MYSTERY MOON ~ EPISODE #3
Sheriff Biscaluz, Santa Barbara County, wrinkled his nose and squinted his eyes. “Okay, Mr. Kemp could you slow it down a bit? I have a secretary on the line that is going to take down your call.” He hated to get a call like this from one of the counties prominent citizens. “So Mrs. Kemp has been missing two weeks? Why the delay in reporting it? I see. I think I better come out to your place. Do you mind if I bring a couple of deputies to kind of scout out the layout of your property? Good, see you in about an hour.”\
Hub hung up the phone and turned back to Lloyd Val.
“Well?”
“Biscaluz is coming out with a couple of deputies,” Hub said.
“Why?”
“He didn’t say.”
“I thought he might refer you to some missing persons department,” Lloyd Val said.
“I don’t know if they have one. Do you think he’s going to arrest me?”
“No. You’re a prominent citizen. I think he’s just trying to cover his butt.”
“Good grief I hope so. Why do I feel so damn guilty?”
“I don’t know but I wish you’d practice looking innocent before the sheriff gets here,” Lloyd Val said.
Hub grinned. “Maybe we should have a little lunch while I’m practicing.”
“Good idea,” Lloyd Val said.

The Sheriff was a tall, swarthy man, easily identified as of Hispanic decent. “Thank you, Mr. Kemp, for your precise description of what lead up to Mrs. Kemp’s disappearance. Now, with your permission, I would like for my men to give the place a preliminary check.”
“Does this mean I’m under some kind of suspicion?” Hub asked.
“It’s just routine, Mr. Kemp. We have no evidence of a crime and not even a suspicion of one. As yet, all we know is that Mrs. Kemp is missing. There could be a hundred reasons for that, none of which may point to a crime. What’s your acreage here?” the Sheriff asked.
“Let me see. We have forty acres of Valences and ten of Navels. If you continue up the driveway past the house, you come to the crest of the hill where we maintain a park for public use. We have a baseball field, camping, boating on a small lake, hiking and riding trails. Back of that is about a 20 acre grove of oaks. We post a policy of no firearms and no hunting,” Hub said.
“Out buildings?”
“Sure. We have a large barn across the home vegetable garden in back, a small stable and chorale, and a building that contains a shop, a water pump, tool shed, and a three car garage. There is a general storage building next to that,” Hub said.
“How many employees do you have and which ones live on the premises?” the Sheriff asked.
“Jose and his wife, Rosa, is here about everyday but they live in town. My friend Lloyd Val Halo itch is visiting. I am thinking of asking my brother Jess, and his wife to move here from Tennessee.”
“Where do you live Mr. Halo itch?”
“Hollywood. I’m Hub’s friend but I’m also his agent,” Lloyd Val said.
“Agent?”
“I used to perform in films,” Hub said.
Sheriff Biscaluz stood up. “I think we have enough basic information. If it’s okay, my men and I will conduct the preliminary examinations of the grounds.”
“Certainly. I will have Jose accompany you. He can answer any specific questions you may have,” Hub said. “I forgot to mention I do have a small airplane and an air strip just past the barn.”
“Where do you keep the plane?” The Sheriff asked.
“In the barn with my cars. As I said the Model T coup is missing,” Hub said.

After the Sheriff left the house, Hub turned to Lloyd Val. “What did you think?”
“His questions didn’t seem to indicate anything he was especially interested in, not you for example,” Lloyd Val said.
“I would hope he doesn’t think I murdered my wife. I feel we will find she just took off because she was upset with me. She’s done it before.” Hub said.
“But not this long,” Lloyd Val said.
“No. That’s the puzzling part,” Hub said. “I’m just wondering if I shouldn’t have looked around the place before the Sheriff decided to.”
“To what purpose? Hide incriminating things?” Lloyd Val asked.
“For Pete’s sake you think I need to hide evidence?”
“Of course not but if detectives discovered you did that, how do you suppose they would feel about it?”
“Um. I see what you mean. I t might have aroused the very suspcttion I was trying to avoid.”
“Exactly.”

Bubba's Guide to Proper Etiquette

Don't pick your nose while others are eating.

Mystery Moon - Episode 2

Hubert Urbane Kemp sat on a park bench gazing out across the ocean to a channel island. He was confused, unhappy and unable to think straight. Should he phone the Sheriff? His wife, Opal, had been gone two weeks now. She hadn’t left a note, hadn’t phoned. The model T was missing. She had left like this before but she had always phoned, usually from her parents place in Orange county. She did this when she got mad at Hub and preferred leaving rather than hanging around and having a big argument. She explained to him once that her dad didn’t like to argue and when he had a spat with Mom Morrow he got in the car and drove around a while until he cooled off. Hub thought this was foolish but this was the first time she had taken more than a day or two. Hub, when he got mad or wanted to be alone walked down from the house, through the orange grove, to the tiny park, next to the water. It was the place where he and Opal often walked down to watch the sunset. It was a beautiful spot with a long vista of the shoreline of Santa Barbara county. Hub found he could never contemplate that sight for long without putting himself in a better mood. But this time it wasn’t working. Earlier that morning he phoned the Morrows, Opal’s parents. They became extremely agitated and the whole thing ended up in a shouting match before he hung up. Hub was surprised that they felt the whole thing was his fault. Now he was reluctant to phone the sheriff. Didn’t the police always suspect the husband if they suspected foul play? Why in the hell had he waited two weeks before phoning?

