by Fiona Leitch
‘Who have you asked?’
‘Well, only Zack, Kimi, and Faith, but they were delivered in a weird, secretive way, just dumped on the counter of the food truck when I wasn’t looking.’ I spotted the box on the table. ‘So I reckon we should be testing whatever’s in that box.’
Nathan pulled on latex gloves and lifted the lid of the box carefully. We both took a deep breath as he peered inside…
‘There’s none left,’ he said.
‘Really?’ I was surprised. ‘That’s odd. There were a lot of them – ten I reckon, or maybe even a dozen. There were seven people for dinner and two of them didn’t eat them, so that means they all had at least two cakes each.’
Nathan looked at me and grinned. ‘You telling me you couldn’t eat two cupcakes?’
I looked at him indignantly. ‘No, I couldn’t! Well, not big cupcakes like these, with a ton of frosting on, not straight after a meal.’
‘So where are the others?’
We stared at each other. Maybe the poisoner had beaten us to it; maybe they’d already somehow sneaked into the caravan and taken the incriminating cupcakes…
‘There’s been a uniform on the door twenty-four hours a day since the death,’ said Nathan. ‘There’s no way anyone could have got in.’
‘Through the window?’ I suggested, remembering how I’d badgered Tony into climbing in through the big one at the back of Faith’s caravan. Nathan went over and checked it, then shook his head.
‘It’s locked from the inside,’ he said. ‘Even if they’d left it unlocked on the night of the murder, so they could get back in, it would still be unlocked now after they climbed back out.’ He looked at me. ‘We might be making something out of nothing here. They might have just eaten all of them.’
I shook my head. ‘You didn’t see them. They were works of art, but they were covered in loads of frosting and icing and glitter. They would have been really sweet – maybe on purpose to cover the taste of the poison. Even without the big meal first, they’d be too rich to eat all of them.’ Another thought occurred to me. ‘Plus it seems to me that all the cakes would have to have a certain amount of toxin in them, so that everyone got sick and made it look like accidental food poisoning, rather than someone targeting Jeremy—’
‘So if the diners had eaten more than one cupcake, and therefore more than one dose of toxin, we surely would have ended up with more than one corpse on our hands.’ Nathan looked at me thoughtfully.
‘I was thinking about this earlier,’ I said. ‘The poisoner must have been at the meal, to make sure that Jeremy took the right cake. So they could have taken any leftover cakes with them on the night, when they left. They could have slipped them into a bag. There was probably enough chaos going on to do that unseen.’
‘But by your reckoning, there would have been at least five cakes left,’ he said. ‘They’d need a big bag, like a messenger bag or rucksack.’
‘Kimi has a rucksack,’ I said, ‘A hideous designer number with a tiger’s head on it…’
Nathan waylaid a scurrying crew member and asked if Kimi was at the shoot today. The harassed woman gave him an irritated look, before looking at him properly and suddenly becoming all big smiles and helpful attitude. It was certainly useful having a good-looking DCI on the case…
Kimi had finished in Hair and Make-Up, and was now waiting in her trailer until she was needed. Probably drinking a bottle of sea water that cost fifteen quid, I thought. Cornwall was surrounded by water on three sides, and we had lots of Blue Flags, the award given to coastal areas with the cleanest water and beaches. Maybe one of our local entrepreneurs should start bottling L’eau de Penstowan and charging a tenner for it.
We approached Kimi’s trailer. Germaine was straining at her leash, and if Nathan had been wearing one, he would have been too.
‘Hold on,’ I said, as we reached the foot of the trailer’s steps. ‘What are we going to say to her? She’s hardly going to admit to poisoning the cupcakes, is she? And she’ll have binned them by now.’ He raised an eyebrow. ‘All right, you’re the policeman. What are you going to say to her?’
‘There’s this technique I learned during my CID training,’ he said. ‘You might not have heard of it, seeing as you were only a lowly uniform…’
‘Watch it, DCI Withers,’ I growled. He laughed.
