Murder, Murder, Little Star

by Marian Babson

Twinkle, who - perhaps - might not have realized that such a trick could be fatal.

  Twinkle, who had - to all intents and purposes - no mother to guide her.

  Or was it that Twinkle was impossible to guide? Was Laurenda's attitude towards her daughter not merely indifference, but a tacit admission that Twinkle was beyond control? Was Twinkle one of nature's 'sports' -a maverick, a renegade, who recognized no rules, bowed to no laws? Was Twinkle, in reality, the monster that other members of the Unit had accused her of being?

  Frances glanced down to find Twinkle regarding her sombrely. She instantly felt guilty, as though Twinkle might have read her thoughts.

  'You were staring at me,' Twinkle said. She looked tiny and defenceless slumped in the big. overstuffed chair, her toes not quite touching the ground. She had changed into one of the new smocked tops her mother had bought for her and seemed lost inside it. Surely Laurenda could have found something that fitted better.

  'I'm sorry,' Frances apologized. 'I was a million miles away,' she added, not quite truthfully.

  'So was I,' Twinkle said. 'Only not a million -just a few thousand. Can't we go back to California now?'

  'Not until the picture is finished!' Mr Herkimer had overheard and whirled on them. 'We have everything here now - the sets, the costumes, the musicians, the technicians. We must finish the picture before we leave. It's much better working here.'

  'You mean, it's much cheaper here,' Twinkle corrected.

  'That too,' Mr Herkimer admitted. 'But mostly, it's better. And, anyway, I'm not sure the police will let us go until after the investigation and inquest, so we might as well keep right on working. It will take our minds off things.'

  'Police?' Laurenda sat upright, throwing off Dick Brouder's arm. 'What have the police got to do with

  this?'

  'Routine - ' First said hastily. 'It's just routine in this country. In the case of accident or sudden death, the police have to see that an inquest is held and satisfy themselves as to what happened.'

  'But we know what happened,' Laurenda said indignantly. 'We all saw him fall.'

  'Then all you have to do is say so when the police ask,' First assured her. 'It's not an Inquisition, or anything like that. It's just a question of form.'

  'I want to have an investigation myself,' Mr Herkimer said abruptly. 'Such a thing has never happened before on a picture of mine. I want to know what went wrong. And what was all that poor Morrie was yelling about water just before he hit the ground?'

  Laurenda moaned and sank back in her chair.

  'Can't you be more careful?' Dick Brouder snapped. 'It's been a hell of a day. Everybody is in a very sensitive mood.'

  Ilse gave a faint sob.

  'Sorry,' Mr Herkimer backed down hastily. 'You're absolutely right. I'm sorry. Tomorrow will be time enough. We'll look into it then.'

  'Chips and Props are helping the police check over the sets now,' said First. 'They'll know if anything is missing or out of place. They're going to come round with their report as soon as they've finished.'

  'Fine,' Mr Herkimer said. 'And the police, too, are busy. They've taken away the film of poor Morrie and they're going to develop it in their own laboratories and see if it shows up what happened. Then, when they come back to us, they'll know what questions to ask. Yes, things are moving. That's what I like to see -action! Isn't that right, Tor?' He looked towards his silent partner.

  'I'd be happier if they hadn't had to close down the set for the day - ' Tor Torrington broke off as the atmosphere in the room changed and he realized how unfeeling he had sounded. 'But you're right, Herkie, absolutely right.' He looked around at the others. 'I endorse everything Herkie has said.'

  'Thank you, Tor.' Mr Herkimer swept a triumphant look around the room. 'I value your faith in my judgement.' He seemed to feel that the whole matter had been settled satisfactorily.

  'I always have faith in your judgement,' Tor said hollowly. He, at least, appeared to realize that there might still be difficulties to come.

  'We ought to pull out now, don't you think - ?' First weighed in with a judgement of his own. 'Let these ladies get some rest? They've had a rough day.'

  'Good idea,' Mr Herkimer approved. 'Come, come - ' He beckoned Dick Brouder. 'We must let them get their beauty sleep.'

  'I just want to go over a couple of points with Laurenda,' Dick said. 'I'll meet you down in your suite in a few minutes.'

  'I'm not sleepy,' Twinkle said.

