by Nikki Attree
Now she had the modus operandi, and she just needed means, motive, and opportunity. She showed the incriminating tapes to the police officer in charge of the original investigation, and he was persuaded to interview the only people who had the means and opportunity to tamper with them: the security guards.
It quickly became clear that only one of them had a motif. His wife: Rita, was one of the competitors in the terrier group, and when they interviewed her the truth was revealed. She confessed to having had a longtime grudge against Mrs Ashley-Cooper. Rita was convinced that her rival had friends in high places, connections in Crofts, show judges who favoured her. In Rita’s mind this was why Ashley-Cooper’s dogs always made it to the final, and why it should be her own Yorkie: Rosie Lee (show name: ‘I-Am-Who-I-Am-Not-a-Drama-Queen’) in the ring, instead of Snooty.
After twenty years of showing dogs, and always being pipped at the post, it became an obsession for Rita, eating away at her. Finally she couldn’t take it any more, and she and her husband came up with a plan to exact revenge on their rival: “that stuck-up Sophie Ashley-Whatsit bitch.”
He worked part-time as a nightclub bouncer and had no trouble getting a job as a security guard at Crofts. Once he was in charge of monitoring the CCTV cameras, it was straightforward to choose a moment on the final day when Snooty was alone, and Rita could lace his food with poison. Her husband then wiped those three minutes from the video, and replaced them with footage from the previous day’s tape.
After several hours of interrogation Rita broke down and admitted that she had poisoned Snooty, but insisted that she’d never meant to kill the dog, just to “make him a bit sick.” In floods of tears she told them that she’d made a mistake and put too much poison in Snooty’s food. Apparently she’d been devastated when he’d died and had wanted to give herself up, but her husband had stopped her.
“I don’t know what came over me” she sobbed. “It’s the pressure. Made me lose the plot. I love dogs, and I ended up killing him. It wasn’t his fault, poor little Snooty. I hate myself. I deserve to be punished.”
She and her husband were arrested and Rita pleaded guilty to all the charges. The magistrate believed her confession: that she’d made a dreadful mistake with the poison, and never meant to kill the dog. She was so clearly full of remorse that she was given a suspended sentence, and ordered to do six months community service at the London Dogs Refuge.
The case attracted plenty of media attention. Outside the court, Rita made a short, but heartfelt statement: “I’m truly sorry for what I did, and I’m giving up the whole breeding, dog show malarky. There are too many screwed-up people in that world, and I was the worst of them all. No prize can ever be more important than an animal’s welfare. From now on I’m going to spend all my time helping the rescue centres. Looking after dogs that have been abandoned, instead of running after fame and prizes in stupid beauty contests.”
Along with Rita, Annie was also briefly in the news. She appeared on TV for a few seconds, and the next day the tabloids ran headlines like: ‘It’s a Fur Cop!’, calling her the ‘Dreadlocks Detective’, and comparing her to Ace Ventura (Hollywood’s version of a pet detective). The publicity put ‘Happy Tails’ on the map, and brought a lot of new clients. Business was booming and she was able to employ Tommy (her neighbour’s reformed teenage hooligan son) to do some of the spadework. He was a quick learner, good at persuading shady types to divulge information, and great at watching her back.
As we shall discover, her brief spell in the limelight had further ramifications. The publicity was eventually responsible for forging a triangle of links between Annie, Jack, and Elizabeth. But all in good time ...
* * *
While all this was going on, Jack had been busy furthering his own career, by staking out their next victim. Long hours of surveillance at the big house next to Hampstead Heath, trying to devise a plan to nab the dog, left him exhausted. Plus he needed to escape from his partner’s joyless company. Annie was his escape.
Jack was taking things slowly with her, getting to know her as a friend, before things got too complicated. She was the first woman that really intrigued him as a person (rather than just a body). Annie was a lot more complex than his previous girlfriends. Whereas they had been only too happy to tell him all about their lives, in mind-numbingly boring detail, she just let a few intriguing hints slip out gradually.