‘Or maybe you have heard of it. It’s called ‘winging it’. Just follow my lead.’ He turned towards the steps, then stopped. ‘Oh, and if you manage to leave all the talking to me I will be amazed.’ He turned away. ‘I’m not holding my breath…’
I gave him a dig in the back as he walked up to the door of the trailer and knocked. Inside, there was the sound of muffled swearing and then silence; Kimi obviously didn’t want visitors. Nathan knocked again.
‘Miss Takahashi, it’s DCI Withers. I’d like to ask you a few questions, please.’
From inside came the sound of frantic movements and a muffled voice again. We exchanged alarmed looks.
‘Can you open the door please, Miss? Kimi?’ Nathan knocked again. Germaine gave a small yap as, behind us, a very pale-looking Aiko and Princess approached.
‘What’s going on?’ asked Aiko, alarmed. Inside, the sounds of frantic movement increased.
‘Walking the dog today, are we?’ I said. ‘Rather than just letting her out so she could take herself off for a swim?’
Aiko started guiltily. ‘I never meant— I didn’t think she’d get that far…’
‘We think your sister might be in some trouble,’ said Nathan. Aiko took a key from her pocket and rushed up the stairs. He took it from her and opened the door.
‘Miss Takahashi, we’re coming in…’
Inside, was a scene of devastation. Devastation if you were a cupcake, anyway. Kimi sat bolt upright on the sofa, her massive fairy wings making it impossible for her to recline in the slightest. The hideous designer rucksack was next to her on the seat, and two empty cupcake wrappers lay beside it, their shiny gold paper twinkling in the ray of weak October sunshine that came in through the open door. It was already blatantly obvious that Kimi had been eating the evidence, but as if to underline it for the people at the back and anyone who wasn’t paying attention, there was a dollop of pink and white frosting on the tip of her nose, and her cleavage (which was on full display in her not-particularly-modest costume) was covered in sprinkles and edible glitter.
‘Kimi!’ cried Aiko, rushing over to her.
‘Mmmpf mmf mmm!’ said Kimi, her mouth full of cake. She swallowed. ‘What the hell? What are you doing, breaking into my trailer?’
‘We didn’t break in. Aiko had a key,’ I pointed out, thinking, I hope we were wrong about those cupcakes, otherwise any time now Kimi’s going to really experience the evils of sugary snacks…
‘Oh Kimi!’ Aiko looked distraught. She sat next to her sister and took her hand. ‘You’ve been doing it again, haven’t you?’ Kimi looked at her for a moment and opened her mouth to retort, but then burst into completely unexpected tears.
Nathan and I looked at each other, feeling awkward.
‘Um…’ said Nathan. He looked a bit bewildered; neither of us had been expecting this. ‘Miss Takahashi, you’re not in any trouble. We just wanted to ask you about the cupcakes…’
‘I couldn’t help it!’ she sobbed. ‘They looked so good. When we left the dinner party after Jeremy’s death I had to have one.’
‘One?’ said Aiko, sternly. Kimi shrugged.
‘It was quicker to just tip them all out of the box and into my bag,’ she said. ‘And I was so upset after watching Jeremy… and I was worried about Princess…’
‘You were worried about the dog? That figures.’ Aiko angrily let go of her hand and went to stand up, but Kimi grabbed her.
‘Of course I was worried about you! But you were safe at the hospital, and you’ve got Zack. I could tell he liked you the first time I saw the two of you together. Without you, Princess is all I’ve got…’
‘I was so upset that I went back to the hotel room and I … I ate a cupcake.’ Kimi looked guilty, and for a moment I remembered what Faith had said about not wanting the younger generation of actors to suffer the way she had. They obviously still were – obviously still obsessed with their looks and their weight, not risking putting on even an ounce in case it ruined their careers. And they were probably right; the roles probably would dry up if they got old and fat, or even if they looked like an ordinary woman. Who wants to see an ordinary woman on the screen? I do, I thought, and so do a lot of other female moviegoers.
‘You ate a cupcake the night of the dinner party?’ said Nathan, glancing at me.
‘Yes,’ said Kimi defensively. ‘Sam did order them for my birthday, after all.’
