from doing the same part over and over,” Tim suggested. “I mean, how many times can a guy sing ‘My Best Girl’ to his old lady aunt?”
Polly took back the picture and studied the head shot. She read his other theater credits. “Perhaps the director found him hot in bed, but too limp onstage. That could be a motive for murder.”
“People have killed for less,” Placenta said.
“Sharon said they couldn’t cast that role for the longest time,” Polly said. “Perhaps Jamie was expecting that they’d eventually see that the right actor for the part was in their midst. When Karen ultimately said no, Jamie went ballistic and bashed her head in. Just a thought.”
“So, what’s this plan you said you have?” Placenta asked.
“It’s brilliant. I was trying to think of a way to refute Jamie’s story about being at Starbucks. The best way to get to the truth would be to ask the baristas who were on duty. When I saw his head shot it instantly occurred to me that armed with my charm and celebrity and his photo, it would be easy to get someone to swear that Jamie was in the store on Tuesday morning. Or not. Aren’t I the most clever star in Hollywood?” Polly beamed.
“Not so clever, if you’re late for rehearsals,” Tim said. “We don’t have time to run around showing mug shots today.”
Polly heaved a sigh. She leaned forward toward the driver’s seat. “Hand me the phone,” she said and once again forced it into Placenta’s hands. “Gerold. You know the drill. Infectiouschronicosis . But tell him I’ll drag myself onto the stage ASAP, ethical star that I am. That should buy us a couple of hours. Hell, I know the show backward and forward anyway.”
Placenta shook her head as she speed-dialed Gerold. “Mr. Goss?” she said when he answered his cell phone. “This is Placenta calling for Miss Polly Pepper. It’s not pretty….”
The long line at the counter inside the Starbucks store on Brand Avenue across the street from the Galaxy Theatre was crowded with office workers desperate for their first infusion of caffeine of the day. Tables scattered about the room were filled with wannabe writers at their notebook computers and unemployed or self-employed people killing time. When Polly and her crew walked into the shop they were in line for only a moment before she was recognized.
“You’re that lady on the banners!” said a man who was wearing the uniform of a gas station mechanic. In a louder voice he said, “I seen youse on the tay-vay.”
Suddenly everyone in the store was staring at Polly. Even those who were too young to remember her career understood that someone famous was in the café. Once she had been pointed out, the older customers instantly recognized Polly and began telling her about particular episodes of her old show that they remembered most fondly. Polly was delighted for an opportunity to play the humble legend, and she did so with ease and mastery. “Stars are people too,” she giggled. “We have to have our java just the same as any ordinary garden variety mortal.”
Suddenly a voice called from the front of the line, “Miss Pepper, I’ll help you over here.” A tall woman behind the counter waved her over.
“No, these lovely people were here first,” she said, and was immediately accosted by the entire line insisting that she go before anyone else. Polly forced a blush. “I’ll wager that La Streisand isn’t treated this well! You really don’t mind? I am rather in a hurry to get to a rehearsal. Oh, I’m starring in Mame at the Galaxy. Please do come and see me! I guarantee I’ll be fabulous in the show! I’ve done the role dozens of times, so I won’t disappoint you. As if I could.
“You’re a doll,” Polly said when she reached the barista who was wearing a green smock and holding a paper cup and a black Sharpie in her hands. “So many options! I’m an old-fashioned plain black coffee girl, and I don’t want to tie up the line, so
Polly took back the picture and studied the head shot. She read his other theater credits. “Perhaps the director found him hot in bed, but too limp onstage. That could be a motive for murder.”
“People have killed for less,” Placenta said.
“Sharon said they couldn’t cast that role for the longest time,” Polly said. “Perhaps Jamie was expecting that they’d eventually see that the right actor for the part was in their midst. When Karen ultimately said no, Jamie went ballistic and bashed her head in. Just a thought.”
“So, what’s this plan you said you have?” Placenta asked.
“It’s brilliant. I was trying to think of a way to refute Jamie’s story about being at Starbucks. The best way to get to the truth would be to ask the baristas who were on duty. When I saw his head shot it instantly occurred to me that armed with my charm and celebrity and his photo, it would be easy to get someone to swear that Jamie was in the store on Tuesday morning. Or not. Aren’t I the most clever star in Hollywood?” Polly beamed.
“Not so clever, if you’re late for rehearsals,” Tim said. “We don’t have time to run around showing mug shots today.”
Polly heaved a sigh. She leaned forward toward the driver’s seat. “Hand me the phone,” she said and once again forced it into Placenta’s hands. “Gerold. You know the drill. Infectiouschronicosis . But tell him I’ll drag myself onto the stage ASAP, ethical star that I am. That should buy us a couple of hours. Hell, I know the show backward and forward anyway.”
Placenta shook her head as she speed-dialed Gerold. “Mr. Goss?” she said when he answered his cell phone. “This is Placenta calling for Miss Polly Pepper. It’s not pretty….”
The long line at the counter inside the Starbucks store on Brand Avenue across the street from the Galaxy Theatre was crowded with office workers desperate for their first infusion of caffeine of the day. Tables scattered about the room were filled with wannabe writers at their notebook computers and unemployed or self-employed people killing time. When Polly and her crew walked into the shop they were in line for only a moment before she was recognized.
“You’re that lady on the banners!” said a man who was wearing the uniform of a gas station mechanic. In a louder voice he said, “I seen youse on the tay-vay.”
Suddenly everyone in the store was staring at Polly. Even those who were too young to remember her career understood that someone famous was in the café. Once she had been pointed out, the older customers instantly recognized Polly and began telling her about particular episodes of her old show that they remembered most fondly. Polly was delighted for an opportunity to play the humble legend, and she did so with ease and mastery. “Stars are people too,” she giggled. “We have to have our java just the same as any ordinary garden variety mortal.”
Suddenly a voice called from the front of the line, “Miss Pepper, I’ll help you over here.” A tall woman behind the counter waved her over.
“No, these lovely people were here first,” she said, and was immediately accosted by the entire line insisting that she go before anyone else. Polly forced a blush. “I’ll wager that La Streisand isn’t treated this well! You really don’t mind? I am rather in a hurry to get to a rehearsal. Oh, I’m starring in Mame at the Galaxy. Please do come and see me! I guarantee I’ll be fabulous in the show! I’ve done the role dozens of times, so I won’t disappoint you. As if I could.
“You’re a doll,” Polly said when she reached the barista who was wearing a green smock and holding a paper cup and a black Sharpie in her hands. “So many options! I’m an old-fashioned plain black coffee girl, and I don’t want to tie up the line, so
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