There’s a jostling. A crash. It’s definitely the sound of shattering glass. It’s hard to follow the action, but I keep moving my flashlight around, trying my best to pinpoint where the commotion is coming from.
“We got him,” a voice says. I recognize the voice. It’s Mike. I let out a sigh of relief. Thank goodness.
“He locked me in the shed in order to sneak in here,” I say. Every flashlight shines on Scoops’s face. He can’t deny it.
“Okay, okay. I know this may look bad, but I have a very good explanation as to why I’m here,” he says. Mike grabs Scoops’s collar. He won’t get away this time. “I got it from a reliable source that there’s some shady business going on in relation to this very movie, Mr. Davenport, and that something big is going to happen as a result. Is it true, Mr. Davenport, that you stole a very precious gem from Powerhouse Productions and that the budget for this movie is so high that the bigwigs are itching to pull the plug? What do you have to say about that? Do you deny it?”
Mr. Davenport strolls over to Scoops and gets right in his face.
“Whoever you are talking to is feeding you baloney,” he says.
“It’s a good thing the lights turned off before he could see anything of importance,” Walt chimes in. “Scoops, you might as well give it up. There’s no story to tell.”
“There’s always a story,” Scoops insists. “Right, Mr. Davenport?”
“Get him out of my sight. I better not see you anywhere near this set. Do you hear me? Or the person who will end up on the front page of your newspaper will be you.”
“Hold on a minute. I’m telling you the truth. Someone is trying to—”
Scoops continues to yell out as they drag him off the set.
It takes a good fifteen minutes before the lights are turned back on, and when they are, I’m happy to see Delphine was shielded from any onlookers by an oversize hat concealing her face. Miss Dupart, Edna Blanchett, and the choreographer, Katherine Robbins, also stand in front of her, making sure Scoops couldn’t see her.
“Everyone okay?” I ask.
“I’m ready to call it a night,” Delphine says, taking off her robe. “But we need to make one last run at the scene. Come on, everyone. Let’s do this. The end is near!”
“The movie business is always so full of surprises.” Miss Dupart beams. She’s probably having a way better time here than lounging by the pool at Crossed Palms. Miss Dupart adjusts her jangly bracelets and large rings while a worker places her on her mark, right in front of the tank.
Delphine is right. Now that Scoops is out of the way, there’s only one more scene to film.
“We’re already behind schedule, people. Let’s shoot Delphine’s close-up with the chapeau,” Mr. Davenport says. “Let’s go.”
A crew member runs offstage to find the chapeau and place it back on Delphine. I notice Delphine begin to pace back and forth. She’s reciting her long award-worthy speech meant to boost the morale of her mermaids before they go into battle with the sea creatures. Delphine asks for a run-through before the actual shoot. One more practice.
“My beautiful sisters. You are powerful and brave. Look not at this moment with dread,” Delphine says, clutching her hand to her heart. “We have been here before, countless times. If there is anything I know, it is this: If you fight with the truth by your side, you can never lose.”
The monologue continues on and on, and as it does, I notice a number of people around the set getting all misty-eyed. There’s sniffling. Someone pulls out a handkerchief. And another. Soon there’s not a dry eye in the room. Even I get caught up in her impassioned words. It’s almost impossible not to. I, too, want to put some fins on and join her mermaid army!
“Wow. She really is amazing,” I say.
Someone sniffles beside me. Even tough guy Mr. Davenport can’t hide his emotions. But when I try to make eye contact with him and share this moment, he goes right back to being the Mr. Davenport I know. Tough and cold. But now I’ve confirmed his little secret. He has a soft spot.
“There’s never a dull moment, huh, Mr. Davenport?” I say.
“Never a dull moment,” he says, quickly wiping away a tear.
“That reporter’s story was as full of holes as a block of Swiss cheese.”
“I trust these sea creatures before I trust anything reported to me by someone named Scoops,” he replies.
Now, if I’m not mistaken, I think Mr. Davenport just made a joke. How is that even possible? Who knew he had it in him?
