10 Movie

by Parnell Hall

  I thought that over, shook my head. “Huge stumbling block,” I said.

  “What’s that?”

  “Too iffy. How does he know someone’s gonna lean on the rail? How does he know someone’s gonna fall? Now, in Sidney’s case, he told the boom man to stand there. He could have engineered it, see? But Jason wasn’t even there. Suppose no one leans on the rail?”

  “I agree,” Sergeant Clark said. “It’s just like I said about you. In that case it would be a rather hopeful sort of crime.”

  “No,” I said. “Entirely different.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because in my case, if no one falls down, tough luck. In Jason’s case, if no one falls down, he shows up at eleven o’clock and has to go up there and lean on the damn rail.”

  Clark nodded. “This is true.”

  “Which means he couldn’t have done it.”

  “No. It only means he must have had a plan to handle that contingency.”

  I opened my mouth to say something, closed it again. I cocked my head, looked at Sergeant Clark. “You really think Jason Clairemont did this?”

  “No. I’m merely examining the things that indicate he might have. And you, quite rightly, are pointing out the flaws. The fact that he would have to lean on that rail himself is indeed a flaw and a valid point. It’s not conclusive enough to exonerate him, because we don’t know the extent of the plan. Do you see what I mean?”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “Good. Then keep going. You’re Jason Clairemont’s advocate. Can you think of anything else that would tend to indicate his innocence?”

  I took a breath. “Not offhand,” I said rather stiffly.

  “Now, now,” Clark said. “You may not appreciate the assignment, but that’s no reason not to do it well.”

  I sighed. “I’ve had a long day. I’m not up to playing guessing games. What do you mean?”

  “Well,” Sergeant. Clark said. “An obvious point in Jason Clairemont’s favor is that he wasn’t along on the original location scout.”

  “Oh.”

  “Well, was he?”

  “No, he wasn’t.”

  “Right,” Clark said. “And you know that for sure because you were along on it.”

  I opened my mouth to speak and realized anything I said at that point could only sound defensive. I took a breath, said nothing.

  “That’s in Jason’s favor,” Clark said. “That he wasn’t along on the scout. Which, to the best we can determine, was Thursday, the week before last.

  “Now, then,” Clark said. “In support of the other theory—that Jason Clairemont is guilty—we have the fact that he was in town two weeks ago.”

  I frowned. “What?”

  “By his own admission,” Clark said. “In fact, you were there when he said it. He and his agent arrived in town a week before rehearsals to conduct contract negotiations. So by his own admission he was here.”

  I put up my hand. “Wait a minute. I think you’re going off on the wrong foot.”

  Clark frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “This whole two-week business. I mean, yes, we scouted the location then. And, yes, the rail could have been weakened in advance. But not then.”

  “I never said it was.”

  “You said it could have been done in advance. And the point is, it couldn’t have.”

  “Oh? And why not?”

  “I can’t believe no one’s pointed this out,” I said. “But this is an active construction site. That catwalk wasn’t there two weeks ago. We scouted a catwalk, but not that one. That’s the eighth floor. The catwalk we scouted was identical. But it was the sixth or seventh floor. Whatever they were up to. If you wanna know when that rail was weakened, you gotta get hold of the construction crew, find out when that eighth-floor catwalk was done.”

  “Yes, of course,” Sergeant Clark said. “You’re not the first one to point this out. Jake Decker said exactly the same thing.”

  I frowned. “Then I don’t understand. What’s all this about who went along on the location scout?”

  “Those people would be familiar with the site and the workings of the construction elevator. Of course, they couldn’t weaken the rail then. But they’d have the inside knowledge to do it when the time came.”

  “Yes,” I said. “But Jason Clairemont wasn’t on the location scout.”

  “Yes, of course,” Sergeant Clark said. “I counted that as a point in his favor.”

  I shook my head as if to clear it. “Hold on,” I said. “You just said a point against him was he was here two weeks ago.”

