There was a round of chuckles, probably mostly because Gridhorn was the boss rather than real humor, and the crew returned to their work.
Edwina didn’t watch. She had her head turned toward the door, wondering what Gustavson was doing inside their rented warehouse, and wondering what he was planning.
**
Some conversations were never meant to be overheard, but eavesdropping accidentally can open up all sorts of new thoughts.
Edwina had been doing her best to keep her eyes and ears open as she ran seemingly endless errands for Miss Linwood. Bunny seemed perfectly content to let her be the new servant, and for all the extra work to get heaped on Edwina. Even though Edwina had been hired to investigate who was blackmailing the aging actress, Miss Linwood was only too happy to have her fetch and tote for her, if anyone was around to watch.
When Edwina had brought it up to Linwood, she’d gotten a smug smile in return. “We wouldn’t want to let anyone in on our little secret, about who you really are, would we?” Linwood asked. “Then you’d never find out who’s trying to suck my bank account dry.” Bunny was sitting behind her in a rickety wooden chair, pretending not to hear the conversation, and idly flipping through a magazine. After Miss Linwood had asked her to measure a doorway in the storage room, to be sure her dress’ magnificent silk train would be able to slither through without catching on anything, Edwina had taken the cloth tape measure she was handed and nearly stomped out of the dressing room, muttering certain four- letter words under her breath.
Walking through stacked boxes and big panels of fake walls and artificial ceilings, she was doing her best to pick her way toward the Roman arch at the far end of the room when she heard a frantic whispering coming from near the brick wall at the back.
“I’m done, Albert. This can’t go on any longer,”
“Are you kidding?”
She knew that voice. It was Albert Gridhorn, and he sounded frustrated and angry.
The first voice was a woman.
Edwina froze in her tracks, trying to still her breath. Normally she would’ve slowly backed out, not wanting to intrude on other people’s conversations, but she’d already realized that being an investigator meant sometimes she would have to bend the normal social conventions a bit. She needed info, and she wanted to get her paycheck and see the last of Miss Gloria Linwood.
Grimacing a bit, she eased herself down to a crouching position, hoping not to be seen. The wooden boxes next to her made for a perfect cover, and she could only hope the dim lighting from the few lights hung high above in the tall ceiling would help, too.
“No, I’m not kidding.”
It was Serena Norotolova. Edwina had been listening to her fuss over Miss Linwood for the past couple of days, making sure every ruffle and feather on her costume was in place, and trying to placate the actress. There was no mistaking her voice.
Edwina slowly, carefully moved forward just enough to peek around the edge of the stack of boxes between them.
Serena had her arms crossed in front of her, her eyes downcast, as Gridhorn leaned against the brick wall of the warehouse, blocking her path.
Edwina bristled. She hadn’t liked Gridhorn much, and if he was going to be abusive to a woman he was going to see exactly how much of a scrapper Edwina really could be. She’d had a couple of girlfriends who’d had to deal with abusive boyfriends, and anytime they’d needed someone on their side, Edwina had always been front and center.
Serena sniffled a bit, then said, “Look, I’m sorry about this, but after everything that’s happened I just can’t be with you anymore.” Her voice was shaking, and she let out a long, slow breath. “I can’t forget about it. I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”
“Can’t we just move on?” Gridhorn asked, an edge of desperation in his voice. “I mean, things happen. We’re adults. Can’t we just get past this?” He reached over to grab Serena’s hand. “We can start over and try again.” His voice was low, his eyes pleading.
“No, Albert.” She slowly pulled her hand back and straightened up a bit. “We can’t. I’m really sorry, but it’s over.” She paused, and when she spoke again it sounded as if she was going to cry. “It’s not good for either one of us. After all we’ve been through, I can’t see you again.” And without another word, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving Albert Gridhorn standing alone, his shoulders slumped in defeat.
Edwina waited one moment, then two, until she heard Gridhorn mutter something under his breath and then loudly kick the nearest prop, a chest-height column topped by a large plaster urn. It toppled sideways and exploded loudly on the floor, bits of white plaster spreading out like shrapnel.
