The editor’s head started nodding, then shaking.
Hard enough to inherit the responsibility for piecing a mess of a picture together; Wally also probably realised he had to take orders from almost anyone.
Including me, Jack thought.
“No. That’s okay, Just tell me what you need, and I can set it all up.”
Jack clapped a hand on the man’s back.
“Great. Okay,” Jack grabbed a nearby straight-backed chair and pulled it close to the long table with the giant black console overseen by the three monitors.
“I’d like to review any footage, anything shot at all by any of the cameras for some specific scenes.”
The man’s head nodded.
“I want to see the footage from the day that Zoë got thrown from her horse, for starters. Then — that sword accident, when somehow a real sword was used in the scene between the King and Cromwell.”
Another nod.
Jack nodded, still keeping his smile in place.
As if reassuring Wally that this was all okay, nothing to worry about.
“Then lastly — when Zoë became sick, the scene in the castle.”
The man gulped.
If it wasn’t completely unlikely, Jack would have thought that the editor was acting guilty.
But Jack guessed that Wally was simply one of those people who acted guilty even when they bought a newspaper and a pack of gum.
“Safety first, hmm Wally? Want to make sure nothing was missed.”
Finally, the editor spoke.
“Okay. That’s a lot. A hell of a lot. It’s gonna take a while.” He gestured to the control panel. “Ever use one of these before?”
“Can’t say I have. Looks like the instrument panel of a 747.”
The man smiled. His domain for now, he seemed proud of all its knobs and blinking lights.
“Easier than that, I think. But I — I’ll have to show you. So you can see everything. A tutorial.”
“Sounds good to me.”
Am I going to find anything here? Jack wondered.
And the even bigger question: of all the people who might want this film production shut down, was there one of them who would sacrifice young Zoë’s life to do just that?
“All right. Let’s start with the basics …” Wally began.
And Jack knew it was going to be a long morning …
*
“So, once the sequence you want is loaded, you can scroll back and forth, frame by frame, using this knob, one for each monitor.”
Wally twirled the round knob and showed how the scene on the monitor above — moments before Zoë entered on her black horse — could be reviewed slowly.
“And zooming?”
“When paused, you can use this mouse-like controller to centre where you want to zoom, left click for an option, and then get in as tight as you like.”
Jack nodded.
Not too difficult. And Wally had said he could provide a log of all the cameras that shot footage … before, during and after the events that all turned dangerous for Zoë.
Jack pointed to a monitor to the left where the same scene was cued, but from a different angle.
“All three cameras — they always running?”
“Not in all scenes. But for the big scenes, yes. These days, with no film, the cameras just roll even before the director calls ‘action’. There’s a master log of which camera is ‘active’, tags of when the shot begins, ends … but there are always back-ups from the other cameras for getting settings, any cutaways as needed.”
Jack nodded.
The machine — easy to operate. But with so much video to review …
Daunting.
“Okay. Think … I’m ready.”
“The log book there has the digital file numbers for all the dates, times, scenes you want to review, marked for each camera.”
The editor got up, and turned away as if about to leave the room.
“Hey, hold on, Wally. You’re not … leaving me here?”
That made the man freeze in his tracks.
“Um, I’m not sure you really need me.”
Jack weighed the option here. He could look at everything privately, but he would certainly get through it all faster with the assistant editor’s help.
“Think it would be good idea for you to stay …” Jack smiled. “Case I get stuck. Maybe … go grab us a coffee. But come back?”
Jack wondered if he would need to again use the magical and all-powerful name of Ludo Peciak. But Wally simply nodded. “Okay, sure. I’ll do that.”
Jack turned back to the monitors, the fields of Pelham’s farm about to be filled with horses, soldiers, crew … the shot coming together. “A bit of cream, sweetener will do me,” Jack said.
And then he reached out and grabbed the centre knob; he could move through the next moments slowly.
But for now, just by pressing down, the scene began to roll …
16. Back to the Set
Sarah had briefed Daniel and Chloe on how it was quite okay to be excited about going to the set with the film’s young star — but not to drive her crazy with questions.
She had picked up Zoë at her parents’ house; the star lugging a canvas bag with personal items and — in her right hand — a new silver thermos.
“Your mum — she’s so sweet. She said I could use this. Feel like my hot herbal tea is my magic feather, like Dumbo, you know,” she said as she got in.
The actress looked pale; no makeup on at all, almost like any other young woman in scruffy jeans and a sweater on her day off.
And as soon as she got in, she turned to Sarah’s kids.
“Hello you two. Big day — visiting the set?”
Sarah noticed that her kids seemed to be following her instructions a little too closely, sitting mute as if someone had taped their mouths shut.
But as Sarah drove away from the house — seeing her mum and dad standing at the sitting room window, looking on … Chloe finally did more than nod.
“We’re both … looking forward to it.”
She saw Zoë nod as well, her voice light, as if she hadn’t just been in the hospital after getting her stomach pumped — “Well, you’ll see there’s a lot of hurry up, hurry up — and then wait, hang on …! Still,” a look to Daniel, “tonight, with all the horses, soldiers, and cannons exploding … It really should be something.”
