Lights! Camera! Puzzles!

by Parnell Hall

  Crowley looked at her.

  “Do you think I should alert Stephanie?” Cora said.

  Crowley looked at her sharply. “Why do you say that?”

  “Well, at this point in most murders you would have some determination. Are you keeping it open so you can interview Angela Broadbent again?”

  “That never crossed my mind.”

  “Oh? Just lodged in there and got stuck, did it?”

  “My God, Cora. You aren’t this catty in your own defense. Are you really defending my girlfriend?”

  “Well, she’s not here to defend herself. Why is that, by the way? A movie’s being filmed. I would think she’d show up.”

  “Oh.”

  “What do you mean, oh?”

  “We had a fight.”

  “Of course you did. Now it all makes sense. You can’t solve the murder because you’re quarreling with your girlfriend.”

  “And you have nothing to contribute.”

  “Contribute? Who’s the homicide officer, here?”

  “I am. And that’s never stopped you before.”

  “I gave you my opinion. The director killed him because he was ruining the movie.”

  Crowley shook his head. “There’s a half a dozen things wrong with that theory.”

  “Like what?”

  “Like everything. He couldn’t have killed him. He was in a meeting with you.”

  “He killed him before the meeting. When he went to talk to him in his trailer.”

  “He couldn’t have done it. He talked to him on the phone during the meeting.”

  “He faked the phone call.”

  “We have the phone company records.”

  “Do they show he made the phone call?”

  “We don’t have them yet.”

  “Then what do you mean, you have them?”

  “I mean they exist. I can’t believe he’d lie about something that can be that easily checked.”

  “Well, say he did.”

  “But he didn’t. The guy was alive. He came out of his trailer and told the gofer girl he got the call.”

  “So she says. She could be lying.”

  “Why would she lie?”

  “Any number of reasons. She knew she was in trouble for coming, so she made up a story so she’d have an excuse for leaving the trailer.”

  “That’s lame as hell.”

  “So, what’s your theory?”

  “I haven’t got a theory.”

  “Exactly. You want to know mine. I give it to you, and you start griping.”

  “I’m not griping. I just want to hear something that makes sense.”

  “It doesn’t make sense because you’re not talking to Stephanie.”

  “I said we were taking a break.”

  “Oh, you are talking?”

  “Don’t be stupid.”

  “I’m not being stupid. You’re the one letting a personal relationship get in the way of your solving a crime.”

  Crowley’s mouth fell open. He spread his arms wide in exasperation. “Who says I’m doing that?”

  “Every twitch of your body says you’re doing that. You really should take care of it, officer. It’s going to hurt your career.”

  38

  The high-fashion fabric store on Bleecker Street bore little resemblance to the tie-dye tapestry shop it had been before. Stephanie had made the change seamlessly into the modern age. She still might have the heart of a hippie, but she had the efficiency of a savvy businesswoman.

  When Cora came into the shop, Stephanie was at the computer, calling up vistas of design for a well-to-do customer. Cora got the feeling the young woman had come into the shop for drapes, and was leaving with a complete architectural makeover.

  When the customer finally left the shop Cora said, “So, what did you sell her on?”

  “I don’t think she’s really interested in furnishings,” Stephanie said, “but I planted ideas in her head, let her bring them up, and then congratulated her on thinking of them. She’s convinced she’s a savant when it comes to interior decoration.”

  “You’re diabolical. Do you use that ploy on men?”

  Stephanie smiled. “Are you thinking of any man in particular?”

  “I’m thinking of a man you can let your hair down for, parade around in nothing but a cotton shift over your scrawny body—which I hate you for, by the way—someone as comfortable as that.”

  “He told you we had a fight?”

  “You had a fight? Really? I’m so sorry to hear it.”

  “I’ll bet.”

  “Can you close the shop and go to lunch?”

  “I’ll have to check with the boss.”

  “Isn’t that you?”

  “Damned if it isn’t.”

