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forgotten entirely about the Cinderella Murder by now. But every once in a while, usually after Parker released a new film or got nominated for another award, someone would mention the onetime scandal in the director’s younger life.
    “The victim’s name was Susan Dempsey,” Laurie began. “Byevery account, she was a remarkable girl: smart, attractive, talented, hardworking.”
    He waved his hand for her to get on with it. “We’re not handing out medals. Why is this good TV?” Brett asked.
    Laurie knew Brett Young would never understand her determination to help Susan’s mother. Instead, she enthusiastically recited all of the features that made the case so appealing to Grace and Jerry. “First of all, it’s a terrific setting. You’ve got the UCLA campus. The glitz of Hollywood. The noir of Mulholland Drive.”
    It was clear that Brett was now listening carefully. “You said the right word: ‘Hollywood.’ Celebrities. Fame. That’s why people would care about that case. Wasn’t she found near Parker’s house?”
    Laurie nodded. “Within walking distance, in Laurel Canyon Park. He says she never showed up for the audition. Her car was found parked on campus. Police never determined how she got from UCLA to the hills.”
    “Parker knew she was a student. If her car was at Parker’s house, and he had anything to do with it, he could have arranged to move it back on campus,” Brett observed slowly.
    Laurie raised her eyes. “Brett, if I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re beginning to sound interested.”
    “Will Parker participate?”
    “I don’t know yet. I’ve got Susan’s mother on board, though, and that will make a difference. She’s motivated. She’ll convince Susan’s friends to talk on air.”
    “Friends, schmends. Family and friends won’t get people to set their DVRs. An Academy Award–nominated director will. And get that actress, the one who landed the role.”
    “Madison Meyer,” Laurie reminded him. “People forget that in addition to getting the role Susan was auditioning for, she was also one of Susan’s roommates.”
    According to Frank Parker, when Susan failed to appear forthe audition, he called Madison Meyer, another student from the UCLA theater department, and invited her to audition at the last minute. When questioned by police, Madison vouched for Parker’s timeline, saying she was with him in his living room at the time of Susan’s death.
    “Pretty strange he just happened to give the role to a novice actress who provided him a convenient alibi,” Brett said, rubbing his chin, a sure sign that he was on board.
    “This is a good case for the show, Brett. I feel it. I know it.”
    “You know I love you, Laurie, but your gut’s not enough. Not with this kind of money at stake. Your show ain’t cheap. The Cinderella Murder is just another cold case without Frank Parker. You lock him down for the show, and I’ll give you the all-clear. Without him, I have a surefire backup.”
    “Don’t tell me: the child pageant queen?”
    “You said it. Not me.”
    No pressure, Laurie thought.

9

    F rank Parker looked down at Madison Square Park from fifty-nine stories above. He loved New York City. Here, looking north out of the floor-to-ceiling windows of his penthouse apartment, he could see all the way to the top of Central Park. He felt like Batman watching over Gotham.
    “I’m sorry, Frank, but you made me promise to nudge you about some of those to-do items before the day ended.”
    He turned to find his assistant, Clarence, standing in the entryway of the den. Clarence was well into his thirties but still had the body of a twenty-year-old gym rat. His clothing selections—today a fitted black sweater and impossibly slim slacks—were obviously intended to highlight the muscles he was so proud of. When Parker hired him, Clarence had volunteered that he hated his name, but everyone who heard it remembered him because of his god-awful moniker. So it worked