Lights! Camera! Puzzles!

by Parnell Hall

  LET ME TEAR

  LOVE APART

  “Why am I looking at this?”

  “It’s a crossword puzzle.”

  “I can see it’s a crossword puzzle.”

  “It was found when the first girl was killed.”

  “On the body?”

  “No, not on the body.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  “Join the club. I had it in my purse. I just remembered it this afternoon. After we finished filming. You’d gone home. Sherry wasn’t there. I took it to Stephanie.”

  “She knows you can’t do crosswords?”

  “Right. So I dragged Crowley down there and got her to solve it. This is the result.”

  “I still don’t understand.”

  “I ended up solving their relationship. Turns out I’m a great couples counselor. When I left, Crowley stayed.”

  “No wonder you’re pissed.”

  “I was trying to get them back together again.”

  “Be careful what you wish for. No wonder you can’t sleep.”

  “Yeah. So I’m back to square one, and I’ve gotta solve this damn crime so I can stop seeing Crowley on the set every day and be reminded what a good sport I am.”

  Becky shook her head. “And you’re still drinking Diet Coke? That’s commitment.”

  “I got family now. I can’t let Jennifer see how Auntie Cora used to be.”

  “Okay, what do I have to do to get you to leave me alone and go back to sleep?”

  Cora took a breath and put up her hands. “I have one dead girl too many and it’s messing up the whole equation. Without her it might make sense. With her, I’m totally lost.”

  “Who is the extra girl?”

  “The first gofer girl killed. Karen Hart. Her murder makes no sense. That’s why I had hopes for the crossword puzzle. It occurred to me it could be part of a publicity stunt.”

  “A publicity stunt?”

  “The gofer girl is killed. A crossword puzzle is discovered on the set of a Puzzle Lady movie. It’s a big story. It’s huge publicity.”

  “It didn’t happen.”

  “No, because the writer found the crossword puzzle by accident and gave it to me, totally blowing the gig.”

  “But the girl was killed anyway.”

  “Yes. Having planned the crime, the killer goes through with it, even though it’s not the best of all possible worlds. Still it’s murder on the Puzzle Lady movie. With the Puzzle Lady investigating.”

  “But you weren’t investigating.”

  “No, I ruined everything by wanting nothing to do with it. A once glorious publicity stunt dies a slow death.”

  “That’s incredibly callous.”

  “Thank you.”

  “No, I don’t believe someone would do that.”

  “Good girl. That’s what I wanted to hear. Tell me why not.”

  Becky took a sip of scotch. “Because it’s too stupid for words. Say someone is demented enough to plan this whole fiasco. They’d bail the minute the crossword puzzle goes astray, and come up with something else. They’re not stupid enough to plow ahead.”

  “Damn.”

  “What?”

  “That wrecks my other theory.”

  “What’s that?”

  “The director knocked the light over and hired a bodyguard for himself as a publicity stunt, just as killing the first gofer girl was meant to be a publicity stunt. Take that away and there’s no connection. You have a series of unrelated crimes.”

  “Not if the second gofer girl was killed to cover up the actor’s murder.”

  “That still leaves the first gofer girl unaccounted for. And nothing remotely connects her.”

  “Except the fact she was a gofer girl.”

  “Good point. Gofer boys don’t get killed. Gofer girls do.”

  “So what’s the difference?”

  Cora’s eyes widened. “No one’s sleeping with gofer boys.”

  71

  Melvin was surprised to find Cora knocking on his hotel room door at two in the morning.

  “Hoping to catch me with a bimbo?”

  “They’re all dead,” Cora said, and pushed by him into the room.

  Melvin trailed along behind. He was sleeping in his boxer shorts, for which Cora was grateful. She didn’t want to deal with a naked Melvin.

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Melvin said.

  Cora threw herself into a chair. “You know damn well what I’m talking about. The gofer girls. You slept with both of them, didn’t you? Easy pickings for an executive producer.”