“Well, you can’t blame him for trying,” I say. “Everyone in St. Pascal is excited about the movie. Maybe Scoops took his excitement to extreme levels, but at least we caught him before he could do any real harm.”
“Here’s a little advice: You can’t trust a person with a pen and pad. They will always bend the truth.”
Mr. Davenport has got it all wrong. Newspaper folks are like everyone else. They are doing their job. Sure, Scoops is crafty—the guy locked me in a shed, which I will never forgive him for—but he’s desperate for gossip. Gossip is his job. He doesn’t care about real news. I do respect his drive, though. It’s exactly how I feel when I’m trying to crack a case; I’ll do whatever it takes to uncover the truth.
“What’s taking that kid so long?” Mr. Davenport asks.
The crew begins to get a little restless. Something is definitely amiss. Another person is sent back to check on the assistant getting the chapeau. Then another. Then one more.
Soon, Mr. Davenport gets fed up, and he storms away in their direction. I follow close by.
“What’s the holdup?” he demands.
The workers are silent. They are afraid to say anything. Mr. Davenport doesn’t make it easy. You can feel he’s about to blow any second.
“It’s the Bejeweled Aqua Chapeau…” says an assistant, drenched in sweat. He steps forward.
“What about it?”
“We can’t find it,” he says. “We looked everywhere, Mr. Davenport. It’s not here.”
“Excuse me? What do you mean it’s not here?” bellows Mr. Davenport.
This can’t be happening. No way. There must be a mistake. It’s not possible. How could anyone misplace the most valuable piece on set?
“The diamond-encrusted swimming cap has to be around here somewhere,” I say. “Did you check the other room? Maybe someone hid it when Scoops got inside, as a safety precaution.”
“We’ve checked everywhere and with everyone. The Bejeweled Aqua Chapeau is nowhere to be found.”
Mr. Davenport’s face becomes fiery red. Oh no. This can’t be.
“You better check again!” he shouts. The entire crew starts running amok.
Chapter Ten
MR. DAVENPORT’S RAGE FORCES EVERYONE TO RUN around in circles trying to locate the bejeweled swimming cap. If there’s anything I know, it’s this: If the Bejeweled Aqua Chapeau is not where it was supposed to be, then it’s certainly not “lost” somewhere in the club. It’s abundantly clear that someone stole the Bejeweled Aqua Chapeau, but who?
“Keep looking!”
Walt hurries over and joins me in the already-crowded dressing room. Workers scramble to appease Mr. Davenport, who tosses items that look nothing like the chapeau all over the floor and off tables. Anger will never solve problems or get results. Sadly, Mr. Davenport is spiraling, and I don’t see him calming down anytime soon.
“We’ve got to interview everyone who last saw or handled the diamond swimming cap,” I say, pulling out my pad and pencil. “None of the workers should be allowed to leave. Don’t you think, Walt?”
“Correct,” Walt says. “Everyone! Let’s form a line right here—”
“Have you two lost your minds?” Mr. Davenport yells. “Whoever took the diamond cap is probably outside right now making his getaway! And you two want to conduct a survey! This is your fault!”
Mr. Davenport points his finger, still knuckling his cigar, and jabs it at Walter’s chest. Walt inhales every t
ime Mr. Davenport punctuates his exclamations.
“Now, Mr. Davenport, we took every precaution to ensure the diamond swimming cap was safe,” Walt defends himself. “No one could have predicted the blackouts. Now, if we can speak to the crew, we can create a timeline.”
“Timeline! Timeline! It’s pretty obvious what just happened,” Mr. Davenport says. He continues to pick up items off tables and slam them back down, as if a powdered compact case would conceal a bejeweled swimming cap. Every time he does this, a crew member follows his movements, checking to see if Mr. Davenport missed something while also cleaning up his messes. It’s a bunch of hustle and bustle, causing more chaos than is warranted.
“You told me you’ve had experience with this type of product,” Mr. Davenport continues. His face turns redder and redder. “You told me Crossed Palms has handled rare jewels before. Wasn’t it your idea to film in the Mermaid Club? How did this come to pass? How?”
