A Talent for Murder by R.T. Jordan Read Free Book Online

enough, I’m secretly taping his phone calls and keeping track of all the personal stuff he or she is charging to whatever production they’re working on. When the time is right, I show him the evidence and demand to star in his next flick. He agrees because he doesn’t want the world to know that the guy who makes fuzzy family films is subhuman scum.”
    Steven Benjamin nodded in agreement. “Ah yes! Nothing says Hollywood like blackmail and extortion!” He then opened a third envelope. “Thane, you get to see how far Miranda will go!”
    Thane smiled evilly. “Hypothetically, you’ve beenhanging around Hollywood for years. You’ve never achieved anything because you haven’t got an ounce of talent, and you have a reputation for a nasty disposition. Finally you’re packing your bags and heading back to Nowhere, U.S.A. But a friend tells you that an old director, some hideously ancient man who used to be important, will try to open doors for you in exchange for sleeping with him three times a week for a year. Would you trade sex for fame?”
    “The barter system is as much a part of Hollywood as power lunches at The Ivy,” she snapped. “You should know that better than most. When a girl’s got these”— she put her hands on her breasts—”she can get a lot of old men to do nice things for her. There’s only one old man in town who I wouldn’t sleep with. His name is Thane Cornwall. I hear he’s a snore in bed.”
    The audience roared with approval.
    Steven Benjamin smiled. “Polly! It’s your turn again.” He opened another envelope and withdrew a card. “Socorro!”
    Polly looked at the young Latina. “Complete this sentence. ‘I’ll Do Anything to Become Famous because—’ “
    “Because fame equals money, and money
can
buy happiness,” Socorro quickly said. “When I win this competition, I’ll be able to buy my mama a big house.”
    Polly’s heart melted. “I’m sure that your mama’s already very proud of you. And you’re right, money does buy happiness. I have a lot of both.”
    With one contestant left to interview, Steven Benjamin called on Thane to pose a question to Ped-Xing.
    Thane folded his arms across his chest and tilted his head from side to side, as if inspecting Ped-Xing. “This show is about doing some ultimate act in order to become famous. Since we, the judges, probably hold yourfate in our hands, which of us would you kill to win the competition?”
    A collective roar from the audience erupted. They exhibited the same lust for blood that made jousting tournaments popular during medieval times, or attracted huge crowds to gladiator fights in ancient Rome, and created a media frenzy over movie stars on trial for killing their spouses.
    “Go on,” Thane baited Ped-Xing. “You can do it. And I think everybody here is confident about who you’d pick. And guess what, it
would
indeed make you famous.”
    Ped-Xing stood facing Thane Cornwall, his upper lip twitching, his fists clenched at his side.
    The judges, as well as the studio audience, held a collective breath. Finally, Ped-Xing spoke: “Polly Pepper.”

Chapter 4
    W hen Polly’s Rolls-Royce drove up to her PP-monogrammed iron gates at Pepper Plantation, Detective Randy Archer was already in the cobblestone car park waiting for her. Rolling down to the front portico, Tim eased the car to a stop by the front steps. Randy opened the rear passenger door of her car and offered his hand, first to Polly, then to Placenta. “That hip-hop dweeb threatened to kill you!” he said as Polly stepped out of the car.
    “Isn’t live television exciting?” Polly said as she gave Randy a quick kiss on the lips. “You’re a dear for tuning in. Ach! I’ve had threats before. Nell Carter said the same thing when I deservedly won the Emmy the year that our musical variety specials were both nominated. Nell, bless her departed soul, couldn’t face the fact that the Academy unanimously selected my superior
PP with Elton