Merryll Manning Is Dead Lucky (27 page)

    “He was just trying to save you money,” said Monty, coming to Kent’s rescue.

    “Sure! Just trying to save you money. You want to pay overtime – makes no difference to me. You just go right ahead.”

38

I phoned the news to Inspector Borne. “Just the five of you who know the date’s been changed?” he insisted.

    “Six, if you count Boss Kent’s secretary. Until tomorrow. Then the contestants will know and just about everybody here at Kenovarnie’s. But I’m hoping it will stymie Mr. Poison Pen.”

    “Unless he’s one of your five men! Kent, Monty, Peter, Jellis – or you yourself!”

    “If that’s so, he wouldn’t risk showing his hand at this stage. It would pinpoint him. So whether he already knows, or won’t find out until tomorrow, he’s nicely boxed in!”

    “I hope you’re right,” came Borne’s gloomy voice. “Sometimes these characters will lash out if you box them in. He might do something desperate.”

    “That’s where I’m counting on you,” I said.

    We went on to make technical arrangements for the police presence. When all that was sorted out, I finally got around to opening Sedge’s briefcase. With all the excitement, I hadn’t had a chance to look at the quiz questions. I was still sorting them into categories when the phone rang. “Manning, Security,” I said without thinking. I’d forgotten I was supposed to be dead.

    “I hear you’ve been looking for me!” came the voice in Italian.

    I jumped. For one crazy second, I thought it was old Dune-Harrigan. The voice had the same cocky swagger. Also the accent was no accent. It’s called “studioese”. No Italian speaks it, but everyone understands it because it’s used on radio and in the movies. And, of course, it’s the accent taught to all foreigners. No use cramming up a dialect that maybe only ten per cent of Italians will understand.

    “Who’s speaking?” I asked.

    “Gino. Gino Paletti.”

    I froze. “The police have some questions for you. Why’d you disappear? You know what happened to Spookie?”

    “
Certo
. Certainly I know what happened to Kathie. What happened to the Professor Dune-Harrigan too. And the same thing will happen to you. You hear me,
vigliacco
? The same thing will happen to you.”

    “You’re the coward,” I said. “Running away! Who killed Kathie?”

    He laughed. “That you should already know. It’s obvious! Just cast your eyes away from me.”

    “So what do you want me to do in exchange?”

    “Nothing else. Just forget you ever knew me.”

    “But I don’t know you!”

    “All I want is to save your life!”

    “How?”

    “Disappear!”

    “Are you threatening me?” I asked.

    He hung up.

    I got back to Borne straight away. My hand was so sweaty, the phone kept slipping through my fingers.

    “Are you sure it was Gino?” Borne asked.

    “How in hell would I know?” I shouted. “Better get on to Peter Tunning. Your Gino has probably called him too. I’ll find out if Kent and Monty and Jellis have been threatened at this end.”

    But none of them had. Kent was brusque and Monty even implied I’d made the whole thing up.

    I waited an hour for Borne’s return call. Peter Tunning had just come back to his office. He promised to contact Borne if he ever heard from this Gino. He never did.

39

“Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome our special guest quiz master tonight for the final round of this season’s
80 Questions
– Mr. Don Ellin.”

    Thunderous, spontaneous applause would be dubbed in later. No live audience, no worries – that was the order of the day (or rather the night). Ignore the autocue, beam into the camera, give out the verbal platitudes I’d memorized – and keep smiling!

    The set was full of policemen, but nevertheless I was scared witless. I kept telling myself that nothing was going to happen – aside from usual snafus. Nothing was going to wrong – except matters of a purely technical origin. But it was all right for Monty and Kent to be sanguine about security, this time I was the only one who’d been threatened. This time, I was all alone. Hell, I wasn’t even sure that Borne believed me. Monty didn’t for a starter, and it was more than probable that neither did Boss Kent. Monty hated my guts too. But I’d show that bastard. In fact, I’d show them all. I had a little surprise prepared just for all these unbelievers. This was a show they’d never forget!

    I nerved myself to proceed: “Our finalists! Here they are,  tonight, ladies and gentlemen: Tonight, we have Cat Jolley, jazzman extraordinaire! Narelle Manners who knows classical music like a dog knows how to bark. Joe Darin, an expert on horses and courses! Iris Moore for more pop songs than the sixties can hold. We’ve sure got our share of music lovers tonight. And our final contestant for that $80,000 grand prize – Ken Curtis, the verse man from Ohio, with famous sites and explorers.

    “Gentlemen, be seated – but not before our two lovely ladies! Folks, you know the rules tonight are slightly different from our usual show. I’m not going to ask the questions in order.” I made a show of shuffling Sedge’s cards. “First come, first served! And my first question is: Where exactly is the Taj Mahal located?”

    To my amazement, Joe Darin was first on the buzzer, beating Curtis by at least a second. Even more surprising, he got the answer dead right: “It’s located in Agra, Uttar Pradesh, India.”

    “First blood to Mr. Joe Darin! Next question – for
two
points: In 1831, what overwhelmingly successful opera established whose musical reputation?”

    “
Robert the Devil
by Meyerbeer.”

    “Correct! Three points now to Mr. Darin, who is now leading the field. But seventy-seven questions to go! Who was the Beatles’ co-star in their first feature film?”

    Mr. Darin narrowly but clearly buzzed ahead of Miss Moore: “Wilfrid Brambell.”

    “Correct again! Four points to Mr. Darin! Come on, you other folks, get with those buzzers. Are they all working tonight? Let’s hear them!... Right, keep your thumbs ready now. Who am I? When I was seven years old, I received my first payment for singing a song in public. At sixteen, I joined Howard Baker as a girl singer – ”

    “Vera Lynn.”

