Lights! Camera! Puzzles!

by Parnell Hall

  “There isn’t.”

  “Does Crowley agree with that assessment?”

  “If there were anything that indicated these murders were staged, he’d be the first to alert me.”

  “Staged.”

  “What?”

  “Well, one took place on a stage, didn’t it? Suppose someone involved in the movie had to kill the girl.”

  “The boyfriend’s not involved in the movie.”

  “Someone involved in the movie doesn’t want the investigation involved in the movie. So they take the boyfriend, who conveniently shows up at the theater, and get him to confess and kill himself, wrapping everything up nice and tidy. Let the filming begin!”

  “It’s a pretty scenario, Becky, but I think you’re getting seduced by the movie business. Not everything is a movie.”

  “So you say. I think the lady doth protest a bit too much. What if you could have saved her?”

  “That’s not funny. Making fun of the poor girl’s tragedy.”

  “I’m serious. You could have saved her.”

  “How?”

  “By not coming on the picture.”

  “That’s ridiculous.”

  “Oh, is it? Your showing up at the auditions precipitates her death.”

  “How?”

  “How should I know? I wasn’t at the auditions. But you were. What happened because you were there?”

  “Absolutely nothing.”

  “You only say that because you reject the premise. Was the victim at the audition when you were at the audition?”

  “I suppose so.”

  “You suppose so?”

  “There were gofer girls. They were bringing people up on stage. I couldn’t tell if she was there, or if the other one was there, or if they both were there. I had other things on my mind.”

  “What did you have on your mind?”

  “The women reading for the part. Which was Present Day Cora. Which I now understand is actually Old Cora.”

  “Which has blinded you to other details, I quite understand. When the actresses were reading, before the girl died and you made this momentous discovery—”

  “You want a fat lip?”

  “Was the audition affected in any way by the fact that you were there?”

  “No, how could it have been?”

  “You’re the Puzzle Lady. These women were reading for the Puzzle Lady, in fact they were reading for the Present Day Puzzle Lady, which is what you are. Wouldn’t encountering the real thing register with them? Could that not, in some way, have changed the outcome of the audition which you attended?”

  “What the hell are you doing? I thought you were my attorney.”

  “It’s called opposition research. I take the position of someone trying to refute your story. If I were to ask you these questions, what would you say to that?”

  “Bite me.”

  “I’m sorry, I’m afraid that’s a self-serving declaration of no evidentiary value. Do you have any other grounds for believing your presence had nothing to do with the proceedings?”

  “You mean had nothing to do with this girl that I may or may not have seen and her unfortunate demise? If her boyfriend didn’t kill her, I have no idea who did, and his subsequent murder would be the only interesting factor.”

  “There you are,” Becky said. “You put your finger right on it. If her boyfriend were murdered and framed for her murder, it would be interesting. Now, could your appearance at the audition have precipitated that?”

  Cora said something that could be considered, at best, inadmissible, and, at worst, contempt of court.

  16

  Melvin called that afternoon. “We got her!”

  “Who?”

  “Cora.”

  “Which one?”

  “Oh. Present day Cora.”

  “That’s the smaller part.”

  “Smaller in size, maybe. But equally important.”

  “Is that how it was presented to her?”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “You sound grumpy.”

  “Is that right?”

  “You don’t show up for auditions. And you don’t even care who we cast.”

  “I do care who we cast.”

  “Really? Who did we cast?”

  “How the hell should I know?”

  “See? You didn’t even ask. What’s going on?”

  “I spent yesterday at a crime scene. It wasn’t pleasant.”

  “Crime scene?”

  “Yes.”

  “You mean the boyfriend?”

  “That’s right.”

  “You’re saying it wasn’t suicide?”

  “Suicide’s a crime.”

  “You know what I mean. You think someone killed him?”

  “I think it’s a good possibility.”

  “Why?”

  “Because it would be so convenient if it wasn’t.”

  Melvin could hear cheering in the background. “What are you doing?”

  “Watching a Yankee game on TV.”

  “You’re kidding.”

  “I like the Yankees.”

  “Damn it, Cora. Are you washing your hands of the picture?”

  “Not at all. I’m taking a step back and looking at it from a new perspective.”

  “Okay. Well, I just thought I’d call,” Melvin said casually, as if he were about to hang up.

  “Hold on, hold on. Who’s the actress?”

  “Oh, you are interested in the actress?”

  Cora called Melvin a few choice names that probably wouldn’t make it into the script.

  “Thelma Blevins.”

  “I never head of her, Melvin. Why are you so happy?”

  “She’s really good. Did an independent film last year. With Matthew McConaughey. Got a ton of favorable reviews.”

  “Anybody see it?”

  “That’s not the point. They’re not casting her for her name.”

  “When do I get to see her?”

  “She’s here now. Of course, you have that Yankee game.”

  “Well, I might drop by.”

  Cora broke all existing speed records to New York.

  17

  Thelma Blevins was about forty, with straight black hair, cut in bangs, and a round baby face with a tantalizing smile. She was also skinny as a rail. Cora didn’t know whether to be flattered or insulted.

