Cherringham--Final Cut

by Neil Richards

  “Very. For short term use, if at all. Even a regular dose can cause difficulties; the amount Zoë had inside her could easily have caused gastrointestinal bleeding, heart failure, and renal failure.”

  The doctor patted Zoë’s shoulder. “If we had not performed that procedure, she could have had another — and more severe — attack … that could have been fatal.”

  Then Zoë spoke … “Thank you.”

  The doctor smiled. “Part of the job, Zoë. And,” keeping her eyes on the patient — “is it okay I share with them, what we discussed?”

  A nod. Then: “Absolutely.”

  “Right. Well, Zoë is a very healthy girl. But she has used some mood stabilizers in the past, anxiety medications.”

  “Off and on,” Zoë said. “Sometimes …” a small smile … “I get a little wired.”

  “Yes, and I got a copy of her records from her London physician. Nothing dramatic there. And …”

  Another pause.

  “No history of using anything like Toradol.”

  “Never,” Zoë said quietly. “I haven’t even heard of it.”

  “And even her other medications … taken on an as-needed basis only …”

  “And I haven’t needed them lately. Least — not yet.”

  The poor girl, Sarah thought.

  Everyone thinking about how rich and glamorous her life must be.

  But when she’s alone …

  Dealing with issues like so many of us.

  Sarah was glad she and Jack could be there for her.

  “I asked her whether she had any idea how the drug could have got into her system.”

  “It seemed impossible,” Zoë said. “I didn’t eat anything at all. I didn’t even take my vitamins this morning … I don’t understand …”

  The actress seemed close to tears. Funny, how she could probably produce tears on demand, a skill well-honed at drama school.

  But real tears, real confusion?

  Hard to fake that.

  Sarah guessed that Jack now felt that his fears were vindicated.

  Another ‘accident’. Near deadly this time.

  And suddenly they were involved in another case.

  “I hope …” the doctor said slowly, “that maybe you can help Zoë? Figure out what happened?”

  A look of worry in the doctor’s eyes.

  When Sarah heard a big, blustery voice outside, a thick accent.

  All eyes in the room turned to the closed door which did little to keep the noise out.

  “I must — I tell you — I must see my star! Do you know who I am? Do you? Now let me—”

  The doorknob turned and, with a nurse on one side and an attendant in a white outfit and white trainers on the other — a man entered. Burly, long overcoat, black fedora, with busy eyebrows that bobbed above what looked like wild eyes, he struggled as the hospital employees held him.

  Who is this guy? Sarah thought

  And she and Jack were about to find out …

  9. Enter Ludo

  Jack watched as Zoë quickly turned to the doctor.

  “That’s — um, it’s all right, Doctor …”

  A nod from Dr. Manjeep, and the attendant and nurse backed away.

  And Jack watched as the man in the overcoat brushed it as if shaking off dust, and then marched straight over to the bed, ignoring everyone else.

  “My dear Zoë, I could not believe it, when I heard the news.” The man took Zoë’s left hand and made it into a sandwich between his two bear-sized paws.

  Obviously, Jack thought, a big wig with the film company.

  “Thank you, Ludo. Um,” Zoë nodded at her doctor, then to Sarah.

  “This is my producer, the film’s producer—”

  With the introduction, the man turned. “Ludo Pesciak, proud producer of The Rose of Cherringham!” Then with his eyes narrowing, eyebrows expressing suspicion. “And you two?”

  “Friends,” Zoë added quickly. “Jack has been serving as my driver, and Sarah … keeping an eye out for me.”

  The producer nodded.

  “Not such a good eye then, hmm? What happened?”

  First checking that Zoë didn’t mind, the doctor gave a summary of the toxic drugs found.

  Ludo raised his hands up, palms out. “But how? You … I mean, you would never …?”

  Jack intervened. “Don’t think Zoë knew she was taking anything, Ludo.”

  The producer now rolled his yes.

  “Another accident!”

  Everyone seems to like that word, Jack thought.

  “That — remains to be seen.”

  The producer touched his forehead. “My sweet Zoë, what can I do … anything … tell me …”

  The doctor walked over to the monitor.

  “Maybe best we give her some more time to rest, hmm? For now.”

  “Oh, yes,” Ludo was quick to agree. “What am I thinking? Rest, get better.“

  Then: “But … when can she be back on set?”

  Zoë looked at the doctor. “I feel fine now, really.”

  And Jack saw the doctor look right at the actress.

  He felt that — like him — the doctor may not be worried about her patient’s current state.

  But more about how this happened.

  And what might happen next.

  “Well — I’d recommend a night’s rest here.”

  “Of course,” Ludo said, a finger jetting into the air. “And then?”

  “Tomorrow you could be released. And if you are feeling strong enough, maybe a few hours of work. But only—”

  “Everyone’s depending on me,” Zoë said. “The entire production.”

  “It’s your health that must come first,” Ludo said. “Nem igy van?”

  Whatever that meant, Jack thought, his Hungarian a tad rusty.

  He looked at Sarah.

  Be interesting to find out the story about this producer that everyone called ‘Dracula’.

  “So maybe … tomorrow … for a bit …” Zoë looked from the doctor to her producer.