There was the mystery of what she did for a living, for a start. At the dog show they’d asked each other about their jobs, and neither had been exactly forthcoming. She’d said that she was some sort of “freelance researcher”, and hinted that it sometimes involved animals. He’d described himself as an “entrepreneur” who’d recently teamed up with his partner to start “a new business venture.” He’d let slip that his job also involved animals, but he was willing to bet that her involvement with them was rather more ethical than his.
To be fair to Jack, he was starting to feel a bit guilty about being a dognapper, and she was partly responsible. He justified it by telling himself that crime was his best chance to escape from the ghetto, and make enough money to look after his mum. He was adamant that no animals would be hurt in the process. In fact, as we’ve seen, he’d discovered that he really liked dogs, and was starting to bond with his hostages.
So, that’s why neither of them was able to be more forthcoming about their jobs, and why each had the feeling that the other may have been a bit economical with the truth. Their careers both relied on it.
Clearly, for Jack, crime could only pay if no-one found out about it; and for Annie, discretion was just as essential. They actually had more in common than they were prepared to admit. They might be playing a cagey “just good friends” game for now, but there was no denying that romance was on the cards, and they both knew it.
5 SOMEBODY’S DOODLE
Nikki is sat in front of her computer in El Blowo, Tenerife. Gizmo is on her lap. She’s checking his Facebook page (SnrGizmo-TenerifeDogs) while cutting little knots of matted fur with a pair of grooming scissors. She’s just started reading a shocking post. A friend’s dogs have been poisoned with an industrial pesticide. The friend lives in a village up in the mountains. The pesticide is illegal, but when her friend reported it to the local police, they threatened to arrest her.
“Unbelievable!” Nikki thinks, but sadly this isn’t the first time it’s happened. She’s just putting fingers to keyboard to warn Gizmo’s Facebook amigos, when the phone rings. Grabbing it with one hand and tugging on a particularly tricky bit of matted fur with the other, she answers it tersely: “hola?”
There’s a brief pause, and then a manicured English voice: “hi, is that Nikki? I’d just like to have a chat with you about making a film of your book.”
Nikki is in no mood for jokes. Her friend’s story has upset her, and she’s angry about the police’s response. Gizmo sees his chance to escape the grooming scissors while Nikki is distracted, and tries to wriggle free. Nikki wrestles with him, while speaking into the phone: “who is this? Do I know you?”
“No, no you don’t, but I’m a big fan. My name is Elizabeth Parker-Smyth. I’m a senior producer at Cutting Edge Films. We produce award-winning romantic comedies. Perhaps you’ve seen ‘Forever a Bridesmaid’? And some quite successful action movies like um, ‘Tough Guy’ and ‘Hardcore Hell’? Anyway, we’ve been looking for the right opportunity to diversify our output, and we think that ‘Nobody’s Poodle’ could be the next doggie blockbuster.”
“Is this some kind of wind-up or what?”
“No, I really loved the book. It actually helped me patch things up with my daughter, but that’s another story. The point is: since ‘Marley and Me’ dog movies have been big box-office, and then along comes ‘The Artist’. Everyone knows that the Jack Russell is the real star. Have you noticed how every TV commercial has to have a cute dog in it these days? Anyway, look, the thing is: we think that Gizmo could be the next Marley, Lassie or Uggie ...”
&n
bsp; A long pause as Nikki digests this. The digestive process leaves her momentarily lost for words. Meanwhile Gizmo attempts to digest a clump of his own hair. Nikki grabs it from him and makes a sort of spluttering noise.
“Are you there? This line seems to be rather crackly.”
“Um yes. Sorry Elizabeth. I’m just a bit gob-smacked. We wrote ‘Nobody’s Poodle’ as a bit of a laugh really. And because I’m involved in helping the rescue centres here of course. OK, at the end we play around with Gizmo imagining that he’s some kind of celebrity, but we never thought that might actually happen!”
“Well, I’ve already discussed it with my boss, and he’s given me a budget to green-light the project for development. Nikki, honestly, it’s got some really strong elements. It’s a traditional feel-good movie. There’s plenty of twists and turns, lots of laughs, a few tears, and a happy ending. Have you read your Amazon reviews recently? Your book, it reaches out and touches people. You owe it to your public to deliver it to a wider audience. Seriously ... at least have a think about it.”
