Really Dead

  “Yes. We had to change everything around because of Chris’ … I mean, Mr. Regent’s delay. You were supposed to be eating there, with the sun setting in the background.” He pointed to the floating table. “The big dinner party scene, with the leads and senior production staff for the movie. And you, of course.” He sounded disappointed.

  I wasn’t disappointed at all! Nobody had told me I’d been invited to a dinner that was going to be part of a television show. If they had, I wouldn’t have come — and not just because I didn’t have anything that even came close to matching the apparent dress code of the evening. Hanging out with the crew I would have done gladly. I looked like one of them. I felt like one of them, too. I would have much preferred to jitterbug or jive with them than dine with Dan.

  The drummers started tapping out the opening to Tommy Dorsey’s “Song of India” and I gave one last longing glance to the happy people I was about leave behind.

  “Did you hear that we lost Louise Flavelle today?” Ted’s question only hammered home the point that I was probably about to eat with some of the people I’d heard crying earlier.

  “Ariel and I were talking about it on the way over.”

  Ted held one of the doors open for me. “Doesn’t Ariel look lovely tonight? She embodies everything about the word star. And she’s nothing like I expected.”

  “You mean the whole Greta Garbo ‘I vant to be alone thing’?”

  “Miss Garbo didn’t actually say that, you know. What she said was ‘I want to be left alone.’”

  “And there’s a big difference,” I repeated the line Ariel had used.

  There was no difference to the scowl on James’ face. He was sitting with Mandy at a chef’s table in the kitchen, nursing yet another scotch. Mandy’s dress was so tight and low cut that she looked as if she should have been nursing (twins).

  Dan and Ariel were standing by one of the long stainless counters, looking down at the skinned carcasses of five small birds.

  “Finally!” Dan didn’t sound happy to see me. “Now we can get down to business.” He then proceeded to tie a big white apron around and over Ariel’s exposed bits. “I think you’re going to enjoy this. Did you know that I started off in the business with a cooking show?” Dan tied his own apron on and picked up a huge cleaver while I went over to the table and sat on the non-Mandy side of James.

  Ted stood still for a few minutes, as if waiting for orders, and then backed out through the swinging doors.

  I was so looking forward to a nice cozy evening, just the five of us. There were several Butler uniformed kitchen staff working farther down the line from Dan and Ariel, and I seriously wondered if I could get away with going down there to hang out with them. A waiter lifted a loaded large tray up onto his shoulders and pushed his way through the swinging doors to the patio. I wanted to scream “Take me with you!”

  James nodded at me. “Hey.”

  “Hey.”

  “Shush! I want to hear what he’s saying.” Mandy pointed at Dan.

  Our warm friendly sibling greeting had irritated her.

  “… so I thought I’d let you get some payback. You just hold the leg out like this and then,” Dan brought the cleaver down with a whack, “you chop it off.” He held the tiny leg up for all to see.

  “What kind of birds are they?” Ariel, too, now held a cleaver.

  Dan’s smile gave me the creeps. “Squab.”

  Dan gave me the creeps. What kind of sick joke was he trying to play on Ariel? “Um, Ariel? Do you know what squab is?”

  “No.”

  I was glad to be sitting so far away from her. She still held the cleaver and I didn’t want to be near it when she heard my answer. “Squab is a fancy name for pigeon.”

  Ariel slowly looked from me to Dan, then down at the dead bird in front of her. She gripped the cleaver with both hands, raised it high above her head and brought it down hard on the spine of the corpse, splitting the bird carcass in two. “Take that, you motherfucker!” I didn’t know what kind of workout she did, but whatever she lifted it was working. Her delicate arms hid some powerful guns.

  “I knew you’d enjoy it. Do you want to do the rest of them?”

  Ariel gently rested her cleaver on the stainless counter, dusted her hands off as if they’d been covered in flour (not splattered bits of dead bird), and started to untie her apron. “No, thanks. But that was fun.”

  She joined us as the table while Dan gave a monologue as he mutilated the remaining fowl corpses.

  “So, as I was saying, I started off with a cooking show on CJOH in Ottawa. Graham Kerr did his show there, too, but he’s much older than I am.”

  “You mean The Galloping Gourmet?” From the look on Dan’s face I knew I wouldn’t make the mistake of speaking again.