  Thelma rushed up to Cora as soon as she spotted her. “Oh, thank goodness you’re here! I like to get into character. It’s not often you get to meet the person you’ll be playing.”

  “Well, you be careful,” Cora said. “You get any more into character they won’t be able to tell us apart.”

  Thelma tittered gleefully. “Oh, you’re wicked!” she said. “They told me you were wicked. I’m already trying to copy your mannerisms.”

  Cora hoped a mad titter wasn’t one of them. “Really? And how have you been studying my mannerisms?”

  “I’ve been watching your TV ads.”

  That struck a sour note since Cora’s TV ads weren’t running anymore.

  At that moment Sandy swooped down on them. He framed them with his fingers as if lining up a shot. “Oh, my God. Which one of them is Cora? Can I pick ’em, or can I pick ’em?”

  “You can definitely pick ’em,” Thelma said.

  There was something in her tone that Cora recognized. She had used it herself when talking to young men with whom she was secretly having a liaison. The reason for the casting of so inappropriate an actress was becoming clear.

  Sandy was beaming. “I see you two have met.”

  “Ah, yes,” Thelma said. “We’ve already been having a nice conversation. I’m picking up pointers.”

  Cora smiled sweetly at Sandy. “So this is present day Cora. When are you casting prepubescent Cora?”

  Melvin swooped in. “Ah, look, my two girls getting together. Is this good, or not?”

  Cora pulled Melvin aside.
“Sandy’s shtupping the actress.”

  Melvin looked at her in surprise. “What’s your point?”

  “That’s why he cast her.”

  “Oh, course he did. What’s the use being the director if you don’t get some of the perks?”

  “Melvin—”

  “Cora, are you really that naïve? How do you think movies are made?”

  “I know how movies are made. Believe it or not, I have heard of the casting couch. Usually it has some vague relation to the script.”

  “I’m sure Thelma intends to do the script.”

  “Playing what? The Cora from Never Never Land where Puzzle Ladies don’t grow up? If he has to shag an actress, why couldn’t he hit on the younger one?”

  “Oh, I’m sure he will.”

  “You gotta be kidding. The actress playing that girl’s younger version is yet to be born.”

  “Don’t be silly. Didn’t you ever hear of movie magic?”

  “Sure, in sci-fi movies.”

  “Trust me, it will be fine.”

  Cora’s eyes widened. “I can’t believe you said that.”

  “What?”

  “‘Trust me.’ The words that are synonymous with, ‘Your replacement has been hired and security guards are on their way to escort you off the lot.’”

  “Okay, you do know show business. But really, Cora, you gotta calm down. We’re only casting. By the time we start shooting this thing you’ll be a nervous wreck.”

  “Are you sorry you got me the job?”

  “Don’t be silly. You’re crucial to the project. We couldn’t do it without you.”

  An actress on stage muffed a line and shot them an evil eye.

  Melvin winced, put his finger to his lips. “Shh. We’re interrupting the audition.”

  Cora frowned. “What audition? Sandy’s right here.”

  “She’s auditioning for Howie.”

  “Howie?”

  “Howard B. Prescott. The producer. She’s reading for him.”

  “For what part?”

  “Cora.”

  “The other Cora?”

  “No, this one.”

  “The part’s already cast.”

  “Yeah, but a lot of people came to read, so we have to let ’em read.”

  “Are you kidding me? I know how it works. The winners go for drinks, and the gofers send the losers home.”

  “Yeah, but these actresses were invited. You can’t ask them to come in just to tell them they aren’t wanted.”

  “Did you tell any of them the part was filled?”

  “I don’t see what purpose that would serve.”

  “And they’re happy just reading for the producer?”

  “Why not?”

  Cora’s eyes widened. “Do they know Sandy’s the director?”

  “I don’t know what these women know. We got our Cora. I called you, you got here in twenty minutes flat. Things are happening fast.”

  “I don’t believe it. He’s got his own little casting couch going. For a part that’s already cast.”

  “Nothing’s set in stone. Contracts aren’t signed. We’re still in preproduction. We could lose an actress, gain an actress. It’s good to have an understudy.”

  “You haven’t stammered so eloquently since I caught you with that keno waitress. What are you so guilty about?” Cora’s eyes widened again. “Are you auditioning them too?”

  Melvin was saved from having to answer by the arrival of Sergeant Crowley. He came tromping down the aisle with all the grace of a bulldozer. He seemed grim, remarkable, since he always looked grim.

  The actress up on stage stopped reading and looked up in exasperation. “Oh, for Christ’s sake!”

  Crowley ignored her, addressed the room. “Glad you’re all here. There’s been a development in the case. I should say cases. We now have two. Patrick Monahan didn’t die from jumping out his window. He was hit over the head with a blunt object.”

  “Isn’t the sidewalk a blunt object?” Melvin said.

  “Yes, but it isn’t rounded steel.”

  “What is?”

  “A fireplace poker.”

  “Patrick Monahan had a fireplace?” Cora said incredulously.

  “No, but he had a poker. Perhaps a souvenir from another production. Perhaps the killer brought it with him.”

  “Up five flights of stairs?” Cora said.