Nikki is tentatively beginning to entertain the possibility that however far-fetched it seems, this might just be for real. Or if not, then it’s a bloody good scam. But then, what could this Elizabeth woman get out of it? All the same, best to be cautious.
“OK. Let’s for a moment assume that you’re genuine. What’s involved for us?”
Elizabeth relaxes a little. She knows how persuasive she can be in full pitch mode.
“Well, obviously we’ll courier a contract out to you. Of course there’ll be an advance, and then we’ll need to bring Gizmo over here to do some screen tests. Everyone in the office absolutely adores him from his Facebook page, and we’re all convinced that he’ll be a star. Don’t worry, we’ll look after him. He’ll get the full five star media celeb treatment. Oh and I nearly forgot, I’ve actually got a Doodle myself. They are totally gorgeous dogs aren’t they?”
“Well yes, they are.” Gizmo looks at Nikki, pouts, and farts loudly.
“There are just a few minor plot details that might need a bit of tweaking.” Elizabeth continues, in full flight now. “As the author, you’ll have an input of course, but the screen play will have to be tweaked, as I say, to make it work for the screen. Nothing that will detract from the book’s message, so you needn’t worry.”
Nikki smells a rat (or maybe it’s just Gizmo’s fart?). “When you say that it needs 'tweaking’, what kind of changes do you mean? I thought you said you were a fan of the book? You do know that Gizmo is a kind of spokesmutt don’t you? He’s a role model for thousand of his furry amigos, so he can’t be involved in anything that’s not dog-friendly. I mean, you can’t have him doing anything out of character just because it suits the film, or makes more money for you.”
“No, no, really you don’t need to worry Nikki. Look, you already use Gizmo’s Facebook page to promote his ethical stance on dog issues and we love all that. It’s fantastic PR, and you’ll get the chance to tap into a much bigger fan-base, to promote his message.”
Nikki stares at the computer screen. Her Facebook friend’s terrible story stares back. She’s skeptical. Phone calls like this only happen in books or movies. Gizmo gives her one of his big-eyed cute looks, and somehow it helps to make up her mind.
“What have we got to lose?” she thinks. “If this film actually happens, then she’s right: Giz will get loads more people reading his page; and if not, then no worries.” She’s a bit concerned about sending him to London, even though Elizabeth has told her that he’ll be well looked after, but they could definitely do with the advance dosh.
“OK Elizabeth, so you were about to explain this 'tweaking’ stuff ... I mean, ‘Nobody’s Poodle’ is set here in Tenerife. Why does Giz need to go to the UK? Can’t you come here to film him?”
“Yes, we will be filming on location in Tenerife, but the interior scenes would have to be shot here at Pinewood. As I say, don’t worry, Gizmo will get five-star treatment while he’s here. I’ll personally guarantee that. We’ll book him into a very exclusive dog hotel near the studio. All the famous canine actors stay there when they’re filming. He’ll ride to the studio every day in a limo, and he’ll get every luxury known to dog.”
Gizmo is still giving Nikki his “I’m so adorable” look, and she can’t help smiling, imagining him being pampered in a five star dog hotel complete with Jacuzzis, groomers, fine dining, etc.
Elizabeth knows that she’s nearly there now, and plays her winning card: “the other thing is that he’ll have a doggie companion. This is one of the tweaks that we’d like to make. We want to expand the Katie role, and build up the romantic angle for the film. So he’ll have a costar; and here’s the really brilliant tweak: the love interest will be an identical Labradoodle.”
Gizmo makes a kind of subdued growling noise that seems to be saying: “now look ‘ere missus, no other woofer could possibly be ‘identical’ to me!” In reality he’s just noticed some birds flying past Nikki’s window. They aren’t allowed in his airspace, and they need to be told. She grabs him before subdued growling becomes a full-on woof-fest.