  Cora and Stephanie had brunch at a small café up the block. It was late for lunch, but they had coffee and croissants. The croissants were large, moist, rich, and to die for. Stephanie had two of them.

  Cora shook her head. “You can’t eat like that and keep your figure.”

  Stephanie smiled like a contented cat. “Not fair, is it?”

  Crowley and Stephanie had been on a break when Cora started her affair with him. When Cora learned of her existence it had been a shock in more ways than one. Stephanie was the first “other woman” Cora had ever actually liked. When Stephanie and Crowley were together, the three of them got along just fine.

  “You have to patch it up,” Cora said.

  “I have to patch it up? Why does it have to be me?”

  “Because guys are stupid. It may be entirely their fault, but you just got to get around that.”

  “It’s not like you to butt in, Cora. Well, it is, but this seems out of the blue. What’s the story?”

  “Crowley has a murder investigation. I’m not sure he’s thinking straight.”

  “You think he needs relaxing?”

  “In a big way.”

  “And you came to get me. Instead of moving in to relax him yourself.”

  “Well there’s a wrinkle.”

  “Who is she?”

  “Who said it was a woman?”

  “Would you be here if it wasn’t?”

  Cora gave her a rundown of the murder and explained the Angela Broadbent situation.

  Stephanie understood perfectly.

  “So, you don’t want to compete with the movie star. You want me to compete with the movie star.”

  “You going to be there?”

  “With bells on.”

  39

  It was not to be. The crew got the late word that without Fred playing Melvin, EXT: EMPIRE STATE BUILDING–DAY could not be shot, and the location had been changed to an emergency cover set, EXT: CUSHMAN’S BAKE SHOP–DAY, a present day scene involving Present Day Cora and Melvin, so Fred was not needed.

  Angela Broadbent wasn’t needed either, which was wreaking havoc with the schedule, as she had only a limited number of days to shoot before going back to her sitcom. The producer, the writer, and the production manager were rumored to be holed up somewhere rewriting the script and the schedule.

  Stephanie didn’t come to the set. As it was in Bakerhaven, there was only a fifty-fifty chance Sergeant Crowley would show up, and no chance Angela Broadbent would. In her cattier days, Cora would have thought the two of them were shacked up somewhere. It occurred to Cora, these were her cattier days.

  The townspeople were tremendously disappointed. A movie and a murder had come to town, and the movie star and the investigating officer weren’t there.

  The only one who showed up was Rick Reed, Channel 8’s clueless on-camera reporter. He was there with his news van and camera crew, hoping for an exclusive interview, but with the actors and director holed up inside the shop and the police not on the scene, the best he could do was snag Cora Felton.

  “This is Rick Reed, Channel 8 News, and I’m talking to Cora Felton, the Puzzle Lady, in front of Cushman’s Bake Shop in Bakerhaven, where her feature film, Confessions of a Trop
hy Husband: My Life with the Puzzle Lady, is being filmed.” Rick smiled. “That’s a bit of a mouthful for a movie title, isn’t it?”

  “That’s the general consensus, Rick. The script calls it Untitled Puzzle Lady Project. I’m sure they’ll come up with something.”

  “Miss Felton, tragedy struck the set of your movie yesterday, with the murder of the actor playing your husband, Melvin.”

  Cora nodded approvingly. “Way to bury the lede, Rick. I guess you had that question about the title all set, and couldn’t bear to waste it. Yes, the young actor playing the part of Melvin was killed yesterday at the movie set. But it was not necessarily a murder. There is every reason to believe it could have been suicide.”

  “Well, that would be disappointing, wouldn’t it, you being the Puzzle Lady and all. A murder would be right up your alley.”

  “A murder would be equally tragic, Rick. In either case we have a young man in the prime of his life, cut down on the verge of his big breakthrough.”

  “That’s what I don’t understand. Why would a young man so successful in his career take his own life?”

  “I certainly hope you figure it out, Rick.”