  “Yes. Of course.”

  “But the rail couldn’t have been weakened then.”

  “The rail? Oh, no. Of course not. It has nothing to do with that. No, the point is Jason Clairemont was in town two weeks ago when the first murder occurred.”

  I blinked. “What?”

  “It’s a huge strike against him,” Clark said.

  “Wait a minute, wait a minute,” I said. I smiled, shook my head. “Sergeant, I realize the man found in the freight elevator is the reason you’re here to begin with. It’s the reason you’re on the scene. It’s why you were called when the boom man was murdered. But that’s really all there is to it. You have a homeless man killed in a warehouse and a crew member killed on a movie set. Isn’t it obvious the two crimes are totally unrelated?”

  Sergeant Clark looked at me in surprise. “Absolutely not,” he said. “There’s no doubt in my mind the same person killed both men.”

  22.

  “UNBELIEVABLE!”

  “Calm down.”

  “Absolutely unbelievable!”

  “Please stop shouting.”

  “I’m not shouting.”

  “You’re talking very loud. You want Tommie to get upset?”

  “Alice—”

  “Shhh.”

  “Don’t shhh me!”

  “Lower your voice.”

  “Don’t you understand, Alice? He’s doing it again!”

  The he was Sergeant Clark. What he was doing again was making a mistake in a murder investigation.

  If I had been slightly more rational, I wouldn’t have been so upset about Alice not understanding that. After all, this was all news to her. Ten minutes ago, she didn’t even know there’d been a murder. There was no pay phone near the construction site, so I hadn’t been able to call her. And she hadn’t watched the evening news. So first she had to relate to the fact the boom man had been killed, before she could comprehend the fact that the investigation of it was being botched.

  It was her inability to assimilate this at lightning speed that was causing me to raise my voice. Which I admit was totally unfair. But I couldn’t help it. The son of a bitch was doing it again.

  “All right, slow down,” Alice said. “Try to tell me again. So far all I know is there’s been a murder and the officer in charge is Sergeant Clark. I understand why that’s enough to set you off, but it doesn’t tell me any of the specifics in the case. What is he doing again? And why is it tying you up in knots so bad you can’t talk about it?”

  What Sergeant Clark was doing again was, as I said, making a mistake in a murder case. What made it so infuriating was it was the same mistake he’d made in the first murder case. Remember how I said he’d solved the Rosenberg and Stone case, even though he’d made a faulty assumption? Well, it was the same damn faulty assumption. In the Rosenberg and Stone murders, he’d taken a homicide that had happened a year before and lumped it in with the group. And every time we wound up discussing the crimes, he kept harking back to that one. Which was enough to drive me nuts, since I knew for a fact it had nothing to do with it.

  I knew that because, one, I’d solved the case, two, the murderer had been apprehended and was in jail, and, three, the only thing that linked that murder to the Rosenberg and Stone crimes was the fact the victim was apparently one of Richard Rosenberg’s clients.

  I use the word apparently for g
ood reason. The victim was not one of Richard’s Rosenberg’s clients. He only appeared to be because I made it look like he was, in order to get me out of a jam. The man in question had actually no connection with Rosenberg and Stone whatsoever.

  Of course, I couldn’t tell Sergeant Clark that. All I could do was point out the absurdity of lumping him in with the others. To absolutely no avail. The man persisted, right up until the solving of the case, in considering the death of the man in question as a factor.

  And here he was, doing it again.

  “He’s a bum, for Christ’s sake,” I said. “Alice, we’re talking about a bum.”

  “Sergeant Clark?” Alice said.

  “No, not Sergeant Clark,” I said impatiently. “The victim. He was a bum who happened to get killed in the warehouse. Before we even rented it. Before we had anything to do with it. Some poor homeless man who happened to get killed by some other poor homeless man who probably wanted to steal his wine, for Christ’s sake.”

