Tyler opened his mouth to reply but apparently thought better of it. There was a long silence before he spoke. “All right. I’ll have the killer arrested by the end of today. You have my word.”
12
The Westwick Corners county jail was located on the main floor of city hall and consisted of three rooms, four if you counted the lone jail cell. I sat alone in one of the two offices adjoining the interview room. My eyes focused on the large two-way glass window that separated the office from the interview room where Tyler interviewed Steven Scarabelli. I was there both as a witness and in case he needed corroboration in court. Steven’s interrogation was taped, but since the aging video equipment sometimes malfunctioned, I was his backup plan.
Unofficially I also assisted Tyler by taking notes and watching Steven’s body language. True, I wasn’t a police investigator, but as an investigative reporter, I was adept at noticing anomalies and “tells” that people sometimes revealed under pressure. My hunches often unearthed secrets, something I hoped would be the case today. Tyler had to solve Dirk’s murder quickly if he was to escape Brayden’s attempts to fire him. He had no other job prospects in town, and the last thing I wanted was a long-distance relationship.
Tyler and Steven faced each other across the table in the next room. The camera angle provided a clear view of Steven, who leaned forward with his forearms on the table. He seemed anxious to cooperate and clear up any questions. Tyler was visible in profile. He leaned back and let Steven do most of the talking.
Steven Scarabelli’s voice broke as he grew increasingly frustrated. “I swear I never went near the props or the gun. Your witness is lying.”
That witness was Aunt Pearl, who had conveniently made herself scarce since Steven Scarabelli’s arrest. It was now just after 4 p.m. The clock ticked towards Brayden’s deadline, but we were no closer to the truth.
“Okay, fine. Tell me about Dirk’s contract. Why wouldn’t he sign?” Tyler asked.
“I have no idea. I gave him everything he asked for and more,” Steven said. “Looking back, it was almost like he knew from the start that he wasn’t going to sign no matter what. He was playing a game with me. Like he was trying to exact revenge or something.”
“Why would he do that?”
“Mean streak?” Steven shrugged, then slumped against the chair back, as if retreating from his troubles. “I feel bad saying that about someone who just died, but it’s the truth. I have no idea why he was being difficult. I got Dirk started in this business, so I don’t know why he’d want to hurt me.”
“You’re not the one who got hurt the most, though. Dirk’s dead.” Tyler leaned forward. “Maybe Dirk wanted out of the contract and you didn’t like that.”
“No—I gave him all kinds of concessions. Things I would normally never give up, like a big percentage of the box-office receipts. Things I really couldn’t afford to give. But I did anyway because I had no choice. I couldn’t lose my biggest star.”
“Maybe in the heat of the moment you lost your temper. All his unreasonable demands…” Tyler’s voice trailed off as he met Steven’s gaze.
Steven held up his arms in protest. “We had our differences, but I had less of a reason to kill him than anyone. In fact, I’m bound by contract to the rest of the cast and crew to pay their full wages on a movie I can no longer make. That was the deal I made to convince people to come to this out-of-the-way town. I’m pretty much financially ruined now. Where am I going to find a star with the same box-office draw as Dirk? He was frustrating to deal with, but I never wished him dead.”
I had reached two conclusions about Steven Scarabelli. One, he was exceptionally good at incriminating himself. Two, he was innocent.
I scribbled a note to check Steven’s claims. The payroll for cast and crew was undoubtedly large. If Steven was telling the truth, then any insurance proceeds he got were likely to barely cover his bills at best. Insurance policies on star actors probably just made good business sense, as opposed to being part of some sinister plan.
On the other hand, Steven Scarabelli had lost his two main stars within days of each other. They just happened to be husband and wife. That seemed highly suspicious. Rose Lamont’s death had been ruled as natural causes, but still…
I jumped as something crashed in the outer office. My heart sank. It was probably Brayden coming to apply more pressure.
But it wasn’t Brayden.
13
“Yoo-hoo…anyone in here?” Aunt Amber’s artificially cheery voice drifted in from the outer office.