She clapped a hand across her mouth, as if to silence any sort of sound that might give her away, and it wasn’t until she heard Gridhorn slowly walking away that she realized she hadn’t been breathing.
As his steps receded, she finally straightened up and craned her head around to make sure the coast was clear and she hadn’t been discovered. Finally satisfied, she blew out a deep, slow breath, and pulled the measuring tape out of her pocket.
Thanks for sending me to the storeroom, Miss Linwood, she thought. Whatever she thought about the ridiculous errand she’d been sent on, Edwina had learned another piece of the puzzle.
Serena Norotolova and Albert Gridhorn had once been an item.
And now there was no love lost between them.
**
As she walked out toward the main room with all the film sets, she saw a furtive motion out of the corner of her eye in the darkened hallway. Stopping in her tracks, she held back a bit, her body hidden behind a panel painted to look like brick, when she saw the door to the costumer’s workroom slowly open, and Max poke his head out. He looked both ways, his eyes wide, then he slowly stepped outside. Clicking the door shut behind him, he seemed satisfied that he’d been unseen, and stuffed his hands in his pockets as he walked away, whistling an off-key Cole Porter tune.
And leaving an area he never should’ve been in the first place.
Chapter 14
By mid-afternoon the movie company was set up and ready to shoot the next scene, in an elaborate fake garden, complete with painted trees, a wide swing with flowering vines twined down its ropes, and hundreds of artificial flowers arranged along carefully designed winding paths.
Gloria Linwood was dressed in an elaborate turn-of-the-century gown, made up in dark green silk, with scalloped ruffles on a huge bustle and a parasol to match. The rigid corset under the dress gave her a classic silhouette, but she didn’t seem to approve of how tight everything was on her. Serena was standing to the side of the enormous bustle, retying the lacing at the back of the dress, and talking in a quiet, soothing time to her irritated movie star.
Linwood’s furry co-star was nowhere to be seen.
Gridhorn stood up and raised his megaphone to his mouth. His black-and-white checked wool jacket was buttoned up against the pervasive cold of the warehouse. “Okay, everyone,” he nearly shouted. “Let’s see if we can actually get this scene in the can before the end of the century, pretty please.” Gridhorn stood in front of his director’s chair, megaphone in one hand and the other on his hip in obvious irritation. “Clyde! Where are you?’ Clyde, get yourself out here this minute!”
“What!” came the bellow from behind the wooden wall that was painted to resemble the fake garden’s stone fence. “Geez, Albert. Give me a break, will ya? I’ve been in there editing and have a massive headache. Your screaming doesn’t help it at all. I can only do one thing at a time, you know.”
“Hey, if I knew where you were, I wouldn’t have to yell like that,” Gridhorn said, his face flushed with annoyance. “Have a seat. We need to talk about some of the transitions between scenes.”
Clyde gave a huff of annoyance but plopped down in his folding chair, next to the camera Tanner was adjusting. “Fine, but I need to get back to the office. If you ever took the time to actually check the schedule, Albe
rt, you know I’ve got most of today booked in there.”
Tanner stifled a laugh, then looked embarrassed and darted a glance at Gridhorn. It was well-known that Albert wrote out the schedule himself, and it was posted on the outside of the office door for everyone to see.
“You have something to add, Tanner?” Gridhorn asked, his eyes narrowing, and Tanner looked flustered.
“No, sir, I don’t. I wanted to remind you we’d talked about Wallace taking over for me sometime during the shooting, so he could learn the ropes of being a cameraman during an actual filming. Well, I’ve been working with him for quite a while now, and I’ve run him through his paces. He’s ready; I know it.”
“Fine, Wallace can fill in for you, but just for this one scene, okay?” He glared at Wallace, a pasty-faced lad of 25, with fear-filled eyes and a newsboy cap. “Wallace, don’t mess it up, you hear?”
“Yes…yes, sir!” Wallace gulped, and Tanner smiled with pride.
