Grimm rushed to her side. “Ms. Victoria, are you all right?"
"Maybe he does love her,” Brett said to Lorelei.
But the situation with Grimm and Victoria was not allowed to develop further because Andrew entered the room. “What the hell's taking so long?” he asked. “I know I threw you a few curves with the tape, but I'm starving to death out here."
"It's all gone terribly wrong,” Victoria said. Her head rested on Grimm's chest.
"Hey, what's the matter, babe?” Andrew said. “Look out, Grimm.” Andrew moved to Victoria's side and took over the job of supporting her. “What's up? Eat something that didn't agree with you?"
Brett said, “Grimm, shouldn't you call the police?"
"I agree completely, sir,” Grimm said. He took out his cell and dialed 911.
"Hey,” Andrew said, “what's going on?"
"Police, please,” Grimm said.
"The police?" Andrew said. “Victoria, what's happening? You can't have me arrested. Every word I said on that tape was the truth."
"I wish to report a murder,” Grimm said into the telephone and he gave the address. “The main entrance is under the green awning. Ask the doorman for the penthouse of Victoria Nation. He'll direct you. We'll also need an ambulance. Heathcoat Grimm. Same address."
Andrew was beside himself. “What murder? What's he talking about? I'm alive, you can all see that. It was a joke. Ha. Ha."
"Thank you,” Grimm said. He ended the call.
"How long will they be?” Victoria asked.
"Only a few minutes, I'm sure, Ms. Victoria."
"What is going on?" Andrew insisted.
"It's Nancy,” Victoria said.
"Oh.” He looked around. “Where is she?"
"If you care to look on the other side of the table."
Now that his attention had been directed, he saw her. “Oh!"
"She was poisoned, Andrew,” Lorelei said.
"What?"
"With cyanide. In her Champagne."
"But, how could that be? How do you get cyanide into a Champagne bottle?"
"It was not in the bottle, sir,” Grimm said. “A compound of cyanide must have been put into Ms. Nancy's Champagne goblet."
"Good God,” Andrew said. “She wasn't my favorite person, for reasons you know, but I'd never wish her...” He seemed visibly to wilt.
Brett said, “Victoria, I've been thinking. Who laid the table?"
"Grimm did. Why?"
But Grimm anticipated why Brett had asked the question. “I most certainly did not introduce a toxin into any of the drinking vessels."
"But it was you who put out the place cards with our names on them, wasn't it?” Lorelei said. “And wasn't the idea of place cards so that you would know exactly who would be sitting where?"
There was a moment in which Grimm was silent, but Victoria said, “As a matter of fact, Lorelei, I put the place cards out myself. I thought it would be amusing if Brett were to sit between me and Nancy. But it was never important."
"And you decided I would have to sit next to Nancy? Even though you know I hated her?” Lorelei said.
Victoria shrugged.
"When did you decide on the seating?"
"This morning. Before I left to meet with the network. I had high hopes for the meeting, and if we were celebrating, I wanted to be sure we did it in style. But I tell you now, Lorelei, Grimm was in the room when I was doing the cards and he'd have seen if I fiddled with any of the goblets."
"I most certainly did not observe Ms. Victoria handling any of the ceramic-ware,” Grimm said, “if that is your implication, Ms. Lorelei."
"Unless you two concocted this together,” Lorelei said.
"But,” Brett said, “people didn't sit where they were supposed to. How could they be sure Nancy would sit where her card was? My card was on Nancy's right, but Andrew insisted on sitting there instead of me."
"Why did you do that, Andrew?” Lorelei asked.
"What I said at the time. When else will I get the chance to sit between a top director and a top producer?” Andrew said. “Besides, Brett sitting between Victoria and Nancy seemed, well, tasteless."
"Where does an over-the-hill, no-talent Lothario like you get off calling me tasteless?” Victoria asked. Of all the accusations that had been directed at her during the evening, this one made her angry.
But Brett had another point. “Did you know that we would be drinking from opaque pottery instead of conventional glasses tonight, Lorelei?"