  “You’re shouting again.”

  “And what the hell has that got to do with some boom man falls off an eighth-story catwalk?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Of course you haven’t. Because there’s no connection whatsoever. It doesn’t matter whether someone’s trying to kill the boom man, or whether someone’s trying to kill Jason Clairemont, or whether Jason Clairemont’s trying to kill someone, or whether I’m the fucking murderer—none of those premises have the least to do with knocking off some bum in a warehouse.”

  “What’s the harm?” Alice said.

  I blinked. Gaped at her, mouth open. “The harm?” I said. “The harm is going off on a tangent and failing to solve the crime. That’s the harm. The harm is blowing the investigation by getting hung up on something irrelevant.”

  “You sure you’re not getting hung up on something irrelevant?”

  “Damn it, Alice—”

  “Stanley. Please. I understand. You’ve had a hard day. I mean, you were up there when it happened?”

  “Yes.”

  “It’s so frightening. I mean, you could have leaned on the rail.”

  That hadn’t really occurred to me. I mean, it had, but not the same way as when she said it. I felt very mortal at that moment. Also very frustrated, exasperated, what have you.

  “Right,” I said. “It could have been me. It could have been anyone. Which is the whole point, isn’t it? I mean, if there’s a killer running around loose, he might try again. Are the people on the movie safe? Is Jason Clairemont safe? Is Sidney Garfellow safe? Am I safe, for Christ’s sake?”

  “Stop. You’re scaring the shit out of me.”

  “I should hope so,” I said. And immediately wished I hadn’t. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean that.”

  We were in the kitchen and I had been pacing up and down. Now I sank into a chair at the kitchen table, put my head in my hands. “I’m sorry,” I said. “I’m calming down. Really. But you gotta understand. This movie was my chance. I got a creepy kid actor who’s ruining it for me, but it’s still my chance. I still can’t let go. I’m carrying all that emotional baggage around with me, then I get smacked in the face with a murder and kicked in the teeth by Sergeant Clark. It’s enough to drive anybody around the bend.”

  Alice came over and put her arm around me. “I know,” she said. “And I want to help. But I only can if you’re rational.”

  I put my arm around her waist. “I’m rational.”

  “There’s a difference between horny and rational,” Alice pointed out. When that failed to amuse me, she added, “You’re really upset, aren’t you?”

  “Am I finally getting through to you, Alice?”

  “No. I understand. Sergeant Clark’s on the scene, he has no leads, and he’s barking up the wrong tree. Am I right?”

  “That’s it in a nutshell. Why?”

  “Sure,” Alice said. “With all that happening, I suppose you’ve forgotten.”

  “Forgotten what? Alice, don’t do this to me.”

  “Sorry,” she said. “Isn’t tomorrow the day you invited Richard to the set?”

  “Oh, my god.”

  23.

  IT ONCE OCCURRED TO ME an interesting experiment would be to lock Richard Rosenberg and Sergeant Clark in the same room together for a few days and see who lived.

  To say the two men did not like each other would be putting it mildly. And their dislike was not without foundation. It was, in fact, very specific.

  Sergeant Clark despised Richard for being a negligence lawyer, which he regarded as slightly lower than pond scum. But that was just in general. Specifically, he could point to one particular case where Richard had sued the city of New York on behalf of a client who was alleging police brutality.

  Richard, on the other hand, could point to Sergeant Clark’s not-so-veiled threats to shut down his law practice. Plus, he just naturally liked bopping cops around.

  In short, I could not think of any two men I would have less preferred to see meet on the set of my first motion picture.

  But sure enough, bright and early next morning, who should come striding onto the dock of the Seventy-ninth Street boat basin but everyone’s favorite negligence lawyer, Richard Rosenberg.

  He didn’t meet up with Sergeant Clark though. Clark had not yet put in an appearance. No, the first police officer he ran into was Sergeant MacAullif.

