I thought it’d give me a chance to see how the security boys were shaping up at first light and maybe Butler would have a few more ideas in his head at that time. I agreed to meet him on the street at six. There were three messages waiting for me at home-all prospective clients. I rang two of them and made appointments. I couldn’t see myself spinning out the Death Feast job for six weeks and it seemed smart to take advantage of the sudden easing of my personal recession.
We had the run, and Butler couldn’t resist keeping ahead of me and being more agile over the gutters. Leichhardt woke up around us; dogs yapped, and trucks delivered to shops and the cooking smells in the street suggested better breakfasts than tea and toast. I did a fair bit of panting as Butler showcased: we didn’t talk much. The action started at around eleven when Jardie Butler knocked over a camera and punched a cameraman who swore at her. I moved in fast to break it up, and eased her away from the broken glass and the fuming technician.
‘Easy, easy,’ I said. ‘What’s the matter?’
‘I got another one of those bloody calls! Right here, on the set!’
‘Where’s Kurt?’
‘In the other house, getting made up. I didn’t want him to hear about it until I’d seen you. Then I knocked over the stupid camera.’
‘Same voice?’
‘I think so, yes.’
‘Describe it while it’s fresh-what did he say?’
She shook slightly and I helped her to sit down on the steps of one of the caravans. ‘He said, he said “… I’ll wash your face for you, I’ll wash it right off.” Ugh. it’s a sort of thin, reedy voice, high…’
I got some brandy for her, and then she showed me the phone in the end house where she’d taken the call. One of the daytime security men had called Jardie to the phone but he couldn’t recall anything special about the voice. He scratched his ear under his aggressively cropped hair.
‘Funny thing though, that’s a closed line.’
‘What d’you mean?’ I snapped.
‘You can only get that to ring by using one of the other phones on the set. Why, what’s up?’
Jardie Butler’s hands flew to her face and she covered it like a little girl playing hidey. ‘Jesus!’
‘Who else’d know about the closed line?’
‘I dunno. Other security blokes; the bloke that installed them, and… ah, a couple of the… what d’you call them? Assistants.’
‘Okay, could you do a job for me? Just keep a watch and make a note of anyone who leaves this morning. Don’t stop them-just get the name and the time. Right?’
Like me, he looked glad to be relieved of the boredom and he hurried off. I helped Jardie up and made her finish the brandy.
‘We’ve got to do a quick tour, get to know everyone here. You know most of the names?’
‘Most, not all.’
‘Descriptions or jobs for the rest. Let’s go.’ We prowled the three houses looking in doors and checking in toilets; when we finished we had a list of twenty-two names and eight physical and eleven job descriptions. All the principals were there: Butler, McLeish, Space, Wild and a gaggle of supporting players-there were technicians of various sorts, and other functionaries down to a kid who controlled car movement in the street and a cook. Jardie and I went through the list crossing out names of people who couldn’t have made the call because they were definitely otherwise engaged at the time or because she could see them at the time of the call. Butler, McLeish and a big swag of the technicians went out; I removed myself from the list and the security man who’d told us about the phone. I was about to cross out the wardrobe woman when Jardie stopped me. ‘What’re you doing? Where was she?’ ‘She’s a she-you said it was a man’s voice.’
‘I’m not sure now, it could have been disguised.’
‘Christ, that opens it up.’
‘What d’we do now? I’m impressed so far, by the way.’
‘Thanks.’
She was wearing her tight pants in white today, with a singlet cut low under the arms. She had very nice slim arms with long muscles; it looked as if she exercised as much as Kurt. She moved with a dancer-like graceful confidence and she wouldn’t normally have knocked over a camera. I was convinced that the phone call had been truly unpleasant.
‘The person who made the call wouldn’t have known that it was an internal-calls-only phone. He or she wouldn’t be worried about anything and there’s no reason to think they’d act any different from normal. I guess I’ll just have to check on all the obvious people-the ones who might have a reason to sabotage the film.’
‘That’s no one,’ Jardie muttered. ‘Haven’t you heard how things are in this business? Work’s work.’
‘Someone’s got a reason, unless…’
‘Unless what?’
‘Someone who’s not here who does have a reason hired someone who is here who doesn’t.’
‘Oh, great.’
From the other house Butler’s voice rose in a shout that lifted the dust.
‘I cannot work with that crazy bastard! What is the matter with him?’
It was a red alert to Jardie; she took off, scooting through the gap in the fence like a startled rabbit. I followed sedately and stepped into a madhouse: Butler, McLeish and Space were all shouting at each other simultaneously. Butler looked to be ready to use his fists on someone and McLeish had a bad, high colour with veins throbbing in his forehead. Space had more control and looked to be more excited than angry. Jardie pushed Space aside and he shut up and watched her go to work on Butler. Her technique was a combination of stick and carrot. She whacked him in the ribs to cut his breath and then stroked his arm like a vet with a frightened animal. Her touch seemed to calm him and he touched her in return. Maybe they’d done an advanced course in feelie therapy, because the touching seemed to do them both a lot of good.
McLeish ran out of steam and signalled to one of the young women whose function had never been clear to me. She ducked back and came up with a glass and a bottle of Haig, and that particular doubt was answered. McLeish took a stiff belt as his way of cutting his breath, poured another and sipped.
‘Okay, okay,’ he said quietly. ‘We’ve got a wee problem.’ He nodded to the whisky bearer. ‘Get his agent on the phone, lass, we’ll work it out.’
Space turned over script sheets rapidly. ‘Guess I could change the lines, even write him out if need be.’
McLeish drained his glass in a one jerky swallow. ‘Christ man, you’ll be giving us a new bloody film the way you’re going. You’ve got first feature jitters-relax. The sensible people’ll work it out, I tell you. Take a break, everybody.’
‘We know what that means for you,’ Jardie snarled.
‘Don’t push me, girlie. You’ll get your cans full of the sort of shit you want, don’t you worry.’
He wandered off after the Haig bottle and I watched Butler pull on a sweatshirt over the T-shirt he’d been wearing for the scene. He seemed to approach his acting like an athletic event.
‘What happened?’ I asked.
‘Wildy blew up.’ Butler said. ‘He’s been acting crazy for days, from rehearsals on. I don’t know what the hell’s the matter with him. Now he’s pissed off somewhere and this scene is shot to bits.’
‘Take it easy,’ Jardie said. ‘Have some coffee, have a rest; Hardy and I’ll go and get him.’
‘I don’t want you going around unprotected,’ Butler said. ‘Not after the threats.’
‘What threats?’ Space asked.
‘Never mind, Bob. I am protected, you dummy.’ Jardie stroked her husband’s arm and gripped the bicep. ‘I’ve got the guy we hired.’
‘I thought you were some kind of technical consultant,’ Space said. ‘That’s what Richard told me.’
‘That’s Richard’s job. Go back to cutting scenes, Bob. Have a rest, hon. Let’s go, Hardy.’
We went through the house and out to the street; the security man I’d assigned to plot the comings and goings rushed up.