Hannah from the wardrobe department came over and apologized for interrupting. ‘I’ve got five minutes to get you into the outfit for scene 76,’ she said to Carolyn. ‘And the zips are a bugger.’
It was eleven o’clock before Carolyn had some time to herself. Harrington was set to film a scene with Seb and Andrea and she wouldn’t be needed for a couple of hours. She dropped her bag and coat in her dressing room then walked along the corridor to Paul Day’s office. The producer’s office was the farthest away from the sets with a window overlooking the car park. His assistant, Laura, a pretty blonde in her twenties, was sitting at the outer office. ‘Can I have a few minutes with him?’ she asked.
‘He’s a bit grumpy today, too much wine last night, I think,’ said Laura. ‘So no loud noises or sudden moves.’
Carolyn laughed. ‘I’ll be gentle with him,’ she said.
She knocked softly on the door to Day’s office and pushed it open.
Day stood up when he saw her. ‘Come in, darling,’ he said. ‘I was planning on swinging by the set. How’s it going?’
‘All good,’ said Carolyn.
Day was wearing one of his Savile Row, made-to-measure suits but he’d lost weight recently and the jacket hung loosely as he stood up and walked around his desk to greet her. He hugged her and air-kissed her dramatically. ‘And well done again on the award. It’s not every day you get a lifetime achievement award, is it?’
‘A lifetime achievement award? I’m only forty.’ Day lowered his chin gave her an admonishing look. ‘Okay, forty-four,’ she said. ‘But that’s hardly a lifetime, is it?’
‘Was back in the Middle Ages,’ he said. ‘You’d have been riddled by syphilis and the lurgy by now.’ He released his grip on her and went back to his chair. ‘And how’s the new girl getting on? What’s her name? Jaymee?’
‘A bit nervous, but who isn’t on their first day?’
‘She doesn’t have much experience, but she seems keen.’
‘You did hire her, didn’t you?’
Day pulled a face as if he had a bad taste in his mouth. ‘The network sent her, if you must know. Sally had seen her in some commercial and decided she’d be great for the show. Between you and me I think it’s about tinkering with the ethnic profile of the show, but she’s a pretty girl and, like I said, she seems keen.’ He sighed. ‘Anyway, how’s life?’
‘Bit of a curate’s egg,’ she said, sitting down opposite him. ‘Look, I need to know what’s going on, Paul.’
‘In what way, darling?’
‘Am I being written out of the show?’
Day’s jaw dropped. ‘Are you what?’
‘It’s a simple enough question, Paul. Do I have a future on the show or not?’
Day looked stunned but Carolyn recognised bad acting when she saw it. ‘What’s put that idea in your head?’ he asked.
‘Waites for one.’
‘That prick? He’s a nobody, Carolyn.’
‘He works for the network. And he’s got the ear of Sally and Lisa.’
‘He’s their bitch, that’s what he is. He doesn’t make the decisions.’
‘No, but he’s there when the decisions are taken. And he as good as told me I was on the way out.’
‘Well he’s talking through his arse.’
‘Then what’s the writers’ meeting next week? What’s that about?’
Day’s smile hardened a little. ‘It’s a regular get together of the writers to talk through the storylines.’
‘And Sally and Lisa will be there?’
‘The network always sits in on the meetings. They sit in on the read-throughs, too. There’s nothing sinister about it.’
Carolyn nodded slowly. She was sure he was lying, but she knew there was no point in pushing him. As Harrington had said to her, the power was gradually being taken away from Day, and even though he was credited as being the producer, most of the actual producing was done by the network executives. But that didn’t explain why he wasn’t being honest with her.
‘Darling, is there something wrong?’ asked Day.
‘I’m just feeling a bit insecure,’ said Carolyn. ‘I don’t want to pick up a script and find I’ve contracted a terminal illness or crashed my car into a canal.’
Day put his hand over his heart. ‘I swear to God that’s not going to happen,’ he said. ‘I wouldn’t allow it. I really wouldn’t. You’re the backbone of this show, Carolyn. You’ve been with it from the start and the viewers wouldn’t stand for anything happening to you.’
‘That makes me feel better.’ It did, a little, but there was still something wrong, something that he wasn’t telling her. ‘I’m just being silly.’
‘You are. But you’re a star, you’re allowed.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Darling, I hate to cut and run but I’ve got some rushes to look at and then I’ve got a lunch at Grouchos.’
‘No problem,’ said Carolyn.
He stood up and held out his arms. Carolyn got up and he wrapped his arms around her. Carolyn closed her eyes and let him hug her. Day had the knack of making people feel safe and loved and his physical presence alone was reassuring. He kissed her on the top of her head the way her father used to do when she was a child and she smiled despite herself and hugged him back.
Carolyn left Day’s office and went to see Terry. He was in his office tinkering with a spreadsheet on one of his computers. He looked up and smiled. ‘Okay, darling?’
‘Nose to the grindstone,’ she said. ‘Did you call the office? Cohen and Kawczynski?’
Terry pushed his keyboard to the side. ‘Yeah. Nicholas Cohen hasn’t come into the office today and they don’t know when he’ll be in.’
‘So the chances are it was Cohen I saw getting hit?’
‘If he doesn’t turn up for work in the next couple of days, I’d say that’s probably right. Carolyn, I think now’s the time you went to the police.’
Carolyn shook her head. ‘No can do, Terry. I’m not having my face plastered all over the papers as a witness to a killing.’
‘But that’s what you are, darling. And unless you say something, a man’s going to get away with murder.’
‘Not necessarily,’ said Carolyn. ‘Look, if this Nicholas Cohen is dead, eventually the police will be called. They’ll realise something has happened to him and when they do they’ll go looking for his enemies. That’s what detectives do. They detect.’
‘That’s what TV cops do. In the real world detectives spend most of their time filling out forms.’
‘How do you know that?’
‘I went out with a cop once.’ Terry grinned. ‘Well more than once, as it happens. We had a thing for a couple of months.’
‘No doubt it was the handcuffs you found attractive. Or was it his truncheon?’
‘Darling, they don’t have truncheons any more. They have batons. But my point is, it’s not like Morse or Frost or Silent Witness. There’s no guarantee they’ll find the killer. But you can give them a description and that’ll speed things up if nothing else.’
‘A description of what? A good-looking man in his forties with dark hair?’
‘You didn’t say he was good-looking.’
‘Well he was. But that doesn’t mean I can give them a detailed description. My memory doesn’t work like that. I can memorise dialogue until the cows come home but I’m terrible with faces.’
‘At least you could give them something to go on. And you saw two cars, right? The Merc and the Bentley.’
‘They could have been Cohen’s cars.’
‘Maybe. But they weren’t there on Saturday when we went to the house. Which means somebody drove them away. And assuming Nicholas Cohen was taken out wrapped in a rug, it wasn’t him.’
Carolyn shuddered. ‘I can’t go to the police, Terry. They’ll tell the press and I really couldn’t cope with that. And, like I said before, once it’s leaked, the killer will know who I am but I won’t know who he is.’ She sighed. ‘And there’s another problem. A biggie.’