‘Sam Pritchard bought them?’ I asked. She nodded and scrabbled around in her bag, pulling out a small card.
‘This was in the bottom of the box,’ she said, holding it out. I took it.
Happy birthday to my leading lady on her birthday, love Sam.
I couldn’t imagine the director wanting to poison his own stars.
‘And you weren’t sick after you ate it?’ I asked.
‘Of course not,’ said Kimi, but she looked like she was lying. Aiko sighed.
‘She probably was sick,’ she said, ‘but not because of food poisoning.’ Nathan looked confused. ‘My sister has an eating disorder, Detective Chief Inspector. I thought she was getting better.’
‘I am!’ wailed Kimi, but the frosting and the scattered sprinkles and the discarded cake wrappers told a different story. I felt guilty now that I’d laughed at all her healthy eating talk and the ridiculously expensive water. She was just a vulnerable, confused young woman who had been thrust into the spotlight, a spotlight that had illuminated and played upon all the insecurities that most of us have; but most of us are allowed a bit of privacy to work through them.
We left Aiko helping her sister to clean up the mess and have a heart-to-heart talk. Nathan was quiet as we went down the stairs, Germaine trotting along behind us solemnly; I think she’d liked the look of Princess and wanted to have a run around with her, but now was not the time.
‘Tea?’ I asked, and Nathan nodded.
We sat at a picnic bench. It felt a bit warmer today; it was one of those autumnal days when the weather can’t quite decide if it wishes it were still summer or whether it should just get on with it and turn into winter. The sun was out, although it was already too low in the sky to give off much heat, but it was still pleasant enough, sitting there in our coats, hot mugs clasped in our hands.
‘Poor Kimi,’ I said eventually, and Nathan nodded.
‘I’d never really thought about how young she is,’ he said. ‘She reminded me of my sister.’
I looked at him, surprised. ‘I didn’t know you’ve got a sister.’
‘I don’t anymore,’ he said. ‘Leukaemia, when she was seventeen.’
‘Oh Nathan…’ I reached out and took his hand. He smiled.
‘It was a long time ago. I can go weeks now without thinking about her, and then suddenly something’ll happen and some memory will pop up and make me smile.’ He squeezed my hand. ‘When something like that happens, it makes you think about what’s important in life, doesn’t it? Stuff like family, and being happy…’
Family, I thought. And your family is back in Liverpool.
Chapter Twenty-Four
We were interrupted by a stampede of cast and crew heading for the food truck. It was lunchtime by now, and I hadn’t cooked anything. I really didn’t want to let go of Nathan’s hand, but I had to get to work.
‘It’s all right,’ he said. ‘I know you’ve got a job to do.’
‘What about you?’ I asked. ‘What’s your next move?’
He shrugged. ‘No idea. Do you need some help?’
And that was how I ended up with a new sous-chef. I’d thought he was joking, but he wasn’t; he needed to think and, like me, he found it easier to do that when he was physically busy. I gave him the boring, menial jobs like washing up and peeling veg, and he did them all without complaining. I made a super-quick cheesy pasta dish (pasta and bacon had really proved to be lifesavers on this job), then threw together a chicken and vegetable stir-fry (veg courtesy of my new kitchen assistant). There had been a delivery the day before, which David Morgan had kindly taken in, and when he brought that over I discovered veggie burgers and sausages, so I shoved them in the oven to cook and got Nathan to slice some burger baps and hot-dog rolls in half.
As we worked I told him about my modest flash of inspiration earlier: that if we found out who was behind the curse rumours, and behind at least some of the ‘accidents’, then maybe we would find our killer. I also told him that Zack had owned up to one of the pranks, and why; and that he’d said Aiko was behind the dog getting loose. Based on what we’d just seen, the relationship between the two sisters was complex, to say the least, and I almost didn’t blame Aiko for getting sick of playing second fiddle to the Pekinese and letting her out, not necessarily expecting her to end up in the lake. She certainly seemed to feel guilty about it now.
There was a fair bit of moaning in the queue, but it was relatively good-natured, and within half an hour the warming dishes on the hot buffet counter had started to fill with food.
