A Talent for Murder (31 page)

When camera number one again focused on Steven, he smiled and said, “Owww! That still hurts!” He good-naturedly rubbed the side of his face where he’d been slapped the week before. “Let’s get on with this final show. But first, take a minute to watch these great commercials from our amazing sponsors!”

When the stage lights dimmed, and the lights in the audience were turned up, Polly nudged Brian. “Where’s your beautiful Lyndie on this special night?”

Brian pointed into the audience. “She and Tiara are together. Isn’t that your son with them?”

Polly looked in the direction that Brian was pointing. “That’s my Timmy. And Placenta, too.”

Brian suddenly looked startled. “Oh, damn! I forgot to give this to you.” He reached into the breast pocket of his suit jacket and retrieved an envelope. “It’s from Tiara.”

Polly smiled and slipped a finger under the sealed flap of the envelope. She withdrew a sheet of expensive notepaper and began to read silently. When she finished, she smiled and looked up at Brian. “She’s a darling. I’m invited to their anniversary party celebration. Ten September.”

Brian nodded. “Guess we’ll see you there.”

“Anniversary,” Polly said in a cynical tone.

“Something wrong?” Brian asked.

Polly shook her head. “I’m such a ninny. I couldn’t keep two husbands, so I suppose I’m a bit suspect of others pretending domestic bliss.”

“Are you suggesting that Steven and Tiara aren’t as happy as they appear to be?”

Polly smiled sheepishly. “No relationship is perfect.”

Brian looked across the audience to Lyndie. “Steven and Tiara are both nice people, but…”

“But?” Polly said.

Brian looked at Polly, trusting that she was a clam. “I don’t like to spread rumors, but…”

“Spread ‘em!” Polly pleaded. Just then, the lights in the studio dimmed and the stage shone brighter. Polly whispered to Brian, “What rumors?”

“I’ll tell you during the next commercial break,” Brian said, and turned his attention toward the stage.

Polly huffed, but plastered on a wide smile for the camera.

“And we’re back!” Steven said with his boyish enthusiasm. “Ped-Xing and Socorro flipped a coin backstage, to determine who would be the first to perform this evening. Oh, and to make the competition just a little bit more exciting, Ped and Socorro each chose the other’s song. So, please welcome to the stage, Ped-Xing, singing ‘Muskrat Love’!”

Wild applause ensued as Ped-Xing ambled onto the stage, showing obvious disdain for the song he was about to sing. When his performance was over, he didn’t bother to bow. He simply walked forward and, with his arms defiantly folded across his chest, placed himself in line for a direct hit from the judges.

Steven put his arm around Ped-Xing’s shoulders. “To celebrate the return of our very own living legend, let’s allow Miss Polly Pepper to be the first to assess your performance.

“Whatever …” Ped-Xing said.

As cameras focused on Polly she smiled and waved to the audience. “Darling, Ped-Xing! I love that song! I loved it a hundred years ago when The Captain and Tennille made it a hit. You weren’t even a guppy in your father’s glands, but trust me, they were the cutest couple. Not the glands. The singers. You’d have to have been there to appreciate ‘em. We had corny acts then. Husbands and wives. Brothers and sisters. Entire families. Black ones and white ones and Christian ones and Mormon ones. La, what a lovely musical period. Of course, they all appeared on my show at one time or another. Purchase the new collector’s edition boxed DVD set from the first five seasons of
The Polly Pepper Playhouse
. You’ll see what I mean.”

“And the clock keeps ticking,” Steven Benjamin said.

“Anyway,” Polly continued, “you did a marvelous job, Mr. Ped-Xing. I could tell that you really felt those lyrics. ‘… and now he’s ticklin’ her fancy, rubbin’ her nose …’ So deep and yet you brought a genuine sense of what those two sexy muskrats were up to. I say, bravo!”

“What the hell’s a muskrat, anyway?” Ped-Xing said. “And does ‘ticklin’ her fancy’ mean what I think it does?”

Steven interrupted again and said, “I think this is a family show. So let’s hear from our very own best brownie baker in the country, Brian Smith!”

Brian smiled and accepted the applause from the audience. “I’m with Ped-Xing—and Polly Pepper. The lyrics are stupid, but Toni Tennille made it seem sweet—a quarter century ago,” he said. Considering the material, which I suspect was selected by Socorro specifically because the song is so dreadful, you did a decent job.

