A Knife to Remember (18 page)

“Yes, and the ring was in plain sight on the makeup counter, but it's the one thing that makes me tend to believe Angela — the fact that she had a legitimate excuse for the ring being there, but kept denying that it could have been."

“What do you mean?" Shelley asked.

“She claims it was in her purse and she didn't have her purse with her when she visited Harwell."

“Why was she there at all?" Jane asked.

“To have a fight with Harwell. No, that's not true. She claims she went in just to ask Harwell nicely if she would use her influence to get her the part the chicken pox girl had left vacant. She also says she wanted to apologize for Jake's attempt to blackmail her. That's when the feathers started flying."

“Why?"

“Harwell took offense. Said nobody had ever tried to blackmail her and they'd better not try. Angela says — and this, mind you, is all just her word — that Harwell got the mistaken impression that Angela herself had come to practice a little extortion. The more Angela tried to explain, the madder Harwell got. Angela says she was being so stupid and dramatic that she wanted to shake her. Angela finally said something sharp and nasty, sheclaims she doesn't remember just what it was, but I don't believe that. Anyway, Harwell tried to slap her, and Angela ducked out."

“That's all?"

“That's all she says. It's possible that she went away and got madder and madder about it. Figured Harwell would bad-mouth her in the business, then went back the next afternoon and poisoned her tea."

“Is that what happened? Poison?"

“Not exactly. Sleeping pills. A huge dose. The pathologist says he's got a lot more tests to run, but he's pretty sure that was the cause."

“Where'd the sleeping pills come from?" Jane asked.

“They were Harwell's. Legitimate prescription. Refilled the day before. The cup was still in the trailer. Preliminary tests showed traces in the bottom."

“Anything else? Any injuries? Sign of struggle?”

Mel shook his head. "Nothing immediately obvious. It looks like a nice, quiet suicide. The tea must have tasted awful. She couldn't have drunk it accidentally without noticing something strange. And I guess I told you, she was laid out as if she were ready to be popped right into a coffin. Fancy dress. Hair and makeup perfect. Hands neatly crossed."

“Are you wavering about it being suicide?" Shelley asked.

“Not at all. Just telling you the impression it's giving everybody else.”

They were quiet for a moment while the waitress refilled their cups. Jane wondered again why she hadn't just put on a skirt and blouse this morning instead of the baggy outfit she'd chosen without any thought.

“Anything else of significance in the dressing room?" Jane asked. "Oh! We forgot to ask you. Did you really find a press release saying who the producers were?"

“Yes. How did you know about that?"

“George Abington told us."

“I wish you two wouldn't meddle in this. I appreciate having someone to talk to about cases, but it scares the stuffing out of me when you two start doing your 'junior detective' stuff.”

Shelley ignored the warning. "Do you think there's a connection? Between the murders and the secret about the producers, I mean."

“There might be, but I'm damned if I can see what it is. I'll admit, though, that I'm beginning to wonder if the blackmail had anything at all to do with either murder."

“Why is that?" Jane asked.

“Well, think about it," Mel said, leaning forward. "It was over something so trivial. Jake just wanted Angela to get a little part. I'll grant you, I don't know much about the movie business, but that's still a stupid reason. It wasn't a big part. I've studied the script. It was a few lines that were only designed to give the main character someone to talk to. The character part didn't even have a name. It was just `farm girl,' and she said things like, 'What do you mean?' so that Harwell's character could go off into a monologue. I can see how Angela would have liked to have the part, but if she'd gotten it and donethe greatest acting in history, it wouldn't have done her much good. I'm finding it hard to believe that two people could have met their deaths because of something that insignificant."

“Maybe Jake was really blackmailing them about something else entirely," Shelley suggested.

“Or maybe it had nothing to do with the blackmail," Mel repeated. "It doesn't make sense."