    “Correct!”

    Something very wrong here. Darin was an expert on the gee-gees. He might just know the Taj Mahal and Wilfrid Brambell, but he was too young for Vera Lynn and he’d only know Meyerbeer if he was running in the Kentucky Derby. It was time for my big surprise:

    I’ve always fancied myself as a singer. The army’s a great place for revues and camp concerts. In all the years I was in the service, I never lost a chance to entertain an audience. I was a natural for TV and this quiz was my big chance. Every house in America would be tuned in to me next Wednesday night. I had to make my singing part of the show, otherwise I’d just go down as a minor footnote in TV history as the nonentity who took over from Sedge Cornbeck on a couple of nights of
80 Questions
. So what? Who cares? I had to do something that viewers would really remember, yet at the same time impress Monty so much, he’d be forced to sign me up for the next round of
80 Questions
or whatever replacement show he had on his drawing board. In fact, I was going to make every TV producer in the country come running to me. I’d be fielding offers. Who wants to be a glorified security guard for the rest of his life? Not me!

    I stood up and advanced into the camera. “What popular comic opera does this song come from?”

    Darin buzzed.

    “
Take a pair of sparkling eyes, Hidden ever and anon…
”

    “I didn’t know you were going to sing it. It comes from Weber’s opera,
Abu Hassan
.”

    “And I don’t know how you could possibly confuse a well-known song from Gilbert and Sullivan’s
Gondoliers
with an obscure ditty from Weber. You lose two points.”

    “What are you playing at?”

  “
After the ball was over, after the break of morn;

    After the dancers leaving, after the stars are gone,

    Many a heart is aching. If you could read them all,

    Many the hopes that have vanished, after the ball.
”

    “What do you want now?” asked Mr. Darin.

    “I want the name of the composer. Does no-one know? Not even you, Mr. Darin? The number one best selling song of all time – in sheet music, of course! It made Charles K. Harris a multi-millionaire. Well, on with the show: Here’s another easy question from Gilbert and Sullivan – one for Mr. Darin…”

    I launched into
A More Humane Mikado
. To my surprise, Darin didn’t give it a buzz – despite the song’s extremely obvious title – but everyone else had a go. In fact, three buzzers sounded at once and I had to guess who was first off the mark.

    Yes, I was having a grand time. I sang “Vesti la giubba” from
Pagliacci
, “Che gelida manina” from
La Boheme
, and “I Dream of Jeannie” from Stephen Foster. In fact, I was getting so carried away, I almost missed young Trevor’s signal for the commercial break.

    I leaned heavily against the podium while one of the make-up girls dabbed the sweat off my forehead. It’s hot enough under the lights even when you’re not singing. I wondered how Monty was taking this totally unexpected development. Of course, it would have helped if I had musical accompaniment, but I couldn’t risk a flat
No way, José
to my proposal, so I’d told no- one at all of my plan.

    Sure enough, I was dead right not to trust the bastards! Here was Monty’s messenger, Peter Tunning, hurrying as fast as he dared down the ladder from the control booth. “
Bastardo!
What you doing, eh?” he shouted for all the world to hear.

    “So Monty doesn’t like it!” I shouted back. If the producer  wanted to involve all the permanent and casual help in our little argument, so be it!

    “They are not the questions!”

    “You don’t say? What a surprise! Well, let me tell you something, you moronic, thick-eared bastard: I’m not in the contest any more! So what does that mean, you blithering, thick-eared boofhead? It means most, if not all of the movie questions were out! And therefore I had to make up extra music questions instead, otherwise the program would have been so far too short, not even extra commercial breaks would make up the time. So go back to Monty and tell him he’s a bloody idiot and that I wouldn’t trust him to produce a rabbit out of a magician’s hat, let alone a halfway competent TV show. Go on, run back and tell him! And next time he has some stupid complaint, tell him not to send his messenger boy but to come down and talk to me his bloody self.”

     It was hard to tell what Peter was thinking behind those dark, celebrity glasses, but he seemed stunned. He was standing right in front of me, his lips moving but making no sound. You’d swear he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words.

    I wasn’t surprised that Monty had tried to use Peter as a messenger boy. Jellis couldn’t be spared, because he was dubbing the commercials.

    Grabbing hold of Peter by the shoulders, I drew him close. “Take no notice of what I just said,” I whispered. “It was a cover to protect you. I’m certain the killer is here amongst us. I want you to find Borne and tell him to station at least three or four of his heftiest men behind Darin. I want him arrested. Somehow, he’s found out what the questions are.”

    I had no time to explain any more. Young Trevor Holden was waving the countdown flag for the second round.
Ten, nine, eight, seven…     

    I didn’t sing much in the second round – just a few arias from
Rigoletto
and
Figaro
, some Irish traditionals, a handful of Neapolitan folk songs, and a couple of John Charles Thomas favorites.

    Narelle Manners edged ahead. And after that fantastic beginning, Darin trailed a dismal last, all the fight, all that get-up-and-buzz knocked right out of him. Maybe I was wrong. Maybe the Meyerbeer was just a lucky fluke?

    During the next commercial break, I didn’t wait for any Monty yes-man, but dashed up the ladder to the control booth myself. Jellis was transferring tape to tape, so there was no sound problem. Peter was sulking in a corner. I went straight up to Monty. “No more messages?” I asked.

    Monty seemed surprised to see me. “What the hell are you doing up here?”

    “I just don’t like messages by remote control. Did Peter impress upon you what I said? You got any problems,
you
tell me!”

    Monty stared at me blankly. “What are you yapping about? You should be standing by on the set.”