Black Is the Fashion for Dying (24 page)

“What's this?” Captain Walsh demanded.

Sergeant Grimsby said, “Dueling pistol.”

“I can see that.”

“Got two of 'em,” Selig said, producing a duplicate weapon from another pocket. “Supposed to go up on the wall in—”

Gordon's voice cut in. “
Tell the captain where you got it, Selig.
”

“Fabro.”

“
And where'd he get it?
”

“Orthman's.”

“
When?
”

“Morning Miss Garnet got shot.”

“
Thanks.
”

Selig mumbled, “Sure,” and went back to his seat. “This is absurd,” Sergeant Grimsby said. “I examined both pistols and—”

Gordon cut in again. “
Mr. Orthman?
”

“Yes?”

“
You bring those bullets?
”

“All five boxes.” Yellow face and too-big eyes solemn, Mr. Orthman brought a paper bag to the table, took out the five white cardboard boxes. “Webley-Fosbery, .325 caliber.”

“
Somebody open 'em.
”

With thumb and forefinger Captain Walsh pulled the already loosened staples from the boxes, took off all five cardboard tops. Blake could see the copper sheen of the closely packed cartridges from where he was sitting.

“
Any missing?
”

Walsh bent over the boxes. “One.”

“Naturally,” Sergeant Grimsby said. “The cartridge that was found on Blake.”

“
And that's all that are missing?
”

Captain Walsh ran his forefinger over each box. “Yep. Just one.”

“
That can't be.
”

“Is.” Walsh peered reflectively at the boxes. “But I see what you're drivin' at. Or were. You figured the killer got his bullets from one of the boxes here.”

“
Fabro,
” Gordon said. “
While he was buying the dueling pistols.
”

Walsh glanced up at Mr. Orthman's politely attentive face. “Fabro have a chance to fool with these boxes?”

“He did if you mean the fat man with the bad teeth,” Mr. Orthman said. “While I was cleaning the pistols for him.”

“Only it seems he didn't fool with them,” Captain Walsh said, looking down at the boxes.

“I could have told you that, Captain,” Sergeant Grimsby said. “I examined each one personally.”

“
Each bullet?
” Gordon demanded.

“Well, no—”

“
Dump 'em out, Captain.
”

One by one Walsh emptied the boxes on the table, keeping each copper pile separate. “I don't see—” he began, and then he said, “Well, what d'you know.” He plucked two cartridges from the third copper pile, dropped them on a bare section of the table. Sergeant Grimsby, rising, pulled Blake to his feet, led him over to the table.

“
Well, what gives?
” Gordon demanded.

Peering over Grimsby's shoulder, Blake saw that the two cartridges, instead of having steel noses like the others, were stuffed with paper that had been rounded out to simulate noses. Mr. Orthman examined one cartridge and then the other. “Why, those are two of the blanks I made for Mr. Romero,” he said. “Only they've been fired.”

Gordon again demanded to know what gave. Captain Walsh told him. “
Smarter than I thought,
” Gordon said. “
Substituted the blanks for the bullets he stole. Figured with the paper noses holding them in place nobody'd notice.
”

“You got hold of something, all right,” Walsh said. “But these aren't the blanks we been looking for. These have been fired.”

“Lisa
fired them.
”

“Now wait a minute.” Walsh turned, squinted at Lisa. “When did she do that?'

“
In the scene with Caresse.
”

“Ridiculous,” Sergeant Grimsby said. “We found the expended shells in the tent.”

“
Just the same she fired blanks.
”

Lisa said, “You mean I didn't kill her, Josh?”

“
Fabro did.
”

“You keep saying that,” Captain Walsh said. “But it still don't make it so.” He picked up the two shells, cradled them in his palm. “Far as I can see, all you've proved is that the shells killed Miss Garnet came from this box here.”

“And that Fabro had a chance to steal them,” Blake said.

“So?”

“
So let me put it all together,
” Gordon said.

“Go right ahead,” Captain Walsh grinned derisively at the built-in speaker. “You show how blanks and real shells can be fired from a pistol at the same time, and how a guy can be in his office and killing a woman on a set, still at the same time, and I'll fix your next murder rap.”