  “He was like the first TV chef, right? Kind of like the Gordon Ramsey of the seventies?” Mandy made the same mistake as I had, but she went on to make it worse than I had. “My grandma loved him.”

  “I was the first TV chef!” he bellowed. “Kerr started after me and I’ve never been second to anyone.” His cleaver hit the next bird with such force that its split legless body flew off the counter. “A lot of us got our first really big break on the CBC,” he said more calmly.

  “What’s the CBC?” Ariel, the American in our midst, asked.

  “Canadian Broadcasting Corporation, the biggest network in the country at the time. Lorne Green, Ben Cartwright on Bonanza, started out with CBC Radio. Alex Trebek, whose real name is George by the way, started out doing news and sportscasting.” Dan laughed. “One of Bill Shatner’s first TV gigs was as Ranger Bob in the Canadian version of The Howdy Doody Show.”

  “I didn’t know any of that.” Ariel crossed her legs, letting the slit in the front of her dress open up to show the world ninety-nine percent of the surface area of her left leg.

  “That’s nothing. A lot of current big names in LA are Canadian.”

  “Who else?” Was Ariel really as captivated by Dan’s dissertation on Canadians who’d made a name for themselves south of the forty-ninth parallel as she was acting? It sure felt like an act to me.

  “Jim Carrey, Michael J. Fox, Ryan Reynolds and Ryan Gosling, to name a few. Even America’s first Sweetheart, Mary Pickford, was Canadian.” Dan tossed the now desecrated birds into pans of heated oil. The birds sizzled. “And we’re not just in front of the cameras. Doug Sellars was in charge at Fox Sports …”

  “I worked with Doug, back in my Hockey Night in Canada days. He was a rarity in this business, one of the kindest, most truly decent guys you could ever meet.”

  Apparently Dan didn’t care, because he just glared at James and kept right on talking. “… Arthur Smith produces Hell’s Kitchen and Kitchen Nightmares …”

  “You Canadians sure like your cooking.” Ariel was allowed to interrupt Dan’s soliloquy without having to suffer an angry glare.

  “… and we’ve even had one of ours serve as president of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts and Sciences, Arthur Hiller.”

  No wonder James so desperately wanted to break into the U.S. market. Dan wasn’t mentioning any Canadians who’d done well for themselves at home.

  “I met Arthur at the Governor’s Ball a few years ago. I think you were there that night, too. You and Reese were …”

  I had nothing to add to Ariel and Dan’s conversation and wanted nothing from it. James and Mandy weren’t included either. Mandy tried to join their conversation a couple of times, but they never let her in. James drank. I tried to count the number of threads in the linen tablecloth. The only good part of the evening was the food. Dan was an excellent cook.

  I faked a yawn. “Well, it’s been a long day and I’m really tired …”

  My dinner companions all suddenly felt the same exhaustion (or desperate need to be anywhere else) and we were soon standing out on the pool patio, making polite thanks-for-the-lovely-meal conversation, when Judy burst through the double doors from the lobby of the hote
l and headed straight for Dan and James.

  “Mr. Butler? Mr. Shykoff? Might I have a word with both of you?” Her suit was wrinkled and some sort of yellowy-green liquid had been spilled down her white skirt long enough ago to have dried to a crisp that crackled when she walked.

  “Oh, good! You’re back. How’s our boy doing?” Dan looked around Judy to see if anyone else was coming out of the hotel.

  I looked, too, but didn’t see Rob.

  “That’s what I want to talk to you about,” Judy said through clenched teeth.

  “Problem?” James asked.

  “I agreed to come on this show with the understanding that it was a legitimate application process. Mrs. Whitecross herself assured me that she was seriously looking for the right candidate to manage this, her newest hotel.” Judy took a deep breath. “I, at no time, signed up to be one of the acts in a circus, however!”

  Dan leaned over and spoke closely into James’ ear. “Why aren’t there cameras on this?”

  James shrugged his shoulders.

  “Because I told them to stay away. And, just in case you’ve got cameras hiding out here, I took the liberty of disconnecting this.” She reached into her pocket and pulled out an electronic looking pack that was about the size of a deck of cards. Dangling from it was a thin wire that had a small microphone at the end of it. “I’m not a performer! I’m a professional in the hospitality and tourism industry and from here on in I expect to be treated as such. No job is worth what I just went through.”