  “You,” Richard said. “What are you doing here? Are you in charge of the investigation?”

  “What investigation?” MacAullif said.

  “Are you kidding me? It was all over the evening news. Boom man goes boom. I’m surprised someone didn’t use that. But there was no official statement. No interview with the officer in charge. So is that you?”

  “Not this time.”

  “So what are you doing here?”

  “Working.”

  “Oh?”

  “On the movie. They hired me as a technical consultant.”

  “You’re kidding,” Richard said. He was grinning from ear to ear. “So you went Hollywood, huh? So who’s in charge?”

  “Well, as to that,” MacAullif said. He looked over at me.

  Richard frowned. “Stanley? What’s the story?”

  And who should come driving up but Sergeant Clark.

  Ever since Alice had mentioned it the night before, I’d been anticipating the meeting of these two people. And I’d built it up so much in my mind that subconsciously I think I expected some kind of reversal—Richard and Sergeant Clark, unbeknownst to me, would have become golf buddies, or have served on the same election committee, or something, but whatever the case they would greet each other like long-lost friends.

  Not quite.

  Richard’s face got as hard as I’ve ever seen it. “Son of a bitch,” he murmured.

  “I would have called you, Richard,” I said, “but I don’t have your home number.”

  “Are you telling me he’s in charge?”

  “Aw, hell.” I sighed and said a silent prayer. Sergeant Clark wouldn’t see him and he’d walk right by.

  No such luck. As Clark came toward us, I could see his eyes widen. He changed pace and direction, strode right up to Richard. The two men stood there, squared off, toe to toe.

  It was quite a sight. They were both small men, scrappy, intense. And standing there, jaws jutted out, eye to eye, they looked like a pair of bantamweights who had just been told to shake hands and come out fighting.

  “Well,” Sergeant Clark said. He cocked his head at me. “So you’ve consulted an attorney. I wasn’t aware we’d even reached the stage where I had to advise you you had that right.”

  “He’s here for the movie,” I said.

  “Aren’t we all?” Sergeant Clark said. “Amazing what one will do for the greater glory of the motion-picture industry.”

  “Am I to assume you’re investigating this crime?” Richard said.

  “You mean they haven’t told you?”

  “I just got here.�
��

  “Yes, I’m investigating the crime. As a matter of fact, I’m investigating them both.”

  I took a breath.

  “Both?” Richard said.

  “Yes. I have two homicides. One yesterday and one two weeks ago.”

  “Two weeks ago?” Richard frowned, looked at me. “Is that the one you told me about? The derelict in the warehouse?”

  “That’s it.”

  “I thought that was a John Doe. Had nothing to do with you.”

  “It doesn’t,” I said.

  “So how’d you get stuck with that?”

  “I don’t consider myself stuck with that,” Clark said. “I consider it a related case.”

  “Related?” Richard said. “Wait a minute. I thought this was something happened before the movie crew even got there.”

  “True. But while they were in possession of keys to the building.”

  Richard’s eyebrows launched into orbit. “Keys to the building? You’re saying the movie crew had not been inside yet, but. they had taken possession of keys to the building?”

  “That’s right. On the day of the crime.”

  “Well, what are you waiting for? Lock them up. Good god, it’s an open-and-shut case.”

  As I said, it’s hard to ruffle Sergeant Clark. He merely cocked his head and said, “From your sarcasm I assume you know absolutely nothing about it.”

  “Actually,” Richard said, “I assume you know absolutely nothing about it. Or am I misinformed? Are you telling me you have identified the body?”

  “So far we have not.”

  “Pardon me, Sergeant,” Richard said, “but wouldn’t that tend to indicate the man was exactly what he appeared to be—a derelict looking for shelter? And most likely done in by another derelict?”

  “At the present time, it’s too early to tell.”

  “Too early to tell? Two weeks and you haven’t identified the body. Doesn’t that tend to indicate the body’s not going to be identified?”