Don Scribner’s Blog Actor, Screenwriter, Songwriter, Singer

I couldn’t afford the time to become emotional…

He hung up as I had an inaudible “Goodbye.”  The depth of love and sadness seemed equally powerful, however I couldn’t afford the time to become emotional.  That would have to wait.

I thought about contacting Whitey and Sam and tell them they’re wasting their time with Robbie, but I also wanted him to squirm.  If I couldn’t find more about Allie then I would call and immediately began searching for information about Stanford Cosmetics.  Bingo!  Pages of links!  I then added + family.  Another bingo, so I clicked on the top listing and then images. I couldn’t locate Allie, so I tried another approach, daughter.

The world of information at my finger tips.  There it was… the entire family tree.  It seems that Allie’s mother kept her maiden name Stanford (possibly because of the business), but the daughter, a step-child kept her father’s name Muro… Alvina Muro.  I clicked on images again and there she was… Allie.

It was time to call Whitey and Sam.  I did.  Whitey was beginning to tell me about the rest of the Robbie interview, but I cut him off.  “I think I know who killed her.  Can you put this on speaker so I don’t have to repeat it to Sam.?”

“You’re on and Sam’s right here.”

“Her name is Alvina Muro and a daughter of the Stanford Cosmetics fortune.”  With the exception of writing and paper movement, there was near silence as I spoke. Obviously they were taking notes.  I also had my phone on speaker.  “I’m making a copy of a picture of her from the computer.  There.  I’m sending it now, but I imagine you’re already looking her up.  She’s one of the last names from Barbara Jean and Tuffy.”  I loved saying his name, but preferred it to be under different circumstances.  “I think she may have killed Maxine Cooper in Philadelphia.  Maxine was the girl I left for Teri and was a close friend of Allie’s, or so I thought.”

They asked me to come down to the station, but I wanted to check on Missey again and suggested that they contact Melanie.  I heard Sam say, “Hum, his M & M’s.”  I knew he meant it with respect nonetheless it hit me.  If they were in peril it was because of me.  They agreed and I said I’d call after checking on Missey.  I hung up as I began my walk back to her place and words of a poem, Sweet Peril by George Mac Donald entered my head.  Alas, how easily things go wrong!   A sigh too much, or a kiss too long, and there follows a mist and a weeping rain, and life is never the same again.

This time my travel to Missey’s was not physical multi-tasking, but thinking.  George Mac Donald probably influenced Mark Twain, and unfortunately I thought I had somehow influenced Allie.  I remember my parents telling me not to hang around a certain kid that he was a bad influence.  They were right, but I made my own choices.  And, I may have affected Allie in a negative way by breaking up with her friend Maxine, but I refused to be her influence on death.

Missey’s light was on and it looked soft and romantic through her curtain and I hated to call and penetrate it with fear.  That’s what it would be if I told her she may be a target.

Goodbye Mr. Saltz

Regardless of the heavy vibe I was experiencing I Googled Holen and came up with his own web site.  He was indeed a legitimate writer.  His image was on the page and I did remember meeting him.  Fortunately there was a contact number and without hesitation I called.   He picked up on the first ring and I reintroduced myself.

“I remember who you are.  Maxine had a true love for you and that made me think you couldn’t be too bad.  And, you helped me out with a reading one night.  I thank you again for that.  Incidentally, that script sold.  They plan to begin filming in about six months.”

My patience for small talk was nonexistent.  “Congratulations Richard.  And, on the sad side I am so sorry to hear about Maxine.  I just found out.”  We talked about that for a moment more until I got to the point of the call.  “Do you remember a woman Allie?”

“I remember Allie, although I haven’t seen her for years.  I don’t know if I ever knew her last name, but her mother name was Stanford… big time in cosmetics.    I hope that helps you somehow.  Allie was a good friend of Maxine’s when I knew her, but she may not even be aware of her death.  She wasn’t at the funeral. People lose contact… especially here.  You move away from LA and it’s like you drop off the edge of the world.”  His depth of emotion came forward.  “I would have done anything for her, but it wasn’t in the cards for me.  She moved back home to forget you.  I don’t think she ever did.  I’m sorry, but I miss her terribly.  Goodbye Mr. Saltz.”

Harley broke her heart

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Thinking back I realized that I hadn’t talked to Maxine since we broke up years ago, at the time of Teri.  And I only saw her once after that, walking out of the Trader Joe’s in Studio City and probably close to five years now.  I can’t contact her friends because I only remember a couple and only by first name.  She was a graduate of Penn State.  I could start there, but how?  I had to call Whitey, but I didn’t.  This was something I wanted to search out.  I opened up my photo program on the computer and began looking for her pictures.  Damn, I didn’t have any.  Maxine is the one who took them.  I didn’t have a camera until Teri.

