Authors: Kerry Greenwood
The darkness was enlightened as I lit the candles and Daniel swore fluently in Hebrew. His spreadsheet had gone with the wind.
‘Join me on the couch and tell me everything you can remember,’ I suggested. ‘That will fix it all in your mind. And I’m dying for something to divert me from worrying about Jason.’
‘All right, beloved, let’s try that,’ he said, snuggling down beside me as the rain poured onto the windows as from a large celestial jug. ‘You can just hear the reservoirs filling, can’t you? And by the way, I am sure that Jason will come round in time. I met him in the atrium and he did actually say “Hey,” which is encouraging.’
‘I suppose so,’ I agreed. ‘But you haven’t betrayed him. And he thinks I have. Tell me about the TV studio.’
‘Well, any one of the crew or the cast could have done the tricks,’ he said, settling back and cuddling me to his side. ‘And as for motive, Ms Atkins was the main victim and she really is an unpleasant woman. I spoke to her about little Zephaniah and she said, “My demented sister must have given him that ugly name.” And that was all she said. Her principal enemies seem to be Ethan and Emily. The crew might have done it because they wanted to please Ethan. It didn’t require much computer knowledge to hack into the website and change the captions. Anyway, these days everyone knows a whizkid geek who can make any system sit up, roll over and beg.’
‘We know three of them ourselves,’ I remarked.
‘Yes, I have asked the Lone Gunmen to see if they can track the vandal. And forestall him if he tries again. The age of the hacker is indicated by the names he gave the actors. Specifically, he described Ms Atkins as “a big fat ho”.’
I giggled. ‘She’d really object to the “fat”,’ I said.
‘And as to the rest, who can say?’ said Daniel tactfully. ‘Now, the chief suspect is Ethan, because he has the technical knowledge, can’t stand Ms Atkins, and is indignant on behalf of Emily.’
‘Yes, but Daniel, he needs to keep this commission. He deferred a deal in the US to work with Tash.’
‘True. Emily is very young, has the requisite knowledge and access, is certainly badly treated. She’s a young woman from a nice middle-class background. Not too good at school but a smash hit in drama. Just out of NIDA, brimming with ambition.’
‘And talent,’ I said, and told him about her wickedly accurate imitation of Ms Atkins. He nodded. In the flickering light, he made a definite image of dark brooding intelligence. The writers had been right. He would make a wonderful vampire. ‘But she needs Ms Atkins to succeed in the profession of her choice. So that means it probably isn’t her.’
‘Then there’s Tommy,’ said Daniel. ‘This might be an attempt to sabotage her company. What do you know about her?’
‘Not a lot,’ I admitted. I paused as a crash, similar to a few large lorries colliding, abolished speech. In the silence that followed I heard Horatio give out a faint mew of protest from inside his wardrobe. There was nothing I could do for the poor cat. The storm must be right overhead and appeared to be settling in for a long stay. ‘She left school, did a catering course, was apprenticed in one of the top restaurants then went to London to work in gastropubs. Somewhere along the way she acquired Julie, with whom we were at school, and came out as a lesbian. I had no idea. Came back here, set up Maitresse, and she has been very successful.’
‘Why?’ asked Daniel.
‘Usual reasons. The food is clever but not so innovative as to be confronting. The ingredients are top-notch. She employs the best chefs and treats them well. All of her staff appear to like working for her, even if they don’t precisely like her. Good pay, good conditions.’
‘Rivals?’
‘There must be some. And sneaking an apprentice or dishwasher into an enemy’s kitchen is not unknown. Industrial espionage. The spy is there to find out the secret ingredients and steal the best recipes. Or the mother of bread, in the case of a baker. But I never heard of such a spy actually sabotaging the food. I suppose it could happen.’
‘There is a culinary aspect to all the attacks,’ said Daniel. ‘Mustard, wasabi, chilli oil.’
‘I thought that they might have been designed to point to Ethan,’ I said. ‘He loves all those hot things.’
‘He says he didn’t do it,’ Daniel told me. ‘He’s worried. He does need the contract. He really wants to work with Tash. And if Tash means Ms Atkins, then he’s willing to put up with her. I wonder why she hates him?’
‘Could it be that he has failed to succumb to her charms?’ I asked.
