Lights! Camera! Puzzles!

by Parnell Hall

  “God damn it!” Sandy said. “Stop saying that. Binky went to Macy’s. What the hell does it mean?”

  “It means you killed the gofer girl.”

  75

  Sandy stared at her. “You’re out of your mind. I was willing to listen, but now you’ve really lost it. Angela, sweetie, I don’t know what she’s told you, but you know it’s not true, and we’ve got a movie to make. Let’s shoot the scene, and we can talk about it over lunch.”

  “Absolutely,” Angela said. “I just want to know about Binky. She’s been driving me crazy with it. Don’t you want to know?”

  “Frankly, I can live without it,” Sandy said. At the look on Angela’s face, he relented. “Fine. Go on, but make it quick.”

  Cora nodded. “It’s very simple, Angela. It’s the thing that tripped him up. The unnecessary lie. You know what I mean? You can’t tell the truth, so your mind leaps to any lie that seems logical. The cops asked him why he took a production car. The cover set in Queens leapt to mind. There it was, a perfectly logical reason for the car. He even bolstered it with a comment about excessive taxi fares he saved. It was, however, just the thing that tripped him up.”

  “Why?”

  Cora smiled. “Binky went to Macy’s. The first day on the cover set one truck didn’t go. Binky went to Macy’s because he didn’t get the phone call changing the location from Macy’s to Queens. Because the rain was unexpected and the decision was made late. Something so minor no one was apt to notice, and no one did notice, until Melvin told me about Binky, and even then it nearly slipped by.

  “But that’s what got him. He didn’t take a production car because the location was in Queens. He took a production car so he could meet the gofer girl down by the docks. That’s why he had it when the call was changed. It was a real boon if we were shooting in Queens, but a major pain in the ass if we were shooting at Macy’s. But he took it anyway because he had to, because it was the only way he could get down to the docks without leaving a trail.”

  “You’re crazy,” Sandy said.

  “I’m afraid not. You killed her because she knew you killed Fred, and you were afraid she wouldn’t be able to keep her mouth shut.”

  “I didn’t kill Fred. You know that. You were in the trailer with me. I talked to him on the phone.”

  “You talked to the gofer girl on the phone. He was already dead. After you called, she put his phone back in his pocket, and came to wait outside your trailer for us all to come out.”

  Angela moved behind Cora and faced the director down. “Is this true?”

  Sandy looked betrayed. “Of course it isn’t true. Angela, honey, you know I’d never do such a thing.”

  “I don’t,” Cora said. She stood up, fumbled in her purse. “You ever hear of a citizen’s arrest? I’m making one. Sandy Delfin, you’re under arrest.” She frowned. “Hey, wait a minute.”

  Angela held up the gun. “Looking for this? I took it out of your purse when I saw what you were saying. You’re not shutting down my movie. She’s not shutting down my movie, Sandy. This is my first starring role, and I’m good, and it’s going to make my career. I don’t care what you did with some damn production assistant, she’s not shutting down my show. Fix this, Sandy. Make it happen.”

  Sandy exhaled. “All right, give me the gun. Here’s the deal. She came in here, she was acting weird. You were making a mockery of her life. She ordered you to tone it down. You struggled with her—”

  “No!” Angela said. “I am not claiming self-defense!”

  “Alright, alright,” Sandy said, improvising wildly. “She came in here, she had some wild theory about Fred. She got up on the kitchen table, tied a sash around her neck and the ceiling fan, but she slipped. You tried to hold her up, but she was fat, and you couldn’t—”

  “Son of a bitch!” Cora said.

  She started for Sandy.

  He raised the gun and fired.

  It clicked.

  Cora tore the gun out of his hand and punched him square in the jaw.

  The director went down in a heap.

  Sergeant Crowley stepped out of the trailer bathroom.

  He shook his head at Cora. “The guy was confessing. You couldn’t have let him go on a little more?”

  Cora glared at him.

  “Son of a bitch called me fat!”

  76

  cora, Angela, Stephanie, and Crowley sat together at a small café near Macy’s. Crowley had called in Perkins to handle the arrest while he got his facts in order. Stephanie had closed her shop, and taken a taxi up from the Village. Angela had broken the bad news to Steve, and left him calling his agent. They were all drinking cappuccinos and lattes and espressos and listening to Cora explain the crime.

  Angela lifted her espresso to Crowley. “Look at this,” she said. “The conquering hero and his three adoring women.”

  “I just hid in the bathroom while you did all the work.”

  “See?” Stephanie said. “This is what would be called self-deprecating in an officer who’d actually done something.”

  Angela laughed. “Wow. I could not have cut a man down better. And I’ve had lots of practice.”

  “I’m glad you’re having a lot of fun at my expense,” Crowley said, “but the A.D.A. is going to want to know what evidence I’ve got against this guy, and Cora is the only one who knows. We’ve charged him with four homicides. Do you happen to have a theory behind it?”

  “It was actually kind of a whim,” Cora said.