I swore under my breath. Just what we needed—supernatural interference from a spoiled wannabe star.
The door clicked open. “Cen! I still can’t believe Dirk is dead. He was such a dear friend.” She dabbed her eye with a tissue, though her eyes were dry.
I jumped from my seat and held a finger to my lips. I nodded towards the interrogation room where Tyler was just wrapping up his interview with Steven Scarabelli. “Shhh. What are you doing here?”
“I should ask you the same.” Aunt Amber’s eyes narrowed as she peered through the glass. “Ooh, that man! At least he’s finally locked up for killing Dirk. I’ve come to provide my eyewitness account so we can really nail him. I saw the whole thing.”
“That’s impossible,” I said. “You were still with Steven when the shots were fired. I saw the two of you talking with my own eyes.”
Aunt Amber didn’t answer. Her gaze was riveted on the two men on the other side of the glass. She waved at Tyler, then shook her fist at Steven Scarabelli.
“They can’t see you, Aunt Amber. It’s a two-way mirror.”
“Oh.” Her shoulders slumped in disappointment as she reached for the door handle to the interview room.
“Stop! You can’t go in there,” I hissed. “They’re in the middle of the interview.”
Aunt Amber’s hand dropped to her side and she sat down across from me. She sighed. “Since when did you become so bossy?”
I ignored her and refocused my attention on the men in the next room.
“For the last time, I didn’t kill Dirk,” Steven was saying. “His death has financially ruined me. I got everyone to sign their contracts and then he pulled out at the last minute. I’m committed to paying them, but I’ve got no movie to earn money. I can’t do the sequel without Dirk, and now that he’s dead, I have no way to recoup my losses.”
Aunt Amber bolted from her seat. “That liar! He gets all that insurance money.”
“Sit down.” I waved her back to her seat. “Tyler knows all that. Just let him handle things.”
Tyler inched his chair a little closer to Steven. “When he quit, he pushed you over the edge. You knew Dirk wouldn’t finish the film no matter what, so you got revenge.”
Tyler was awfully convincing, though I knew he was skeptical of Steven’s guilt. I just hoped that Brayden’s pressure for an arrest didn’t force a false confession from an innocent man.
“That’s insane. I wasn’t anywhere near Dirk.” Steven rubbed his forehead. “I was too busy carrying out Dirk’s latest command, which was to fire Amber West.”
“No! That’s a lie!” Aunt Amber cried as she jumped up from her chair. “Dirk was my friend. Steven’s the one who betrayed me.”
“Quiet. Let him talk.” I held a finger up to my lips. Sooner or later she was going to burst through that door, and all I could do was stall her as long as possible.
Aunt Amber glared at me and began pacing back and forth as the two men continued talking. “Steven Scarabelli is an evil, despicable man. I should put a curse on him.”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re overreacting, Aunt Amber. You better not steer a murder case off track just because you lost your job. Let the investigation take its course.” I turned my attention back to the interrogation.
“Dirk wanted you to fire Amber?” Tyler jotted something on his notepad. “Why?”
“Dirk found Amber really annoying. He had promised her a bit part to shut he
r up, but then she started demanding things like her own trailer, higher placing in the credits, stuff like that. She’s the sole reason we’re even filming here in Westwick Corners. She sold me on free accommodations and no payments to the town.”
I glared at Aunt Amber. “You know we can’t afford that.” The revenue from our bed and breakfast barely covered our overdue utility bill. We couldn’t afford to operate without any payments at all.
“Liar.” Aunt Amber spat out the word as she went for the door handle again.
I grabbed her shoulders and steered her towards my chair. I leaned against the door, deciding to stand guard to prevent any outbursts or interruptions. She would have to get through me first.
“Is that really true about the free accommodations? We’re hosting all those people at our inn for nothing? And feeding them too? We can’t afford to do that.” Mom’s last Costco bill was over three thousand dollars. Steven wasn’t the only one with cash flow problems.
