[b][color=9e0039][h1][center]Calvin Lovegrove[/center][/h1][/color][/b]
[color=9e0039][h2][center]The Apartment of Danielle Raymonde[/center][/h2][/color]
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Danielle sank into a plush white armchair facing the two detectives and crossed her legs, her expression falling blank. “A meeting.”

Calvin furrowed his brow. “We need more than that, miss.”

The starlet bit her lip and offered only silence. She reached onto the table for a cigarette and plopped it into her mouth. Cal quickly reached into his jacket and retrieved his lighter, scorching the end of the rollup.  

Danielle took a drag from her cigarette, attacking the detectives head-on with smoke, before she finally complied. “That is none of your business, detective. Show-business stops for nothing. Not even for you two.” She offered a half-smile to Ashley. Her kind, angelic demeanor had evaporated before Ashley’s eyes. “…but I’ll be a good girl and give you my alibi, if that’s what you are here for.”

By now, irritation had started to corrode Calvin’s expression. “We aren’t here for an alibi. Unless you make us feel as if we should be asking for one. We want to know what you saw. Then we’ll be out of your hair. Have you been to this club before?”

Danielle rolled her eyes and let loose another plume of smoke before suffocating her cigarette onto the ashtray. “The Carousel, pardon my language, is a shithole. The showgirls—as they tend to be—were vile and absurd. Yet, for some reason, I find myself there regularly. Writers and producers love to pitch to me underneath the neon lights and public indecency.”

“Miss Raymonde, your name is written in the vicinity of both murders. Wouldn’t it be irregular to attend two nights in a row?”

“No. The same meeting warranted another night of parlay. One—again—which is none of your business. However, both nights, we left well before midnight.”

“Who was the man you were meeting with?”

“A writer. I do not remember his name. If you want to pester RKO Pictures to track him down, be my guest.”

Cal sighed and interlocked his hands. Danielle’s performance worried him. She’d shapeshifted into multiple different characters dramatically before their eyes. Still, her alibi—while only half-true—was perfectly constructed. By the time the detectives would be able to comb through RKO to get a statement from said ‘writer’, the case would fall cold. She’d presented herself as a dead-end.

Calvin looked at Ashley, his confidence and composure now rejuvenated. “What are you thinking, Ash?”