Authors: R. T. Jordan
“I basically turned around and pffft, Karen and Gerold were gone,” Mag said. “I went to Gerold’s office and didn’t see Karen ever again.”
“And when did you hear the cleaning people or whoever they were?” Archer asked.
Mag thought for a moment. She pursed her lips and knitted her brow as she tried to recall exactly where she was and what she had heard and seen. “As a matter of fact…” She paused. “When I walked backstage to go to the office, I heard some people arguing in the wings. I didn’t think anything about it at the time. Why would I? As I said, I thought it was a cleaning crew.”
“You could hear yelling over the sound of vacuums?” Archer said.
Mag tentatively shook her head. “Now that you mention it, I don’t think I heard vacuuming.”
Polly heaved a heavy sigh. “Well, we’re back to freaking square one! You still don’t have an alibi for the morning of the murder, and Jamie seems to have his own uncorroborated alibi—although he lied about getting coffee—and Charlotte’s a mental case who was after my Emmys to sell for meds to control Charles Laughton or Elizabeth Montgomery, or whoever she has floating around up there. If Hiroaki left the theater before Sharon arrived…that leaves only Gerold and Sharon as the prime suspects!”
“Wait a minute,” Tim insisted. “Mag just established that all the other suspects were at the theater that morning too. What if…and I’m simply concocting a hypothetical scenario…what if Charlotte didn’t leave the theater? After all, she was desperate to get her hands on Sharon’s Emmy Award. What if the voices Mag heard were actually Charlotte going through one of her episodes? What if she was backstage engaging in a conversation between Mama Rose, Ethel Merman, and Ethel Barrymore, in order to distract Karen and Gerold long enough for them to investigate the noise and for her to sneak out and abscond with the Emmy?”
Polly caught on. “Okay, it’s like this. Hiroaki leaves the theater thinking his career is over. Charlotte pretends to leave, but hangs around because she needs the Emmy that she believes is coming with Sharon. Sharon has her snake pit meltdown scene when she gets canned. Mag and Jamie leave the stage for a few minutes. Charlotte, who has been hiding in the wings, lets her weird personalities escape. Karen and Gerold go backstage to investigate her imitation of Pat Boone speaking in tongues, while she sneaks in front of the curtain to grab the statuette. The two returned just in time to catch Charlotte. She makes a run for it, but Karen stops her and retrieves the Emmy—hence her fingerprints on the statuette. Charlotte is totally embarrassed at being caught, so she flees. Or, there’s a struggle with the Emmy and Karen gets clobbered to death by Charlotte.”
Placenta looked at Mag and said, “If the killer was anyone other than Sharon, why wouldn’t Gerold have said something to the police? Would he really cover up a heinous crime just so you could have stage time in a local musical production? Is he that much in love with you that he’d let your rival for the role rot in jail for the rest of her life?”
Mag smiled with self-satisfaction. “I’m very cuddly.”
“It actually makes sense that Charlotte killed Karen,” Tim said. “Everyone knows that when someone needs money to buy drugs, they’ll do anything to score.”
Randy spoke up. “It’s time to consider Gerold as a prime suspect too. I’ll have him picked up.”
“Friday is opening night!” Polly said. “You can’t risk my career by dragging him away from the production just yet!”
D
etective Archer looked at his wristwatch and then looked at Mag. “It’s time I got you down to the station for booking.” He stood and withdrew a pair of handcuffs from his suit coat pocket.
Polly smiled with lascivious delight. “You found them,” she said, eyeing the shiny restraints and simultaneously blushing.
Mag began to cry. “Please, let me go!” She looked first to Detective Archer, then to Polly Pepper. “I can’t go to jail. I have a show to do. What will Gerold say? Who will play Gloria? We don’t have understudies.”
Polly patted Mag’s shoulder. “There are a gazillion girls out there who have played your role, hon. It won’t be hard to fill your tiny shoes.”
“Please, Polly!
Mame
is my big chance! It’s everything I’ve worked for! I’ve had to put up with that Yeti for months, just to get this show. Don’t take my dream away from me. Please?”
Polly faced Mag with her hands on her hips. “Someone took Karen’s dream away, and Sharon Fletcher’s too. Give us one good reason why we should ignore the fact that you’re a thief and why we should bother to lift a finger to save your skinny, untalented derrière?”
Mag whimpered. “No other actress knows the new dialogue.”
