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“It was all very innocent,” said Farber. “Only, after Desparto died, some of the people began to wonder whether Madeline didn’t, in fact, have some power.”

“She put a curse on Desparto?” asked Jupiter.

Farber sighed. “Maybe I shouldn’t tell you. It was … well, the sort of thing people say when they’re very angry. She told him to go hang himself. Now that’s just an expression. I’m sure she didn’t mean it. Only right after she’d said it, Ramon Desparto climbed into his car and drove away — and the brakes failed so that he drove into a tree. There were no seat belts in those days, and he was thrown clear of the car. We found him wedged in the fork of a tree part way down an embankment on the side of the road. He was just hanging there with his head to one side. His neck was broken.”

“My gosh!” said Pete.

“So the coven broke up, and Madeline withdrew, and that was the end of that.

Now no one talks to Madeline, and I guess not many talk about her.”

“How about her manager? He used to be her chauffeur,” said Jupe.

“Didn’t really know him,” said Farber. He took a piece of paper from a pad on the counter and wrote Estelle DuBarry’s address on it. Then he added Ted Finley’s telephone number and the address where Gloria Gibbs worked in Century City. He gave the paper to the boys, and when they left the shop he stood leaning on his counter, staring straight ahead in an unseeing fashion.

“Nice guy,” said Pete, when they were outside, “and he sure likes to talk.”

“Yes, even though I guess we stirred up some bad memories for him,” said Bob.

“He looks as if he’s seeing Ramon Desparto again, hanging in the fork of a tree with his neck broken.”

Chapter 11

Friends and Enemies

THE MOTEL THAT Estelle DuBarry managed was on a side street off Hollywood Boulevard. When Bob rang the bell outside the office, an ageing woman with bleached blonde, curly hair and very black eyelashes came to the door.

“Miss DuBarry?” said Bob.

“That’s right.” She squinted slightly, as if she might need glasses.

“Elliott Farber told us you might be willing to talk with us,” said Bob. “We’re doing a paper for school. It’s a summer project on the history of the motion picture.”

“Why, how nice!” said the woman. “I’ll be happy to talk with you.” She opened the screen door and swung it wide. The boys went into a stuffy little room that was part office and part living-room. They took seats, and the faded actress immediately launched into the tale of her career in films. She had come to Hollywood as a young girl, and had taken a screen test. She told them how she had been given roles in several unimportant pictures and a few important ones. And since Estelle DuBarry’s career hadn’t been outstanding, she soon ran out of things to say to the boys.

Jupiter mentioned Madeline Bainbridge then, and the atmosphere in the little room changed abruptly.

“That terrible woman!” cried DuBarry.

“She hated me. She always hated me! I

was pretty, and not so high and mighty as

she was. If it hadn’t been for her, I

wouldn’t be running this crummy motel

today. If it hadn’t been for her, Ramon

and I would be married and living in some

big house in Bel Air!”

There was shocked silence. DuBarry

glared at Jupe and he looked away. “Mr.

Farber mentioned a coven,” he said at last.

“Can you tell us anything about the

coven?”

The colour left Estelle DuBarry’s face,

then flooded back in a crimson tide.

“We … we were just playing games, you

know,” she said. “We didn’t believe in it.

Except for Madeline. She believed in it.”

“So you didn’t believe in witchcraft,

and you still don’t?”

“Of course not!” cried the former

actress.

“You said an interesting thing a few

moments ago,” said Jupe. “You said that if it weren’t for Madeline Bainbridge, you and Ramon Desparto would be living in Bel Air today. How could that be? Ramon Desparto died in an accident.”

“That was no accident!” cried the woman. “It was … it was …”

She didn’t finish the sentence.

Bob moved awkwardly in his chair. “It was very nice of you