My phone rang… Whitey.  “Check your email another picture from Barbara Jean.  I had her send you a copy also.”

I had Whitey hold while I opened the attachment.  “Nope.  Don’t recognize her.”

“Yeah, figures.  You know, this Barbara Jean had pictures of every guy, but for some reason she can’t find one of the last two women.”

“I can understand that.  She wasn’t as interested in them.”

“Your little buddy is not involved in this other than the B & E and theft on you and the possibility of coordinating an arranged marriage.  Not that that matters much with immigration today, but it pisses me off… Sam too.  In fact, he’s got him a little scared right now telling him he’s being pressured to send any information down to Immigration.  It’s almost worth the time to watch him squirm.  We got him ‘off the record’ right now and his yapper is yapping.  Got to get back.”  He hung up before I could respond.

I immediately Googled Maxine Dawn Cooper + Penn State.  Nothing.

Wait a minute, she’s still in my computer on my address list.  How quickly we forget.  There she was… email, phone number, and address of her mom and dad in Haverford, Pennsylvania.  She gave me all the information when she went home on a vacation.  I had forgotten.

Her local 818 number now belonged to a guy said he had it for over three years.  I then sent her an email that was returned within minutes as an invalid account.  My least desire was to call her parents, but I did.  And, I wish the resulting conversation could have been different.  I introduced myself and her father said he knew who I was, that I had dated Max and broke her heart.  He asked me why I was calling now.  His delivery was impassive.  I told him I was trying to locate her friend Allie.  He said he never heard of Allie.  That surprised me.  I thought Allie was Maxine’s closest friend.

It sounded as though Mr. Cooper was tiring of the conversation so I stressed how vital it was to locate Allie and asked him for Maxine’s new telephone number.  His response shocked me.  “Mr. Saltz, someone took our dear Max from us a year ago this week.”

“I’m so sorry.  I had no idea.”

He proceeded to tell me that Maxine had been living at home for over two years and had recently moved to Philadelphia and had just returned to her new apartment after a  concert.  She was murdered and robbed… shot with a 38.  “Police found very little except the lodged bullet.  Her credit cards were never used, and nothing ever showed up.  They say the investigation is still active, but she’s a cold case now.  A thing like that can tear a family apart Mr. Saltz.  Now why is it you called?”

It didn’t seem right to tell him my suspicions about Allie… just that I needed to contact her.  Again I gave him my sympathy, but before I could add good-bye he added:  “Max had a writer friend Richard, Richard Holen.  He lives out there.  He came to the funeral.  He might know this Allie person.  Hope that helps.”  He hung up and the aura of my apartment was anything but romantic.  It felt damp and uneasy.

Fear struck in the form of energy.

“He didn’t say it was him and we can’t prove it.  But, I’ll bet my ass on it.  I don’t know if he’s rubbing that in our faces or what, but I’ll tell you this… it comes back to you buddy boy just like I felt.  And, she married him for the money.  Sam is working on tying Robbie into that.  He was and still is their attorney and I’ll bet my ass again that he was aware of the arranged marriage.  Which, by the way, Sam says happens every day.”

“What if the marriage has nothing to do her murder?”

“It may not, but it has to be looked at.  Jealousy… what if the husband had a boyfriend?  What if she did?”

Whitey was thinking in possibilities and yet the stream of car lights on Ventura told me that it wasn’t about her marriage.  “Have you heard back from Tuffy and Barbara Jean?”

“Well that’s the second thing I wanted to fill you in on… three more names and hopefully the pictures will follow.  Darcy Ubank, Alvina Muro and Patsy Stewart.  Ring a bell?”

“No.  Nothing.”

“She couldn’t locate pictures yet, but as soon as they come in I’ll call.  We’ll need you to look at them.”  I was still staring at the traffic.  “So, where are you, by Angel Eyes?”  I emitted a small humph.  “You’re wondering how I knew.  It’s the traffic.  Where else would you be?”

“Yeah, I walked the area.  Saw a person in black and ended up scaring her… probably her dog, too.”

“You sure she wasn’t the one?”

“Couldn’t have been, she was black too.”

“I have to bring some coffee to Sam and your buddy Robbie.”  There was a deadening pause and I could sense a serious comment coming.  “Don’t forget to watch out for yourself Harley.”  He hung up without waiting for my response.