“Are you still there Nikki?” Elizabeth ploughs on enthusiastically, explaining how the ‘brilliant tweak’ of identical canine costars could ‘light up the plot’ with some cunning capers and mistaken identity twists, whilst all the while they would be playing on differences in their backgrounds to generate an opposites-attract style lurve interest.
“And the thing is, we’ve already got a costar for Gizmo. She’s called ‘Doodle’, and she’s actually staying in my house right now. If you look online at this week’s Sunday Times magazine you’ll see a picture of her in the ‘Celebrity Pets’ page. You’ll see she’s gorgeous, and she looks just like Gizmo. I can’t wait to get them together on set for a screen test.”
Nikki is grinning now. Not only will Giz be getting the pampered pooch treatment, but he’ll also be scoring this foxy Doodle bitch to romp with.
Elizabeth delivers her final revelation: “and guess what? The woman holding her in the Sunday Times picture is me! You see, Doodle is my dog. I just know that they’ll be great together. And that’s also how you know that you can trust me. I’m a dog person, just like you Nikki, and there’s absolutely no way that I’d let any harm come to either of our dogs.”
Nikki and Gizmo look at each quizzically. For Gizmo this involves tilting his head slightly to one side and sort of squinting through one eye (he’s a big fan of ‘Wallace and Gromit’ after all). That does it. Her mind is made up. Giz deserves his turn in the spotlight with Elizabeth’s foxy Doodle.
“Well, OK Elizabeth. Send me the contract and we’ll take it from there. If we do agree to let Gizmo be in the film then I’ll hold you personally responsible for his safety. And believe me, if anything bad happens to him your life won’t be worth living. You’ll have thousands of his furry amigos to reckon with, as well as me.”
Nikki puts the phone down with a rye smile. “What a turn up for the book, eh Giz?” she thinks, “I can’t wait to tell Richard about this.” She turns back to her computer, and her mood blackens again as she rereads her Facebook friend’s post. The world can be a really bleak place if you’re a dog. Gizmo does his Gromit look again. “But not for you my lad ...” she says to him. “Looks like you’re going to be giving Uggie a run for his money.”
Elizabeth puts the phone down with a knowing smile. She’s good at her job, and she knows it. “Yep, I certainly know how to deal with these creative types” she thinks. “They might write the stuff, but it’s the producer who makes it happen.” She gets straight to work creating a preproduction project management spreadsheet for ‘Nobody’s Poodle’.
She loves this stage of a new project. Preproduction takes place in her superbly comfy office, or sometimes sitting in her garden, working from home on her lap top. She’s more or less in charge of her day. At this stage there are no messy problems with the crew (they haven’t yet been hired); no self-obsessed di
rectors’ egos to massage (just organising a short list for interviews); no petulant actors to placate (just conversations with casting directors and agents); no getting up at the crack of dawn to film all day on location in the rain and sleet ... Just a blank spreadsheet with lots of lovely empty cells to be filled in, the full budget at the bottom, and no minus figures to juggle as they chop away at it.
The next day she instructs Cutting Edge Films’ lawyers to draw up a contract for the authors, and has it sent by express courier to Nikki and Richard in Tenerife. A few days later she receives a signed copy back from them, along with their consent for Gizmo’s role in the film. She starts to make plans for his arrival, and block books one of the smaller studios at Pinewood for a month of low budget shooting.
Her relationship with her daughter is improving. For once Miranda seems to be happy at school and at home, and she’s even making an effort to look after Doodle. “Maybe she’s finally got over the breakup” she wonders, “or maybe this dog responsibility thing is working after all.” Whatever the reason, Miranda does seem to have fallen in love with her dog all over again, and her mum isn’t public-enemy-number-one either.
The real reason for the Mother-Daughter-Dog bonding is that once Miranda found out that Doodle was going to be a celebrity pooch she was flavour-of-the-month again. Doodle can’t believe all the newfound attention. She hasn’t felt this loved since she was a pup. “Better enjoy it while I can” she thinks, “It won’t last. Give it another few weeks and it’ll be back to eight hour stretches stuck indoors waiting for Cheryl to let me out for a wee, if she can be bothered to turn up.”
