THE WIND BLOWS WHERE IT CHOOSES - Maxwell, Iris
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A powerful producer in Hollywood Sylvester Stevens, has drowned off his beach house in Malibu. Did he really drown? Or was it murder? The coroner is suspicious. And what about the elaborate cover up? If he was murdered, who killed him? His vindictive Beverly Hills wife, the wealthy daughter of the owner of Pyramid Pictures, where Stevens is feared by all? Or could it be the former actress wife, who he tried to cheat out of a twenty million dollar hawaiian property? Perhaps Carlos, the chauffeur, who is in love with his wife? Maybe, an aspiring actress he raped, or the lighting technician he…mehr

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Produktbeschreibung
A powerful producer in Hollywood Sylvester Stevens, has drowned off his beach house in Malibu. Did he really drown? Or was it murder? The coroner is suspicious. And what about the elaborate cover up? If he was murdered, who killed him? His vindictive Beverly Hills wife, the wealthy daughter of the owner of Pyramid Pictures, where Stevens is feared by all? Or could it be the former actress wife, who he tried to cheat out of a twenty million dollar hawaiian property? Perhaps Carlos, the chauffeur, who is in love with his wife? Maybe, an aspiring actress he raped, or the lighting technician he fired? Another suspect, the tour bus driver, Billy, who pleaded for his mother, shunned years before by Stevens? Or Cupcake Chase? Then, there's the astrologer to the stars? Did the powerful studio cover up a crime, controlling the Los Angeles Police Department? Does it go through the District Attorney all the way to the Governor of California? Homicide detective Visconte told detective King that the writer of the movie, couldn't get creative control, and he threatened to kill Stevens, but, then, they all did! All the evidence was destroyed, the rainy night the winds blew the movie script up in the air! How can the homicide detectives solve the hated man's death? It's a daunting task. From the motion picture sound stages and the Beverly Hills mansions, to the 'casting couches' of Hollywood, it will keep you guessing! It chooses, and you hear the sound of it, but you do not know where it comes from or where it goes'. Like tonight, he thought. The tremendous hit on the head, from behind, caused Steven's mouth to click. His hands dropped the script, pages flying in the wind! He fell forward, and toppled on the spotless carpet, blood streaming out of the wound. The rain came in through the open sliding doors, while the wind carried pages up into the air, swirling around in circles, some falling like huge flat sheets of snow, over and around the body."