Polly shook her head. “Anyone professionally trained in the theater is forced to become quick studies. Learning Shakespeare in a matter of hours is de rigueur at RADA. As for you helping to find the
real
killer, you sound like O.J. after those idiots on his first jury acquitted him. What if
you
are Karen’s killer? It makes sense. And to answer Placenta’s earlier question, perhaps the reason that Gerold isn’t contradicting everyone’s presumption that Sharon murdered Karen is to protect you. You must be giving him plenty of lovin’ in return.”
“What do I have to do to prove that I’m innocent of everything except taking a bribe to snatch an Emmy? You got the damn thing back, so no harm, no foul,” Mag said. “I’ll die if I go to jail!”
Polly laughed scornfully and shook her head in mock amusement. “Life in the Big House didn’t seem to hurt Leona Helmsley. Save the pity party for a jury. But with the beloved Polly Pepper appearing as a witness against you, the matrons at Folsom will be happily pulling on their latex examination gloves for a cavity search even before my testimony is over.”
Mag looked appalled. “You’d use your fame to frame me?”
“I’ll use whatever God gave me to see that justice is served!” Polly shot back. Then she considered what Mag had asked. Polly thought about the possibility that the young actress might be innocent. Suddenly, a heavy burden settled over her. Polly knew that she couldn’t live with herself if she exploited her living legend status and later found that she had been wrong about Mag. She was suddenly at a crossroads and frustrated by her own sense of justice. Polly grabbed her head of dyed red hair and made a sound in frustration.
Mag looked at Polly. “If you help me, I’ll help you. I have more access to all the possible suspects than you do.”
Polly balked. “Strangers reveal their most intimate secrets to me. They consider me one of the family. After all, I was an invited guest in their living rooms every week for a dozen seasons. I can get people to flap their lips as easily as Dr. Laura makes me barf.”
“Strangers and fans, yes. Your
Mame
cast, no,” Mag countered. “It’s too late for you and your famous charm to mine anything of value from these people. You’ve alienated the suspects by trying to dig into their personal lives. Gerold doesn’t like you. Charlotte suspects that you know that she’s the one trying to loot your treasury of showbiz awards. Jamie won’t confess that his Starbucks alibi is a lie. Even Hiroaki is miffed that you placed him on a short list of possible killers. I’m already embedded with the director, er, so to speak. And everybody thinks I’m just the ingénue doing what ingénues have done forever—playing the youth card with an older man. I can be your eyes and ears. Just tell me what you need and I’ll get it for you. But spare me from jail and a criminal record!”
Polly looked at Randy Archer and her eyes silently asked what to do.
“If I release Mag and she turns out to be the killer, or kills again, I’ll not only be out of a job and career, but I’ll be charged as an accessory to whatever crime she commits. And you will too, Polly!” Randy said. “I can’t take that chance. For your sake and mine.”
Polly nodded and then gave Tim the same look of helplessness.
“Randy is right, Mom,” Tim said. “However, if you want my opinion, I think it’s worth a chance letting Mag go back to the viper nest and seeing what she comes up with. She’s also right about finding a replacement on such short notice. I know it can be done, but why throw off the rest of the cast, and risk getting lousy reviews that could stop the show from going to New York?”
“New York,” Polly said wistfully. “That’s all I want. Oh, and bringing Karen’s killer to death row, of course.” Then she looked at Placenta and raised an eyebrow.
“I, for one, am tired of criminals making plea bargains to get out of paying their full debt to society,” Placenta said with conviction. “Somebody kills somebody else, and they cop a deal with prosecuting attorneys for a lesser degree of the crime. Hell, someone’s dead regardless of whether you call it first-degree murder, second-degree murder, or manslaughter. Mag should be hauled off to jail immediately, if only for the crime she committed this evening.”
“You never liked me, did you, Placenta?” Mag said.
“Nope,” Placenta agreed. She turned to Polly. “However, what Tim says about sending her back to fetch more information makes sense.”
Polly picked up her bottle of champagne and poured the last couple of fingers into her glass. She swallowed what little had been left and sat in deep contemplation for a long moment. “I suppose jail will always be there.”
Detective Archer started to interrupt, but Polly silenced him with a smile that begged him to trust her.
Polly then looked at Mag. “You’ve got a new boyfriend.”
“Excuse me?” Mag said.
“I said, Gerold’s history. There’s a new man in your life, and he’s extremely jealous of you hanging out with all the sexy chorus boys in the company. Therefore he’ll be at your side constantly, even in your dressing room.”
Mag looked at Polly as though she were talking nonsense. “I’d love a new man, but Gerold would kill me…as well as any Mr. Right who came along.”
Polly waved her finger and shook her head. She smiled evilly and said, “Not this man. Gerold wouldn’t dare harm a legend’s son.”