Hub trudged back up the hill to his house. Rosa met him at the back door.
“Your amigo, Valhallo bitch.called. Wants a back call.”
Hub pushed the screen door open and entered. “Thanks, Rosa.” Jose’s woman, Rosa, helped take care of the house when Opal was absent. “Where is Jose working today?”
“He has a job in Buena Mesa. He gonna be here after lunch,” Rosa said.
“Good.” Hub sat down at the kitchen table “This the phone number?” Hub held up a scrap of paper he found next to the phone.
Rosa nodded and Hub dialed the number.
“Lloyd Val Halovitch agency..”
“Mert, this is Hub, Is Lloyd Val in?”
“Oh, yes, Mr. Kemp. Just a min, he’s on another line. Okay, here he is.”
“Hello, Hub,” Lloyd Val said.
“I am so glad you called, Lloyd.” Hub related to Lloyd Val all the particulars of his peculiar situation. “I’ve been in a real mope. Kind of wondering what I should do next,” Hub said.
“Okay, friend. Hang on and don’t do anything. As soon as I’ve phoned my lawyer, I’ll hop in my car and be at your place in couple of hours, “ Lloyd Val said.
“Thanks.”
As promised, Lloyd Val Halovitch arrived at the moon grove close to noon. He drove the Hudson Hornet up the gravel driveway and parked in front of Hub’s house. Hub was sitting on the front porch. When Lloyd Val got out of the auto, Hub stood up.
“Come on up, Lloyd Val, “ Hub called. “Set a spell.”
Lloyd Val climbed the stairs and took Hub’s proffered hand. “Good to see you, old friend. Sorry the circumstances aren’t better.”
“Having a friend like you coming to my aid so quickly has lifted my spirits, ‘ Hub said. “Have a seat and I’ll give you the gruesome details.”
Hub explained again Opal’s mysterious disappearance. “I haven’t heard from her for two weeks and her folks haven’t either.”
“Okay, Hub, you should have reported this sooner,” Lloyd Val said. “I spoke to my lawyer before I came here. It is his opinion you need to report it to the authorities right a way.”
“Aren’t they going to expect I had something to do with it?” Hub asked.
“Of course, without evidence to the contrary, the husband’s always the prime suspect,” Lloyd said.

Mystery Moon

The Great Depression descended on an unsuspecting world like the hand of God. The prosperity of the twenties folded. The New York Stock Exchange bloated with the exaggerated optimism of the stock gurus plunged into financial Hell. Within a year, banks and businesses were destroyed in droves. Unemployment followed. Fear spread through the land. Civil unrest lurked in city slums. The seeds of revolution started to sprout. Something was wrong with the government. Changes were needed. The poor began to starve.
Lloyd Val Halovitch sat in his office on Hollywood Blvd., feet on his desk contemplating out his window the scene below. He worried about the sudden transition from silent pictures to talkies. Why in the hell are so many of my clients unable to make the switch? He ran his hand through his thinning hair and almost dropped his horn-rim glasses. He rested his elbow on the desk an held his head in one hand. What was wrong with them. He knew the answers the directors gave him. Art Manfred had a German accent you could cut with a strudel. Rita Conchita couldn't remember the picture's title. Several couldn't perform without using the exaggerated gestures of the silent films. The directors were turning to stage actors who could speak lines and had a better sense of presence before the cameras.
Lloyd Val Halovitch took up the latest edition of Variety. He scanned the main story about Louie B. Mayer. "I ain't making no more damn pictures where they use feathers to write," the reporter quoted the great man as saying. Turning the page Lloyd Val spotted an ad in the lower corner. Golden State Pictures was casting another war story and needed experienced stunt pilots.
Lloyd Val grimaced. Hub Kemp was at one time was one of his best clients before Golden State fired him. I wonder, is this a message I need to heed? He pulled his appointment book out of his desk and scanned his list of clients.
"What am I thinking?" Lloyd said aloud. "Hub found some kind of treasure near his hometown in Tennessee and could buy Golden State."
He shook his head and put the book back in the drawer. It was close to a year ago he made a trip to Buena Mesa. The summer of '29. The Moon Grove, Hub called his orange grove in Santa Barbara County. He nearly had Hub convinced to invest in his idea of making talkies, when Opal, his wife, put in her two-bits. She knocked the whole idea into a cocked hat. Val remembered he said some words to her he shouldn't have and Hub kicked him out.
He reached for the phone, then hesitated. "This is the summer of 1930," he said to himself.
"Mert, come in and bring your pad," Lloyd Val called. Mert had been with him for ten years, ever since her husband had died in an auto accident and left her with two kids. He knew he should fire her but he didn't have the heart.
"Yes boss?" Mert said. These days she always looks anxious, reflected Lloyd Val.
"I need to write a letter to an old client, Hub Kemp,Lloyd Val said.
"I remember him, a real keen guy," Mert said.
Good grief, thought Lloyd Val, she looks frayed around the edges, a frizzy blond.
"Yeah, one of those good-looking aviator types," Lloyd said.
"Didn't he get hold of a lot of filthy lucre?" Mert asked.
-to be continued...