  “See how you feel,” the doctor said. “But light days only.”

  “Screw the crew,” Ludo said. “You, Zoë, you are the priority now. If better, you work, If not, you don’t.”

  Quite the character, Jack thought.

  And then …

  “So, some rest right now sounds good,” Zoë said.

  Jack watched Sarah walk over to the bed.

  “I’ll stay in touch. Text, call? Yes? See how you get on.”

  A smile for the actress. “Thank you, Sarah, I don’t know what I’d do …”

  “And I’ll be ready to drive you over to the set … assuming …” Jack started.

  He shot a look at the producer — “the First Assistant gives us the correct location …”

  Ludo looked confused about that.

  He might be producing this epic but he definitely wasn’t ‘hands on’.

  “And I will look in later,” the doctor said, walking away from the windows, herding all out of the room …

  *

  Ludo sat in one of the sculpted plastic chairs.

  When the attendant who had tried to bar his way walked back, Jack saw the producer raise a meaty finger.

  “And that one … he actually put his hands on me!”

  “Guess it’s part of their job,” Jack said.

  Ludo had agreed to chat a bit before they all left the hospital.

  And based on the man’s habits — as reported by Gary — this might be the only chance to talk … unless they dropped in on him for dinner at The Spotted Pig.

  “People in this country — barbarians!”

  “Different world, different customs,” Jack said, looking at Sarah.

  She picked up the ball. “Ludo, do you have any idea how this might have happened … or the other accidents?’

  Jack hoped that Sarah’s voice might calm this bear who seemed ready to rage at the universe.

  “What?”
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br />   He looked at Sarah as though the question came from Mars.

  “You mean, harm beautiful Zoë? No. Why would anyone want anything bad to happen to such a beautiful, charming actress? That’s completely,” he searched for a word, “insane!”

  Jack nodded in agreement. “That’s just it, Ludo. We don’t have an idea how these things could be happening. Let me ask you this …”

  A pause, Ludo’s eyes trained on Jack …

  “What would happen if Zoë had to leave the production?”

  “Leave the production?” Ludo swivelled his bulky body in his chair as if his head was about to corkscrew off into space. “That would be a total disaster!”

  “You couldn’t simply replace her?” Sarah asked.

  “Replace her? With so many scenes shot, the money invested? That young girl is the movie. Without her …” he blew a stream of air through his rubbery lips, “we have nothing.”

  Ludo looked at his watch, a dramatic look, signalling that he’d had enough chatting in the brightly lit waiting room.

  “I must go. People wanting reports, Bernstein back in Hollywood. Investors get very nervous when they hear stories like this!”

  As Ludo tried to raise his bulky body out of the sculpted chair Jack put a hand on his wrist.

  Ludo looked down at it.

  Right, Jack thought, the man did not like being touched.

  “One more thing, Ludo. And thank you for talking with us.”

  A nod.

  “Is there someone who would benefit if what you were just talking about happened?”

  “Meaning …?”

  Sarah filled in the gap. “Zoë, off the film?”

  Ludo looked away. “I don’t — I mean, a movie always has grievances, rivalries, old grudges. Show me a happy film set,” Ludo said, “and I will show you a fantasy.”

  “So,” Jack pressed on — “there could be people who want harm to come to, what … the studio, the film, the stars … you?”

  Ludo didn’t move or say anything for a long time.

  But his facial expression seemed to show he didn’t like the direction this chat had taken.

  Then he spoke slowly, “Like I said, people … they have their grudges … bad will, hmm? It’s always around.”

  Now Ludo moved as briskly as possible to get out of his chair and again used his stubby finger to make a final point.

  “If the two of you really want to help this girl … you will keep a good eye on her.”

  Sarah stood up and extended a hand to the man.

  “We will. But you know what would really help …” she looked at Jack, “is if we could be given all access to the set, when the movie starts reshooting.”

  Again a pause.

  “Very well, I will tell Alphonso, and Fraser. They will not, as we say — be pleased.”

  “Thank you,” Sarah said.

  Then Ludo turned and rolled out of the waiting room.

  And when he was gone, Jack turned to Sarah.

  “That Ludo … he is something.”

  “Indeed.”

  “But he gave me some ideas. Bit of a talk, while we walk back to the car park? Have some things we could start looking into …”

  Sarah smiled at him, “I thought you would …”

  And they left the room together.

  10. A Fatal Sip

  Jack didn’t say anything until they were out of the hospital building, and had walked over to Sarah’s Rav-4.

  “Good one — asking for carte blanche to go on the set.”

  “Thanks. Though I don’t imagine we’ll be very welcome.”

  Jack grinned at that. “Yes. But at least they can’t throw us off.”

  “We’ll see about that.” Then Sarah asked: “That bit of interrogation of Ludo … your thoughts? I’m assuming you have some.”

  Jack laughed, “Yeah, I always do, don’t I? Okay …”

  He looked around. Today was another beautiful blue sky day; had to be frustrating to lose a day of shooting, but even worse to lose a day like this.

  Even in spring such days could be rare.

  “See, it really looks like Ludo is worried about this film …”

  “I’m sure — with his lead actress threatened.”