  'No one asked you!' Laurenda glared at her daughter. 'Frances, put her to bed, please.'

  'I can go myself.' Indignation brought Twinkle to her feet and moved her forward a few steps in a reflex action.

  'Then go!' It seemed that Laurenda was able to exert some parental authority when she was sufficiently annoyed.

  'Come along.' Frances closed in behind Twinkle, cutting off her retreat and herded her towards the doorway.

  'No!' At the door, Twinkle balked suddenly. 'I'm not going until he leaves.'

  'That's all right,' Tor Torrington said. 'He's coming with us now, aren't you, Dick?' It was an order.

  Reluctantly, Dick Brouder abandoned Laurenda and followed Tor out into the foyer. Mr Herkimer paused in the doorway and looked slowly around the room with the air of a general counting his survivors after a heavy battle.

  'Ah, well,' he sighed. 'Get a good night's sleep.'

  CHAPTER XVII

  In the morning, Twinkle ate her breakfast with a dark and brooding mien that gave warning that she was determined to be more difficult than usual. Before the end of the day, she would be insufferable.

  When they reached the studio, it became increasingly clear that Twinkle was reserving her deadliest venom for Dick Brouder. She had begun rehearsals without a hint of insubordination, lulling everyone into a false sense of security. It was not until the cameras actually began to turn that the others became aware that she was subtly sabotaging the scene.

  'Phew! - look at that.' Beside Frances, First whistled soundlessly. 'She's using the old shifting focus trick - at her age! Believe me, that kid could give the CIA lessons in the Department of Dirty Tricks!'

  'I don't understand.' Frances frowned at the scene going on in front of her. It was the same - and yet it wasn't. The cameras had begun to roll on a close-up of Twinkle and Cecile Savoy facing each other.

  Both had been positioned so that they would occupy equal screen space, as befitted Cecile's status. In fact, the advantage had seemed ever so slightly to be with Cecile Savoy.

  Now, however, the whole scene had altered. Twinkle was facing straight into the camera - but all the camera was recording of Cecile Savoy was the back of her head. The advantage was now definitely Twinkle's.

  'What happened?' Frances asked, bewildered.

  'Cut!' Dick Brouder shouted, 'Cut - Goddamnit!'

  Cecile Savoy whirled to face him, livid with fury. 'Did you see that ? I must protest - '

  'It's all right, Cecile, I saw it,' Dick Brouder said wearily. 'That's why I stopped the scene. Now, we're going to take it again - from the beginning. And, this time, Twinkle, don't get funny.'

  'What? What's the matter? What did I do?' Twinkle quivered with righteous indignation.

  'You changed position,' Cecile Savoy said.

  'I didn't move! Look - ' Twinkle gestured towards her feet, still neatly inside the chalk marks set for them. 'I haven't moved an inch. You can see the chalk marks!'

  'That's enough, Twinkle,' Dick Brouder said. 'We all know what you've done. Just don't do it again.

  Now - from the beginning, please.'

  'What did she do?' Frances asked First quietly. ' I don't know.'

  'She pulled a fast one,' First said. 'You see the way she's standing now, so that both of them have their faces in focus ?'

  Frances nodded.

  'Well, she started out by putting all her weight on to one foot. You can't tell - unless you're watching for it -that an actor has done that. It's one of the oldest and sneakiest tricks in the ga
me. The other mug has his weight evenly distributed on both feet, the way anyone would expect. Then - Look, look, she's doing it again! Just watch her now - '

  Now that she had begun to realize what was happening, Frances could see that Twinkle was almost imperceptibly transferring her weight from one foot to the other and leaning backwards slightly. The result was that, without actually moving her feet, she had shifted the focus farther up and to one side while still facing the camera.

  But Cecile Savoy had realized what was happening as well. This time, she refused to pivot to keep facing Twinkle. Instead, she did a bit of weight-shifting of her own. Now they both faced into the camera firmly, almost side by side, making a nonsense of lines which should have been spoken to each other.

  'CUT!' Dick Brouder glared at both of them, then seemed to regain his calm with a great effort. 'We're all a little overwrought today,' he said mildly. 'Suppose we take a break. Cecile, I'd like to talk to you for a minute. Twinkle, why don't you go back to your dressing-room and have a drink of milk?'

  'Why?' Twinkle demanded sharply. 'What have you put in it this time?'

