How to Murder a Movie II
The King and I
I show him the piece of paper. “Have you seen this before?”
“No, what is it?”
“The script.”
“Oh, I didn’t know that. I was never interested in the script.”
“A movie has been killed. Do you have any idea who it could have been?”
“Who the murderer is?” He laughs. “No, how should I know?”
What was your role in this movie?“
”I’m the producer and director. Can you imagine what a responsibility that is?“
”No,“ I say, ”I can’t.”
“There you go,” he replies with a satisfied smile and dramatically sinks back into the sofa cushions. “I have to take care of everything. I’m responsible for everything. I make the decisions. I plan everything. I coordinate everything, I…”
“I… am the murderer,” I suggest.
He looks at me with wounded pride. “Of course not. I can’t take care of everything. Murder? Do you know what that means? Motive, planning, execution, hiding evidence. What else am I supposed to do? Who’s going to pay for all that? No, no. Murder, that’s not my responsibility. And before you ask, no, we haven’t hired anyone for that either.”
“I’m just surprised that you’ve listed everything necessary for the murder so precisely. It seems suspicious to me. As if you’ve been thinking about it for a long time.”
“Of course I have. I’ve been working on the perfect murder for months. A murder that no detective can solve. The perfect murder!”
I look at him with surprise. “Is that a confession?” I ask.
“It’s a movie. MY movie, shot last year in New York. ”The Double Witness.” You may remember it. We won two Oscars. For both leading actors. After the awards ceremony, we sold twice as many tickets. We’re already working on a sequel, two films, for double the budget.“
”Of course I’ve seen the film. Twice, in fact. Together with my brother. My brother’s in the Navy,“ I say with a smile. “Sensational. Wonderful. Perfect.”
In truth, I haven’t seen the film, but I know Hollywood. Praise is part of the business here.
“Last question: Who do you think is the prime suspect?”
“Not me, anyway. A king doesn’t murder. But you should talk to Walter.”
“Who’s Walter?”
“The man with the two golden revolvers.”
“Revolvers? I didn’t notice that.”
“What are you going to do now?”
“I think I’ll question the woman with the diamonds. To keep up the suspense.”
The king shakes my hand. “It was nice to meet you. If you like, I’ll send you tickets to the next premiere. Two tickets.”
“Thank you, Mr. King,” I say and take a bow. Twice.
“Oh yes, I wanted to ask you something: Why are you wearing that crown?”
“Crown? What crown?”
Surprised, he takes off his golden crown. “Oh, there you are!” he says and begins to lovingly clean the crown.
Then he looks at me again. “This crown means nothing to me. It’s just a souvenir, a gift from a friend.”
Then, with a reverent expression, he puts his golden crown back on.
Diamonds are my best friends
“Are you Lady Jessica?” I ask.
“That’s right, Inspector. I admit it. How clever of you. You found me. Is it my turn now? Would you like to question me? Do you think I’m capable of murder?“
Her world-famous laugh rings out like a bell, albeit somewhat forced.
”Believe me, if I were to kill anyone, it would only be my ex-husband.”
“Which of your ex-husbands?” I ask her.
She thinks hard.
“Which one? Hmm, I think the last one, or no… best all of them. Just kidding, Inspector. Believe me, I couldn’t hurt a fly. Unless it sat on my nose.”
I don’t respond to her joke and show her the evidence.
“Have you seen this before?”
“No, what is it?”
“The script.”
“Oh, how nice. I didn’t know we had a script.“
A pause. I say nothing, just look at her. She fiddles nervously with her necklace, which is set with large red diamonds.
”I can prove my innocence, Inspector. Dorothea!“ she calls, ”bring me my appointment book.”
A few seconds later, her assistant Dorothea appears.
“What would you like, madam?”
“My appointment book.”
“Right away, madam.”
Dorothea runs out of the room. Another assistant appears.
“Your new jewelry has arrived, madam,” she says, placing several small boxes on the table in front of Lady Jessica.
“Not now, Margret,” Lady Jessica dismisses her. “Go and find Dorothea, I’ve been waiting for her for 10 seconds. And tell the delivery man that the new packages belong in the wardrobe. He should put them with the others. If there’s no more room, then in the living room. He should put the large packages directly in the garage. The new car won’t arrive until this afternoon, so there will be room until then.“
”Of course, Madame. I’ll take care of everything.“
Lady Jessica looks at me desperately. ”Oh yes, these young girls, they try hard, but…“
I interrupt her. ”You seem to be buying a lot?” I ask her.
