by Fiona Leitch
He grimaced. ‘You shouldn’t have.’
‘It didn’t look like there was much food left on the plates last night, so I thought you might want to swab this lot and make sure it matches the victim’s toxicology report,’ I said. The SOCO looked surprised, then nodded appreciatively as he took the bag.
‘Good thinking,’ he said, then he looked at me. ‘You’re Eddie Parker’s daughter, aren’t you? I didn’t know him very well – I hadn’t been in the force long when he passed away – but he was a good bloke. Very encouraging. I’ve heard all about you since you’ve been back.’
I must’ve looked as alarmed as I felt because Nathan laughed. ‘All good, I hope,’ I said.
The SOCO grinned. ‘Mostly.’ He held up the stinky rubbish bag. ‘Thanks for this. I’ll swab it for tetrodotoxin as soon as I get back to the station and we should have the results by the end of the day, along with the toxicology report on the body.’
We watched him drive away.
‘Go on, then,’ said Nathan.
‘What?’
‘Your sixth sense is tingling, isn’t it?’ He turned to look at me. ‘You’re going to do it again, aren’t you? Turn my nice, neat, cut-and-dried case into a convoluted murder mystery worthy of Sherlock Holmes.’
‘I thought I was Magnum PI?’ That was what he’d called me in the early days of our relationship, when we’d butted heads over the murder of Tony’s ex-wife. Everything had pointed towards Tony being the killer, but I’d been convinced that I knew better and, as it turned out, I had. But when I’d told Nathan he was wrong and that I was going to investigate it myself, he’d thought it was the most hilarious thing he’d ever heard. I’d enjoyed proving him wrong. My tummy rolled over at the thought that I might not get to prove him wrong ever again.
Nathan laughed. ‘I didn’t know you properly then. Coffee?’
‘If I say yes, does that mean we go back to the food truck and I have to make it?’
‘Yes. And if you’ve got any biscuits floating about, I’d be happy to take them off your hands. Didn’t have time for breakfast.’
‘I think we can do better than that,’ I said, an image of me dressed as a Fifties housewife (complete with frilly apron) making breakfast pancakes for him floating across my mind. In his dreams! I thought, then felt sad because that obviously wasn’t in his dreams if he was leaving. I cleared my throat. ‘I mean, I’ll make you something if you like.’
We walked back to the truck and I made some coffee. Nathan wouldn’t let me make him breakfast, but I found one of Zack’s protein bars and gave him that instead. Then we sat at one of the picnic tables, Nathan bundled up in his thick coat opposite me and me wrapped in a blanket that Gino had tucked away. Germaine sniffed around Nathan’s feet, hoping for a little piece of whatever he was having, then gave up and whined until I picked her up and sat her on the bench next to me, where she rested her nose in my lap.
I fumbled in my pocket and pulled out a sheet of paper as Nathan blew on his coffee. ‘Here. A list of everything I used in last night’s meal, just in case.’ He reached for it and his fingers touched mine for a second, making them tingle. Oh my God, get outta here with your Mills-and-Boon stuff, I thought, but I couldn’t help it. Nathan looked at me but didn’t say anything, then pulled the list towards him and started to read through it.
‘Blimey, Jodie, what is half this stuff? ‘Fukujinzuke’?’
‘Japanese pickled veg. I didn’t make it; it was in a jar. I should probably have listed what was in it…’
‘Yeah, well, maybe if the lab results come back negative for tetrodotoxin. This is everything you served them last night, then?’
‘Yes,’ I said, but then something occurred to me. ‘No, wait, they had cupcakes too, if they got round to eating them before poor Jeremy carked it. I didn’t make them, either.’
‘Were they from a shop or did someone here make them?’
‘I don’t know.’ I looked at him, my mind working furiously. ‘I was busy doing something and then I looked up and there they were, on the counter, in a proper cake box. I didn’t see who delivered them, and Zack didn’t know anything about them. They looked like they’d come from a shop, but there wasn’t any name or anything on the box, so I couldn’t say for certain.’
‘Hmm…’ Nathan looked thoughtful. ‘Maybe one of the others could have ordered them? I’ll make a note of it.’
‘So did you talk to the hospital? Were the rest of them ill?’