  The set was suddenly very quiet.

  'On second thoughts,' Dick Brouder said, 'I'll talk to you later, Cecile. I think Twinkle and I ought to have a little chat right now.' He turned on his heel and strode off in the direction of Twinkle's dressing-room.

  'I'm not going in there alone with him.' Twinkle looked after him malignantly.

  'Don't be silly,' First said. 'Your mother's in there.

  I saw her go in about ten minutes ago - when you began making trouble. I think she went to lie down.'

  'So?' The tone was tough, but Twinkle glanced at Frances uncertainly. The message was clear. She did not consider her mother sufficient protection. Especially where Dick Brouder was concerned.

  'So hurry up,' First directed. 'You're holding up the whole production - again.'

  'We're on our way,' Frances said. She dropped a hand on Twinkle's shoulder, guiding her across the set.

  Although Twinkle did not speak, Frances sensed a lessening of her tension. The others did not realize

  that Twinkle was not just being difficult, as usual, but was genuinely frightened. And not without reason.

  Laurenda had been lying down and she struggled upright as Frances and Twinkle entered. Dick Brouder stood to one side, frowning thoughtfully. Frances closed the door firmly behind them. This was obviously going to be a scene for private consumption only.

  'Baby,' Laurenda said plaintively, 'why do you always have to keep upsetting everybody?'

  'All right, Laurenda,' Dick Brouder said. 'I'll handle this. Sit down, Twinkle.'

  'I don't want to,' Twinkle said.

  'You'd better sit down, Twinkle. This has nothing to do with what happened on the set. Your mother and I have something to tell you.'

  'Dick - ' Laurenda began a protest. 'I don't think we ought to. Not right now.'

  'She has to know, Laurenda. The longer we put it off, the harder it will be.'

  'I don't want to know!' Twinkle clapped her hands over her ears. 'I won't listen! You've got nothing to say I want to hear.'' She shut her eyes tightly and pressed her hands closer over her ears. She seemed to be holding her breath, as well. She began to turn an interesting shade of crimson.

  'We all have to do things we don't want to do, Twinkle,' Dick Brouder said patiently. 'And the older we grow, the more we have to.' He glanced at Frances apologetically. 'I'm sorry you had to be dragged into this, Frances. You can leave now, if you like.'

  'NO!' Twinkle screamed. Apparently she was not blocking off as much sound as she appeared to be.

  'I think perhaps I ought to stay,' Frances said. 'I'm sorry. I don't mean to intrude, but - '

  'But she's my chaperone!' Twinkle removed her fingers from her ears and reached out frantically to take a firm hold on Frances's arm. 'She's supposed to take care of me.'

  'And you don't think your mother or I will?' The inference was plain.

  'You won't!' Twinkle glared at him.

  'I'm sorry you feel that way, Twinkle, because - '

  'NO!' Twinkle turned away, but it seemed to Frances that she already knew what Dick was going to tell her. She was fighting a delaying action against a truth she had no wish to have verified.

  'Yes, Twinkle,' Dick Brouder insisted. 'Your mother and I - '

  'No! No! NO!'

  ' - are going to get married.'

  'NO-o-o-o . . .' It was a long and heartfelt wail.

  'Dick,' Laurenda said nervously, 'maybe you'd better leave us alone for a little while now - '

  'NO!' Twinkle howled. 'No, you are not going to marry my mother! You can't! I won't let you! You'll

  marry my mother over my dead body - ' She halted abruptly, seeming to listen to what she had just said.

  'Or is that the idea ?' she asked, with sudden dangerous quietness.

  'Twinkle, I don't know what's going on in your twisted little mind - ' Dick Brouder began.

  'I was supposed to drink that milk - ' Twinkle backed away as he showed signs of advancing on her.

  'Only Continuity drank it instead, and she nearly died.'

  ' - but you've got to snap out of it. Come and live in the real world, Twinkle, it isn't so bad.'

  'And I was supposed to wear that safety-harness - ' Twinkle seemed not to have heard him. 'Only Morrie wore it instead, and he did die.'

  'Twinkle, you're imagining things.'