‘It could be that he refused her straight-out proposition.’ Daniel hugged me. ‘Ethan says that she practically ordered him into her bed and he equally flatly declined to go. He seems to have fallen for Bernie, by the way. His PA, Samantha, is very dark on him at the moment. Ethan’s a genius. They are always hard to live with. They think that the rules do not apply to them.’
‘Samantha need not worry. I gather that Ethan is not monogamous.’
‘No, while he’s with someone he’s unseduceable—is that a word? He cannot be distracted. But after, as Samantha says, he concentrates his whole attention on a woman and sucks her dry, he gets bored and has to move on. That may be why he’s had so many assistants.’
‘So Ethan leaves a trail of broken hearts behind him,’ I mused. ‘Could Samantha have done it, to ruin Ethan?’
‘Yes. She’s quite able to get close enough to him to pick his pocket of that foul chilli oil. He does tend to embrace people, quite absent-mindedly. All they have to be, as Sam remarked, is breathing. And she said she wouldn’t trust him with a not-quite-cold corpse if it was good-looking.’
‘She sounds quite upset.’
‘She’s not the only one. Harrison—the one who looks like an angel—is infatuated with the sound man, Ali, who is a straight, married Muslim. Really straight and rather prickly about it. The more abusive he gets the more Harrison follows him around, posing in the best light and giving him melting looks. Ali has been restrained from belting him by his regard for Ethan, whom he says is the only cameraman who appreciates sound. Sound men are always grumpy. It’s a hard life.’
Thunder rolled overhead like Thor’s chariot going over a very bumpy road. There was a silence after the sound. I heard Horatio complain. Daniel resumed his recital.
‘Harrison himself admits that he is infatuated with Ali, whom he is convinced will come around in time. He has always managed to get whoever he wants so hasn’t much tolerance for failure. He looks on this production as his next step in a rising career which will get him even more boys of his choice plus money and fame. He sees himself in five years’ time lolling on the balcony of a five-star hotel, eating caviar with a soup spoon. Has food issues, too. Devout Buddhist. Thinks that the trickster is working out some details of Ms Atkins’ karma.’
I regret to say that I laughed. Karmically, Ms Atkins would be lucky if she was reincarnated as an earwig.
Daniel went on, ‘Gordon and Kendall, the writers, are offended by the way that Ms Atkins changes their scripts, even after they have been debated and endlessly rewritten and given the seal of approval. The word is that they are a top team, though their sexuality is murky. No one knows if they are on together or not. Kendall is supporting a mother with Alzheimer’s and Gordon lives on her own in a tiny flat in St Kilda. Both are short of money and surely would not want to ruin the show, from which they will make a packet if it is syndicated. Kylie and Goss can be ruled out. They have their big break and so far are doing well.’
‘Except that they told Jason I had replaced him,’ I growled.
‘Except for that,’ Daniel agreed, kissing my forehead. ‘They haven’t got less airheaded, I admit. I don’t think that the soap opera ethos is a good influence, you know. It’s all emotion. No reason. And actors are so emulous. That girl who dresses in all the Goth/punk gear, her name is Abby Johnson. She’s a serious young woman, computer illiterate, who just wants to be an actress and yearns for Shakespeare and Brecht. She’s in love with Ethan as well, but hasn’t managed to attract his attention. Yet.’
‘Her turn will come,’ I predicted.
‘Probably. I had the greatest difficulty preventing her from reciting the whole of the “Make me a willow cabin by your gate” speech. She has the brain of a peahen but a very good memory. And she expects this production to smuggle her into theatre. Not a likely saboteur. In any case, she could not have done the hacking. She takes five minutes to find the “on” switch.’
‘And her character has to spout paragraphs of techno- babble. Odd.’
‘No problem for her, she doesn’t need to understand it, she just has to say it, and she does, flawlessly. Then there’s Elton, who plays Matt, the office boy and PA to Ms Atkins’ superbitch, Courtneigh Yronsyde. I don’t quite know what to make of Elton,’ said Daniel. ‘On the face of it he is a straight playing a gay, a calm person playing a neurotic, and a strong-minded man playing a jittery, overmastered boy. Which makes deciding on his actual personality difficult.’
‘How do you feel about him?’ I asked.
‘He’s hiding something,’ said Daniel slowly. ‘But everyone has something to hide.’
‘Ms Atkins?’ I asked, settling down cosily for more gossip.