  “Are you still bitching about that?”

  “Bitching? That’s not bitching. You wanna hear bitching?”

  Melvin put up his hand. “Trust me, I’ve heard.”

  “Then knock it off. We were talking about the gofer girls. You slept with Melinda, the one who just got killed. And you slept with Karen Hart, who got killed way back when.”

  Melvin smiled, his cocky, macho smile. “What’s your point?”

  “My point is I should have seen it before, knowing you. But you’re the one I need to solve this crime.”

  “Great,” Melvin said. “I can write this up. I don’t know if it’s enough for a book, but it’s a magazine article for sure.”

  “It’s nothing if we don’t solve this crime. If this movie comes out with a cloud over its head, it’s going to be tough to publicize it.”

  “Sometimes the opposite is true.”

  “Don’t start,” Cora said. “The first gofer girl. No one can get a handle on who might have killed her and why.”

  “Her boyfriend. In a fit of jealous rage. He thought she was sleeping around, and, surprise, surprise, she was.”

  “No, if her boyfriend killed her it’s dull as dishwater, and no one will want to read about it. You still wanna push that theory?”

  “Well, better him than me.”

  “No one thinks you did it, Melvin. At least, I don’t, and I’ve saved you from the hangman before. So cut me some slack. If the boyfriend didn’t do it, who did?”

  “I have no idea.”

  “Neither do I. In spite of the crossword puzzle.”

  “What?”

  “I thought it had something to do with the crime, so I got it solved. Which was a major pain in the ass. And now I can’t figure out what it means, and where it came from and whether it has anything to do with anything. There’s just no damn explanation for it, and that’s driving me crazy.”

  Melvin’s face betrayed him.

  Cora’s mouth fell open. “Are you kidding me?”

  “Cora.”

  “How could you do that?” Cora said incredulously. “It was a horribly cruel thing to do.”

  “I wanted you on the picture. I figured it wasn’t going to be easy to interest you.”

  “So you present me with a crossword I don’t know how to solve in front of the very people I have to keep that from?”

  “You’re good at it.”

  “Hiding my lack of expertise? I’ve had a lot of practice. That doesn’t mean I like it.”

  “It worked, didn’t it?”

  “What do you mean?”

  “It got you on the movie.”

  “That isn’t remotely what got me on the movie.”

  “Oh, what did?”

  Cora seethed in helpless frustration.

  Melvin smiled roguishly. “So, now that’s out of way, what else can I do for you?”

  “You can answer my questions.”

  “Not what I had in mind.”

  “Oh, what a shame,” Cora said. “So tell me, who else was the girl sleeping with? That you do know. It’s the type of thing you always know.”

  “Well, not the production assistants, that’s for sure. She slept with the movers and shakers.”

  “Oh, that’s so sad.”

  “What?”

  “You think of yourself as a mover and shaker.”

  “Very funny. You want my h
elp or not?”

  “Help? I thought you were just bragging.”

  “Hey, who came to whose hotel room at two in the morning?”

  “You’re right. I should be kind. Melvin, you super-stud, who else was in your category?”

  “Listen, are you going to take your clothes off?”

  “Not so you could notice.”

  “Believe me, I’d notice.”

  “Who else was the girl sleeping with?”

  “Well, the producer of course.”

  “Why of course?”

  “That’s what he hired them for.”

  “You’re telling me he slept with both girls too?”

  “Sure thing.”

  “What about Fred?”

  “Fred slept with the second one. He wasn’t around until after the first girl got killed.”

  “Could he have known her before?”

  “Why?”

  “He claimed women helped get him his audition.”

  “Women?”

  “Yes.”

  “More than one?”

  “So he said.”

  “What women?”

  “The script supervisor and one of the gofer girls. He didn’t say which one.”

  “The script supervisor?”

  “Yes.”

  “Don’t believe it for a minute.”

  “Why not?”

  “She’s got a thing for Sandy. Can’t you tell?”

  “It’s fairly obvious.”