  “I’m not saying it happened. The killer most likely used whatever was on hand.”

  The actress had stopped trying to read and was standing with her script at her side.

  The producer got up from his table and came over. “Could you take it outside? We’re trying to audition.”

  “For a part that’s already cast?” Cora said.

  “Huh?” Crowley said.

  “We have a number of actresses waiting to read,” Howard said. “Could you please take it outside?”

  “No, but thank you for asking,” Crowley said. He pulled his shield out of his pocket, held it up. “NYPD. Murder investigation. Surely you remember.”

  “Hey,” Thelma said. “What have I gotten myself into?”

  “And who are you?”

  “Thelma Blevins. I’m going to play Cora.”

  Crowley looked her up and down skeptically. “At what?”

  “I thought the investigation was settled,” Howard said.

  “It turns out the boyfriend was also killed, which casts some doubt on whether he killed her. Which throws all you guys back in the mix. If you want to cooperate, I’ll be as accommodating as possible. If you want to push me around, I’ll shut you guys down. Are we clear?”

  The producer looked like he’d just been told there was no Santa Claus. He blinked twice and said, “What can we do to help?”

  “Take a short break from what you’re doing and round up the usual suspects. In particular, anyone who was here on the day the girl was killed. You do that for me, and we’ll get through this as efficiently as possible.”

  It took about ten minutes while the hopeful actresses were put on hold in the lobby and the movie crew was assembled. Chuck, the production manager, nearly had a stroke at the threat of a shutdown, and lost no time whipping everyone into action.

  Crowley addressed the group. “Patrick Monahan is a murder. There is no longer the possibility that he killed her and then killed himself. They were both killed, which means the killer is still at large. If this had anything to do with the movie—” Crowley put up his hand. “No, there is no reason to think it did. But in that event, you should all be on your guard. Since we don’t know why this happened, we don’t know who might be next. So keep your eyes open, cooperate with the policemen investigating the crime, and report anything suspicious that you see.”

  “What are you telling the press?” Chuck wanted to know.

  “We’re not telling them anything.”

  “Is that wise?” Sandy said. “If there is a murderer out there, wouldn’t it be good to advertise that we were on to him?”

  “It would be good if anyone actually was,” the production manager said. “The way I understand it, you haven’t got a clue.”

  “We’re learning more every day,” Crowley said. “We now know it wasn’t a murder/suicide. All of you should wrack your memory for anything that might throw any light on the situation. We’ll take it from there.”

  “We didn’t know the young man at all,” the producer said.

  “I was referring to Karen Hart.”

  “We didn’t know her either,” Sandy said.

  “She worked for you,” Crowley said.

  “Lots of people work for us,” Chuck said. “A movie crew has eighty people. They’re not all here yet, but we’re taking on more every day, and, trust me, it’s not easy keeping everyone straight. Yes, I hire them, but I don’t delve deeply into their personal life, and I’m not likely to do a background check on production assistants. If someone wants to be a gofer, there’s a good chance they get a job. I remember hiring the girl
, but I’m damned if I remember seeing her since. Of course I’m not on the set, I’m in the production office, but I think I speak for all of us when I say I don’t know anything about this gofer girl that is going to help your investigation.”

  Sandy put up his hand to calm his production manager down. “I think we all agree with that. At least, I think that’s everyone’s initial reaction, but that’s not the point. The police have a job to do, and the sooner we let them do it, the sooner they’ll conclude this unfortunate event has nothing to do with us, and they’ll go on and pursue other lines of inquiry. So I’m asking all of you, whatever you may feel about this, to give the sergeant your complete cooperation.”

  “I appreciate that,” Crowley said. “We now know the boyfriend was killed, and he had nothing to do with the movie, so most likely his death had nothing to do with the movie. Which opens up the possibility that the death of his girlfriend may also have nothing to do with the movie. But we have to make sure.”

  “Of course,” Sandy said.

  Cora would have been willing to make book that no one on the movie believed that for a minute.

  18

  The other shoe fell at two-forty-five the next afternoon. Everyone knew it was coming. An excited buzz had been running through the theater ever since lunch.

  She came quietly without fanfare, just an ordinary woman in a drab kaki overcoat and hat, exuding all the charm of a scullery maid. She slipped in the back door and followed the gofer meekly up the aisle.

  Sandy wasn’t about to let her get away with it. He leapt from his chair and plastered on a thousand watt smile. “Angela, sweetie, so glad you could make it. I can’t thank you enough for dropping by.”

  The actress who’d been cut off in mid-audition stopped to glare angrily, before realizing who it was. Her features twisted in an obligatory smile.

  Sandy grabbed Angela by the arm, said, “This is such an honor, believe me. Let me introduce you to Cora Felton. She’s here so you can meet her, but she can leave before you read if you prefer, just let me know.”

  Angela’s smile managed to come off as gracious and put-upon. It occurred to Cora the woman must be quite an actress, though entirely too meek and self-effacing for the part.

  Sandy led the actress up to her. “Angela, this is the Puzzle Lady, Cora Felton. And this, of course, is Angela Broadbent.”