"Not until I got here and Grimm started serving drinks in those goblets with your face on them,” Lorelei said.
"Neither did I. So neither of us could have planned to kill Nancy, or anyone, by putting something in a glass and waiting for Champagne to be poured on it."
"Well, I had nothing to do with the drinks, or setting the table,” Andrew said. “That was all down to Victoria and Grimm."
"Just a damn minute here,” Victoria said. “If I were going to kill someone I wouldn't use some piddly little poison. I may be English, but I learned how to fire a shotgun even before I learned how to fire an actor."
Brett said, “Grimm?"
"Sir?"
"We know very little about you."
With eyes on him, Grimm only said, “Yes, sir."
"Except that something in your background left you down and out."
Grimm was silent, but anger showed in his eyes.
But before Brett could frame another question, Lorelei said, “Wait, wait. Victoria, was Andrew around while this dinner was being planned?"
Victoria scowled at her soon-to-be-former paramour. “Yes, of course he was. He was part of the show."
"So he could have known about the goblets. You got them from your sister in England, you said. That must have been arranged long ago."
"I ordered them when the pilot got such good numbers. They were delivered last week."
"I knew about all kinds of things, as my tape proves all too clearly,” Andrew said. “That doesn't mean I murdered anybody. By putting poison in a goblet while I was in the living room? Come on."
Brett said, “Grimm, I have a question."
"Mr. Brett?"
"Where exactly on a table is glassware—or goblet-ware—placed? Is it to the right of the dinner plate or to the left?"
"To the right, Mr. Brett."
"To the right,” Brett said, in his best Frankie Almond voice. “Now I was supposed to sit on Nancy's right, but Andrew insisted on taking my place."
"I explained that,” Andrew said.
But a moment of silence was only broken when Victoria said, "Andrew!"
"Victoria?"
"Grimm, grab the little swine."
"What the—” Andrew said as Grimm rapidly and, it must be said, easily restrained the not-so-young actor. “Let me go, Grimm. What is this about? Why are you doing this?"
"Because of you," Victoria said, “Frankie Almond is dead."
"Me? But I just played the part of the dinner guest, the way you wrote it. Well, pretty much."
"Frankie is dead because Nancy is dead and you killed her."
"That's ridiculous. I wasn't even in the room when it happened."
Brett looked puzzled. He even said, “That's true."
But Victoria was not to be derailed. “Lorelei, Brett, Grimm, do you remember how Andrew ‘died'?"
"How?” Lorelei asked. “What do you mean?"
"Do you remember what happened physically when he went through his little death act?"
"Well,” Lorelei said, “he coughed several times and then he had a sort of fit, and then he sprawled over Nancy."
"Who was on his left,” Victoria said. “And, as he draped himself over poor Nancy, what would naturally happen to his right hand? Visualize it."
"It would pass over the area of Nancy's wine goblet!” Lorelei said. “I see it. I see what you mean. And he could easily have dropped something in."
"And before dinner,” Brett said, “he told me
that one of the things he's been doing is some children's magic shows. That could perfectly well mean he's used to doing sleight-of-hand...."
Everyone in the room looked at Andrew. Grimm's grip tightened.
There was a long silence.
"All right," Andrew said at last. “Yes. I did it."
"Oh, Andrew,” Lorelei said.
"Good God,” Brett said.
Victoria just stared.
Grimm's grasp tightened even more.
"Dropping the cyanide in Nancy's goblet was child's play. But she deserved it. She stole my idea. My idea. It would have been the making of me. It would have turned my life around, at last. But no, while you were all partying and planning how you would be spending your Frankie Almond money, I was still living hand-to-mouth, having to cuddle up to old women...."
"How dare you!” Victoria said.
"Having to hire myself out for party tricks. When instead it should have been me, me, playing my own role. Charlie Cashew, Private Eye. Brilliant. Sexy. Witty. Handsome. And rich."
The apartment doorbell rang.
"That will be the police, I believe, Ms. Victoria,” Grimm said.
Copyright © 2009 by Michael Z. Lewin
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EQMM, November 2009 Page 19