“He did it because he could,” Mrs. Goldman answered before Stella could. “He came up from nothing and when he became successful he was like a small boy in a candy store. He was always trying to see what his money could buy next—seaplane, racing car, Paris apartment . . . he’s tried them all. And look where it got him. I always warned him, but he never listened to anyone. Thirteen at dinner tonight, you know.”

“I take it you’re the widow,” Sheriff Billings said.

“I am.” She gave him a hostile stare. “I never thought I’d hear that word applied to myself. I believed he was immortal.”

“And since my men aren’t here yet, I’d like to get started on the questions. I don’t suppose you want to be here all night any more than I do.” He pulled up a straight-backed wooden chair. “Now, you just said you were thirteen at dinner. I see twelve of you in the room right now so I guess you were all there. And Mr. Goldman was alive and well then?”

“He was,” Mrs. Goldman said. “After dinner he wanted to smoke one of his disgusting cigars and I told him he’d have to do it where I couldn’t smell the smoke. So he said he’d go to the library and most of the men went with him.”

“Who didn’t?”

“I didn’t,” Charlie said. “I’m not keen on cigars and I wanted to get to know this fascinating young lady better. It’s so rare to find someone regal and virginal in Hollywood. You can’t blame me for being intrigued.”

“And your name, miss?” The sheriff licked his pencil.

I thought this might be a good time to make the sheriff aware of my rank. “I’m Lady Georgiana Rannoch,” I said. “I’m here with my mother who was about to shoot a film with Mr. Goldman.”

“What’s more she’s a cousin of the king of England,” my mother added.

“English royalty, huh?” He looked rather impressed, which was gratifying. I decided to go on. “And this is my good friend Belinda Warburton-Stoke, and my young man, the honorable Darcy O’Mara. Both English aristocrats.”

“And they came out here with you?”

“They just popped in to see me,” I said sweetly. “But Mr. Goldman was rather struck with Mr. O’Mara’s looks and wanted to use him in his picture.”

Even as I said the words they sank in. There wouldn’t be a picture now. Darcy was in no danger of becoming a film star. I felt terribly relieved.

I watched the sheriff scrutinizing first Belinda and then Darcy. Then his gaze fell on Juan, who was still huddled in his blanket, looking miserable.

“And you’re one of the hired help? What happened—did you fall in the pool?”