“What he said was serious and unpleasant,” Lorelei said.
At this moment, Grimm coughed. Stagily. “Ms. Victoria?”
“Yes, Grimm?”
“Don’t I get to say why I did it?”
“Ah, the motive,” Nancy said.
“Come on,” Brett said, “tell us, Grimm. Why did you poison Andrew? Was it because he’s a tattoo on the armpit of life?”
“I poisoned him out of jealousy, Mr. Brett. You see, I am hopelessly in love with Ms. Victoria, and I cannot bear to share her with any other man.”
“I’ll bet that was in the original script, Victoria,” Nancy said.
“It certainly was,” Victoria agreed, and laughed. Everyone joined in.
Except Lorelei.
“Well, excuse me for living,” Lorelei said, “but I don’t think this whole thing is funny at all. I thought Andrew was really dead, and dead or not, I do not like personal and private and painful episodes from my life being used for entertainment.”
“I repeat,” Victoria said, “what Andrew said on the tape was as much a surprise to me as to anyone else. I’m sorry if you’re upset, but there’s not much I can do about it now.”
“Lorelei,” Nancy said, “along with the research you do, sensitivity has always been one of your strongest points as a scriptwriter. Unfortunately, sensitivity doesn’t always smooth one’s way through real life.”
“Don’t you patronize me, Nancy Oliver.”
“I was trying to be nice,” Nancy protested. “Jeez.”
“Oh, get Lorelei a fresh drink, please, Grimm,” Victoria said. “In fact, crack open the Champagne. It’s time we all started our serious celebrating.”
With a nod, Grimm went to the Champagne bucket. As he did so, Brett said, “You don’t have some other joke in store for us, do you, Victoria? Nobody’s going to get kidnapped, are they? No bomb in the bombe surprise?”
“No more games, Brett, I promise.”
“And no more of that disgusting almond cordial, either, I hope,” Nancy said.
“No.”
There was a bang, but it was neither a bomb nor a gun. The cork had flown from the Champagne bottle, injuring no one. Grimm began his rounds at the table, pouring the sparkling liquid into yet more of the special goblets with Brett’s face that had been set out for each guest.
“We’re watching you, Grimm,” Brett said.
“Very wise, sir,” Grimm said as he went to Lorelei’s place. “Ms. Lorelei?”
“Yes, all right. I shouldn’t, but perhaps I shall. I suppose we need to look forward, not back. So, yes, by God, I shall.”
“Very good, Ms.,” Grimm said.
“And perhaps you should pour some for yourself, too, Grimm, and then taste it before we have any.”
“A most excellent suggestion, if I may say so, Ms. Lorelei.” Grimm filled her goblet.
“Thank you, Grimm.”
He continued around the table.
“Thanks, Grimm,” Nancy said.
“I’ve been looking forward to this not just all day, but all my life,” Victoria said. “A prime-time television series. Something very special. A real opportunity.”
“Thank you, Grimm,” Brett said. “It looks great.”
Victoria added, “Use Andrew’s goblet for your Champagne, Grimm. I had intended to invite him back for the meal, but in view of his behavior he can damn well stay in the living room. Naughty boys don’t deserve Champagne. And need I tell you? This is the real stuff. Vintage. French. The whole nine yards.”
Grimm poured for himself. “Ms. Victoria.” He lifted Andrew’s goblet to her. He gestured to the others. “Facilitators of Frankie.”
Victoria lifted her goblet. “And now, may I once again propose a toast? To you all. To us all. Nancy Oliver, director — and creator — of this fine series. Lorelei Penfold, writer of the best damned scripts you’d ever want to see. Brett Kingsley, the perfect embodiment of the classic private eye. And not forgetting myself, the series producer. She who put this whole thing together. I give you Frankie Almond.”
They all lifted their goblets to Frankie Almond.
But before anyone drank Brett interrupted. “Hey, hey. Grimm first.”
“Sir,” Grimm said with a bow. After sniffing the bouquet, he drank. “Most efficacious. Although to be absolutely certain of your collective safety I’d best take some more.”
“Frankie Almond,” was the toast, repeated by them all. They all drank. The Champagne was, indeed, top drawer. There were several sounds of approval.
But not from Nancy. She coughed. “Victoria, I thought you said no more tricks.”
“There are no more—”
But Nancy coughed again. “I think almond champagne counts as a trick.” She coughed again. “And one in very poor taste.”
“Nancy?” Brett said. “Nancy?”
Lorelei said, “Are you all right?”
“No,” Nancy gasped. “No... Not...” And before them all she thrashed about and then tipped her chair over backwards.
There was a silence in the room. It was broken only when Victoria said, “Ah. Ah. I get it. It’s a joke.”
“What?” voices asked.
“Nancy is exacting her revenge. She was taken in by Andrew’s performance, so now we get this. Very funny, Nancy. Very dramatic, which is no more than we’d expect from you. But I hope you haven’t broken the chair, because it cost a fortune and you’ll bloody well pay for it if you have.”
Again there was silence. No one moved. Including Nancy.
“Enough’s enough,” Victoria said. “Come back to life and let’s get dinner started. I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m famished.”
Brett, across from Nancy’s place, stood and said, “Nancy?”
Lorelei, next to her, said, “She’s not moving.”
Victoria said, “Grimm?”
Grimm, who had been standing behind Andrew’s empty chair, crouched down where Nancy lay. He felt for a pulse and then turned to his employer. “It’s no joke, Ms. Victoria. Ms. Nancy is dead.”
“Nancy! Nancy!” Brett cried. He rushed around the table.
“Try mouth-to-mouth, Grimm,” Victoria said.
“I’ll do it,” Brett said and he knelt by Nancy’s body. “Give me some room.”
“That might not be such a good idea, Brett,” Lorelei said. “If hydrogen cyanide gas from her stomach—”
“What does it matter if it saves her life?”
“There’s no point, Mr. Brett,” Grimm said. “Ms. Nancy is gone.”
Brett was distraught. Nancy was the love of his life. He was sure this time. He turned to Victoria. “Is this some twisted joke-on-a-joke gone wrong, Victoria? Something you and Nancy hatched up together?” His tears followed as Victoria’s face made it clear that nothing like this was ever in her plans.
Grimm put his arm around the young actor’s shoulders. “The lady is beyond our help, sir.”
“Oh God! Nancy!” Brett was in despair.
“This is awful,” Victoria said.
“Yes, awful,” Lorelei agreed. She shook her head, visibly moved by events.
“Our series director murdered at a company dinner?” Victoria said. “The scandal will kill Frankie Almond stone dead.”
Lorelei was shocked. “Are you really thinking about a silly television series at a time like this? Are you really so hard?”
“What would be hard,” Victoria said, “is for a wonderful opportunity to be killed just because one of you wanted to settle a petty grievance.”
But Brett was having none of it. “What do you mean, one of us? You’re the one who was jealous of Nancy because I fell out of love with you and in love with her. You are entirely capable of setting this whole thing up as an elaborate cover.”