  “Come on, Cora,” Stephanie said. “The poor man’s suffered enough.”

  “All right,” Cora said. “Here’s the deal. It was driving me nuts that I couldn’t find the missing piece. Why was the first girl killed? Why was Fred killed? Why was the second girl killed? Why did a light almost fall on the director’s head?

  “It wasn’t easy to put together. And I partly blame that damn crossword puzzle. The puzzle was meant to be found on the body of Karen Hart, the first gofer girl, as part of a huge publicity stunt. A crossword puzzle killing on a Puzzle Lady movie.”

  “That’s absurd,” Angela said.

  “Yes, it is. Particularly since it didn’t happen. The screenwriter found it, and that was the end of that. But the killing went forward without it. Which would have been the end of it, but then someone dropped a light on Sandy’s head, and he hired a bodyguard. A ridiculous thing to do. No one was trying to kill him. A light got knocked over. Why the overreaction? Simple. Another publicity stunt.”

  Cora smiled. “But it wasn’t another publicity stunt, because there never was a first one. I got the idea the first girl was a publicity stunt because there might have been a crossword puzzle. But I was wrong. The crossword puzzle turned out to be incidental. The first killing really only looked like a publicity stunt because hiring the bodyguard looked like a publicity stunt. It wasn’t, of course. Sandy wanted it to look like a publicity stunt, so no one who notice what it really was. An alibi. An attempt to cast himself in the role of the victim rather than the killer. He kicked the light over to make it look like the killer was targeting him.”

  Crowley’s head was spinning. “Are you getting anywhere near the motive?”

  “Oh, right.” Cora took a sip of cappuccino. “I finally found the link. The thing that tied the three crimes together. The second and third crimes were easy. The first one was driving me nuts. It happened way before anything happened. It couldn’t be connected, but it had to be. Karen Hart was the problem. The first dead gofer girl. What was the connection? Why was she killed?”

  “He slept with her, right?” Angela said.

  “Well, that’s one thing. But that’s not the reason she got killed. She got killed because she was an opportunistic, manipulative, scheming bitch. She wielded sex like a weapon. And Sandy was dead meat. A man afraid of his wife, who didn’t want the facts coming out. She played him like a harp. She got him hooked and reeled him in.”

  Cora raised her finger. “But here’s the thing. She w
as also involved with Fred. That was the missing connection. I have no proof of this, but I bet you a nickel. She pressured the director to give him an audition, and she pressured the producer, who she was also sleeping with, to put in a good word for Fred. No problem. Getting someone an audition was standard Hollywood barter. Nothing ever came of it. So Sandy gave Fred an audition, he was terrible, and that was that.

  “Only Karen Hart won’t let it go. She wants to know when Sandy’s going to cast him. He tells her not until hell freezes over. And she threatens to go to his wife.

  “Karen Hart is a problem that is not going to go away. Left unchecked, she is going to wind up directing the picture.

  “So Sandy kills her. When her boyfriend shows up, it’s like manna from heaven. Sandy kills him, and frames him for her murder. The frame is so clumsy it doesn’t work. Nonetheless, the police are stymied and the show goes on.

  “Except for one thing.”

  Angela smiled. “Fred Roberts!”

  “Yes,” Cora said. “Fred Roberts, who shows up, issues a few vague threats about Karen Hart, and wants to know if he’s been cast. He’s not, of course, but he suggests unless he is the police might get some information regarding Karen Hart’s death.

  “So Sandy bites the bullet and casts him. Because he’s not out to run the show, he just wants one part. After all, how bad can he be?”

  Cora spread her arms. “Well, we all know the answer to that. Fred had to go, and Sandy couldn’t fire him without winding up on the hook for Karen Hart’s murder.

  “So, he set up a plan, using Melinda Fisher, the other gofer girl he was sleeping with, who is infatuated with him and will do anything he says. He knew Fred would be terrible that first day he had lines. As planned he stopped filming, sent him to his trailer, and followed him to talk to him.

  “He strangled him and hung him from the ceiling. He got the gofer girl Melinda to sit watch on his trailer and not let anyone in. Then he called the producer and the production manager and hustled everyone into his trailer to have a meeting about firing Fred.

  “When we had all agreed to do it, he called Fred to tell him we were coming to see him. The phone company records verify the fact that the call was answered. Melinda Fisher answered it. She hung up, stuck Fred’s phone back in his pocket, and made her way down to the trailer. As planned, she didn’t go in, she stood outside waiting while Sandy stalled having contracts faxed and clauses read. Why? So there would be time after she left the trailer for someone to get in and kill Fred, if the police didn’t go for the theory he hung himself. The police didn’t, but that was okay, because Sandy’s alibi held up.

  “Then we come to Melinda Fisher’s murder. The one Binky’s truck hangs him for. After filming, he took a production car, drove it down to the river, and called her from a pay phone to come meet him. She did, and he killed her. He had to. She was weak and clingy on the one hand, and she was waffling on the other. She was the type of girl who would never let go. He simply had to do it.”

