Cherringham--Final Cut (7 page)

“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.

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.

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.”

“Not you?”

“We’ve got to dress the whole rear of the castle. Me and my lads will be here till it’s dark, then back at first light tomorrow morning.”

“Big scene, huh?”

“Biggest of the whole movie. Two armies, scenes on the river, cannons — going to be something …”

“Oh yeah?” said Jack. “So what’s the scene about?”

“Lady Ann tries to elope with the King — but Cromwell’s armies surround the castle and besiege it …”

“Lot of explosions, huh?”

“Oh yes,” said Gary. “Cannon, muskets — walls blowing up, you name it.”

“Sounds dangerous.”

“Tell me about it.” He took a breath, “But we’re all pros. Safety first, hmm?”

“Guess so — but with all these accidents that have been happening …”

“You’re reading my mind, Jack.”

Jack saw that Gary was taking this seriously.

“Got a favour to ask you, Gary,” said Jack.

“Any time.”

“You see something that worries you, tomorrow night … You find me, huh? Anything — doesn’t matter how small.”

“I’ll do that,” said Gary. “You really think somebody’s got it in for Zoë, huh?”

“Just covering the bases, Gary. It’s my job.”

“Gotcha.”

Jack nodded to the prop man, then walked down the steps.

“Not much I can do here. Guess I’ll grab a coffee then head on home. And, er, appreciate the offer — the flask, you know?”

“Not a problem. Cheers now.”

Gary picked up his tree and Jack watched him head off down the side of the Castle towards the river.

As soon as he was out of sight, he took another look around and then followed.

*

Jack might not be able to get into the Castle through the main door — but he had an advantage over Gary and the rest of the crew.

He’d been here before a while back — on a case.

And that time he’d had to make a slightly unorthodox entrance.

He knew there was an old servants’ door, concealed behind bushes and boulders. It hadn’t been used for years — and Jack had discovered the last time that the lock was pretty feeble.

With luck — given how poor the owners of the estate had been — they hadn’t replaced it since.

Jack kept close to the wall, keeping a constant eye out for crew. But he couldn’t see anyone. When he came to the bushes that hid the entrance, he slipped through and out of sight.

And there was the door — looking just the way it had last time.

He crouched down and took out the little penknife he liked to use when locks got in the way …

Click, click, click — the tumblers inside the lock mechanism dropped.

Always easier second time round,
he thought.

He turned the handle on the battered old door, pushed it open — turned on his phone as a flashlight — and went through into the castle.

*

It only took a couple of minutes for Jack to find the old servants’ staircase that led from the cellar up into the main house.

The house was owned by the FitzHenry family. But Jack knew it should be empty.

He bypassed the door that led to the infamous ‘House of Oddities’ — the weird museum that featured heavily on the Cherringham tourist trail …

Once experienced — never forgotten …
thought Jack, remembering the case that had first brought him to Combe Castle. And the eccentric owners — Lord and Lady FitzHenry.

When he’d arrived the day before, the caterers had told him that the FitzHenrys had been offered a hotel suite — as well as a generous fee — to evacuate the castle for the duration of the shoot.

Should have the place to myself,
thought Jack.

He saw a door at the top of the stone steps. Jack gently pushed it open and looked around.

He was in the back kitchens.

He listened to the house breathing …

Not a sound.

He gently shut the door behind him and headed through into the deserted main house and then into the sitting room. In the far corner of the room, he spotted another door which he guessed led to the Great Hall.

Taking care to stay away from the windows, he walked over to the door and gently tried the handle.

It opened.

Nice and easy … so far …

He walked through — and was back in the room where Zoë had had her attack.

Now to find the flask …

*

But the flask wasn’t there. Jack could see the room had been tidied, swept. Otherwise it looked exactly as it had when he’d left with Zoë that morning.

The cameras had gone — but the dolly and track were still there, plus boxes of equipment, with the floor still showing the bits of coloured tape the actors used to find their marks.

He doubted anyone would have thrown the flask away. Everyone must have seen Zoë with it — her constant companion.

So either it had been stolen — which, in spite of what Gary said, seemed unlikely — or it had been removed deliberately —
taken
— he believed — by whoever had used it to drug Zoë Harding.

But without the flask it would be impossible to pin the incident on anyone. No prints, no residue of the drug to prove that all these accidents were really a campaign to destroy the young actress.

Jack sat on one of the camera boxes and looked around the room. Somehow, someone had spiked Zoë’s flask. Probably someone who’d been in this very room when they were shooting. For all Jack knew, he’d been looking at the culprit all morning.

But so far Jack had only managed to speak to the prop man and the guy who made the bacon sandwiches.

I’m outta the loop,
he thought.
Need to find the
players
and get up close.

But how?

And then he remembered what Gary had said: the crew were down by the river setting up for the night shoot.

If the key crew were going to be anywhere — it would be down there where the production budget was being burned.

He got up from the box and headed back into the house …

Jack crept slowly along the stone battlements, making sure to keep his head down behind the parapet.

If the guys at One Police Plaza could see me now,
he thought.
Connecticut Yankee in the Court of King Arthur — the real deal!

This was like being in a movie.

No, it was more real than that …

He reached a slit in the ancient stone — designed for firing arrows at the enemy across the river — and peered through.

Nobody on the sliver of grass below — which separated the castle from the black waters of the fast-flowing Thames — would be able to see him up here. But he could see clear across the river — and what an amazing sight it was.

The far meadows filled with tents, wagons and horses. He could see flags and pennants flickering in the breeze. And closer to the river below, lined up in a threatening display, two ranks of cannons had their barrels pointing right at him.

With the sun setting behind him, the whole array glowed orange, and light flashed from lines of swords stacked under canvas awnings.

Jack knew that four hundred years ago there really had been a Civil War battle to take this castle. And what he was seeing now would have been exactly the view that those poor defending Royalists would have had as Cromwell’s forces lined up to besiege them.

But amazing though that array of seventeenth-century armaments on the far bank was — Jack had other things to look at.

He edged to the corner of the battlements until he could see down through another arrow slit, to the grassy strip on this side of the river.

And there he spotted Alphonso, the director.

Just twenty yards below, Alphonso was walking back and forth, his arms beating the air wildly. And standing facing him — arms patiently folded — stood Fraser Haines, the 1
st
Assistant.

Jack crouched down closer to the arrow slit so he could hear the conversation.

“So fire her! If the woman, this
girl —
is too ill to work!”

“It’s not that easy, Alphonso—”

“She is
destroying
my film! Destroying my career!”

What career?
thought Jack.

He leaned forward into the slit and peered down. Haines hadn’t moved. Alphonso was still pacing.