  “If Chris gave you a hard time I apologize on behalf of my entire production,” Dan’s voice was as smooth as room temperature butter. “I give you my word that he’ll smarten up and sober up for the remainder of the shoot.”

  “I’m sorry, Judy.” James sounded more sincere than Dan. “But, really, you should know how hard it can be to deal with difficult guests. It’s part of the job. I bet you’ve dealt with …”

  Judy began to noticeably shake. “I have never!” She was starting to screech. “Ever! Had a guest shove his tongue down my throat, right after he’d deposited the entire contents of his stomach on my lap!”

  Dan’s well-cooked dinner didn’t feel so good in my stomach anymore.

  “I want your assurances, in writing, that not one second of that ever gets broadcast! Anywhere!”

  “I’ll get Winnie to write something up first thing tomorrow morning and we’ll both sign it, right James?”

  “Absolutely,” James nodded.

  “The bitch hit me! The fucking bitch hit me!” The infamous Chris Regent sauntered through the doors from the hotel, closely followed by Rob and the rest of his crew. Chris’ Hawaiian shirt looked like it had been torn open. His low-rise board shorts had slid down to X-rated depths.

  It wasn’t until Chris was standing right in front of us that his rapidly darkening black eye became visible.

  “She touched the face, Dan! Fire her! I don’t want her on my set!”

  “I’ll take that,” Bear’s voice suddenly came from right beside me. He held his hand out to take the microphone pack from Judy. “We’ll hook you up with a new one tomorrow.”

  Chris’ jaw dropped and he stared at Bear in shock. “Midgets?” I detected a hint of an Irish accent in Chris’ voice. “They’re filming midgets?”

  “Listen, jackass, you’re not in Bruges, and you’re no Colin Farrell.” Dan went over and stood face to face with Chris. “Go to bed. I’ll deal with you tomorrow.”

  “But the night is young, Danny.” Chris smiled his world famous smile and then began to sing, off-key, with a bad fake Irish accent. “Oh, Danny boy!”

  “Security!” Dan bellowed, this time without a bullhorn, but his non-amplified blast was just as effective.

  Two large Butler-uniformed men came running out from the kitchen. “Miss Winnie said you needed us?”

  “Would you please escort Mr. Regent to his villa? And make sure he stays there, inside, all night.”

  Chris sang himself out as the security guards carried him into the hotel. Winnie held the doors open for them.

  A second camera crew had scampered into position to capture Chris’ involuntary trip to his villa, leaving Rob and his crew behind. They shut their equipment off and I heard Rob sigh heavily as he lifted the camera off his shoulder.

  Winnie joined us on the pool patio. She was carrying a Butler bathrobe which she draped over Judy’s shoulders. “Here, let’s get you inside and cleaned up. I’ve already told housekeeping to have a new uniform sent to your room.”

  Judy followed Winnie obediently.

  “Mike’s in my office, Dan” Winnie said over her shoulder. “I told him you needed to speak to him about his client.”

  “Do I have to do that tonight?” Dan asked.

  “Yes.” Winnie let the doors swing closed behind her.

  “Can it wait?” Ariel asked. “I need to talk to you, in private.”

  “Anything for my leading lady,” Dan slid his arm around Ariel’s slender shoulders. “Bear, make dubs of the discs from the cameras that shot the fiasco on the boat. I’ll give them to Judy to keep her happy. Give Winnie the originals. James, how are we going to handle reshooting Chris’ grand arrival? We should get Malvin to —”

  “He’s booked tomorrow, Albert’s coming in. I’ll see what I can do about juggling the schedule to bring him in on the helicopter.” James turned to Mandy. “What time are you meeting Albert?”

  “I can’t go get Albert. I’m going to be in hair and makeup all afternoon.”

  “No, you’re going to be picking up Albert.” The take-charge tone in James’ voice surprised me.

  “But I can’t!” Mandy’s whine reminded me of nails on a chalkboard.

  “I’ll let you two sort this out amongst yourselves. Come along, Ariel. Goodnight children,” Dan called over his shoulder as he and Ariel went into the hotel.