  Cora patted him on the cheek, and ducked through the door of the bake shop. Sandy and the actors were inside. The scene they were setting up involved a continuous shot beginning inside the bake shop, and tracking outside into the street. Sandy was using the Steadicam instead of a dolly, so the track for the camera didn’t actually have to be built and the scene could be shot by the cameraman walking backward, guided by two assistants, and shooting a handheld camera as they went out the door.

  It was still a difficult shot, particularly since it was a dialogue scene, with the actress playing Cora babbling the whole way as they walked.

  This bothered Cora in more ways than one. She couldn’t believe she babbled like that. And she couldn’t believe she looked like that. Thelma Blevins, the actress playing Present Day Cora, though a good twenty years younger, had been made up to look older. As with most young actresses playing character roles, she had gone overboard, exaggerating the age, and the result was not flattering.

  “What are you so cranky about?” Melvin said. The real Melvin, not the actor playing him, who was close to his actual age, which bothered Cora no end. He hardly needed any makeup at all, whereas Thelma’s seemed to come from a Halloween bag labelled Hollywood Hag.

  “People are getting killed around me, and you think I look cranky?” Cora said.

  “You know and I know that’s not it. You’ve had people killed around you. Hell, you’ve killed people around you. If you’re not happy with your movie just let me know. I’m here to cater to your every whim.”

  The first A.D. yelled, “Lock it up!” The sound mixer rang bells. The gofers stopped people from moving on the sidewalk. And Chief Harper, Officer Dan Finley, and Officer Sam Brogan stopped traffic, which was somewhat pathetic. There was only one car, and the three of them managed to stop it.

  Inside the bake shop Sandy yelled, “Action!”

  Through the window, Present Day Cora could be seen, yapping away and waving a cappuccino as she headed for the door, with Melvin trailing along behind.

  The cameraman came out the door walking backward, managed not to trip over the door stoop, and turned onto the sidewalk. Cora and Melvin came out behind him, Cora talking a blue streak.

  “I don’t understand why you’re in town. You have no bimbo in tow. You always have a bimbo in tow. Here you are, tow-less.”

  “Did it ever occur to you I might have troubles?”

  “You always have troubles. You were born troubled. You’re a shimmering mass of trouble. I can’t believe you’re hung up on me. I have moved on.”

  Thelma Blevins tripped over a line, broke character, and launched into a burst of profanity that would have shocked most small town citizens. The Bakerhaven residents, used to Cora’s own tirades, barely batted an eye.

  It suddenly occurred to Cora that the camera was still rolling. She wondered if Sandy might get the idea of leaving Thelma Blevins’s outburst in. She wasn’t sure if he was shooting for an R rated picture or a PG-13.

  The production manager arrived while they reset the shot. At least he tried to arrive. Sam Brogan stopped him in the middle of the street. A standoff ensued, until Chief Harper stepped in and guided the man to a parking space.

  Chuck erupted from his car, angry but elated. “We’re back on schedule!” he announced to no one in particular, since Sandy had gone back into the bake shop.

  “We’re on bells!” the first A.D. admonished.

  Chuck ignored him and pushed on by into the bake shop. Cora followed.

  “We’re all set,” he told Sandy. “Betsy will print up some pages, and we’re good to go. Tomorrow’s scene at the Riverside Flower Garden is cut and we’ll be doing the one we lost today at the Empire State Building.”

  “You got Melvin?”

  “Flying in tonight. We faxed him the pages.”

  “It’s on the schedule?”

  “Call sheet’s being printed up now.”

  “You got Melvin?” Cora said.

  Sandy’s smile was smug. “Steve Hawkins from that Netflix series. Not as big a name as Angela, but a good actor.”

  “How’d you get him so quick?”

  “It’s the movies. Time is money.”

  Cora frowned. It was the type of non-answer that put her on high alert.

  What was the deal with Steve Hawkins?

  40

  crowley was at the Empire State Building. So was Stephanie. Fascinating though that meeting might be, Cora was more interested in Steve Hawkins.