I went into my metaphysical thinker phase and stared blankly toward the traffic.   Thoughts and images immediately floated in.  The panties on my truck were first and disappeared by the snap and break of the antenna.  Then the cupboard opened and my hand caught a falling glass, a match in my door faded and a key appeared and etched a white car door then another and repeated the action going right into the gas cap which dissolved into a canvas of a nude man and woman embracing with a knife thrust between them.  That’s when I snapped out of it.  Shit!  It’s women and me.

Women and me brought me back into the moment and a memory of a friend who is working on his doctorate in math at Stanford.  It is the study of chaos.  He told me it was easier to figure chaotic behavior than women.

I hustled back to Jackie’s place and scoured the area once more.  Seeing nothing suspicious I jogged back to my apartment primarily for the exercise, relieved that I was at least was able to think in terms of multi-tasking.

After the short few minutes it took to get to my apartment my pulse was screaming and not because I was tired.  It was because of clarity.  I felt I knew the killer.  But, I was reluctant to tell Whitey or Sam until I was sure.

With the help of the railing I took the stairs three at a time, and was in my apartment without even being aware of opening the door.  I immediately grabbed my address book, located the number for Maxine, started to dial, but stopped.  What was I going to say?  If I didn’t compose myself I could sound like a nut case.  I actually took a deep breath and made a whooshing sound as I exhaled.  I quickly decided I’d just tell her what I thought and dialed.  Shit!  I got the proverbial apology message, “This number is no longer in use.  If you feel you reached this number in error please dial again.”  I did just that and reached the same message.  Shit!  Shit!  Shit!  Maxine… where are you?

Thinking back I realized that I hadn’t talked to Maxine since we broke up years ago, at the time of Teri.  And I believe I only saw her once after that, walking out of the Trader Joe’s in Studio City and that had to be close to five years now.  I can’t contact her friends because I only remember a couple and only by first name.  She was a graduate of Penn State.  I could start there.

Without the orbs of the optimist we must be content with drought

Suddenly I was extremely restless and took my thoughts on a walk toward Missey’s just to check out the area.  If Robbie was involved in Teri’s death it would be in the arena of hiring someone to do it.  Consequently, I was totally alert… almost to the point of expectation… of anything.  It was a heightened sense of awareness.  I then realized that I probably looked suspicious walking in my favorite shade of attire… black including the boots.

There were people meandering tonight.  Parking attendants were filling up the initial spaces on Carpenter Street… jumping out and running back.  A young couple, arm in arm, was walking down toward Ventura.  Another couple was walking up with their little yapper of a dog.  He tried to show me his superiority and I marginalized him by saying:  “Hi puppy.”  Guess it worked.  He stopped yapping.  It seemed like a longer walk tonight, but eventually I got to a point where I could see her place and someone else walking a dog and incidentally dressed in dark clothing.  I didn’t want to appear dangerous and lechy, but I had to walk faster to be able to maintain pace with the woman.   Everything about her was black including her dog.  Then she turned toward me, her eyes opened wide as if in fear.  She was black.  I quickly smiled, said:  “Hi, didn’t mean to scare you.”  She smiled back as I whisked by.

A few minutes later and with Ventura Boulevard in view, I stopped.  It was as if I had gained fresh eyes.  What was I thinking?  If this is all connected it’s not Robbie.  It was all in front of me just waiting to be seen.  I thought of what I had recently written.  “The orbs of the optimist… the seer… without that we have little… we must be content with drought.  But, fresh eyes watch the rainfall and see the blossoms of tomorrow.”

The sound of my phone shook away any thoughts.  It was Whitey.  “Robbie confessed.  Actually, he didn’t confess, he admitted guilt, but not to murder.  The son-of-a-bitch is a hell of a lot more than he appears.  Sam calls him the definition of slime.  We can’t touch his alibi and have nothing on him except theft and you aren’t pressing charges for that.”

I interrupted him.  “So, what did he admit guilt to?”

“Get this… he created a scenario.  What if the person that the old woman reportedly saw get in the car with Teri wasn’t the murderer….  It’s possible it could have been someone she knew and was having a disagreement with.  Perhaps that person was kicked out a few blocks later and Teri drove up to your place.”

“My place?”

“I asked the same question and he responded ‘Why not, she loved him.’ Although, he said that with a huff.”

Those words of love hit with impact and then hovered ever so gently.  “So who was the person she knew according to his scenario?”

