Lights! Camera! Puzzles!

by Parnell Hall

  Teenage squeals from across the street announced the arrival of Steve Hawkins. He had just stepped out of his trailer, and was heading for the set. He spotted Angela and came over.

  “Steve, sweetie,” Angela said. “I can’t thank you enough for bailing us out. My first feature film and this happens.”

  “On the other hand, I hear the guy couldn’t act.” Steve stuck out his hand to Crowley. “Officer. Steve Hawkins. I’m stepping into this production. I assume everyone’s giving you their complete cooperation.”

  “Indeed they are,” Crowley said. “And you can help.”

  “Me? How? I just got here.”

  “Yes, to take over the part of the man who died. Quite a windfall for you.”

  “You’re saying I benefitted from his death?”

  “It’s one of the first things we look for.”

  “I wasn’t even here, Sergeant.”

  “Where were you?”

  “In Bermuda. On vacation. They tracked me down and got me on a plane. I wasn’t all that happy about it. No offense, Angela, I love working with you. But I was on a beach.”

  Melvin came wandering up. He cocked his head at Steve. “Ah, the gentleman playing me. Not good-looking enough, but I see a certain resemblance.”

  Steve Hawkins sized him up. “You must be the bounder I’m playing. Tell me, did you really have that many women?”

  “You should have been at the divorce hearing,” Cora said.

  “And the real Cora Felton. I understand you solve crime. Well, I hope you solve this one. I would hate to have a serial killer running around the set bumping off Melvins.”

  “So would we,” Crowley said.

  “Sorry, Officer,” Steve said. “I didn’t mean to step on your toes. The Puzzle Lady has quite a reputation.”

  “It’s mostly me taking credit for his ideas,” Cora said. “As far as the murder goes, I have no idea what’s going on. The movie is pure fiction, as far as I’m concerned. Any resemblance to real life is entirely coincidental and not to be inferred.”

  A production assistant wandered by. “Cora and Melvin, position one!”

  “I don’t remember position one, do you dear?” Steve said.

  “Naughty boy,” Angela said.

  Steve smiled. “Just getting into character.”

  Melvin nodded approvingly. “You’ll do.”

  41

  In between takes Cora managed to sneak away for a private talk with Angela. She was headed for the door of Angela’s trailer when she heard voices coming out the window. It hadn’t occurred to her that Steve wouldn’t be in his trailer. The scene on the top of the Empire State Building had a lot of dialogue, and she figured he’d be back in his own trailer, learning his lines.

  “Thank God you’re here!” Angela said.

  “Did you have to push hard to get me?” Steve said.

  “I had Sandy primed.”

  “I bet you did, you little minx.”

  “Hey. I’m Angela Broadbent. You think I have to sleep with the director for an independent low-budget?”

  “No, just with the costar.”

  Cora saw the gofer girl heading for the trailer. She didn’t want to be discovered eavesdropping. She headed off any question about what she was doing there by stopping the gofer girl. “You looking for Angela?”

  “No.”

  “Are you busy?”

  The girl rolled her eyes. “We’re making a movie.”

  “I mean this minute. You don’t have to be so defensive. No one’s angry. You’re not getting fired.”

  “I suppose.”

  “I know. You found a man hanging. That’s not pleasant. Get over it.”

  “How? People keep asking me questions.”

  “And they’re going to keep asking you questions until this case is solved. Or not.”

  “What do you mean, or not?”

  “Not all cases are solved. The cause of death may be determined to be murder by person or persons unknown. And the file will remain open, but the investigation will be over and the case will be labeled unsolved. Until that happens, people are going to keep asking questions. You just have to deal with it.”

  “I suppose.”

  “Let me help you out. I’ll ask you questions, and you deal with it.”

  “I don’t want to do that.”

  “Yeah. That’s the thing in a murder investigation. You don’t have any choice. You can tell me, or you can tell the cops.”

  She sighed. “All right.”