“But it does, in a way," Jane said. "I can't claim to have known Jake very well, but from what everybody's said, it would have been like him to go overboard and use a sledgehammer to kill a gnat. Everybody says he was great with objects and lousy with people. He apparently had no sense of proportion in relationships. I can imagine him deciding there was something he wanted and just using the first tool at hand, which was blackmail, instead of something appropriate, like simply asking that Angela be given consideration for the part.”

Mel shrugged. "I guess there are people like that. I'm glad I don't know any of them personally.”

The waitress drifted by again, giving Mel a melting smile which Jane was extremely glad to see that he didn't return or even acknowledge.

“There's something else—" he said. "There was a religious medallion on the sink in the bathroom." "Not Lynette's?"

“Nope."

“Whose?" Jane asked.

“Butch Kowalski's, I'm afraid.”

Jane shivered. "Certainly not?"

“It had his name engraved on the back. It didn't take a lot of 'detecting' to figure it out."

“You've talked to him about it?" Shelley asked.

Mel nodded. "He just says he doesn't know how it got there. He wore it on a chain around his neck, but the chain broke a couple days ago and he stuffed it in his pocket. He claims that he took it out at some point to see if he could fix the chain, but can't remember where he put it next."

“And you think that sounds fishy?" Jane asked.

Mel laughed. "I don't think 'fishy' is the word I'd have used, but it is pretty thin."

“It could be the truth," Jane said.

“Sure it could. But is it?" Mel replied.

“Did anybody see him around the dressing room trailer at the relevant time?" Shelley asked. "What
is
the relevant time anyway?"

“Sometime after five and before nine. The pathology people wouldn't give me anything better than that until they've done all their magic. But Olive saw her at five. Harwell asked her to take a dress that needed mending to wardrobe, and not to come back because she was going to rest for an hour. Olive took the five-thirty van without seeing her again."

“And do you know where Angela and Butch were during that time?"

“We know where they say they were. Angela was three different places; makeup, wardrobe, and at craft services making a phone call to a dry cleaners who'd lost something of hers. The dry cleaners confirm the call. Various people saw her at all three places, but it would have taken only a few minutes to slip into the trailer along the way and dump the contents of the capsules into Harwell's tea."

“But wouldn't Harwell have thought that was a little odd? Somebody ducking in her trailer and messing around with her stuff?" Jane asked.

“Not if she was taking a nap like she told Olive," Shelley said.

“Or if she'd left the trailer for a minute," Mel added.

“But this foul-tasting tea would have been cold by that time."

“Longabach said she usually drank it lukewarm," Mel said. "That it hurt her teeth if it was hot."

“What about Butch? Where was he after five?" Jane asked.

“Same story. All over the place. Putting away props. Nobody was with him the whole time. He and the assistant went back and forth from the set to the prop trailer. Passed each other a couple times, but the same time element applies to him. He had his own car since he's local. He says he left the set at six. No real alibi."

“But Mel, I don't
want
Butch to be the murderer," Jane said.

“I'm sorry, but that's not exactly a consideration," Mel answered. "Since you two have been snooping, you might tell me what, if anything, you've learned. What are people talking about this morning?"

“About Lynette's death, mainly," Shelley said. "I guess you'll be glad to hear that most of the crew doesn't believe it was suicide either."

“Everybody's relieved that it didn't happen before the filming finished, naturally," Jane added. "More than relieved. They seem to be stuck in a groove about how ironic and fitting it was that she managed to give the performance of her life only hours before she died. The 'out in a blaze of glory' theme is getting a lot of play."

“Not very helpful." Mel glanced at his watch. "I've got to get back."

“What are you going to do next?" Shelley asked.

“God knows," he said glumly.

2 3

When Jane got home the cats were being so pathetic about their long incarceration that she decided to let them outside. So what if they wandered through a scene? It would just add a touch of realism, she decided.

She opened the kitchen door and Max streaked out like a lightning bolt, got about ten feet before he noticed the crowd, then whirled and streaked back. "You thought they'd gone?" she asked him. "Or had your little kitty brain forgotten that they were ever here? I wish I could forget this." She held the door open patiently while he made a second, more cautious exit with Meow creeping along behind him. They stretched their necks, taking in the unfamiliar smells for a bit before they headed for the foundation plantings and disappeared.

