Part One

THE “MARY SMITH” MURDERS

Chapter 3

To: agriner@latimes.comFrom: Mary SmithArnold Griner squeezed his small, squinty eyes shut, put his hands over hispractically hairless skull, and scrubbed his scalp hard. Oh, God save me, not another one,he was thinking. Life is to short for this shit. I can't take it. I really can't take this MarySmith deal.

The L.A. Times newsroom buzzed around him as if it were any other morning:phones jangling; people coming and going like indoor race walkers; someone nearbypontificating about the new fall TV lineup - as if anybody cared about the TV lineupthese days.

How could Griner feel so vulnerable sitting at his own desk, in his cubicle office,in the middle of all this? But he did.

The Xanax he'd been popping since the first Mary Smith e-mail a week ago didabsolutely nothing to hold back the spike of panic that shot through him like the needleused in a spinal tap.

Panic - but also morbid curiosity.

Maybe he was “just” an entertainment columnist, but Arnold Griner knew a hugenews story when he saw one. A blockbuster that would dominate the front page forweeks. Some one rich and famous had just been murdered in L.A. he didn't even have toread the e-mail to know that much. “Mary Smith” had already proved herself to be onesick lady and true to her word.

The questions attacking his brain were who had been killed this time? And whatthe hell was he, Griner, doing in the middle of this awful mess?

Why me of all people? There has to be a good reason, and if I knew it, then I'dreally be freaking, wouldn't I?