  “Why did you tell the police Fred came out of his trailer and said he got a phone call?”

  “Because that’s what he did.”

  “Why would he tell you he got a phone call? He’s in the trailer, he’s wrecked the scene, he’s a quivering mass of raw emotions, and he’s afraid he’s about to be fired. He’s got to have some reason for his actions.”

  “He knew I’d been told to let no one in. He had to make sure I’d ignore my own instructions.”

  “So you’d let the people in?”

  “That’s right.”

  Cora grimaced. “That’s what I don’t understand.”

  “What?”

  “The director is the one coming to see him. Why would Fred think you’d try to stop the director from getting in?”

  “He was upset. I don’t know what he was thinking.”

  Cora nodded. “See? That’s the right answer. You have no idea what the guy was thinking. All you can do is repeat what the guy said. The more you try to justify what he said, the more your story sounds made up.”

  “I’m not making it it up.”

  “I didn’t say you were. But you’re making it sound like you were. The key part of your statement makes no sense. You can’t make it make sense. The only thing you can do is be scrupulously careful to repeat exactly what was said, so the police can get a handle on what Fred was thinking.”

  “Why is it so important?”

  Cora sighed. “Sweetheart, I wish I knew.”

  42

  The top of the Empire State Building was off-limits to spectators. It was being shot with a skeleton crew. Aside from that, only above the line people were permitted. For instance, the producer and production manager would have been allowed up, had they happened to be there. As it was, only Cora and Melvin joined the actors and director for the filming.

  In the scene, Cora and Melvin come out of the elevator at the top of the Empire State Building, which is something Cora has always wanted to do but never done, despite living in New York. She’s delighted to be up there, and pulls Melvin over to the rail to see the view.

  CORA

  It’s breathtaking.

  MELVIN

  I want to use the viewer.

  CORA

  Sure.

  (crosses to the nearest viewer)

  MELVIN

  No. Third one down.

  (crosses there.)

  CORA

  (follows)

  What?

  MELVIN

  There’s a girl in a high-rise apartment who likes to run around naked.

  CORA

  You have got to be kidding.

  MELVIN

  (shrugs)

  Hey, don’t blame me. I’ve got all my clothes on.

  CORA

  (hands on hips)

  How could you see through a window way down there?

  MELVIN

  (sniggers)

  CORA

  Oh, you rotten. Just have to spoil a beautiful moment, don’t you?

  MELVIN

  I think it’s a wonderful moment.

  CORA

  I don’t suppose you could pay any attention to me?

  MELVIN

  You willing to run around naked?

  CORA

  You’re not going to think it’s so funny when I throw you over the side.

  MELVIN

  Hey, you love me and you know it.

  By Melvin and Cora’s standards it was actually a pretty sweet s
cene.

  It also never happened. Sandy had made it up out of whole cloth so that he could shoot on the top of the Empire State Building.

  Cora didn’t care. The scene played well with Angela and Steve acting it. She couldn’t help wondering how it would have been with Angela and Fred. She shuddered at the thought.

  SCENE 187: EXT–TOP OF EMPIRE STATE BUILDING–DAY was a tracking shot, but in this case they were actually using a camera dolly. They weren’t using a track, but the camera and the cameraman rode along on the dolly pushed by two dolly grips. This allowed Sandy to shoot a continuous shot coming out of the elevator, following Cora to the rail, and trucking down to Melvin’s third viewer.

  The only tricky part was guiding the dolly through the maze of cables hooking up the lights needed for the scene. The scene could have been shot with natural lighting, but Sandy chose to augment it. Cora had a feeling he tended to forgo any such shortcuts for fear of looking like a low-budget feature.

  After a few more run-throughs Sandy said, “Okay, let’s try one for picture. Lock it up!”

  The A.D.s went through the business of locking up the set, although there were no people to restrain, and no cars to stop.