The food wasn’t the only thing that was hot. The food truck quickly got steamy with the heat from the oven and the pans on the hob, and having another body in there with me only added to it. Add to that the fact that body was Nathan, and I was in serious danger of melting – or at the very least, succumbing to a swoon and passing out like a Victorian lady suffering from an attack of the vapours. There wasn’t a lot of room in the truck, and we were constantly squeezing past each other to get to something. I am going to explode with the sexual tension in a minute, I thought.
But before I could explode, Nathan’s phone rang. He grinned at me.
‘Sorry, boss,’ he said, and took it out. I half expected it to be his superintendent back in Liverpool, but it wasn’t.
‘Sergeant Adams! Have you run out of jelly babies?’ He looked at me and winked, and I felt myself get even hotter. ‘Oh, he does, does he? I’m at the food truck. Send him over… No, he can come here.’ He hung up. ‘It seems my favourite New Yorker is on the war path…’
I didn’t want it to be too obvious that I was being nosey (hey, there’s always a first time), so I stayed in the truck but loitered by the counter, pretending to check up on the amount of food in the warming dishes. Mike Mancuso had stormed over to the canteen area, obviously not pleased that he’d had to come to Nathan and not the other way around. I dolloped some cheesy pasta on an extra’s plate and shoved them out of the way.
‘Mr Mancuso,’ said Nathan pleasantly. The producer almost growled at him.
‘Can we talk somewhere quieter?’ he asked. Nathan looked around, almost in surprise.
‘I think here’s as good a place as any,’ he said. ‘Please, take a seat.’
Dammit, I thought, as they sat down. Nathan had chosen a table as close to the food truck as possible, but it was too far away for me to hear. I grabbed a tray and went outside, pretending to clear empty plates from the tables. Germaine helped me, gobbling up any bits of food on the floor. She was better than a vacuum cleaner.
‘You got some beef with me?’ hissed Mancuso. Nathan smiled politely.
‘No thanks, I’m not hungry. I had a late breakfast.’ At the next table, I hid a snigger.
‘What? No, I mean, you got a problem with me? I thought this case was all wrapped up. I thought you said it was the pufferfish, an accident…’
‘The cause of death was poisoning by tetrodotoxin, yes.’ Nathan looked the picture of innocence. ‘Is there a problem?’
‘The insurance company contacted you guys and they seem to think there’s a problem, so yea
h. They seem to think this was no accident.’
‘Let me guess, they’re refusing to pay out? I said, didn’t I, that insurance companies will do anything to get out of paying off a claim.’
‘So it was an accident?’
‘I didn’t say that.’ Nathan was infuriatingly calm. Mancuso, who was going slightly purple in the face, looked like he wanted to hit something – probably Nathan. He took a deep breath and I could see he was forcing himself to chill.
‘Look,’ said the producer. ‘I’ll level with you: it don’t feel right, carrying on with the shoot with one of my cast members the wrong side of the grass, you get me?’
Nathan looked genuinely confused. ‘The wrong side of the…?’
‘Jeremy. It feels wrong to keep filming after he bought it.’ Mancuso looked at Nathan’s polite incomprehension and sighed, enunciating his words clearly, as though my favourite DCI was an idiot. ‘After he ate the pufferfish and died.’
‘Oh, right, yes. Not heard that expression before. So what would happen if you just closed down until it did feel right?’
‘You fall behind schedule, you pay for stuff you ain’t gonna need, crew you ain’t gonna use, the budget goes way over, the release date gets pushed back further and further, the investors want their money back… You want me to go on?’
‘No, you’ve made yourself quite clear.’ Nathan looked sympathetic, but I knew it was about as genuine as Faith’s hair colour. ‘So you really need the insurance people to pay out, don’t you? Does your policy cover murder?’
Mancuso went pale. ‘But it was an accident.’
‘I told you, I didn’t say that. We think it was meant to look like one. As though all the other little accidents that have been happening on this shoot were really just leading up to this big one.’ Nathan smiled. ‘What do you think?’
Mancuso stood up. He looked suddenly furious. ‘What I think is that the police need to get their heads outta their asses and do their job!’