Walt starts to sweat. It’s obvious this isn’t his fault. I remember Walt saying Mr. Davenport is notorious for getting people fired. He’s blown his top, and I can sense he’s about to go down that very path. I can’t allow this to happen. I have to distract Mr. Davenport and remind him we know what we are doing.
“Mr. Davenport, time is of the essence,” I say. “Let’s talk to the crew before they start forgetting what happened.”
“Cecil, let them do their job,” Delphine says, but Mr. Davenport continues shouting. He is in such a tantrum that he has forgotten about the star of the movie as well as the entire cast who are tired and waiting patiently. Delphine’s hair drips wet, forming a puddle on the floor. She trembles a bit.
Mr. Davenport finally starts to calm down. Not entirely, but it’s progress. He focuses away from Walt and yells at a crew member instead.
“Someone should take her back to the hotel,” I say. “Don’t you think, Mr. Davenport? The longer she stays here, the more likely Ms. Lucerne will catch a cold.”
“Yeah, yeah. Someone get her out of here.”
Mr. Davenport will not be satisfied until the chapeau falls from the ceiling and lands, plop, right on his head.
“I’ll be leaving now, Cecil. Good luck,” Delphine says. Edna hands Delphine an oversize robe. “What would I do without you?” Delphine says to Edna.
“This would never have happened at Powerhouse,” Edna replies with a scowl.
Mr. Davenport doesn’t bother looking her way. He’s much too busy bossing people around. Although she wears large sunglasses, I bet underneath them Delphine is just as upset as Mr. Davenport, only she doesn’t need to scream at people to express herself.
I walk out of the room with Delphine.
“Before you go,” I say, “can I ask you a couple of questions?”
Unfortunately, everyone is a potential suspect right now. The only way to eliminate suspects is by finding out where they were in the last thirty minutes. There’s no clear-cut reason why Delphine would want to steal the Bejeweled Aqua Chapeau, but you just never know.
“Of course,” Delphine says. “Let’s go over here for a little bit of privacy.”
Delphine and I find a quiet corner in front of the mermaid tank. The glow from the lights emanating from inside the tank gives an ominous feel.
I miss when the club was just a club. When I could swing by after work, chat with Mike about poetry, and see my mother swimming. When friends and visitors could sit at a table and enjoy the mermaid show. But currently, the club is in a state of disarray. Too many huge wires everywhere. The dressing room too crowded and messy. Oversize cameras abandoned for the time being. Lights. Costumes. Nothing is what it seems.
I clear out a chair filled with movie equipment and urge Delphine to take a seat.
“Can you tell me when the last time you saw the Bejeweled Aqua Chapeau was?”
Delphine tucks a long, wet strand of hair behind her ear. Her makeup is still intact, which is pretty amazing considering how long she’s been underwater today.
“Well, let me think. After we returned from our break, Cecil was still so annoyed with me,” she says. “We had one last shot with the diamond cap, wasn’t it? It’s hard to keep track.”
Delphine is right. Before Mr. Davenport sent me to work outside, and before Scoops locked me in the shed, Delphine was about to film scenes in the tank.
“Do you remember who placed the Bejeweled Aqua Chapeau on your head?”
She frowns and stares down at her perfectly painted toenails. This is really key. There’s a good chance whoever handed her the cap last would have seen or heard something suspicious. Every little detail can lead to a clue.
“I remember still being angry with Cecil. He can be so pigheaded sometimes. I remember thinking to myself, This tank is much too cold. I also kept thinking, how does your mother tolerate it?” she says. I can practically see her thoughts churning. “Hmmm. The swimming cap was definitely not cooperating in the water.”
I, too, remember Mom spending most of her time helping Delphine keep the cap from coming off while they did their underwater flips. This was right before Mr. Davenport kicked me off the set.
“Yes. I stepped out of the tank after the cap once again slipped off my head,” she says. “There really wasn’t any point in continuing. He was being ridiculous.”
I can’t argue with Delphine on that.
She furrows her brows. “Edna placed the cap back on my head. I remember because she inserted a couple more bobby pins to help secure it in place.”
“Were you in the water when the blackout happened?”