“Just a few things. Nothing worth mentioning. Jewelry, dresses, diamonds, refrigerators, two or three butlers, cars, a helicopter.”
“May I ask what your role is in film production?”
“Of course. I’m in charge of the budget.”
Dorothea appears with the appointment book.
“Finally,” says Lady Jessica, “here you are, Inspector. Take a look at my appointment book. A divorce, a wedding, a honeymoon, then a trip to Europe and back to Hollywood. I’m sorry to disappoint you, but I simply don’t have time for murder. Besides, I don’t like to get my hands dirty.”
A parcel delivery man enters the room with a stack of parcels.
“Not here!” she hisses at him and shooes him into the next room.
“If I may give you a hint, Inspector,” she says, “relax. You’re spoiling your good mood by always thinking about murder. Buy yourself something nice, it will distract you. Shopping makes you happy.“
”Does that always work for you?“ I ask.
”Always!“ she beams at me, the diamonds on her necklace sparkling.
”No further questions,” I say.
The invisible man
Kovalsksi gives me a sign from the side.
“Oh, Kovalsksi, I didn’t know you had two scenes in this episode. What’s going on?“
Kovalsksi looks into the camera and says, ”I took a closer look at the production company’s documents. We overlooked another suspect. Everyone from the production team is here today, except for him.“
”That is suspicious,“ I reply, ”what is this man responsible for?”
“Marketing,” Kovalsksi replies. “No one from production has seen him in weeks. They call him the invisible man.”
“The invisible man?” I say. “Not bad, that almost sounds like a movie title. Kovalsksi, I’m counting on you. Find this man. Right away! In the meantime, I’ll continue with the other interrogations.”
The Silent Witness
A new suspect has taken a seat in front of me. A well-dressed man in his prime. He looks at me questioningly.
I show him the note. “Have you seen this before?”
The man is startled by my question. He raises his right hand to his mouth and mutters something incomprehensible.
“Can you repeat that?”
The same muttering.
“Can you speak louder?”
“Of course,” he whispered, “you see, it’s — gladly — there — always — so — different.”
“I’m sorry, I didn’t understand you.”
“I’m sorry,” he whispered again.
“Are you okay?” I whisper back. “Do you have a cold?”
“Excuse me?”
“A cold. A COLD!” I repeat loudly.
“Oh, no, I’m afraid I don’t hear so well anymore. My ears, you understand.”
“I understand.”
“Excuse me?”
“I UNDERSTAND!” I yell.
“That’s good, because — how — gladly — front door lock — too warm,” he whispers back.
Suddenly, the room is filled with a loud howling noise. A mixture of church bells, alarm sirens, and hysterically screeching monkeys.
“Oh, I think that’s my cell phone. A call.”
“Later,” I say, “let’s talk about the script first.”
“I have nothing to do with that. That’s not my department.”
“Listen, your movie has been murdered. Do you have any idea who could have done it?”
He mumbles something.
“I see,” I say, depressed.
“Who are you again, exactly?” he whispers.
“Inspector Garrett, Movie Murder Department.”
“Has something happened?”
“Yes, someone killed your film.”
“Kilt? I don’t wear a kilt. Haven’t for years. You see, my legs aren’t what they used to be.”
“I’m sorry to hear that,” I reply.
He nods at me.
Then he says something incomprehensible. I can’t understand him.
“What are you actually responsible for in this film?” I ask him.
“Film. Yes, exactly. Sound and music. That’s my specialty.”
“Who do you think committed the murder? Who do you think is suspicious?”
“Can you speak a little louder, I didn’t understand you.”
I mumble something incomprehensible.
“Right,” he says, “that’s a good idea. Walter, the man with the two golden revolvers. You should talk to him. Maybe he knows something.”
“Thanks,” I say, “I’ll do that.”
“I can assure you, Inspector, if I hear anything new, I’ll let you know right away.”
“That will certainly help me,” I say.
“And cut,” says my cameraman.
“Excuse me?” I ask him.
“Cut. CUT!” he shouts.
“Oh, I see.”
One film cut later, the next suspect is sitting in front of me. Walter.