Cannons, Sarah thought.
Considering how dangerous the production had seemed, cannons weren’t exactly something to look forward to.
It was bad enough having a bucking horse, and a prop sword turned real.
But explosions, with muskets and gunpowder?
Sarah gripped the wheel.
More than simply escorting Zoë to the set, she knew something else, something Jack had agreed was important.
Keep an eye on Zoë.
Because while the star might seem plucky, and unafraid of the night shoot to come …
Sarah was afraid for her, as was Jack.
Zoë turned back to the front.
She leaned over, and patted Sarah’s arm.
“Thanks for the lift, Sarah. It means a lot.”
Sarah nodded. She had told the actress that Jack was going to review the footage for anything unusual.
And Zoë — for her part — had agreed to say she wanted Sarah to bring her, especially coming from hospital.
A few minutes into the drive, Sarah looked over.
And asked an obvious question …
“You feeling okay?”
A nod. Then: “Yeah. Maybe a bit wobbly, but I’ve already held up this film long enough. God, the crew must hate me.”
Sarah knew that that they were indeed grumbling.
But that — she thought — should be the least of Zoë’s worries.
“You know if at any time you’re not feeling well … not up to it, you really should stop.”
Zoë turned to Sarah.
“The show must go o
n, right? Besides, I really do feel okay.” She tilted her thermos back and forth. “I’ve got my herbal, and your mum made sure I had a good lunch. They’ve been wonderful, Sarah. You’re really lucky.”
“I agree.”
They’ve always been there for me, she thought.
Then, with a determined nod. “I’ll be fine. Long day. Complicated. Night shoot. But,” deep breath, “it will all be okay.”
“Good,” Sarah said.
Hoping that Zoë was right …
*
Jack turned to Wally. “Did any of these cameras capture the horses getting lined up?”
The assistant editor stood up, putting his newspaper down, and came close to the console.
“Um, I haven’t reviewed all the second and third cameras. But I guess, yeah … on the left monitor. Looks like if you go slowly you can catch the horses being led by the wranglers.
“Okay. Let’s just give that a shot.”
The other two monitors showed the actors moving into position on their horses, the shot being set up, awaiting Lady Ann’s dramatic arrival on the big black, and Cromwell’s challenge to his King over the lady.
Now — a few frames in, the horses and their handlers in position, Jack used the wheel on the left to cycle through the footage, just a rolling shot of the fields and hills to the north that would probably never be part of the film.
Then — he saw, off to one corner, the black horse, being held by one of the wranglers.
And the horse reared up.
Once, then again, the stallion jerking its head left and right as if it wanted nothing to do with what was happening.
And the wrangler, a big guy, a good six feet tall, with rolled-up sleeves showing meaty arms, struggling to keep the horse steady.
A few frames further in, and there was Fraser Haines.
Jack watched as the wrangler turned to talk to the 1st Assistant Director. But with no sound, it was impossible to tell what was going on. But the wrangler pointed to the great, dark head of the black stallion.
Which is when Fraser raised his arms in a universal display of exasperation.
Or irritation?
Did he want the wrangler just to get the horse calmed down? Or was the wrangler saying there was a problem? Or maybe Fraser was feeling worried with the big Lady Ann scene ahead, and the star horse acting like a high-strung prima donna?
No way to tell.
But as Jack zoomed in …
The wrangler’s face set, a near scowl.
Fraser’s hand pointing at the horse.
So Jack knew this: minutes before Zoë got onto that horse, Fraser spoke to the handler.
To find out what was wrong? To tell him to get some damn control over the steed?
And then a question that no camera could answer: did Fraser come over and do that on his own?
No answers.
Not yet. But it was something.
Jack looked up at the editor. “Looks like they knew that horse was having a bad day …”
But the editor said nothing.
*
Sarah parked her old Rav-4 next to the long line of trucks, coaches, and cars that filled the field next to Combe Castle. Jack had said this was a big production but she never imagined it involved so many people.
Zoë, Chloe, and Daniel climbed out.
“Come on,” said Zoë. “I’ll take you guys over to makeup and wardrobe. You wanted to meet the stars, didn’t you?”
“Wow,” said Daniel. “Karl Bildt — he’s going to be there?”
“Well he’d better be,” said Zoë, “or he’s going to be in the same trouble I was the other day.”
Sarah climbed out and locked the car. She could see that Zoë was suddenly, brighter, more alert …
Arriving on set had energised her — and now she seemed anything but your average woman on a day off. She looked capable of anything …
Sarah, Chloe, and Daniel followed the young movie star as she strode across the field and down towards the river.
“This is just awesome,” said Daniel, pointing up to the hillside. “They’ve got a whole army up there!”
Sarah looked across at the meadow, which rose away from the castle. Groups of soldiers in what she guessed were Royalist uniforms stood in groups eating, drinking, chatting, checking their horses and weapons.