“He’ll be fine,” he said, then stepped back a bit so Wallace could take control of the camera. “Think I’ll go call the wife and see if she’s feeling any better,” Tanner pronounced, then strode toward the office.
Bunny and Max had joined Edwina at the sides of the set, tucked away from the bright lights and swarming crew, sitting on a Victorian-style sofa that was due to be used in the next scene as a prop. Max was chewing a wooden toothpick, his thin arms crossed over his chest and his gangly legs stretched out in front of him.
“Sheesh! Can you believe this mess?” he said, gesturing to one of the crew rushing to tack extra leaves onto a fake apple tree. “It’s like someone kicked a hill of ants. How can Gridhorn get anything done with this pathetic group?”
“Oh, shut up, Max,” Bunny snapped, her eyes locked on her mistress. “They’re doing the best they can.”
“Serena, this is still too damned tight,” Linwood barked when Serena started to loop the laces together. Serena leaned over and spoke quietly in the actress’ ear, and Linwood gave an exasperated sigh.
“Fine! We can relace it back in my dressing room,” she said, and started walking quickly toward the back hallway as Serena frantically tried to untangle her fingers from the strings.
After ten minutes of last-minute scurrying and fussing over details on the set, the crew slowly settled back in the anonymity of darkness outside the circle of bright lights and waited for their leading lady to return. It was several more minutes before Linwood showed back up, green dress finally laced up to her satisfaction, Serena dutifully trotting along behind her.
“I’m so sorry, Albert. I’m ready to go now,” Linwood said, shooing Serena away as she walked to her mark by a fake chestnut tree.
Edwina watched everyone carefully, trying to see who was most interested in watching Linwood’s reappearance, and trying to put the pieces together in her mind of who might be behind the threatening blackmail letters that had arrived. Since she’d been on the set there hadn’t been any more, but she had a job to do, and she had to complete it before the movie was completed and they closed down the set.
Or before something terrible happened to Gloria Linwood.
“Happy now?” Gridhorn said, a note of sarcasm in his voice, and Linwood gave him a brilliant smile, showing even, white teeth.
“Of course,” she said, watching her costar, the Beast, who had finally shown up. He was scratching his fake fur collar and looking at her pensively. “Thrilled.”
As the actors and crew took their places and Gridhorn called for quiet, then for action, the three people watching from their sofa could see the director putting everyone through their paces.
“See how upset Gridhorn is?” Max hissed quietly to Edwina. “He’s gonna blow a gasket anytime now. His rants are epic.”
“Shhh!” she warned. Everyone knew there was supposed to be no talking during filming, but apparently Max was used to keeping his voice low enough it wasn’t overheard.
“And that beast! Can you believe that? I think the poor guy’s got fleas.”
Edwina suppressed a snicker and tried to look angry when Max looked over to check her reaction.
“And maybe ticks,” Max added.
Edwina was just about to whisper a rebuttal when a high scream echoed throughout the warehouse, then there was a loud bang and a lot of sudden chatter.
“What happened?”
“Is he okay?”
“How did it fall like that?”
“CUT!” Albert yelled, but it was unnecessary and nearly unheard. A group of people had gathered immediately over by the main camera, and Max and Edwina sprang up off the sofa to see what had happened, with Bunny hot on their heels.
As neared the edge of the crowd Edwina could make out a cinderblock, smashed against the thick planks and broken into brittle shards. A sisal rope was still tied around one side of the shattered block, its long length coiled messily on it and near it, as if it had followed the block down when it fell.
“It almost hit me!” Clyde said, running his hands over his knitted sweater vest as though he was checking for injuries. “If I hadn’t leaned over to talk to Albert right when I did, it would’ve hit me square on the head!”
Gloria Linwood pushed her way through the gawking crowd and grabbed both of Clyde’s upper arms. “Are you all right?” she asked, nearly hysterical. “What happened? How did that fall? Are you hurt?”