“No. We just finished getting the shot. It wasn’t perfect, but I somehow managed,” she says. “Your mother was gracious enough to help me take the cap off. It was so tight on my head that I could feel my temples pounding.”
“So Mom had the cap. And then what?”
“The blackout! The whole place turned dark. No, wait a minute,” she says. “That’s not completely true. Just before the lights went out, your mother took the cap and walked back to the dressing room. I’m guessing to make sure it was placed in a safe spot.”
“Hmmm.” This is interesting. If Mom was the last person to see the swimming cap, she might have seen some random person walking in. Who knows? Mom may hold the key to solving this case. This just might be a family affair!
“The lights went out. Do you recall seeing anyone? Anything out of the ordinary? Anything suspicious?”
“There was that one reporter. Besides him, everyone really was truly lovely today. Everyone. There wasn’t one person who stood out as suspicious or conniving.”
Of course, Scoops. He’s on the top of my list for sure. Maybe he was some sort of red herring, a distraction. Maybe he’s working in cahoots with an international diamond-stealing gang. I’ll need to talk to Scoops. Pronto.
“Delphine. Think. Sometimes a person who treats you nicely can have ulterior motives,” I say. I hate this about people, but it’s true. Diamonds can make a person go slightly mad from their brilliance. They are a quick financial fix, too.
Delphine shakes her head.
“I can’t think of a soul,” she says. “If I do, I promise to let you know.”
I thank Delphine for her time and walk her toward the secret exit. I locate the beekeeper’s uniform, right where I left it last. I help Delphine into the outfit.
“I hope they find the Bejeweled Aqua Chapeau,” she says before placing the beekeeper’s hat on.
“Me too,” I say, and give her a thumbs-up. One of the security guards gently takes her arm and leads her out to the car waiting to return her to Crossed Palms.
I jump back into the fray.
Walter interviews most of the camera crew. Because the extras were dismissed earlier, there aren’t that many people left to speak to. The only other workers on the set right before the blackout—and Scoops’s ill-timed appearance—were the costume designer, Edna Blanchett; the choreographer, Katherine Robbins; Miss Dupart; and one of the dancers who works with Mom. An
d Mom, of course. While Walt continues grilling the crew, I take the opportunity to speak to the choreographer.
“Ms. Robbins, do you have a moment? Just want to ask a couple of questions.”
The choreographer has a ballerina’s body. All lithe and long. While we are talking, she continues to move, tapping her leg or pointing a toe. It must be a nervous dancer habit, unless of course she’s guilty. Then this is a guilty dancer habit.
“Where were you during the blackout?”
“I was standing by Delphine and the dancers. Counting off.” Katherine has a heavy New York accent. While she talks she places her hair in a bun and sticks a bobby pin in.
“The lights went out. Then what?”
“The lights went out, and I did what anyone would do; I waited for the lights to turn back on,” she says. “I let the professionals handle it. This isn’t my first time at the rodeo. You have to be flexible when shooting on location.”
I pay attention to her fingers and her movements. Sometimes you can see if a person is telling the truth. They might appear nervous, start to sweat, or avoid eye contact. She doesn’t do any of those things.
“When did you last see the Bejeweled Aqua Chapeau?” I ask.
“On Delphine as she finished shooting the dance routine. She had the cap on. I helped her step out of the tank and it took all three of us to get the cap off her head,” she says, pointing and flexing her foot. “When we finally did, Ms. Bell took the cap backstage. Then—poof—the lights went out.”
Her story totally lines up with Delphine’s.
“You didn’t go backstage?”
“No, I didn’t. Just ask Edna. She was there right beside me,” she says. “Is that all?”
I’ll definitely want to speak to Edna next. “One more thing, Katherine. Did you see or hear anything?”
“The only thing I heard was Mr. Davenport screaming like a garbage truck in the early morning.”
Interesting. I take it Katherine is not a big Cecil fan. Enemies can make some passionate decisions, like stealing a diamond cap to sabotage a movie. But how would she have done it? She was next to Delphine the entire time.
The Hotel Whodunit Page 9