  Jack nodded. “Yeah, I guess so … and as to who might want to hurt the film …”

  “Based on what he said, could be anyone.”

  “Right. But what we don’t have is any evidence.”

  “Evidence of … what?”

  “Someone trying to intentionally harm Zoë. All the accidents looking accidental. Now this. People could easily imagine an actress using pain killers. Taking a bit too much. But there is one thing.”

  “What’s that?”

  Jack turned, the sun hitting his face, and for a moment Sarah could see the years of thinking, dealing with murder, life … all etched into his face.

  Sometimes she thought of him as a peer.

  But to see that craggy face now, there was no question that time had taken its toll.

  And yet — she had to admit — what a rugged face.

  Could make some lady of the right age … quite content.

  “Zoë had nothing to eat. Just hit the set. And yet somehow the drug got into her.”

  “Yes — and?”

  He raised hand. “But she did have one thing. A thermos. Her herbal tea. Always by her side.”

  “You think someone spiked it?”

  A nod. “Could be. Anyway, I intend to find out.”

  “How?”

  “The set was cleared after the EMT arrived. I suppose there’s a chance the thermos could still be there.”

  “And we do have permission to go there.”

  “Yup. Though I better not let Alphonso see me,” Jack said, grinning. “And Ludo made me think of something that you could dive into, maybe with Grace’s help …”

  Sarah guessed what that could be. She and Jack’s minds had long ago started running down similar paths.

  “What’s the real story behind this film? Who stands to win if it’s made? Is there anyone who could lose? Did Ludo tell us everything he knows … or is there more?”

  “Just what I was thinking,’ Sarah said. “I’ve got some flyers for the St. James’s Spring Fete to finalise, and another go at a wedding invite — tis the season for that as well. But I’ll hit those fast, then into this …”

  Jack smiled at that. “You know, we did say we could … charge for these services. Maybe send a bill to the film company when we’re done?”

  “Good idea. But to tell you the truth — I’d do this for free.”

  “As would I. Okay, partner — let’s see what we can find …”

  And as Sarah got into her car she thought … hoped … they’d find something soon.

  Because it sounded like tomorrow, the star of The Rose of Cherringham would step back into costume and onto the set of what appeared to be one very dangerous film.

  11. Missing

  Jack glided through the gates of Combe Castle in the black Mercedes, the glorious finale of Turandot filling the car.

  He pulled over halfway down the hill as that swelling chorus swept him back to the last time he’d seen the opera — with Katherine — back at the Met, just a few years ago.

  Dinner on the Grand Tier … a splurge.

  Champagne during the intermissions.

  Staying in a nearby hotel.

  What a night …

  And now, looking down into the valley — the castle, the sweep of the Thames silver in the afternoon sun — he so wished she could be here with him.

  The way they’d planned it. How it should have been …

  The music stopped.

  He turned the player off, took a deep breath, then flicked the car into drive and carried on down the hill.

  *

  Although the car park was still full of trucks and cars, Jack could see that most of the crew had finished for the day.

  Suits me, he thought.

&nb
sp; Checking that nobody was watching, he headed past the prop trucks — now with their shutters down — and up the side steps of the castle towards the door of the Great Hall.

  At the door, he turned the handle — but it didn’t open. And then a voice behind him:

  “It’s locked, mate.”

  Jack turned — to see Gary at the bottom of the steps, carrying what looked like a small tree on his shoulder.

  “Hi Gary.”

  “You looking for something?”

  “Zoë — she left her flask — asked me to drop by, pick it up.”

  “How is she? Everyone’s asking.”

  “She’s going to be fine.”

  Jack watched Gary put down the tree.

  “That’s good,” said Gary. “She’s a nice kid — they’re not all like that.”

  “I bet,” said Jack. “So — umm — don’t suppose you could let me in? So I can just … pick it up?”

  “Would if I could, mate — but I don’t have the key. Secure set — camera department left a lot of gear in there. You’ll have to ask Fraser I’m afraid.”

  “Ah.”

  Gary laughed. “I see your problem.”

  Jack shrugged.

  “Tell you what, Jack — when I see him, I’ll say I left some gear in there, get him to open up. Flask you say?”

  “Yep. Steel. Sentimental value, y’know?”

  “Gotcha. Though I wouldn’t hold out much hope. I did a bit of a sweep round after lunch — think I would have seen it if it had been there.”

  “Funny,” said Jack. “It definitely wasn’t in her bag — the one we took to hospital.”

  He watched Gary shrug. “Maybe someone binned it. Or — maybe it walked. Hate to have to say it, but it happens — even on a film set. Know what I mean?”

  “Maybe,” said Jack. He waited to see if Gary had any more to say but the prop man just nodded glumly.

  “So Gary — what’s with the tree?”

  “Setting up for the big night shoot tomorrow evening down by the river,” said Gary. “Alphonso doesn’t like the view. My job is to change it till he does, and that includes more damn trees. Director’s totally daft …”

  “Everyone else is down there, huh?”

  “Director, heads of department, yeah. Rest of the crew got twenty-four hours off. What with Zoë not being available.”