At least you spared us from clearly hearing all the lyrics. For that we’re grateful. Good job, man.”

Before Steven had an opportunity to introduce Richard Dartmouth, Richard spoke up. “Christalmighty! Man, you’re a drag! You have a lousy song to begin with, one that I thought couldn’t be any worse than the record, and you succeed in proving me wrong. You’ve just wasted three and a half minutes of my life! Did it ever occur to you to save what little dignity you may have and refuse to perform that tripe in public? Jeez!”

The cameras refocused on Steven, whose dimples seemed to grow deeper by the minute. “A novel thought from Mr. Positive! I think we’re off to our usual interesting start! Now let’s see how Socorro handles the song that Ped-Xing selected specifically for her. Please welcome back to the stage Socorro Sanchez, to sing ‘Torn Between Two Lovers.’“

As the key light followed Socorro to her place on the stage, the audience’s applause was tepid but she maintained her straight posture and held her head high. Polly was convinced that Socorro’s confidence was a result of believing that she held the trump card: the DVDs of the sexcapades between Steven and her, and Steven and the other contestants. Although her mother obviously wouldn’t be delivering the discs as they had planned, her friend Michael wouldn’t let her down. She was certain that he’d ride in at the last moment and prove that she was the most nefarious of them all, and would thus win the grand prize.

As Socorro began to sing, Polly leaned forward on the table and looked intently at the performer.
With her mother in the jail ward at Cedars Sinai, why is Socorro even onstage? Sure, the show must go on, but your mother’s been accused of attempted murder, and she’s
suffered a concussion at the hands of her almost victims.

When the spotlight was again focused on a beaming Steven Benjamin, Polly nudged Brian Smith and whispered, “Remember that kid Michael who was at our dinner party? Have you seen him today?”

Brian shrugged and stuck out his lower lip. “I don’t think so.”

Richard Dartmouth was the first to send his verbal daggers toward the stage. “I’m torn too,” he said to Socorro, “between suicide and murder. Honey,” he continued, “you didn’t display an ounce of genuine feeling. It’s a song about a tramp who’s wracked with guilt because she’s cheating on two guys, both of whom she desperately wants to bang her. You acted as though you were torn between the Big Mac and the chicken nuggets!”

As the audience booed, Socorro gave him the finger.

The audience broke into wild applause with hoots and whistles thrown in for good measure.

When the camera again found Richard, he was smirking and shaking his head.

From the stage, Steven called on Brian Smith to offer his evaluation of Socorro and her rendition of “Torn Between Two Lovers.”

“Heya, Socorro,” he said, “I’ve been there. I think we all have. It’s tough when you can’t decide, but here’s a bit of advice, forget the heart, go for the gold!”

Again the audience erupted with applause, as though Brian had said the only sensible thing. Brian continued and said, “I’m only suggesting that if you love two guys, and one has money, catch the one with the dollar signs sparkling in his eyes!”

Steven looked out toward the audience. “Brian got
lucky. His wife is stunning
and
rich. Stand up, Lyndie! I saw you sitting in the audience.” The camera found Mrs. Brian Smith. She halfheartedly waved and smiled uncomfortably.

“Good advice, my man,” Steven said to Brian as the camera now captured a smiling Polly Pepper. Polly looked at Socorro and said, “Lovely, dear. And nowadays, having two people who love you is rare. The song is very hopeful. And I sincerely hope that your mother is feeling better.”

Steven Benjamin acknowledged that Socorro’s mother had been hospitalized for “a trauma to her head.” He then shot Polly a stern look.

“I’m sure that if they allow television in the lock-down ward at Cedars, your performance tonight is helping your mother to recuperate,” Polly said. “Plus, there’s a rumor spreading like intestinal bacteria in Mexico that we’re in for a very special surprise!”

When the lights in the audience again went up, Polly found Tiara Benjamin standing by her side.

“Lovely to see you again, Polly,” Tiara said. “I wanted to say hello before the cocktail crush after the show. You know how those things are, with a sea of studio execs and all the wankers who’ve worked on the show mingling and drinking, I might not be able to find you.”

Polly stood up to embrace Tiara. “Love your outfit. Valentino?” she said, holding Tiara’s hands and stepping back to view her clothes. “I know you never come to the show, but I’m happy that you decided to make an exception for me tonight.”

“I’m here as much for Steven,” Tiara said.