‘She’s a bit of a mystery,’ he said slowly, tightening his grip on me as the thunder crashed again. I knew that Daniel liked storms but this one was unexpectedly fierce. I fought down an urge to join Horatio in his wardrobe.
‘In what way?’ I asked when I could be heard again.
‘Despite the best endeavours of the gossip mags, her family remains obscure,’ he told me. ‘This is a little like being under artillery fire, you know. Without the risk of a sudden and messy death, of course. Not being shot at always improves your day. Where was I? Ah, yes. She was born an indeterminate number of years ago to poor—’
‘But honest parents?’ I sang the first line of that scourge of pub singers, ‘The Wild Colonial Boy’.
Daniel smiled. ‘Not conspicously. Her father was a dealer in stolen goods—at least, that’s what he went to jail for when Ms Atkins was a child. Her mother managed badly with three daughters. One of them was Molly, who joined every drama class and small production going, perhaps to get out of the house, which can’t have been happy. She worked at various trades to scrape up the money for more classes. That’s when she changed her accent from lower working class to middle American. She got into modelling. That can be a murky world for the young and hungry. Somewhere along the way she got pregnant, vanished for a while, gave birth. I’ve no idea of the identity of the father of little Zephaniah. The birth certificate is blank. Her siblings did not do well. One died of a stroke a long time ago and the other married a bricklayer and has three children and no interest in acting or her famous sister. There’s a suggestion that Molly might have had a brother who was put away in some kind of home. Brain-damaged, I think. As I said, if the gossip mags haven’t found out, I’m not going to succeed. They’ve got more resources than I have. Then Molly married and had a son—another son, I mean—who died tragically. Since then she has had a few high-profile affairs but shows no sign of marrying again.’
‘Unsurprisingly,’ I said.
‘Indeed. Independently wealthy by reason of shrewd investments of the divorce settlement and life insurance policy on her son. But the cosmetic surgery must cost a packet,’ added Daniel. ‘She doesn’t need the money but she does need the break. I had considered that perhaps she was playing these tricks on herself, but I can’t see why she would.’
‘Neither can I,’ I said. ‘Who else did you talk to?’
‘Marina—she’s the editor. Doesn’t mingle with the actors, she’s post production. There’s an editing suite in the studio and she and her minions mostly hang out there. I also talked to the rest of the crew. They are all Ethan’s disciples. They would never do anything to hurt his prospects. They mostly despise the show, but that is not their business. Rob, who is continuity, says that they will ride to success on Ethan’s coat tails, if he wore coats with tails. So far,’ concluded Daniel, ‘not a lot to go on.’
‘No.’ I was beginning to sweat again. The air-conditioning had gone off with the power and Daniel radiated heat. I moved away from him a little. Outside the storm crashed and the wind moaned and inside Horatio cried from his wardrobe.
‘The name is curious,’ he said.
‘What name?’
‘Zephaniah. In Hebrew it means something like “hidden by God” or “treasure of God”. Isn’t there a Book of Zephaniah in the Bible? He was a friend of Jeremiah, as I recall. Have you got a Bible handy?’
‘Yes, but it’s going to be tricky to read by candlelight.’ I fetched it.
Daniel reached into his satchel and retrieved a little book light. It uncurled itself in an eerie fashion and illuminated the old Bible as I leafed through it.
‘Yes, here we are, between Habakkuk and Haggai. One of the little prophets.
The
word of the Lord received by Zephaniah, son of Cushi
. Hmm.’
He read rapidly. I looked over his shoulder. Zephaniah was one of those severe prophets, who came in wrath. ‘
There will be a cry from the fish gate and a howling from the second and a great crashing from the hills
.’ I was reminded of
Round the Horne
. ‘What is your message of hope?’ ‘We be doomed.’ Zephaniah was much concerned with doom. He seemed to particularly have it in for the inhabitants of Moab and Askelon. He added the Ethiopians and Canaan. He had a nice turn of phrase:
And flocks shall lie down in the midst of her, all the beasts of the nations: both the cormorant and the bittern shall lodge in the upper lintels of it: their voice shall sing in the windows: desolation shall be in the thresholds: for he shall uncover the cedar-work
. It finished with a promise to undo all that should afflict Israel, and promised that they should be gathered together again in joy.