  Cora had Googled him the night before. His Netflix series, now in its second season, was an action-packed crime drama, with Steve Hawkins playing a not-quite-corrupt homicide detective, with a habit of shooting bad guys rather than bringing them in. He was younger and better-looking than Melvin had ever been. Makeup had to tone him down a bit to match Angela Broadbent. Cora wondered if she noticed.

  By the time he got to the set, certain things had changed. For one thing, he had his own trailer. The bit parts and extras would have to share the other.

  For another thing, his arrival had apparently been publicized, as the crowd behind the police rope today was predominantly what Cora had once called teenyboppers. She wondered if they still were.

  Stephanie caught up with Cora in front of the coffee cart.

  “I thought I might find you here. Crowley’s interviewing the director. Don’t you want to listen in?”

  “I didn’t want to cramp your style.”

  “I have no style,” Stephanie said. “It’s my first day on the set, and I’m here to watch the shooting.”

  “Just a movie groupie.”

  “That’s right. Any chance of seeing a film star?”

  “I would say a good one, or Crowley wouldn’t be here.”

  Stephanie’s eyes twinkled. “Oh, nice one.”

  “Hey, I gotta get some fun out of this flick. I’m not enjoying the story much.”

  “Hits too close to home?”

  “Oh, God, I hope not. I couldn’t have been that bad, could I?”

  “I haven’t seen it yet.”

  “A meaningless, ‘of course,’ wouldn’t have served?”

  Crowley came out of the director’s trailer. “Well, how are my two favorite girls?”

  “Bite me,” Stephanie said cheerfully.

  “What’d you want with the director?” Cora said.

  “I happen to have this crime to solve.”

  “What’d you want to know?”

  “About this Steve Hawkins. He got him awfully fast.”

  “What did he say?”

  “Something like time is money.”

  “You like that answer?”

  “Not very helpful.”

  “It’s the same one he gave me.”

  “He made the phone call, by the way.”

  “What phone call?”
>
  “To the actor. Saying he was coming over. The phone records verify the call. So I’m afraid he’s innocent, and your picture will go on shooting as scheduled.”

  “Who says I want to stop the picture? I’m an associate producer. I have a financial stake.”

  Angela Broadbent came out of her trailer. “Solve the crime yet, Sergeant?”

  “I’m working on it.”

  Her eyes lit on Stephanie. “Don’t believe we’ve met.”

  “Angela, this is Stephanie,” Cora said. “She’s Sergeant Crowley’s girlfriend.”

  “Not at the moment,” Stephanie said.

  Angela smiled. “Really? Interesting dynamic.”

  “Yes, it is,” Stephanie said. “You have people murdered on your movies often?”

  “First time.”

  “It’s always special the first time, isn’t it?” Stephanie said.

  “You’re wicked. I like you. Are you an actress?”

  “No.”

  “I didn’t think so. Or I wouldn’t be such a novelty to your boyfriend.”

  “Oh, you’re good too.”

  “I am so glad I’m not dating anyone at the moment,” Crowley said.

  “Dating?” Angela said. “What a quaint word.”

  “He’s an old man. He doesn’t know the new ones.”

  Crowley shook his head. “And I thought solving crimes was hard.”

  Angela smiled. “He is cute.”

  “Very,” Stephanie said. “Which doesn’t mean he’s not dangerous. If you’re guilty, he’ll get you. There are precedents. Columbo. Raskolnikov.”

  “Raskolnikov was the killer.”

  “I can’t remember the name of the cop.”

  “Not very flattering, is it?”

  “What are you filming today?” Crowley broke in.

  “Oh,” Angela said. Then, as if addressing a small child. “This is the Empire State Building, Sergeant.”

  “That’s very helpful,” Crowley said dryly. “What scene are you shooting here?”

  “Cora is recreating the end of Sleepless in Seattle. That’s a movie, Sergeant, with Tom Hanks and Meg Ryan.”

  “And they’re recreating An Affair to Remember. I thought the action was up top.”

  “It will be after lunch,” Angela said. “We’re shooting the sidewalk scene while they set up.”