Wallace and Gridhorn were looking up into the rafters. There had been extra planks and walkways installed as rigging, so scenery and lights could be hung from them. Many of the items strung through the rigging had sandbags or cement blocks as counterweights, so they could easily be moved up and down. Right above the fallen block, the pipe where it would’ve been tied was conspicuously empty. The wooden walkway beside it was vacant.
“It must’ve gotten loose somehow,” Wallace said, and Gridhorn whipped his head around and narrowed his eyes into hard, angry buttons.
“Must’ve gotten loose? Must’ve gotten LOOSE?” he yelled, a familiar purple color creeping up from his collar. “That’s it! I’ve had enough. Everybody out!” Gridhorn roared, the megaphone in his hand shaking with his rage. “I want everyone off the set and out of here! Go home! Go back to your hotels or your girlfriends or wherever you have to go to get away from me! I want you all to go think about how we’re going to pull this steaming pile of cow crud out of the dumpster and make it be a movie to make us some cash, and don’t come back until you’ve got some solid ideas!” He glared at Linwood. “Or have at least learned your lines.”
Linwood was still holding Clyde’s arm, but at the director’s statement she turned on him, dumbfounded.
“Don’t you think we should call the police? Someone did that deliberately! You think something falling like that and almost killing Clyde was some sort of accident?”
“Call the cops?” Gridhorn barked back, squaring off against the actress. “And have them shut us down? Are you crazy?”
He looked over the crew, who was standing around them in an awkward circle, uncertain what to do. “You heard me. All of you, get out! Leave your lunch boxes and such and head for the door.” He nodded toward the security guard. “Gerald, see to it everyone takes their coats and heads out immediately.”
“Right, boss,” Gerald said, and started herding the crew toward the main door.
Tanner walked over from the side of the set. “Are you sure you want to do that, boss? We’re not through with the filming for today. I could stay and help.”
He got a glare in return, and Tanner’s face finally registered his defeat.
Clyde took a deep breath and blew it out slowly, then peeled Gloria Linwood’s red fingernails from his arm. “Albert, I need to stay and do the editing. You want me to see if I can rustle us up some dinner?”
Gridhorn pinched the bridge of his nose with two fingers and closed his eyes in fatigue, or perhaps it was frustration. “No, Clyde, back off. I’m going to do the editing tonight. This whole production’s going out of control,
and it needs a firmer hand on the wheel. I’ll let you see the changes I’ve made tomorrow, but I don’t want them reversed, you hear me?”
“You’re not going to have me go over them? I don’t think that’s a good idea.”
“Well, I do!”
Tanner opened his mouth in rebuttal, then snapped it shut before he finally ground out, “I think you’ll be sorry, Albert.” Edwina could see the anger in his eyes, even as he tried to control it.
“Well, then I’ll be sorry. Now get out.”
Chapter 15
The next morning it was snowing lightly when Edwina drove toward the film set, and she muttered darkly to herself as she eased the chauffeur’s car through the snow-covered streets. Her day hadn’t started off well. Her mother had chosen that morning to sit her down for a chat, and it hadn’t gone well. When she’d insisted Edwina sit with her while she sat the breakfast table and sipped her coffee, Eddie had tried to curb her impatience, but it hadn’t worked. Her mother kept trying to steer the conversation back to how Edwina seemed intent on ruining her life, and asking what she’d done wrong. After the third bout of trying to keep her temper and evade her mother’s prying questions and efforts to install guilt Edwina had finally grabbed her wool hat and said she had to go. She would’ve felt more sympathy for her mother’s emotions if she hasn’t noticed that the one tear her mother had managed to squeeze out seemed artificial, as if it were a prop in some sort of play about blackmail and family fights.
By the time she was near the meatpacking district, it was almost eight o’clock, and she knew she’d be late if she couldn’t pass the other drivers, creeping along at a snail’s pace, hunched over their steering wheels with a look of desperation on their faces.
Veering into a side street, she punched the gas and grinned a bit as the car jerked into high speed. Even though her tires sloshed around a bit in the snow it was a wonderful feeling not to move at the pace of everyone else. She loved the freedom of moving at her own speed.
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