Aunt Amber shrugged. “What difference does it make? The movie’s not going ahead.”
Anger churned inside me. There was so much I wanted to say, but now wasn’t the time. I refocused on the men who sat opposite us on the other side of the glass.
“Hmm.” Tyler frowned. “Why would Amber make all those promises if she already had a part in the movie?”
Steven’s face flushed. “You don’t think Amber’s firing gives her a motive to kill Dirk, do you? Because we can alibi each other. We were together the whole time.”
Aunt Amber’s hand flew to her mouth. “He’s twisting everything around.”
I shook my head. “Steven’s defending you. Why are you being so critical?”
“The whole time?” Tyler scribbled something on his notepad.
“Well, most of it. She ran off just before the scene started shooting. I remember that because at first I had worried that she would run on set and disrupt the filming. So I was relieved when she left in the opposite direction.”
Aunt Amber swore under her breath. “I’ll bet he was. That jerk.”
My heart skipped a beat. Maybe Steven Scarabelli had walked over to the props after Aunt Amber left, unnoticed because everyone was focused on the filming. I had been distracted by Aunt Amber, watching her running away. It was possible he had walked towards Aunt Pearl and me without me noticing. For the first time, I was uncertain. Maybe it wasn’t so much what I had remembered, but what I wanted to believe. I refocused on the men in the next room.
Tyler frowned. “There’s one thing that I just don’t understand, Steven. Why would Dirk be the one deciding on film credits and who gets their own trailer? As producer, don’t you determine the actors’ perks? Dirk is just another actor that works for you, even if he is the star. Why would Amber ask Dirk for favors?” Tyler leaned forward in his chair. “He’s not running the show. You are.”
Steven sighed. “She figured I would say no. In fact, I had already said no to some of Amber’s more outrageous demands. Then she went to Dirk and complained about me. She knows that Dirk has—had—a lot of leverage and he routinely stops production unless his demands are met. I think she went to him out of spite.”
“Is that true?” I whispered.
Aunt Amber shrugged, her eyes fixated on the two-way mirror. Her face was flushed with barely contained anger.
“When exactly did he ask to have her fired?” Tyler asked.
Aunt Amber’s strong personality meant she was difficult sometimes, but I never thought she was manipulative. It surprised me that she would go to Dirk after Steven had nixed her requests. I had always thought she was above that sort of behavior. Maybe the promise of stardom had gone to her head.
“Just before shooting started,” Steven said. “Her complaints really set him off. Dirk told me that either she goes or he did. He wasn’t going to even finish the scene with her there.”
I flashed back to the argument outside Steven’s trailer.
“I thought Dirk had already pulled out of the film.” Tyler seemed to read my mind. He scratched his chin and scribbled a few sentences on his notepad.
Steven sighed. “He pulled out of the next film, not this one. The first bit of filming here in Westwick Corners was just to wrap up some outside location scenes. The movie was almost done.”
Now I understood why Aunt Amber wasn’t in the scene. Her movie hadn’t even started filming yet.
“Amber was fired from the next film then, just before filming on that one starts?” Tyler asked.
“That’s right. She took it pretty hard.” Steven shook his head sadly. “I wish Dirk hadn’t insisted because I could have handled it differently, made it a lot easier on her. Amber only had a couple of scenes, a minor speaking role. Now she hates me, and it breaks my heart. Amber and I have been friends for decades. It sickens me to think that she thinks I’m the one that wanted her gone.”
I turned to Aunt Amber. “Is that true?” Her claim of starring in a blockbuster was apparently a gross exaggeration by Steven’s account. His version made a lot more sense, since my aunt’s starring role had struck me as odd in the first place.
She just scowled at me, arms crossed. A solitary tear ran down her cheek as she turned away.
It still seemed unlikely that Steven had killed Dirk, except for Aunt Pearl’s account. But was she telling the truth? There was no corroborating evidence to substantiate her claims. At least not yet.
