he noticed his employer’s gold cigarette case beside his coffee cup. It was inscribed WITH LOVE, MABEL NORMAND, CHRISTMAS, NINETEEN TWENTY-ONE. Peavey specifically remembered seeing this because the cigarette case had been missing since Taylor’s bungalow had been ransacked and robbed a few weeks earlier. The cigarette case had been stolen along with a package of Taylor’s specially made black cigarettes with gold tips.
    “What I would like to know was what Peavey and Taylor talked about that morning. Only a day or two before, Taylor or his chauffeur had posted bail for Peavey, who had been arrested for soliciting young men in Westlake Park, which, coincidently, was virtually across the street from the Taylor bungalow. Was Taylor shocked by the arrest? Was Taylor worried what his friends at the studio would say? I think not, or else Taylor would have fired Peavey. They likely talked about what Taylor was going to say on Peavey’s behalf at the upcoming hearing.
    “At eight-thirty, Taylor’s chauffeur, Howard Fellows, dropped Taylor off at the Los Angeles Athletic Club where during his morning swim and workout he encountered Mickey Neilan and Tony Moreno. Were these encounters merely casual, or were they planned? No one seems to know what was said between Taylor and these men, but both would figure in the mystery.
    “Later that morning Taylor went to the First National Bank, where he deposited two eight-hundred-dollar pay paychecks, and stock dividend checks totaling seven-hundred-and-fifty dollars. Did he withdraw money as well, which he would later deposit back into