  Angela smiled at Crowley. “That work for you, officer?”

  “I’d be happier with more proof.”

  The remark was met with catcalls. Stephanie even threw a napkin. “Then get some, you big lug.”

  They all laughed.

  “How about the fact he tried to shoot Cora?” Angela said.

  Crowley considered that judiciously. “It would have been more convincing if you’d left the bullets in the gun.”

  77

  So,” Sherry said, as Cora stumbled out of bed at 10 a.m. for breakfast, “I see life is back to normal.”

  “If you mean I’m unemployed and unemployable, it certainly is.” Cora sat down at the table, poured the dregs of the coffee pot into a cup.

  “I’m brewing a fresh pot,” Sherry said.

  “I’m not sure I can wait.” Cora took a sip, pushed the cup away. “I can wait.”

  It had been a good month since the movie had shut down. With the director arrested for murder, there was no choice. Even if the bad publicity weren’t enough to kill the project, there was no time to bring another director in, and if there had been, Angela couldn’t have waited around to film for him, she had to be back on her sitcom.

  Replacing her was out of the question. Without her, Steve was the name. If they brought in a bigger star than him, he’d feel undermined, and if they brought in a lesser one, he’d feel slighted. And before that could be worked out, he had to get back to his TV show, and the whole thing simply fizzled.

  The Puzzle Lady project was dead in the water, and no one was apt to revive it. Even Melvin couldn’t put an optimistic spin on the situation. It occurred to Cora he was probably having trouble selling himself as an executive producer. The thought made her smile, which was good because not many things were these days.

  She could take satisfaction that Sandy Delfin had been indicted on four counts of murder. If not for her, he wouldn’t have been indicted for any. Not that she was taking the credit. She’d stepped aside and let Crowley do that. It occurred to her she was stepping aside for Crowley a lot these days.

  Sherry shoved a cup of coffee in front of her. “Here’s your coffee. I put milk and sugar in it. It’s ready to go. Just drink it.”

  Cora took a greedy sip. “Ah, that’s better. Can I go back to sleep now?”

  “That’s the wrong attitude.”

  “What’s the right attitude?”

  “I don’t know. Money’s tight. We might have to sell the house. You’d have to evict your tenants, move back into your apartment in New York. Aaron, Jennifer and I might have to move in with you.”

  “Are you trying to scare me into action?”

  “It’s been a month. Have you considered looking for a job?”

  “Good God, no!” Cora said. “I’d rather get married again. If it wouldn’t let Melvin off the hook for alimony.”

  “Not to mention leaving us high and dry while you go gallivanting around the world with hubby number seven. Or is it eight? I’ve lost track, at this point.”

  “Are you counting the annulments?”

  The phone rang. Sherry answered it. She held the phone out to Cora. “It’s your agent. Maybe they’re making Untitled Puzzle Project Number Two.”

  Cora got up and took the phone. “Hello?”

  “Cora Felton?”

  “You sound unsure. Do you have some other client I don’t know about?”

  “Good one. No, I want you.”

  “Don’t tell me. They picked up the option and they’re going ahead with the movie.”

  “No one’s picked up the option. After what happened, the Puzzle Lady movie is living poison. No one wants to touch it. Which is good for us. We don’t get paid, but if the movie’s not going forward, there will be no mass market paperback, and your ex-husband’s book is fading away in the rear view mirror. All the public remembers is that you solved four murders that had the police baffled.”

  “And that helps us how?”

  “I was just on the phone with Granville Grains. As far as they’re concerned, you’re the golden-haired girl again.”

  “They’d like me as a blonde?”

  “No, they just mean—Oh, that was a joke. I’m trying to be serious.”

  “Be serious then. What’s the bottom line?”

  “Granville Grains wants to revive the Puzzle Lady campaign. They want you to make TV commercials again.”

  “National?”

  “Of course.”

  “Did I ever tell you you’re the best agent in the business?”

  “Frequently. When you aren’t trying to fire me.”

  “You’re too smart to fall for that.”

  Cora hung up the phone. She sat down at the table, took a huge slug of coffee, and smiled.

  “See,” she said. “All you had to do was ask.”

  Sherry frowned. “What are you talking about?”

  “I got a job.”

  LIGHTS! CAMERA! PUZZLES!

  Pegasus Crime is an imprint
of

  Pegasus Books, Ltd.

  148 W. 37th Street, 13th Floor

  New York, NY 10018

  Copyright © 2019 Parnell Hall

  First Pegasus Books edition April 2019

  Interior design by Maria Fernandez

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in whole or in part without written permission from the publisher, except by reviewers who may quote brief excerpts in connection with a review in a newspaper, magazine, or electronic publication; nor may any part of this book be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or other, without written permission from the publisher.

  Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data is available.

  ISBN: 978-1-64313-059-0

  ISBN: 978-1-64313-121-4 (ebk.)

  Distributed by W. W. Norton & Company

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