  “That’s for sure. Trust me, Fred was merely bragging.”

  “If she’s got a thing for Sandy, do you think he’s acted on it?”

  “He’s married.”

  “Oh, I forgot. You consider marriage to be a sacred bond between husband and wife.”

  “His wife is hell on wheels.”

  “Well, you can relate to that.”

  “Not the point I was making. She also controls the purse strings. For him, a divorce would be a disaster. It would mean a change of lifestyle.”

  “I’m beginning to get the picture.”

  “I thought you might. That’s why no one is naming him as having slept with the girls. He kept it quiet.”

  “But you know about it.”

  “Think of me as a savant.”

  “Oh, really.”

  “It’s why you came to me, remember.”

  “It’s murder, Melvin. It matters. How did you know?”

  “The girl told me.”

  “Which girl?”

  “The first girl. What was her name? Karen Hart. The second girl wouldn’t give me the time of day.”

  “And yet she took her clothes off.”

  Melvin shrugged. “You did.”

  “She told you about the director?”

  “That’s right.”

  “She told you about herself and the director. She didn’t tell you about Melinda Fisher and the director.”

  “Sure she did.”

  “You mean he was sleeping with her way back then?”

  “Why wait?”

  72

  Aunt Cora looks grumpy.”

  Aunt Cora was indeed grumpy. Aunt Cora had driven all the way back to Bakerhaven knowing within hours she would have to drive all the way back to Manhattan, rather than succumbing to Melvin’s wiles, and saving herself two trips and a couple of hours of sleep, for which she felt virtuous, tired, and grumpy. Indeed, only her elbow on the breakfast table was keeping her from sliding headlong into her oatmeal.

  “This is nothing, kid,” Cora grumbled. “You should have seen me before I quit drinking.”

  “No, you should not,” Sherry said. “Are you going to eat that oatmeal or just stare at it?”

  “Oatmeal? Why didn’t you tell me?”

  “You mean like when I set it under your nose and said, Here’s your oatmeal?”

  “Your mommy’s grumpy,” Cora said. She took a sip of coffee and burned her tongue. “Why is this so hot?”

  “You didn’t put milk in it.”

  “I didn’t put milk in it? You didn’t tell me I had to make my own breakfast.”

  Jennifer giggled. “Aunt Cora’s funny.”

  The phone rang. Sherry got up and answered it. “It’s for you.”

  “What’s for me?” Cora said.

  “The phone.”

  “Oh, hell.” Cora got up, took the phone, leaned against the refrigerator. “Yes?”

  It was Melvin. “We’re shooting at Macy’s.”

  “I know we’re shooting at Macy’s. It’s on the schedule.”

  “Yes, but it’s been on the schedule before and we’ve been rained out. Today we’re not. I just got the call.”

  “What call?”

  “Confirming the location. They’ve been calling every day since Binky went to Macy’s.”

  “Who?”

  “One of the teamsters. The first day we were on the cover set he went to Macy’s. There he is, one truck, sitting there, wondering where everyone else is.”

  “I didn’t hear that.”

  “The teamster captain hushed it up. Binky’s just a kid. Didn’t want to get him into trouble. And it wasn’t his fault. He left early, didn’t get the call.”

  “What call?”

  “It was a late decision, they didn’t make the calls till the morning, the kid had already left.”

  “He didn’t notice it was raining?”

  “Apparently he’s not the sharpest tool in the drawer.”

  “Why are you telling me this?”

  “To wake you up. I figured you must be way short of sleep?”

  “Damn it. Melvin.”

  “Didn’t you get the call?”

  “I guess they don’t call associate producers.”

  “I knew I could make you say it,” Melvin said, and hung up.

  Cora slammed down the phone.

  “Aunt Cora’s very grumpy.” Jennifer said.

  Cora stomped back to the breakfast table, plopped down in her seat, and took a huge slug of coffee. She was torn between going back to sleep and driving to New York City, pulling up in front of Macy’s, and shooting Melvin dead. She figured it was a tossup.