They were getting ready for the night shoot — but had they been preparing for battle they couldn’t have looked more realistic.
And all around, as she and the others threaded their way through trucks full of equipment, Sarah saw the crew — carrying gear, moving props, laying cables, pulling trolleys of mysterious equipment down towards the river.
“Here we are,” said Zoë, stopping at a line of big trailers and motor-homes. “The friendliest place on any shoot — the makeup truck!”
On cue Sarah saw the door open and Karl appear. In black leggings and an open white silk shirt he looked like Heathcliff to Zoë’s Cathy.
“I thought I recognised that beautiful voice,” he said, climbing down the step to kiss Zoë on both cheeks. “How are you my angel?”
“Never felt better,” said Zoë, throwing her arms around her co-star and hugging him tight. “Especially seeing you, Karl.”
Little does she know how much Karl wants to see his angel off the shoot, thought Sarah.
Karl stepped over to Sarah and kissed her too. “Sarah, darling — how terrific you’ve come too!”
“Wouldn’t miss your performance for the world,” said Sarah. But though she was sure he understood exactly what she really meant by that, he ignored the sarcasm.
“Tonight’s going to be one helluva scene,” he said. Then he turned: “And this must be Daniel and Chloe — Sarah told me all about you guys yesterday.”
Sarah watched her two kids — still frozen in the headlights.
“Want to come hang with us in makeup for a while?” said Karl.
“That would be amazing,” said Chloe.
“That okay with you, Mum?” said Karl.
Mum? thought Sarah.
“Oh I think — Mum — is quite happy about that,” said Sarah. “Mum’s got to go find Sophie …”
As Karl disappeared back into the makeup truck, Sarah put her arm around her two children. “Now don’t get in the way, will you?” she said quietly.
“Course not, Mum,” said Daniel.
Chloe rolled her eyes as if to say — please stop treating me like a kid …
Sarah watched them follow Karl into the truck, then turned to Zoë: “Maybe you could point them at the tea place when you’re all done?”
“I think Alphonso’s aiming to turn over at about eight,” said Zoë. “Don’t worry — I’ll make sure they find you before then.”
“Thanks, Zoë,” said Sarah. “You’re looking terrific by the way — and I’m sure tonight’s going to be just brilliant.”
Zoë gave her a quick hug. “Thanks Sarah — it’s been great having you on my side.”
Then, as the young star disappeared into makeup Sarah turned and headed down towards the river.
She wasn’t as confident as she had sounded.
She suspected that unless Jack was making any progress, this night shoot could end up being anything but brilliant.
And if he didn’t manage to find anything in the footage — it was going to be up to her to sniff out the culprit …
17. It’s All in the Edit
Jack leaned back in the chair and stretched, before checking his watch. It was nearly six.
According to the call sheet on the editor’s desk, the crew were hoping to start shooting in a couple of hours — just around sunset.
The magic hour …
And Jack knew he could do with some magic right now. He and Wally had spent hours going through all the footage of the fight scene in which Zoë had been injured by a real sword. But none of the cameras had captured the moment when the sword had been switched.
And — the whole crew had been arou
nd the camera that day, so any one of them could have been involved and easily gotten away with it.
The door behind Jack opened and he turned. Wally walked in carrying a tray with a plate of sandwiches.
“This is all they had,” said Wally, putting the tray down next to Jack and taking a seat. “Caterers are over at the castle feeding the crew, so they left just these for us guys here.”
Jack reached out and grabbed a sandwich.
“Much obliged,” he said, taking a mouthful. “Mmm, now that is what I call a real BLT …”
It wasn’t a hot meal — but it was still a pretty classy sandwich.
One thing Jack had discovered: the hours on a movie might be long, but the food was a major compensation.
“How long are you around today, Wally?” he said.
“Guess I’ll knock off around nine,” the editor replied.
“Any chance you can cue up the footage from the castle? I’d like to take a look.”
“The interiors, you mean?”
“Yep,” said Jack. “Zoë did a big scene in the hall — went on all morning I’m told.”
“All right,” said Wally. “There won’t be much — just an A and a B camera.”
“Yeah, it was a pretty small room,” said Jack. “No room for lots of cameras — or crew.”
Which at least narrows down the field of suspects, he thought.
Jack watched as Wally typed instructions into the desk and the screens above flickered into life.
He leaned forward in his chair. He had to concentrate.
Zoë’s life might depend on what he discovered in the next hour.
*
When Sarah reached the river bank she could hardly believe what she was seeing. Jack had told her about the Puritan army camped in the far meadows.
But now the entire army was lining up, ready for action and she could see that the scale of the scene ahead was huge. Long lines of soldiers, ranks of horsemen, were forming up in front of scores of cannon — all aimed across the river at the castle.
She could see carpenters hard at work rigging some kind of jetty on the far bank. And in the water, she spotted a man spray-painting a rowing boat with a small can.
Maybe that was the prop man who’d helped Jack — what was his name — Gary?
Cherringham--Final Cut Page 8