  Angela and Steve got in the elevator with the actor playing the elevator man. His job it was to open the door and let them off.

  “And . . . action!”

  Angela and Steve came out of the elevator, following the camera. Sandy crept along backwards next to the dolly, as was his habit. He threw in occasional directions, which he could edit out later, as long as he didn’t overlap the actor’s dialogue.

  The camera followed Angela and Steve down to the third viewer, then swung around for a two-shot, Sandy creeping backwards and coaching his actors as he went.

  And a tripod tipped over and the huge light it was holding came crashing down, just missing his head.

  43

  After that, Crowley was let up to the top.

  Sandy gamely went on filming, and Crowley interviewed him in between takes.

  Cora could tell he wasn’t happy with the situation. “Pissed off by your treatment?”

  Crowley’s interrogation was on hold while they set up another shot. “I could care less how I’m treated. I’m not happy with the ‘attempt on Sandy’s life.’”

  “Me either. It wasn’t successful.”

  “Oh, do give it a rest. Even you don’t wish him dead.”

  “It would be better than watching him play the brave martyr, soldiering on in the face of peril.”

  “That is a bit galling,” Crowley admitted. “I was referring to the fact it was so inconclusive.”

  “That’s sort of what I was referring to.”

  “Don’t be dumb. If that were an attempt at murder, it’s such a haphazard one it’s no wonder it failed. But if it was an attempt at murder, it significantly narrows the field. Who was up here who could have done it?”

  “I could have done it. Angela or Steve could have done it. The camera people, the grips, the electricians. And the production assistants.”

  “How do they get to be here?”

  “You think the director wants to carry his own Diet Coke? Max always has one in his bag.”

  “Oh, come on.”

  “Seriously. Check his bag.”

  “We’re talking about who could have tried to kill him.”

  “Sandy could have, to divert suspicion away from himself.”

  “He drops a fifty pound light on his head?” Crowley said skeptically.

  “It didn’t hit him. What’s the difference how much it weighs if it didn’t hit him?”

  The gofer girl came over while they were talking. She seemed distraught.

  “It’s not my fault,” she said plaintively.

  “No one’s saying it’s your fault,” Crowley said.

  “I was supposed to be watching out for him. That’s my job. But during a take? How can I be there during a take?”

  “No one’s blaming you,” Crowley said.

  It occurred to Cora how many times the poor girl must have heard that.

  “Flag on the play! Lighting’s not right! Let’s refocus!” Sandy cried.

  The electricians tromped back in. “Knocks over the light, then says the lighting’s not right,” one of them grumbled.

  Crowley seized on the interruption to grab Steve Hawkins. “You been up here since lunch?”

  “Yeah.”

  “You see anyone go near the light?”

  “Can’t help you, Sergeant. I didn’t even know it was there.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I’m an actor. Lights on the set are background. They’re not something I see.”

  “Are you happy with how the scene’s going?”

  “No, I tried to kill him because I wanted another director. What kind of stupid idea is that?”

  Crowley shrugged. “Unfortunately, all we have are stupid ideas.”

  As the actor went back to the set, Crowley said, “This is slim pickings. I think I’ll go back down.”

  “Me too,” Cora said. “What about you, Melvin?”

  “I think I’ll stay here.”

  “Really?”

  “That gofer girl looks upset. I think she could use comforting.”

  “I gotta hand it to you, Melvin. You never disappoint.”

  On their way down in the elevator Cora said, “That’s funny.”

  “What?”

  “The accident.”

  “What about it?”

  “Sandy didn’t say to keep it quiet.”

  44

  It made page three in the Post. To have made page one, the light would have had to have bashed in Sandy’s head. Cora wondered if he would have thought it was worth it.

  As it was, the only thing that bumped it up to page three was the fact it was Steve Hawkins’ first day on the picture. A head shot of the handsome young actor was the one the Post ran with the picture. Anyone reading the headline, mishap on the movie set, subheading, near-fatal accident, would have thought it was Steve Hawkins who had almost been killed.