Nathan nodded. ‘Yes. Aiko Takahashi seems to have had the worst of it.’
‘Zack said she was throwing up most of the night.’
‘Yes, the doc said he called her at one point because he was so worried about her. She’ll recover, but it’s really taken it out of her. She checked on Sam Pritchard around midnight and he’d just been sick. The nurses didn’t see much of Mike Mancuso – he managed to wangle himself a private room – but he was apparently talking to the toilet bowl half the night too, and Faith says she felt ‘funny’ but managed to sleep it off.’
‘What about Kimi?’
‘Kimi said she was fine and discharged herself after they told her the dog couldn’t stay at the hospital, even if she was in a private room.’
‘Did she actually eat any of the fish?’ I asked. ‘She’s supposedly vegan, but only when it suits her. She told Zack she’d eat it.’
‘I don’t know,’ said Nathan. ‘But it would explain why she wasn’t ill.’ He looked at me. ‘And it would make it even more likely that it really was the pufferfish.’
I sighed. ‘I know…’
He copied my sigh. ‘But…’
I reached across the table and swatted him. ‘I’m not that bad!’
‘I know,’ he said, then sighed again. ‘But…’ I reached across the table to playfully slap him again, but he laughed and grabbed my hand. ‘I could have you for assaulting a police officer, you know.’
I snorted. ‘I’d like to see you try.’
He smiled, but didn’t let go of my hand. ‘I’ve noticed something. Every time I try to talk to you lately, we either get interrupted or you run away.’
I felt my face get hot. Don’t talk to me about your new job, I thought desperately, I don’t want to think about it. But he clearly was going to talk to me about it.
‘Ever since I mentioned that job offer—’
‘Are you DCI Withers?’
Nathan held my hand and my gaze for a few seconds longer, then dropped both and turned to the owner of the voice. David Morgan stood behind Nathan, looking thoroughly annoyed.
Nathan gave him a placatory smile. ‘What can I do for you, sir?’
‘That policeman over there’ – he gestured vaguely towards Zack’s caravan, where Davey was still on guard – ’he told me you’re in charge. Can you please tell me what the devil is going on here? I’ve just heard some of the crew saying they’re pulling the plug on the shoot, and there’s all sorts of wild rumours flying around.’
‘And who might you be, sir? I don’t believe we’ve met.’
‘David Morgan,’ he snapped. ‘I’m the owner of Polvarrow House.’
‘Nice to meet you, Mr Morgan,’ said Nathan, holding out his hand to shake. Morgan’s irritation subsided, eroded by Nathan’s charm. ‘Has no one from the production company contacted you?’
‘No, I’ve heard nothing,’ said Morgan. ‘To be honest, Detective Chief Inspector, I’m starting to wish I’d never agreed to them filming here.’
‘It must be difficult, I can imagine,’ said Nathan agreeably. ‘All I can tell you is that last night, one of the cast members was taken ill after shooting and subsequently died. We’re not currently treating it as suspicious, but of course we do have a duty to investigate any unexpected death. Hence there’ll be a few of my uniformed colleagues around for a couple of days, and I’ll be here as necessary as well. What that means for the shoot I can’t tell you, I’m afraid. I assume they’re trying to decide how best to proceed. You should probably ta
ke it up with Mr Mancuso.’
‘Someone died? Who? How?’ Morgan looked horrified.
‘Jeremy Mayhew,’ I said. ‘It looks like an allergic reaction to something he ate.’ Nathan looked at me sharply, then nodded.
‘We’re still waiting for the official cause of death, but that’s certainly what it looks like,’ he said.
‘How terrible,’ said Morgan, although he looked almost relieved. ‘Well, I’ll just… Things to do,’ he said, lamely. ‘Thank you for your help, DCI Withers.’
We watched him leave. Germaine, whose ears had been pricked and alert all through the exchange with Morgan, gave a heavy sigh and settled down again.
‘He really doesn’t like having them here, does he?’ murmured Nathan.
‘No,’ I said, ‘which is a shame, because I met him on casting day and he was really excited about it. They got his back up when they trampled all over his flowerbed, the day the lightbulbs got smashed.’
‘Yes…’ Nathan looked thoughtful.
I smirked. ‘You’re doing it now. It’s niggling you too, isn’t it?’