“And thank you for your kind invitation. Love the stationery. And the type font is precious! I always think it’s a grand idea to celebrate milestones in our lives. An
anniversary. Nothing could be more exciting!” She looked into Tiara’s eyes. “My goodness! Ten glorious years of love, comfort, honor, fidelity, et cetera. All that crap that one has to promise to one’s partner. I don’t know that I could ever do that again. Sounds good on paper, but there are so many temptations, especially in this town where everybody is beyond gorgeous!”

Tiara sighed. “Yeah, I suppose marriage has never been a breeze for anyone. Still, I like being attached to one bloke. Especially a bloke who is as attractive and seductive as my Steven. Even if he wanted to leave me, I’d never let him go.”

“Toothache all gone?” Polly inquired.

“Toothache? Oh, absolutely! Steven cracked a tooth on something silly like cotton candy.” She looked up at the stage searching for a glimpse of her husband; then she looked at her watch. “I’d better scatter back to my seat. The show’s about to continue. See you in a tick or two. Yes?”

As Tiara left the judges’ area and wended her way back to her seat in the VIP section of the audience, Polly took out her invitation to Steven and Tiara’s upcoming anniversary party. She caressed the fine linen paper and stared at the words for such a long time that Brian Smith leaned over and said, “Are you memorizing the invitation?”

Polly smiled. “I was just thinking what an amazing woman Tiara is. And I adore how Brits use the English language better than we do. Steven should be in heaven.” Polly placed the notepaper back in its envelope and slipped it into her clutch purse. She looked down to the end of the table and saw Richard speaking into his cell phone. “Can you believe that man?” she said to Brian. “He hasn’t said one word to me. I dug out an expensive
bottle of Veuve to bring as a gift. I’m glad I decided to drink it myself.

“So, Brian, you were about to tell me rumors….” The announcer counted down, “Five. Four. Three. Two …”

“A
nd we’re back,” Steven said from the stage. “Since this is our last time together, and before our popular interview section of the program, let’s walk down memory lane, and take a look at a few of the more exciting moments from the past five weeks.”

Instantly, the lights in the studio dimmed, the curtains behind Steven parted, and a large movie screen was revealed. A montage of images of the contestants and judges filled the screen, as a documentary about the making of
I’ll Do Anything to Become Famous
began to play.

Polly and the studio and television viewing audience watched as potential contestants first auditioned for the program. Some were mortifyingly awful, while others, especially Ped-Xing, seemed at home in front of the camera and found an easy rapport with the audience. Images of the first night and the cruel treatment that each contestant on the stage had received from Thane Cornwall made the audience boo. But then there were the backstage rantings of the contestants, each of whom had scathing words for Thane, and threats of being accountable for his quick demise. These made the audiences
roar with approval, despite the fact that each of the contestants’ promises for retribution had come to pass. Thane was as dead as they’d all pledged.

As the montage continued, Polly watched clips from the shows that she had missed. She found herself rooting with the audience when the screen filled with Richard Dartmouth proclaiming, “Miranda’s diaphragm must be filled with nuclear waste because there was no other way to account for her freakishly deformed and mutilated singing.”

“Boo!” Polly joined the audience.

And then the orchestra began to play the somber “Goin’ Home” as the screen momentarily went to black and the words IN MEMORIAM appeared. A moment later, a photograph of a smiling Thane Cornwall appeared, accompanied by his name and the years of his birth and death. The audience was respectfully silent. Then, an image of Danny Castillo filled the screen. Again, the audience was reverent. Finally, the screen faded to black. As the lights in the studio illuminated the audience, Steven Benjamin returned to the stage and led the applause.

“Thane Cornwall. Danny Castillo,” Steven said. “Both men provided their unique talents to this show and we will always be grateful for their contributions.”

After a short moment of dignified silence, Steven continued his job as host. “Ped-Xing and Socorro have come a long way, but tonight only one will receive the coveted Get out of Jail Free card for proving that they’ll do anything to become famous. Up until now, our television viewing audience has voted each week, but tonight, the studio audience will determine the winner. And there’s still one more hurdle to cross for our two remaining contestants.”

On cue, both contestants ambled center stage into
the spotlight. Looking like juvenile delinquents being summoned before a criminal court judge, they stared down at Richard, Brian, and Polly, with looks that dared anyone to ask a question more difficult than to remember what they’d had for lunch.