Read Online If Dying Was All by Ron Goulart - Free Book Online Page A

problem, but a cemetery is a tough thing to sell visually, on television,” explained the bald young man. “I can’t come right into your living room and sock you between the eyes with a shot of some poor schmuck being dropped into a grave. No, I’ve got to work some magic, romance the idea. We’ve got more old people in LA than probably anywhere in the country, so there’s a fat market for burials. I’ve got to make that audience prefer Peaceable Kingdom #2, demand it. It’s trickier than making some boob think of my brand of tuna when he’s roaming around the supermarket. No, I’ve got to make the consumer practically ask for Peaceable Kingdom #2 with his dying breath.” He smiled and nodded at the young actors up the hill. “Everybody likes kids. Put them in a cemetery, show them enjoying themselves. What’s more alive than kids? Thousands of little old ladies are going to think Peaceable Kingdom #2 is a nice place.” He lifted the glasses and rubbed at his eyes again. “I’ve only got one real worry.”
    “Which is?”
    “Earthquakes,” said Segal. “The last big earthquake and part of the hill over there fell down into the ocean. People get funny ideas. They don’t want to be buried someplace where they think an earthquake will come along and dump them in the ocean.” He touched the crystal of his wristwatch without looking at it. “I’m sure you didn’t come out here to talk shop with me.”
    Easy seated himself on the curb near Segal. “You knew Jackie McCleary.”
    “Yes, very well.” Segal pointed toward the just visible ocean. “I was thinking about her this morning, what with your secretary’s call. Yes, right down there we all used to hang out. Only five years ago. If she’d lived, maybe I’d be hiring her to do a commercial for me. She wanted to act. We all promised each other we’d give all the others jobs when we made it. Kid stuff.”
    “You have no doubt about her being dead?”
    Segal frowned. “No. Should I?”
    “You weren’t on the yacht trip, though.”
    “No, I couldn’t go,” said Segal. “Many times since I wish I had. I was pretty close to Jackie. She might have talked to me before she tried anything.”
    “Why did she kill herself?”
    “You must have read a copy of the note she left behind.”
    “She said she was tired of life. Not too specific.”
    Segal exhaled and set his clipboard on the grass. “Well, I think mostly it was that damn father of hers. He pressured her a lot, confused her. She was an only child and she grew up feeling anything she wanted to do was somehow wrong.”
    Easy asked, “Was there something particular she wanted to do then, something McCleary tried to stop?”
    “Not that I know. Why?”
    Easy said, “What about Booth Graither?”
    “Graither? The guy they found the other day out on San Obito?”
    Easy showed Segal the photo of the San Amaro gang. “There he is next to Jackie.”
    Segal flipped up his glasses and squinted at the picture. “Hey, look at the hair I had then.” He stroked his bare scalp. “In only five years it went. Everybody in my family is like that, even one of my aunts went bald. Graither? Yeah, I remember him.”
    “What was his relationship with Jackie?”
    “I suppose she was dating him,” said Segal. “Jackie was sort of promiscuous, in a way. Girls with fathers like hers often are. I ought to know, I had a wife like that for nearly two years. I suppose she was dating him in a casual way.” He shook his head several times. “Easy, I doubt she’d spend too much time with an embezzler and a jewel thief like Graither.”
    “Embezzler and jewel thief?”
    “Isn’t that what Graither was, more or less? According to the Times. ”
    “More or less,” said Easy. “Someone has written to Frederic McCleary. Someone claiming to be Jackie.”
    “What the hell for?”
    “I’m trying to find that out. Has anyone been in touch with you?”
    “No. I don’t keep up with the old gang much at all.