  “I’m not going for Albert, Jamie. You and Dan were the ones who decided to change the dress code for the dinner to vintage thirties. I’ve got a one o’clock booking for my final fitting and right after that I’m going to hair and makeup.”

  “Change your appointments.” James said firmly.

  “That’s not fair!” Mandy stomped her foot hard enough to send very noticeable shock waves wobbling through her silicone implants. “You promised me air time, Jamie!”

  I decided to let the children, as Dan had so accurately called them, sort it out amongst themselves. I didn’t want to go back to my villa to sit around conversing with a reptile, but I wasn’t sure if I was brave enough to just invite myself to join the small party of production people who were still on the patio. Rob looked like he was about to join them.

  They’d pulled ten chairs around one circular table. The band had gone for the night. Standing a few feet away from the table, Rob was talking to Pam. He handed her a small package that she apparently liked very much. She liked it so much that she threw her arms around his neck and gave him a great big kiss.

  Right, then. Back to my villa it would be. Maybe there’d be a message from Glenn?

  I lifted my foot to take a step, but gently put it down in the same place it had been when I overheard what the crew members were talking about.

  “… I’m telling you, dude, it was a straight out of a Law and Order episode, season four, episode fifteen or sixteen, I can’t remember exactly which one,” the sound man from Rob’s crew said. “They found a woman murdered and her foot was missing.”

  “Episode sixteen, ‘Tortured.’” Bear added more detail. “I remember, because they made a technical goof. The medical examiner says something about the nine metacarpal bones in the wrist. She should have said there were eight carpal bones. The metacarpals are in the palm, not the wrist, and there are only five of them.”

  “You’re both wrong,” Esther, the girl from Rob’s crew, had sat down beside Bear. “Law and Order, season seven, episode fifteen, part of the ‘Risky Business’ trilogy — the head of a major studio is found with her head
, hands, and feet cut off. There’s the television tie in.”

  “Yeah, but our victim was only missing a foot.” Rob took one of the two empty chairs.

  Pam took the other one.

  I hid behind a potted palm.

  “Kate isn’t our victim! She isn’t anybody’s victim. She left because she couldn’t hack Dan, and can you blame her?” I couldn’t see who’d spoken and I didn’t recognize the voice.

  “Face it, the foot was a fake, one of Dan’s stunts. I’m out of here. I’ve got an early call.”

  “Yeah, me too.”

  Chairs scraped against the flagstones. A chorus of Walton-esque goodnights went round the table.

  The party was breaking up. I watched several people going through the doors to the hotel lobby, but I didn’t see Rob, Bear, Esther, or Pam leave. What I didn’t expect to see (and wasn’t pleased to see) was Mandy coming back onto the pool deck. Even worse, she saw me.

  “There you are!” she so loudly that Rob and his friends couldn’t have missed it. “I need to ask you a huge favour!”

  I wanted her to do me a favour, too — go away. “What?” I walked out from behind the potted palm as nonchalantly as I could.

  “Can you pick up Albert for me tomorrow? All you’d have to do is meet him at the airport, drive him to the marina, and then leave his bag at our place. That’s it. Will you do it? Please? Jamie won’t let me ask anyone else to do it.”

  “Does he know you’re asking me?”

  “Well … no, but you’re family. Why would he mind you doing it?”

  I could think of many reasons why James wouldn’t want me to do it — the primary one being that he knew how nosey I was, especially when it came to my family. Unwittingly, because she didn’t have many wits, Mandy had done me a huge favour — she’d given me the perfect opportunity to find out what Albert was bringing to James. “Okay.”

  “Really?”

  Why did she have to squeal like that? “Really. When should I…?”

  “They’re scrambling to reschedule tomorrow because of Chris’ screwed up arrival scene. The call time hasn’t been set yet, so I’m not sure when Malvin and the boat will be ready to go. I think Albert’s flight gets in around five. You can leave his bag under the couch by the printer. You know, sort of out of sight. Jamie wouldn’t want anyone snooping through it, for obvious reasons.” She winked sloppily, as if implying that I already knew what would be in the bag. “I’ll leave the keys with Malvin. Thanks!” She blew me an air kiss and jiggled her way through the doors and into the lobby.