Murder at the Movies (7 page)

“Murder,” Tretheway finished. “Fortunately only attempted. But still premeditated murder.”

“Now just a minute, Inspector.” Freeman Thake rose quietly from his seat. “If I understand, you're saying that someone saw
The Wizard of Oz,
saw Dorothy's house fall on the Witch and tried to emulate this?”

“That's right,” Tretheway said.

“Come, come Inspector,” Thake argued. “What about the bulldozer? You can't plan that?”

“True,” Tretheway said. “But it is all part of his technique. His targets of opportunity approach. I'm convinced he planned something else. His own vehicle perhaps. I've seen the Hamilton home. Concrete blocks. Not too substantial. Wouldn't take much to knock it over. But when you're practically handed a bulldozer,” Tretheway poked his stubby index finger in the air, “much more efficient. And spectacular.” Thake sat down muttering.

“But what about the noise?” Violet asked.

“It's a noisy area,” Tretheway said. “Close to Stelfy. Not too many homes.” He mentioned that there were no witnesses. “Also, it's a tight-lipped neighbourhood.”

Joshua Pike entered the discussion. “Just how do you explain the singing?” He stretched as tall as his short legs would allow. Both hands rested on the chair in front of him, taking the weight off his bunioned feet. From the waist up, he was a big man. His prominent teeth, set in a jutting lantern jaw, showed pleasantly as he spoke. “The song? The one that started ‘Ding Dong'?”

“Remember the song the Munchkins sang in the movie?” Tretheway asked.

Joshua shook his large head.

“‘Ding Dong, the Witch Is Dead,'” Tretheway reminded

Lulu and Violet inhaled loudly again.

“In the paper it said a high-pitched voice,” Joshua said. “Does this suggest a woman was driving the bulldozer?”

“Maybe, maybe not,” Tretheway said. “More likely an attempt by our Fan to imitate a Munchkin.”

“Isn't that taxing the imagination just a bit?” Miles Terminus said. “Couldn't it still be a coincidence?”

“Too many coincidences, Miles,” Tretheway said. “And I'll give you one more. The name of the woman almost killed by the falling house was Hamilton. The name of the actress who plays the Witch in the movie was also Hamilton. Margaret Hamilton.”

“That could still be a coincidence,” Lulu said.

“I agree,” Thake said. “After all, it was just one movie. And just one … ah … misadventure.”

Tretheway sighed. He shook his head. “No. This is the third. There were two other movies. And, as you say, misadventures.”

Tretheway waited for the facts to sink in during the stunned lull that followed.

“I'll make some tea,” Addie said. She left.

“I'll help,” Gum said following Addie to the kitchen.

Tretheway went on to explain about
Flying Deuces
and
Only Angels Have Wings
.

“I can understand your surprise,” he concluded. “The stolen horse and derby never made the paper. And the condor plan was aborted. You have not been privy to all the facts.” He nodded at Jake and Wan Ho. “We have. The three incidents alone are mere stories. Even amusing. But in my opinion, connected together they foretell a pattern of escalating danger. Even murder.”

They all resumed or re-arranged themselves in their seats. Chairs creaked. A kettle whistled in the kitchen. Neil Heavenly raised his hand.

“Yes, Neil,” Tretheway said.

“There's one question nobody's asked,” he said. “But I think it's important.”

“I can guess what it is,” Tretheway said. “But go ahead.”

Neil Heavenly stood up. His curly, reddish brown forelock bounced boyishly on his freckled brow. He looked younger than twenty-seven. According to Thake, Neil had driven his battered pickup truck out of the depressed prairies about four years ago, heading for a more affluent Southern Ontario. He'd held a number of jobs, one of them as a projectionist. Thake
hired him and had never regretted it. Although small in stature, Heavenly easily hefted the numerous unwieldy cans of film and hopped nimbly around the complicated projector. He was habitually early on the job and usually the last to leave the theatre. His knowledge of cinematic history rivalled Jake's. He lived alone, lifted weights and bit his nails to the quick.

“Why?” Neil Heavenly asked. He pushed his hands self-consciously into his pockets. “Why is this person doing all these mysterious deeds?”

“That's the one,” Tretheway said. “Good question. And I can give you a straightforward answer.”

Jake and Wan Ho exchanged puzzled looks.

“I don't know,” Tretheway said. “I have absolutely no idea why our Fan is doing what he's doing.”

Lulu giggled nervously. Neil Heavenly sat down, his hands still in his pockets. China and cutlery noises came from the kitchen. Miles Terminus spoke.

“There's one thing we haven't determined.”

“What's that, Miles?” Tretheway asked.

“Are you sure our Fan, as you call him, saw all the movies at the West End?”

“Good point,” Tretheway said. “We spent a little time last week at the Expo office. Checking the movie ads from January on.”

Jake smiled at the choice of “we.”

“All three movies played at different theatres by themselves,” Tretheway explained. “But only at the West End did they all play. Is that likely, Freeman?”