Butch Kowalski had been watching this performance and approached her. "Poor things," he said, smiling as Max reemerged briefly to arch his back for a pet. "I'll bet you'll all be glad to have your yard back to yourselves."

“It's not so much the yard as far as they're concerned. It's the field. That's their hunting ground.

They think they're wild cats when they're prowling out there."

“No cat food bushes, though. Well, it'll be trampled for a while, but all the equipment will be gone by tomorrow night. Some of it will be moved out by tonight. Are you coming to the wrap party?"

“Am I invited?" Jane asked to avoid giving a direct answer. The last thing in the world she wanted to do was draw out her relationship with most of these people. No, that wasn't fair, she chided herself. Some of them were quite likable. Butch, for one.

“Sure you're invited," Butch said. "I wish you'd come. It would be nice to have at least one friendly face there."

“What do you mean by that?"

“Come on. You've heard the gossip about me, haven't you? Everybody's treating me like Jack the Ripper. Sure, it was my boss who died, but I don't get anything out of it. I'd be stupid to off Jake. He was my paycheck. Besides — I really kinda liked the guy."

“You did?"

“I know. He was a real jerk about a lot of things. But he treated me good enough. Took me on when I didn't know shit about the business, and took a lot of time teaching me stuff. Everything I know was because of him. If it wasn't for him, I'd still be driving a delivery van with no damned future at all." His face was getting red.

“What's your future now, Butch?"

“I guess I gotta set out on my own. And it's not gonna be easy. I talked to Roberto — before Miss Harwell died — and he said he'd put me intouch with a guy who does a lot of commercials around here. I'm gonna have to start pretty well down the ladder on my own. No movies, but I might get commercial jobs and work back up to movies. Don't you see? If Jake was still alive, I could have gotten a lot more credits and contacts with the big-time people before I went on my own. I wouldn't kill him off. Mrs. Kowalski didn't raise no stupid kids."

“What about your medallion?" Jane decided to ask since Butch was being so frank.

He didn't seem surprised that she knew about the medallion. He assumed that everybody on the set knew about it, which was probably true. "I don't know! I just can't figure that. 1 had it in my pocket 'cause the chain busted. I got a free minute somewhere along the line, and I remember getting it out to see if I could fix it, but then somebody needed me for something and I guess I just put it down. I just can't remember. It wasn't important at the time."

“Was this yesterday?"

“I think so. I got the feeling it was in the morning sometime, but like I say, it wasn't that important and I'm not sure."

“And you were never in Miss Harwell's dressing room?"

“Are you kidding? A slob like me? Hanging around the likes of her?"

“Do you think somebody put it there on purpose to implicate you?"

“I dunno. Maybe. Or maybe she found it wherever I left it and just set it out meaning to ask whose it was and forgot. Or somebody else picked it up and left it there by accident. The police asked me all this and seemed real pissed that I didn't have any good ideas about it."

“Butch, I'm really sorry about this. It's not fair to you."

“Yeah, but Jake woulda said, 'You ain't got Fair in your contract.' He had a lot of stuff like that he said. I'm really gonna miss him. That's why it makes me so mad, people acting like I killed him. And then thinking I mighta done anything bad to Miss Harwell — that's crazy! Did you watch that scene yesterday?"

“Only from a distance."

“Well, let me tell you, she was—" he groped around, trying to come up with the right word, and finally produced one that surprised Jane. "Stunning. She was stunning."

“Let's sit down a minute, Butch. You haven't got a cigarette on you, have you? I left mine inside."

“God, no. I had to give up smoking when I started working for Jake."

“Oh, yeah. There's no worse crusader than an ex-smoker, is there?"

“What do you mean? Jake never smoked." "Oh? I thought he did—" something clicked in the back of Jane's brain.

“Naw, his mom died of lung cancer when he was a kid. He never smoked and never let anybody who worked for him smoke either."