‘Nothing’s niggling me,’ he said, but he didn’t sound convincing and he knew it. ‘Oh all right, yes, yes, it is.’
‘Too many accidents.’
He nodded. ‘It’s all just a bit … convenient, isn’t it? So many accidents, people thinking the shoot’s cursed, and then there’s a death. So maybe it is cursed. Except you and I know these things don’t exist, don’t we?’
‘We do.’
‘The only curse that exists is the one between me and you. The one where we get interrupted every time I try and—’ Nathan’s phone began to ring. He rolled his eyes and looked at me. ‘See? Every. Single. Time.’ He answered the phone. ‘DCI Withers… How are you feeling today, Mr Mancuso?’ He raised his eyebrows and looked at me as he talked. ‘So no more sickness? That’s good… Of course… Well, maybe we should have a little chat first… Oh, are you? That’s handy, so am I. We can use Ms Mackenzie’s trailer.’
He grinned at me as he disconnected the call. ‘So that was Mike Mancuso, wanting a case reference number so he can claim on the shoot’s insurance. Fancy coming for a chat?’
Chapter Seventeen
The movie producer was looking surprisingly chipper for someone who had been throwing up all night, and whose movie was presumably dead in the water along with one of its stars.
He stood up as we entered Faith’s trailer and strode over to us, then pumped Nathan’s hand. ‘Thanks for coming, Detective, appreciate it.’
‘No problem,’ said Nathan. ‘There were a few questions I wanted to ask you about last night, so we can kill two birds with one stone.’ He smiled and gestured to the built-in seating in the trailer’s kitchen area. ‘Shall we?’
Mancuso’s smile hardened; if he’d thought he was calling all the shots, Nathan had just firmly (but politely) shown him otherwise. But he was no doubt used to being the most powerful person in the room, and it would take more than that to throw him off his stride.
‘Of course.’ He looked me up and down, then turned back to Nathan as he sat down. ‘We really gonna talk in front of the caterer?’ He looked down as Germaine gave a little whine, then up at Nathan again. ‘And the mutt?’
‘Ms Parker’s catering business is just a sideline,’ said Nathan. ‘She’s a consultant with the Devon and Cornwall Constabulary, and obviously this particular case is well within her sphere of expertise.’ He paused. ‘The dog’s just along for the ride.’
I knew Nathan was only saying it to stop Mancuso objecting to my presence, but I still preened slightly. He called me an expert! I thought.
‘Case?’ said Mancuso sharply. ‘Surely Mayhew’s death was an accident, right? The pufferfish toxin—’
‘We’re still waiting for confirmation of the cause of death,’ said Nathan calmly. ‘Until then, we can’t rule anything out.’
‘But you know it was an accident, right?’ He looked from Nathan to me for confirmation.
‘Maybe it was the curse,’ I said. He rolled his eyes.
‘There ain’t no such thing,’ he said. ‘I know there’ve been a lot of … mishaps, but all this talk of a curse… Movie stars are like racehorses; they’re highly strung and easily spooked. There ain’t no curse. It was an accident, I’m telling ya.’
‘You’re probably right,’ agreed Nathan. ‘But we still need to ask you a few questions. I believe you were ill overnight? Tell me about that.’
‘I had a headache and vomiting,’ said Mancuso. Nathan waited. ‘What, you wanna description?’
‘We’re trying to work out why you were all affected to varying degrees,’ said Nathan. ‘Why do you think Mr Mayhew was so acutely affected? If it was the pufferfish, do you think he had considerably more than anyone else?’
Mancuso shifted around in his seat. ‘I don’t know. Ain’t like I was watching what everyone was eating.’
‘Fair enough. Can you tell me what you ate?’
‘The pufferfish, of course. I ate everything; it was delicious.’
‘Did you have a cupcake?’ I asked. Nathan shot me the briefest of glances and I got the impression that was exactly what he’d expected me to ask.
Mancuso nodded. ‘Oh yeah, at the end Zack brought out the box of cupcakes and we all had one. They were good.’
‘Did everyone eat one?’
He thought. ‘I think so… although Kimi made a big thing about not eating sugar, so I guess she didn’t. I don’t know.’