  Jennifer was certainly impressed. “Steve Hawkins is in your picture, Auntie Cora?”

  “How do you know Steve Hawkins?”

  “From Death Squad.”

  Cora looked at Sherry. “Did we get Netflix when I wasn’t looking?”

  “Not that I know of. Are you renting movie channels, Jennifer?”

  “Don’t be dumb,” Jennifer said. It was her favorite new expression. “Suzie Feinstein has it.”

  “It’s on in the afternoon?”

  “On demand,” Jennifer said, as if her mother were an ignoramus.

  Jennifer hadn’t seen the New York Post article yet. Neither had Cora, who was having breakfast with the family before leaving for the set. But news of Steve Hawkins had gotten around.

  “How did you know we hired Steve Hawkins?” Cora said. “I don’t recall mentioning it.”

  Jennifer rolled her eyes. She might as well have said “duh.” “Betsy Greenwood’s Facebook page. She blogged about it before it went viral.”

  “I’m confused,” Cora said. “Do I get points for having him on my picture, or lose them for not knowing about Betsy Greenwood’s Facebook page?”

  The phone rang. Sherry got up to answer.

  It was Aaron calling from the paper. “Is Cora still there?”

  “Yeah.” Sherry stretched the phone out on a long cord and handed it to Cora.

  “What’s this about the director almost getting killed?”

  “It’s a non-story, Aaron. The guy tripped over a light.”

  “Well, the Post has it.”

  “Well, if the Post has it, it must be true,” Cora said. “For my money it’s an overzealous publicity agent trying to keep the picture in the news.”

  “You think so? Even after the other murder?”

  “Because of the other murder,” Cora said. “If there hadn’t been a murder, no one would have noticed this. Believe me, I wasn�
�t withholding a story from you.”

  Cora handed the phone back and looked up into the accusing eyes of Jennifer.

  “Why are you withholding a story from Daddy?”

  45

  crowley had the Post article. He wasn’t happy. “How did this become a story?” he demanded.

  Cora, who’d just gotten to the set, was surprised to be attacked. “Well, it wasn’t me.”

  “Oh, no? After what you said in the elevator?”

  “What did I say in the elevator?”

  “That Sandy hadn’t told you not to publicize the story.”

  “Well, he hadn’t.”

  “So, you did.”

  “Why in the world would I do that? You think I’m pushing some murder on the movie plot because I’m bored with filming?”

  “I hope not. I got a real murder on my hands. I don’t need to waste my time with fake ones.”

  “Now you’re calling Fred a homicide?”

  “You know what I mean.”

  “I do. You’re picking on me because you’re not making any progress.”

  Crowley stated to flare up, the smiled and shrugged. “Damned if I’m not.”

  Today they were filming EXT: PENTHOUSE–DAY, unofficially dubbed the walk-of-shame scene. In it, Cora, sneaking home from a dalliance with an investment broker, is ambushed in front of their building by Melvin, who had been tipped off by a dental hygienist with whom he had had a fling, who spotted Cora leaving a midtown hotel.

  Although, like most of the film, it never really happened, it mirrored real life enough that no one could possibly notice.

  Angela came out of her trailer and joined them on the sidewalk. “They want me in a torn stocking. I think it’s a little much. What do you think?”

  “Is there dialogue about it?” Cora said.

  “No.”

  “Then who could possibly notice?”

  Angela pointed to the Post in Crowley’s hand. “Good morning, Sergeant. You catch Sandy’s killer yet?”

  “He’s not dead,” Crowley said.

  “No one tried to kill him, either, but that doesn’t mean it’s not a story. Kind of muddies the actual murder, doesn’t it?”

  “Then you’re not the one leaking the story?”

  “I have no idea who leaked the story. Talk to Sandy’s publicist. The whole thing looks like a publicity stunt. Ineptly handled, though.”