“Hard to tell without checking,” Thake said. “But it's possible.”

“Neil?” Tretheway asked.

Neil Heavenly nodded in agreement.

“So let's assume that our Fan is a West End regular,” Tretheway said.

“But what about
The Wizard of Oz
?” Violet asked. “It was all children.”

“We were all there,” Joshua said.

“And other adults,” Lulu said.

“That's right,” Terminus said. “Parents.”

“We're assuming they were parents,” Wan Ho said.

“For that matter,” Tretheway said, “anyone could've slipped in that day.” He let the group simmer down before he went on. “Think about this for a moment. It's possible that Vi sold our Fan a ticket. That Freeman tore it in half. And Lulu or Joshua ushered him to a seat.” Tretheway paused. “At least three times.”

A
pril proved to be a wet month; the wettest in twenty-three years, the Fort York meteorologist said. And world events reflected the dismal local weather. Poland mobilized one million men. The Nazis openly boasted that the Allies could do nothing against Germany's might. Roosevelt said such talk was “a menace to world peace” indicating his support for England and France. And if that weren't enough, King Zog (a name reminiscent of someone from Oz, Tretheway thought) and his Queen Geraldine fled Albania ahead of Mussolini's army fanning one more ember in the smouldering fire of European events.

On the escape side, Hollywood plowed ahead with missiles good and bad such as,
Torchy Blane In Panama, Jezebel, Love Finds Andy Hardy, Algiers
(Addie went because of Hedy Lamarr's co-star, Charles Boyer),
Yellow Jack, Damaged Goods
(“the picture that dares to tell
the truth”) and
In Old Chicago
. Addie also joined Tretheway and Jake for
Bluebeard's Eighth Wife
with Claudette Colbert and Gary Cooper, not because of the stars or title, but because it was dish night.

Over a period of two years, Addie had collected close to a service of eight pale yellow china with a central floral motif similar to the one woven into the West End's lobby carpet. The theatre gave them away, piece by piece, every other Wednesday as a bonus for attending. At least once every dish night a plate or saucer got away and rolled down the cement floor between the carpeted aisles and the seats, noisily gaining speed until it shattered climactically against the proscenium arch. The crowd customarily cheered. So did Tretheway and Jake. Addie didn't. She put that type of behaviour in the same class as the public school boys who smuggled plumber's friends into the theatre to disrupt kissing scenes.

At different times Tretheway and Jake were accompanied by Wan Ho
(Charlie Chan at Treasure Island),
Bartholemew Gum, Miles Terminus and once, when
Young Doctor Kildare
was showing, Doc Nooner. The movie that counted, the one that inspired the Fan, though nobody knew it at the time, was screened on Thursday, April 6. Wan Ho joined Tretheway and Jake on that evening.

A steady light rain dogged the trio as they walked to the movie house. Tretheway led the way, protected from the elements by his rubber traffic slicker and wet bowler. Jake and Wan Ho followed, huddled under
Jake's oversized golf umbrella. The first movie started sharp at seven.

An imposing statue of “Victoria Regina Imperatrix” stares haughtily from the screen. An invisible military band plays “God Save The Queen.” The title appears on a huge gong accompanied by spritely Rudyard Kipling music and a deep voice stating dramatically, “The finest man I knew was our regimental bhisti, GUNGA DIN.” Several exciting quick cuts follow: an ugly restless vulture atop a pole/a robed Indian
(Thuggee)
severing telegraph wires with a wicked-looking pick axe/a British patrol on horseback/
Thuggees
digging graves/soldiers attacked by night/fade out.

Then a longer, establishing shot takes form showing the British station at Muri, Northwest India, where the Colonel (Montagu Love) worries aloud in an English public school accent about the telegraph's ominous silence from Trantapur. In seconds, Tretheway, Jake and Wan Ho are transported back into remote late nineteenth-century British India.

Two significant events occurred in April, which should have triggered to Tretheway's mind the possibility of a calamitous third. The first, a break-in and burglary at the Fort York Military Museum, was certainly serious, but not high on the priority list of the FYPD, let alone Tretheway's traffic division. And the second, he didn't hear about until too late. In his defence, all divisions, especially traffic, were busy preparing for the momentous visit of King George VI and Queen
Elizabeth on June 7. Parade routes had to be drawn out, new traffic patterns plotted, duties rescheduled and overall protocol studied, to say nothing of extensive security measures for their Royal British Majesties.

Tretheway had little time to worry about the theft of some old uniforms and dusty, antiquated weapons.

During the War of 1812, a defensive position was hastily constructed on the narrow strip of land that separated Wellington Square Bay from Coote's Paradise to repel four thousand American invaders advancing from Fort Niagara. History records that a British force of seven hundred under General John Vincent marched from this breastwork to meet the Americans halfway and turn them back at the Battle of Stoney Creek; by world standards a skirmish in a small war. But if the tables had been turned, Southern Ontario would now be called something like Very Upper New York.