“He didn’t say, but it was him.  I’ll bet my ass on it and we can’t prove it and he knows it.  I don’t know if he’s rubbing that in our faces or what, but I’ll tell you this… it comes back to you buddy boy just like I felt.  And, she married him for the money.  Sam’s working on tying him into that.  He was their attorney and still is.  He had to be aware of the arranged marriage.

Reality set in

Then reality set in.  Whitey is absolutely right.  I am involved in this somehow.  Someone could have been jealous that she gave me so much money.  Thoughts just started to swirl and I jumped up and let out a primal scream and tore into the heavy bag.  After about a minute I started to think about Robby and I stopped.

He was her attorney.  He had to know about this.  Was that a reason to kill her?  What’s going on here?  I had to call Sam and Whitey.  My thoughts were heavy and I seemed to move weakly over to my desk and phone.  I opened it and saw that I had a new voice mail.  I had forgotten I’d missed a call.  It was Missey.  ‘I didn’t want to dance with you when we first met.  I knew you want to make it too personal.  Now it is and I’m afraid.’

Oh my God, besides weakness, I now felt nervous and immediately told myself to just smile, be an adult and realize that there is now someone in my life I can worry about.  I hit the speed dial number two.  It went to her voice message and I realized it was late enough for her to be sleeping if she had an early day.  And, I have no idea of when her day actually begins.  I left her a message.  “Sorry if this awakens you, but I wanted you to know how happy I am.”  My urge was to add poetic loving innuendos but I didn’t.  “You can call me at any time… any time.  Goodnight.”

Two seconds later I’m speed dialing Whitey and told him the story.  His sounds of realization were mostly guttural.  “I always liked that broad.”

someone reached in and removed my reasoning…

My phone rang and I couldn’t answer it… matter of fact I couldn’t move. I was numb and felt like someone had reached in and removed my reasoning.  About a half hour passed before I stirred.  However, I was thinking… deeply about how her true goodness and love finally shone… ‘the good is oft interred with their bones’. Shakespeare at a moment like this… appropriate… timeless.  She was concerned about me… the headaches.  Where was she getting her information?  Oh God, her doctor friends, she has people of influence and information.  Fuck!  What if she got the results of my test somehow?  What if something really is wrong with me?  There isn’t.  If there was they would have called.  End of story…  I’ll call them tomorrow to verify.

Then reality set in.  Whitey is absolutely right.  I am involved in this somehow.  Someone could have been jealous that she gave me so much money.  Thoughts just started to swirl and I jumped up and let out a primal scream and tore into the heavy bag.

rewrite and a touch more

I slit slowly and carefully and pulled out a note card.  I opened it and a smaller envelope was inside that.  Alright, enough drama.  I began to read.

‘Little Babies before you open the small envelope take a deep breath then don’t freak.  It’s a little thank-you, for being you, as you would say.  I hope you came to the wedding Little Babies because it was really our day… you and me.  Thank you for taking care of me.  You were my Gift From the Sea Little Babies.  My love was permanent… it just wasn’t able to be possessed.  And I did love you from that first moment on.  We are apart but we have each other… don’t we?  I love you Little Babies.  Teri’

I slit open the smaller envelope… another card and a folded check.  I read the card.  ‘Don’t let your stupid pride interfere with this.  I KNOW you need surgery.  At least now you won’t have additional headaches trying to figure out how to pay for it.  You remember how you used to tell me it made you feel good to be able to take care of me.  Well, don’t take that away from me because this is one of the best feelings I’ve ever had.’

It was a cashier’s check for two hundred and fifty thousand dollars.

My phone rang and I couldn’t answer it… matter of fact I couldn’t move. I felt like someone had reached in and removed my reasoning.  I was numb.

more of the book

Crush his pants?  I decided not to ask.

I was home in minutes and did my routine… checked my email, etc.  While sitting at the desk I noticed Teri’s card and decided that now was the time to open it.  My stomach was nervous and I turned the opening into a process.  I located my little silver letter opener and put it into the corner of the envelope while looking at the color scheme of the apartment… her design… warm deep red, soft gold and striking white.  It didn’t help, but it did make me feel loss, which validated my queasy unsettled stomach.

I slit slowly and carefully and pulled out a note card.  I opened it and a smaller envelope was inside that.  Alright, enough drama.  I began to read.

‘Little Babies before you open the small envelope take a deep breath then don’t freak.  It’s a little thank-you, for being you as you would say.  I hope you came to the wedding Little Babies because it was really our day… you and me.  Thank you for taking care of me.  I love you Little Babies.  Teri.’