  'And you wanted me to drink the milk - you kept telling me to. And you wanted me to wear the flying-harness - you kept promising me it was safe -'

  'It was safe! Goddammit, Twinkle, you've got to remember that Morris was a full-grown man - and dangerously overweight to begin with. He should have known better. That harness would have held a kid your size. There was no danger - '

  'With me out of the way,' Twinkle persisted, 'you wouldn't have had any trouble about marrying my mother, would you ? She'd have been a pushover - '

  Frances stepped forward quickly as Dick Brouder raised his hand. He let it fall again and twitched his mouth in a strained smile.

  'Sorry,' he said. 'But sometimes she gets to be too much for me.' He hesitated. 'You don't believe any of that nonsense, I hope?'

  Frances found that she could not meet his eyes.

  'I see.' He shrugged. 'Well, it's your privilege, I suppose. I must admit, she makes out a fairly convincing case.'

  'She's crazy,' Laurenda moaned. 'My own daughter and, if I say it myself, she's crazy.'

  'Not crazy enough to let you marry him!' Twinkle snarled. 'He'd take you for everything you were worth and then disappear. I've seen his type around the Studios before this.'

  'Believe it or not, Twinkle,' Dick Brouder said, 'I intend to support your mother. Yes, and you, too.'

  'We don't need your "support",' Twinkle snapped. 'I make more money than you do!'

  'That's true at the moment, Twinkle, but there may come a time - '

  'There'll never come a time! You're no good! You're a lousy director! I only got stuck with you on this picture because my mother said I had to. If I'd known - '

  It struck Frances that, if Dick Brouder were a murderer, Twinkle was taking a dangerous risk in antagonizing him like this. It also occurred to her that it was not the safest thing in the world to be a witness to such accusations, either.

  'Twinkle, honey, don't get so upset. We'll talk this over tonight and - '

  'There's nothing to talk over! The decision is made and Twinkle will just have to accept it.' Dick Brouder spoke with more assurance than he appeared to feel, judging from his anxious glance towards Laurenda. She was so accustomed to letting Twinkle have her own way that it was still possible that she might allow Twinkle to reverse any decision she had made.

  Except that Dick Brouder seemed as determined to have his own way as Twinkle was. Frances began to feel a certain sympathy for Laurenda, who might not be so much basically weak as simply exhausted by the warring emotions clashing around her
. No wonder she felt the need to lie down so often.

  'I won't accept it!' Twinkle's voice rose.

  'Please, baby, my head is aching.' Laurenda looked as though she wished everyone would go away so that she could lie down again.

  'He tried to KILL me!' Twinkle screamed. 'Don't you even care? Are you going to marry him so that he can keep on trying?'

  'Baby - ' Laurenda put a hand to her forehead and closed her eyes wearily. 'You don't understand - '

  'He tried to kill me,' Twinkle repeated stubbornly. 'I can understand that.'

  But, as Dick Brouder had pointed out himself, the milk had not been lethal. And the safety-harness would most probably have been adequate for a small slim child. Born incidents might have frightened her badly but would not have killed her. Nevertheless, there had been an element of risk in both attempts and, in fact, the last one had gone wrong, resulting in Morris Moskva's death. The fact that it had only been intended to terrify a ten-year-old child was not likely to be a strong inducement to any jury to recommend clemency.

  'Twinkle,' Dick Brouder said in a defeated voice, 'I don't know what to say. I don't know how to convince you -'

  'You can't,' Twinkle said. 'Unless - You can leave! You can go back to California. Right now. And leave me and my mother alone!'

  'You know I can't do that, Twinkle. We're in the middle of a film.'

  'First can finish it,' Twinkle said. 'He can do it as well as you can. Maybe better.'

  'I don't want him to go.' For once, Laurenda found the courage to make a firm statement. 'I love him.

  I'm going to marry him. If he goes, I go with him!' Then, apparently exhausted by the effort, she sank into the nearest chair and stared at the floor, refusing to meet anyone's eyes.

  'You don't mean it!' Twinkle was aghast.

  'That's the way it is, Twinkle.' Dick Brouder moved over to stand beside Laurenda, putting his hand on her shoulder. 'When you grow up, you'll understand.'

  The silence was broken by a diffident tap on the dressing-room door. Then the door opened and First poked his head inside cautiously.

  'Dick,' he said. 'The police are here. They've begun interviewing people about what happened

  yesterday.'