It took a longer moment than Polly expected for everyone to catch on, but suddenly and in unison Tim, Placenta, and Mag knowingly exclaimed, “What? You’re drunk, right?”
Polly shrugged. “You heard me. Tim is the new man in your life and he’s going to be with you constantly and reporting back to me.”
“Mother, you’re insane!” Tim cried out.
“Totally nuts!” Mag seconded Tim’s opinion. “First of all, Tim’s too good looking to be straight. No one will believe for a moment that we’re lovers!”
“Hell, no one believed Liza and David either, but there was enough tabloid press and canoodling in public for a few morons on the planet to think that she might be getting at least a variation on nookie.”
Mag raised her hands up in protest. “You’re off your rocker, old lady,” she declared.
“You said yourself that it’s too late to recast your role, so you’re safe at least for a couple of weeks.”
“Mother, you’re the actor, not me,” Tim cried. “I’m not equipped to play a heterosexual! What if I fall for one of the boy dancers?”
“I’m used to that, dear,” Polly said, lightly patting her son on the face. “Nobody would believe that a man as handsome as you would limit yourself to just one sex. How boring and restrictive would that be!”
Mag began to hyperventilate as she considered the lose-lose situation she was in. She didn’t want to go to jail, but she also couldn’t risk being fired from the show by Gerold. “There’s no way that I’ll face Gerold’s wrath by pretending to be in love with Tim. No offense,” Mag added, looking at Tim.
Polly rolled her eyes. “Fine. You’re probably right.”
Mag and Tim both breathed a sigh of relief.
“Placenta will be your new girlfriend,” Polly stated matter-of-factly.
Once again, there were simultaneous roars of incredulity, mainly from Placenta and Mag.
“I’m brilliant,” Polly proclaimed. “This solves the problem of Gerold being jealous of a new man in your life. Hell, he may even be intrigued by the idea of you and Placenta—”
Placenta barked, “They are so right. You are truly one hellava loon, lady. Over the years, all those hot stage lights must have fried your brain! Either that or fifty years of inhaling champagne bubbles has destroyed your gray cells faster than your doctor predicted. Trust me, Polly, I’ll take that job over at Whitney’s place before I start dating trash like Mag Ryan!”
Polly rejected everyone’s notion that her idea was somehow preposterous, but she gave in to a compromise. “If you’re all going to be completely unimaginative, I’ll do it myself,” she finally said. “I’ll be Mag’s new lover.”
Randy chuckled, realizing that Polly would never change. She was going to be investigating the death of Karen Richards until she either found the killer or was killed herself. “Just promise to play safe and wear protection,” he teased.
Polly gave her man a good-natured elbow to his ribs. “This really does solve almost all of our problems. Mag takes a ‘get out of jail’ card—at least for the time being. If Gerold has a problem with the relationship and kicks Mag out of his house, we have plenty of rooms to spare here. And I get to be intimate with our mole.”
Suddenly Tim stood up and bellowed, “Oh, all right! I’ll be Mag’s lover! I can’t put the star lady in jeopardy. And there’s no way that the cast members are going to feel comfortable telling their secrets to Mag if Polly’s hanging around. I’ll just have to deal with Gerold and his temper.”
Mag cried, “Good grief! What the world needs is to see this family in a reality TV show. You’re all too weird for anyone to believe unless they’ve seen you in action!”
“Thank you, sweetie,” Polly said to Mag. “I never wanted an average family. I told God to make me a baby boy who was special in every way, and look who I got—perfection. Then when I found Placenta stuck working for a Beverly Hills matron, I immediately rescued her. Mediocrity is for Hilary Duff, but definitely not for my Timmy and Placenta, and most certainly not for
moi
!”
Mag Ryan stood up and looked down at Polly. “Okay, I’m cool with whatever you want to do. You’re keeping me out of jail, and that’s all I care about at the moment. I’ll do whatever you want me to do to help finger Karen’s killer.”
Polly faced the woman who only a short while ago had been repugnant to her. This time she smiled at Mag. “I’m relieving Timmy and Placenta and me of being your new beau. But your duty is to convince everyone in the cast, as well as your pal Jamie, and Gerold too, that I’m a harmless old icon into whose trust they can put every tasty bit of dish about everyone else they know. They must think of me as being as honorable as the Dahli Lama.”
Tim grimaced. “Let’s just say that Polly’s a clam but that she loves to get her dish fresh from the source, not from some sleazy rag like the
National Peeper
. Perhaps that’ll get our suspects to start yapping.”