‘And were you in the trailer for the whole meal?’ Nathan made notes on his pad, which Mancuso was eyeing uneasily. I wasn’t sure if it was a sign of guilt (guilt about what, I didn’t know), or if he was just generally a shifty character. He was a New York movie producer, so my money was on the latter.
‘Yeah,’ he said. ‘Oh, except right at the beginning, before we started eating. I got a call from my daughter, so I went outside to take it. She’s staying with me during the shoot.’
‘Okay…’ Nathan wrote that down, then looked up with a smile. ‘So what happens now?’
‘What do you mean?’
‘Are you closing down the shoot? Or can you keep going without Jeremy?’
‘You’ll lose money if you just shut down,’ I said. ‘Or are you insured against stuff like this?’
Mancuso looked a bit put out. ‘Why do you wanna know?’
‘She’s an ex-copper,’ said Nathan. ‘She’s nosey, like me. Humour us.’
I held my hands out in defence. ‘I’m just interested, that’s all. Half the town signed on as extras, so they’ll all want to know what’s going on.’
He didn’t look too keen to go into details and for a moment I thought he was just going to ignore me, but then he obviously decided I wasn’t a threat and gave me a big, false smile.
‘Of course we’re insured; it’s standard for all big shoots. It covers your losses if you’re forced to stop filming, whether it’s temporarily or for good.’
‘So if a member of the cast or crew is accidentally killed during filming—’ began Nathan.
‘It pays out, yeah.’
‘But Jeremy didn’t die as a result of an accident during filming, did he?’ I said. I could see Nathan looking at me keenly, although I wasn’t even sure myself what I was getting at. ‘Kimi told Sam he should have stopped Zack serving the fish, but you said you’d okayed it. I’m sure I read something once about movie stars wanting to do risky stuff like, I dunno, motor racing or water-skiing during breaks between filming, and the production company forbade them to do it because it was dangerous and would jeopardise the movie.’ I looked at Mancuso thoughtfully. ‘But this was dangerous, and you okayed it. Why would you do that?’
‘Because the caterer – Gino, the real caterer – assured me it was safe. He said he would make sure it wasn’t dangerous.’
Nathan and I exchanged looks.
‘How was he intending to do that?’ asked Nathan.
‘Jeez, I don’t know!�
�� Mancuso sounded exasperated. ‘I guess he was going to watch over Zack and make sure he prepared it properly.’
‘But then Gino broke his arm,’ pressed Nathan. ‘You didn’t think maybe you should advise Zack against it, without Gino there to watch him?’
The producer laughed, but it sounded forced. ‘Hey, you sure you don’t work for the insurance company?’
Nathan laughed as well, and his didn’t sound any more genuine. ‘If your insurers are anything like mine, they’ll give you a much more thorough grilling than that. You should’ve heard the fuss they made over a simple fender-bender. And me an honest copper, too.’
Mancuso stood up, obviously hoping we would follow suit and leave, but both of us stayed seated.
‘Look, okay,’ he said. ‘Maybe I should have thought about stopping Zack, but cards on the table, I got a lot on my mind during a shoot and it didn’t occur to me there could be a problem. I’m a busy man, so sue me.’ He went to the door and opened it. ‘Now, like I said, I’m a busy man, so if you don’t mind…’
‘I don’t mind,’ said Nathan pleasantly, not moving immediately. ‘Oh sorry, did you want us to leave? What am I like? Of course, you’ve got important things to do. I’ve just got to find out for certain how one of your main actors died.’ He stood up and I followed his lead. Nathan took a business card from his pocket and wrote a number on it. He walked to the door and handed it to Mancuso. ‘Here’s the case number, if the insurance company asks for it. Thank you for your time.’
He stepped through the door but I knew Nathan, and I knew he wasn’t done yet – and I was right. He stopped and turned back to Mancuso. ‘I wouldn’t file that claim yet though, if I were you. Bye now.’
Nathan strode down the stairs leaving Mancuso glaring after him. I smiled my most charming smile, said, ‘Bye!’ and followed, picking up Germaine as her little legs had trouble with the stairs. I knew how she felt.
Nathan was almost back at the food truck before I caught up with him. He turned and grinned at me, a mischievous grin that turned my knees to jelly and (if I’m being honest) loosened my knicker elastic a little.