Profoundly shocked, Sergeant Grimsby exclaimed, “Captain.”

“Shut up. And sit down.”

The metal cuff twisted the skin on Blake's wrist as Grimsby pulled him back to their chairs. “Go ahead, Mr. Gordon,” Captain Walsh said.

“
You want to take over, Dick?
”

“Me?” The cuff tightened again as Blake swiveled around. “I don't even know where to begin.”

“
Begin with the victim.
” A crackle of static came from the speaker as Gordon paused. “
Caresse Garnet. Finished as a leading lady. Five flops in a row. Yet Fabro kept her under contract. Anybody know why?
”

“We all wondered about that,” Lisa said.

“
Blackmail. Had the goods on him. Contracts kept her quiet until he had to drop her. Orders, probably, from New York. Only she wouldn't be dropped
… so
he had to kill her.
”

Suddenly Blake began to see daylight. Or at least a patch of it. “The ledgers!” he exclaimed.

“
Right. Three ledgers Ashton Graves told us about, Captain. Which she kept in her bedroom. And which I broke
my
God-damn leg trying to get.
”

“You know what was in those ledgers?”

“
The collected works of Caresse's great and true friend. The late Edgar Allan Pixley, poet and genius.
”

“The guy that actor was made up to look like?”

“
Exactly. And whose plays Fabro cribbed.
Sky Without Stars. Merchant of Hate. Fox in the Vineyard.
Changed poetry into prose and won two Academy Awards.
”

“Along with Major Studio,” Blake said.

Captain Walsh squinted at the speaker, his face puzzled. “Even if Miss Garnet was going to blow the whistle on him for stealing the plays, doesn't hardly seem a reason for murder.”

“
You aren't in the movie business, Captain. Cribbing in our circles is worse than taking bribes in yours.
”

“You seen those ledgers?”

“
No.
”

“Then how do you know he cribbed them?”

“
Christ!
” Gordon said. “
Would he have whizzed out of that theater like a fart in a windstorm if he hadn't?
”

Lisa Carson

She couldn't help laughing. Somehow even the most hideous vulgarities seemed funny when Josh said them. But most of her laughter came from relief. It almost looked as though Dick had a chance now. She could see, from the smile on his face, that he thought so, too. He undoubtedly understood everything Josh was saying, and in what she could understand there was at least the start of a case against Fabro.

Now if Josh could only show how Caresse was killed.

Captain Walsh, waiting for laughter from the others to die down, was evidently thinking the same thing. Quiet restored, he said, “So far you're strong on theory, Mr. Gordon. But weak on facts. Especially on the murder itself.”

“
I'm coming to that. I've just been …
” Josh paused and then his voice demanded, “
What in hell do you want?”

A woman's tart voice said, “
I'm the night supervisor of nurses here, Mr. Gordon.
”

“
You look more like the head matron at Buchenwald.
”

“
I have a complaint from Miss Whitley.
”

“
She the fat nurse I kicked?
”

“
Yes, And let me tell you, Mr. Gordon, I will not tolerate
—” An anguished sound, half grunt, half cry, came from the loudspeaker. Then there was the sound of a door being slammed. “
Old battle-axe,
” Josh said. “
Kicked her, too.
” There was a sound of metal striking glass, a sound of swallowing. “
Just finishing brandy,
” Josh explained. “
Before they come and get it.
”

Captain Walsh said, “You better hurry and finish up here, too.”

“
Yeah. Had, at that. Suppose, for speed, I read you the notes I pot written down, you ask questions later?
”

“That's okay by me.”

There was a rustling sound of paper and Josh began, “
Send Yeonne five hundred bucks and tell her
—” More paper rustled. “
Wrong notes,
” Josh said. There was a moment of silence and then he began again.