  Cora glanced up to find Jennifer staring at her. Cora leveled a finger. “Don’t ever marry anyone named Melvin.”

  “Uh uh,” Sherry said. “What was the rule? No parental advice at breakfast.”

  Cora gave her the evil eye.

  Sherry filled Cora’s coffee cup. “I warmed up your coffee. You have to add your own milk.”

  Cora’s head sunk forward on her arm. Jennifer watched, fascinated, as Cora slowly merged with the table top.

  “Mommy,” Jennifer said. “Aunt Cora’s dead.”

  Sherry looked. “Dead people don’t snore.” She reached over, shook Cora awake.

  Cora’s eyes snapped open. She sucked in her breath.

  “Binky went to Macy’s!”

  73

  cora pulled up in front of Macy’s, slapped an UNTITLED PUZZLE LADY PROJECT placard on the windshield, and told the movie cop, “Watch my car.” Cora figured she was a producer, and whether executive, associate, or whatever, for once she deserved the perk.

  Sandy was already on the set, lining up a camera shot with Angela and Steve’s stand-ins. Stars didn’t have to be on the set for much of the scene blocking, they had stand-ins who did it for them. Stand-ins were never on camera, they merely held the place for the stars until the stars were ready.

  Cora marched over to Angela’s trailer and banged on the door.

  Angela knew something was up. Cora didn’t knock like that. “What is it?”

  “I got good news and bad news.”

  “Let’s have it.”

  “I know who the killer is.”

  “That’s good.”

  “And bad.”

  “Why?”

  “You’re really good in the part.”

  Angela was startled. “I didn’t do it!”

  “I know you didn’t. That’s the worst of it. You didn
’t do a damn thing.”

  “What are you talking about?”

  “This may shut down the show.”

  “You think so?”

  “I’m pretty sure.”

  Angela sunk into a chair. “Damn.”

  “Yeah. In case it does, I wondered if you’d be interested in one, final performance.”

  Angela looked at her. She smiled wistfully, and cocked her head. “What did you have in mind?”

  74

  Sandy was lining up a shot with the stand-ins when Angela tapped him on the shoulder. He looked up, ready to bite someone’s head off, and saw it was his star. He forced a smile. “What’s up?”

  “I need to talk to you.”

  “Of course. Just let me get this shot set up.”

  “Now,” Angela said.

  Sandy’s face went white. “Is it your schedule? I’ve done everything the studio asked.”

  “It’s not that,” Angela said, and walked off.

  Sandy fell all over himself to catch up with her. He stumbled through the door of her trailer and stopped dead.

  Cora Felton was sitting there. “Hi, Sandy.”

  Sandy looked from one woman to the other. “What’s going on?”

  “Binky went to Macy’s,” Cora said.

  Sandy blinked. “Huh?”

  “I want to renegotiate my contract.”

  Sandy’s mouth fell open, astonished. “What?”

  “This is more than I bargained for. I may have to shut down the film.”

  “You?” Sandy said incredulously. “You can’t do that. Look at your contract.”

  “I have. That’s why I want to renegotiate.”

  “You’re talking nonsense. What’s this all about?”

  “Binky went to Macy’s.”

  Sandy looked at Angela.

  “She keeps saying that,” Angela said. “What does it mean?”

  “How the hell should I know?”

  “You’re the director.”

  Sandy took a breath. “Miss Felton. I don’t know what you’re not happy about. Whatever it is we can sit down and talk about it, but not now. I’ve got a movie to film.”

  “I’m afraid not,” Cora said.

  “And why the hell not?”

  “Binky went to Macy’s.”

  Sandy scowled and shook his head. “This is a gag, right? The two of you got me in here as a gag. There’s a hidden camera. You’re going to play this at the wrap party and make fun of me.”

  “I promise you I wouldn’t do that,” Cora said. “I just need to talk to you because Binky went to Macy’s.”