Steven shook his head. “Amber’s scenes probably would have ended up on the cutting room floor, knowing Dirk. I thought that firing her was such an extreme measure.”
“That evil man!” Aunt Amber shook her fist at the two-way mirror. “He’s making up this elaborate lie to cover up what he did. I’m not letting him get away with this!”
“Let the sheriff do his job, Aunt Amber.” I grabbed my aunt’s shoulder but it was too late.
She already had her hand on the doorknob to the interview room. She swung open the door and burst in. She pointed her forefinger at Steven Scarabelli. “That’s your killer. I saw everything!”
14
It took the better part of an hour to calm Aunt Amber, but she eventually saw reason. Getting fired seemed inconsequential now with the filming halted. No one ever had to know because the movie would probably never get made. Her firing would never be made public and she would never lose face.
Now that Aunt Amber understood the gravity of the situation, she had at least backed off accusing Steven of murder. My eyewitness account of her leaving the scene before the shooting started corroborated Steven’s. All of that meant that she couldn’t have possibly witnessed Dirk’s murder.
So why had she lied?
That a grudge or at best, a faulty memory, could result in a murder charge was disturbing, to say the least. It was doubly disturbing to hear those claims from my honest-to-a-fault aunt. I guess she was so wrapped up in this movie thing that she wasn’t her usual logical, reasonable self. That aside, we weren’t any closer to making headway in the investigation. The side leads just wasted everybody’s time and efforts. It was almost certain that Steven Scarabelli was not Dirk’s killer. In the meantime, the real killer remained free and able to strike again.
The only good thing to happen in the last few hours was Mom bringing us dinner. She had even convinced Aunt Amber to head back to the Inn to relax for a while. That brought a smile to my face. I knew Mom would quickly put her to work. Not necessarily a bad thing.
I sat across from Tyler in his office. Our half-finished plates of Mom’s barbecue chicken had grown cold as we scanned through the movie footage, frame by frame, in slow motion. Even on the large fifty-inch screen, it was hard to see all the action. The multiple shooters and dusty street obscured so much that we couldn’t tell who was firing at any given time. Even then, five of the six guns shot blanks, so it didn’t really enlighten us much. The trick was to figure out which gun fired the deadly bullet. Since Dirk was the star, the camera focused on him. That made it easy to see exactly when he was shot, but
harder to determine who the off-screen shooter was.
“Maybe one of the cameras shot a different vantage point?” I was hopeful.
“Not according to the cameramen, and we’ve reviewed all their footage.”
“I never thought this would be so difficult,” I said. “Not that many crimes are filmed. Yet even with all the witnesses and actual film footage, we still can’t see what happened.”
Tyler nodded. “Since the blanks were all fired at the same time as the bullet, it’s almost impossible to figure out who shot him. All we can do is rule out everyone except those on the left side of the set, based on the angle of the shot. The problem, though, is how to determine who stood off-camera on the left. With no camera footage, we can only figure that out by process of elimination.”
He froze the screen and pointed at Dirk with his pencil. “See Dirk’s facial expression? He’s in pain. This is right when he got shot.”
I grimaced. “It’s morbid to capture a person’s death like this.” I had hoped the footage could identify the killer, but the cameras mostly focused on Dirk as the star. Since it was an action scene, the background was out of focus for much of the time, so that didn’t help either.
“Everybody seems to be out of position to shoot Dirk,” Tyler said. “A bullet from one of the actors’ guns would have hit him in the back, since they were chasing him. Yet he was shot in the chest.”
“True,” I said. Dirk’s male costars were directly behind him, with Arianne trailing a few feet in the rear. Everyone watching the filming on set was behind Dirk too. “The footage rules out every actor in the scene, and almost all of the crew working nearby.”
While the film footage didn’t incriminate anybody, at least it ruled out the actors and some of the crew. It still didn’t clear Steven Scarabelli. In fact, it strengthened the case against him. Or at least it would in Brayden’s eyes.
Witch and Famous--A Westwick Witches Cozy Mystery Page 9