“
Steps by Fatso after decide murder Caresse. Naked blonde to Blake so can make sure Lisa still shoots Caresse in scene, Webley mentioned in script so next morning swipes bullets at Orthman's. Goes on set, swipes Webley from wardrobe cabinet, loads in bullets. Caresse in scene where bearers put down stretcher, drink at pool. Fatso knows action continuous to Lisa shooting Caresse. Catches Caresse waiting for bearers at pool, shoots her twice. Pulls blanket over
—”

“Look,” Captain Walsh broke in. “We said no questions, but how could he plug her with fifty, sixty people around?”

“
Everybody was watching the bearers drink out of the pool.
”

“Somebody'd hear the shots.”

“
He had the pistol wrapped up in something.
”

“Sure, but—”

“
And he'd read the script. He knew Gus Romero was supposed to fire some shots off scene.
”

“Three shots,” Dick said excitedly. “And Fabro fired at the same time.”

“I don't like it,” Captain Walsh said. “But go on.”

“
—shoots her twice. Pulls blanket over her, she pretending to be unconscious anyway. Pockets expended shells, puts Webley back in wardrobe cabinet, goes back to office. Call comes. Caresse dead in tent. Hurries to set, goes in tent to look at body. Picks up expended blanks Lisa fired, drops expended murder shells in place. Orders nobody leave set but goes out to greet arriving cops, at same time getting rid of blanks. Later takes blanks back to Orthman's, puts them in box he stole bullets out of. Also steals ledgers and gets rid of them. Sits back. No evidence. Not even on set when cops think Caresse killed. Perfect crime.
”

The loudspeaker fell silent. Lisa glanced at the faces around her. Captain Walsh, hunched with half-closed eyes over the table, looked like a chess player contemplating a move. Herbie was grinning, and so was Dick. Sergeant Grimsby looked as though someone had stolen a lollipop from him. The others looked bewildered.

“Hell of a theory,” Captain Walsh said finally. “Real fancy.”

“
Then you buy it?
”

“I don't know.”

“It's the only way everything fits,” Dick said. “The blonde. The ledgers. Fabro buying the dueling pistols.”

“A theory is one thing,” Sergeant Grimsby said. “But proving it is another.”

“Yeah.” Captain Walsh nodded slowly. “That'll take some doing.”

“
I can do it now,
” Josh said.

“How?”

“
Show 'em the film, Chuck.
”

Everyone turned to look at Chuck Eastman. He leaned forward, pushed one of the buttons on the control table. The neon lights dimmed, went out, and at the same time the screen lit up. It was, Lisa saw, the scene they had started with when Dick had run from the projection room. Caresse being carried along the jungle trail by the litter bearers. It went on just as before. The bearers reached the clearing by the pool, put down the litter and went off to drink. Caresse, all but her face hidden by the blanket, opened her eyes and smiled her evil smile as two shots sounded off scene. The camera panned down to the pool. While the bearers were drinking there three more shots sounded.

Josh's voice said, “
That's when she got it.
”

Now the bearers were scrambling up the embankment. Caresse was still under the blanket on the litter, her face turned towards the camera, her eyes closed. The bearers bent to pick her up and the screen abruptly went blank.

“What's wrong?” Captain Walsh demanded.

“Switching to the slow motion reel,” Chuck Eastman said. “Just take a second.”

The new film was different. It was not only in slow motion, but it had been blown up so that Caresse filled the whole screen and only the hands of the bearers could be seen. Also a black line had been ruled across the film about eighteen inches above the base of the litter. It just touched the blanket above Caresse's chest. As the litter was being lifted, Josh's voice came through the loudspeaker again.

“
Watch that line.
”

The film was scratchy and the scarlet of Caresse's lips and the brown of the blanket had a washed-out look. That was, Lisa supposed, because of being blown up. She concentrated on the black line. The litter was being carried by the bearers now and Caresse's arm, sliding out from under the blanket, dangled below it. She saw the black line was still just barely touching the blanket and suddenly she saw what it meant The line wasn't moving and neither was the blanket under it. Caresse wasn't breathing!

For perhaps thirty seconds more, adobe blanket and black line remained in view and then jungle leaves, five times their normal size, intervened. From the sound track came Josh's voice: “
Cut! And thank you.
” The projection beam went off and the room lights came on. Everyone sat motionless, eyes fixed on the empty screen.