The Cinderella Killer Read online

  ‘Hm. I’m not sure playing hardball suits you, Charles.’

  This observation so closely matched Charles’s own feelings that he almost dropped his pretence and owned up, but good sense prevailed and he just said nothing.

  ‘OK,’ said Lefty after what felt like a long time. ‘I’ll even with you, Charles. And one of the reasons that I’ll even with you is that I won’t be telling you anything I haven’t already told Detective Inspector Malik.’

  ‘Really?’

  ‘I had a long session with her yesterday afternoon – well, afternoon into evening. That’s why I didn’t reply straight away when I got your message. Malik had already got so much information that there was no point in denying it. I just added a few details for her.’

  ‘Details about Kenny Polizzi and Jasmine del Rio in her Marybeth Docker persona?’

  ‘Yup.’

  ‘And details about you getting cocaine for Kenny?’

  ‘I’m glad to say that subject didn’t come up. Malik knew nothing about it … well, she knew he’d taken cocaine – the medical examination of the body had revealed that – but she had no idea where it had come from. A state of ignorance, Charles, in which I would like her to remain.’

  ‘OK, I’ll keep quiet about that.’

  ‘Thank you.’ There was a weary sigh from the other end of the line. ‘OK, listen up, Charles. This is what I told Malik. Kenny Polizzi did meet Marybeth Docker when she was out in LA. He never knew that she had another name – nor did he know that she was only fourteen years old. If he’d known that, there was no way he would have screwed her. But he did and … well, it was a sensitive time for him out there. They were just doing the final casting rounds for the show that turned out to be The Dwight House. Kenny kept getting called back by the producers and then called back again. At that time, had Marybeth Docker gone public – as she threatened to do – that he’d been humping a fourteen-year-old … well, it would have been goodbye Dwight House – probably goodbye career. So he sent me to negotiate a settlement.’

  ‘The kind of thing that you’d done before?’

  ‘Yes, and the kind of thing I would have to do again, more than once in Kenny’s career. Anyway, Marybeth was a tough negotiator.’ There was a degree of respect in his voice. ‘Eventually we settled on twenty-five thousand dollars. Nearly cleaned Kenny out at the time, because of course the Dwight House monies hadn’t started coming in yet. But, anyway, that settled it. Marybeth took the money and I believe went back to England with it soon after. Kenny and I never heard anything else from her … until suddenly he tells me that she’s actually in this Cinderella company – except that now she’s called Jasmine del Rio.’

  ‘Was he worried when he found that out?’

  ‘He sure was. It made him feel very jumpy. He was worried because he didn’t know what she was going to do next.’

  ‘Ask for more money for her continuing silence, I would think.’

  ‘She might have done that, Charles. And that wouldn’t have been a problem. We could always have found more money.’

  ‘He was complaining to me that he hadn’t got any money.’

  ‘These things are relative. Sure, Kenny was about as good with money as a grizzly bear is with ballroom dancing, but we could always find some. I got accounts in his name he don’t even know about. But, anyway, Kenny was afraid it wasn’t money this Jasmine was after.’

  ‘What was it, then?’

  ‘He was afraid of her naming and shaming him. Kiss and tell memoir in a Sunday paper. “Kenny Polizzi slept with under-age dancer” – not the kind of headline that’d do a lot for his image. It seems that some of these girls nowadays – I don’t know if it’s feminism or what, but they seem to take pride in exposing things that should have been forgotten a long time ago. What’s that expression they use – “historical sex crimes”?’

  ‘Yes, we’ve had quite a lot of publicity about that stuff over here recently.’

  ‘In the States too. So Kenny was really scared.’

  ‘And was it an encounter with Jasmine that made him start drinking on the Friday night?’

  ‘First thing was a text from her, wanting to meet and threatening all kinds of nasty publicity if he didn’t agree. They did meet, in her car, and she made pretty clear what kind of pay-off she wanted from him. And she fixed that they should meet again later that evening. Under the pier … which was kind of a weird place to choose. It was the prospect of that second encounter that got him back on the booze.’

  ‘But when we were drinking together early that evening – which must have been after their first meeting – he seemed quite cheerful.’

  Lefty didn’t see any inconsistency. ‘Kenny was a man of volatile moods, particularly when he’d got some vodka inside him.’

  ‘So after you’d got Vinnie McCree to deliver the cocaine to him, did you hear any more? About how his second meeting with Jasmine had gone?’

  ‘Nothing. Next thing I hear, the guy’s dead.’

  ‘So what do you think actually happened when they met?’

  ‘I think she asks him for money – though God knows where she thinks he will have got any from during that evening. They argue, maybe he pulls the gun to scare her, she grabs it and shoots him.’

  ‘Are you sure about that?’

  Lefty Rubenstein sighed wearily. ‘What else is there to think? I got the impression Detective Inspector Malik’s suspicions were moving in that direction too.’

  ‘Did she say so?’

  ‘Not in as many words. But I got the sense that Jasmine del Rio had moved a long way up the suspects’ leader board. Look at the facts. There’s a text from her on Kenny’s phone, fixing the first meeting in her car. Jasmine’s most likely the last person to see Kenny alive. Kenny’s dead, she’s nowhere to be found. I would imagine she’s got as far away from Eastbourne as she possibly can. And if that’s not an admission of guilt, Charles, I’d like to know what is.’

  As Charles made his way to rehearsal, feeling more than ever that he’d spent the night being battered and disoriented in a tumble dryer with a couple of those nubbly plastic balls, his mobile beeped to tell him he’d got a text.

  It read: ‘If you value your life, don’t play Baron Hardup. No one can replace the inimitable Kenny Polizzi.’

  SIXTEEN

  DYSPEPSIA: This dress was on offer, a bargain for me. I got it for a ridiculous figure.

  NAUSEA: So I see!

  Charles was not greatly disturbed by the threat. When someone has as large a fan base as Kenny Polizzi, there are bound to be a few cranks out there, some self-appointed keepers of the flame. For a slightly unhinged devotee, to regard Baron Hardup being played by someone else as a personal affront was probably quite logical. What was odd, though, was that the fan in question had somehow got hold of Charles’s mobile number.

  That could suggest a possible link to the Cinderella company. Everyone involved had a copy of the contact sheet prepared by the stage management, which listed everyone’s phone number and email address.

  Charles tried calling the number from which the text had been sent, but only got a message to say that the phone was switched off.

  Outside the St Asaph’s Church Halls, just as he was about to enter, Charles caught sight of a poster for Cinderella. Someone must have worked hard over the weekend to agree the revised text and get it printed. All trace of Kenny Polizzi had been removed from the line-up. Top billing and the largest photograph now went to Tilly Marcus, ‘from TV’s Gatley Road’. Below her, in substantially smaller font with a smaller photograph, was Tad Gentry ‘from TV’s Frenton High’.

  Charles anticipated ructions ahead.

  Once inside the Church Halls, he immediately got caught up in rehearsing Baron Hardup and forgot about the threatening text. In the few moments he had to think about anything other than Cinderella, the bit of his mind that wasn’t full of hangover was filled by the information he’d received that morning from Lefty.

  It seemed tha
t the police suspected Jasmine del Rio of murdering Kenny. But somehow that theory wasn’t entirely convincing to Charles.

  The absence of two more members of the company was quickly noticed that Tuesday morning. Tad Gentry wasn’t there – perhaps sulking about his demotion in the show’s billing. But, more disturbing from Charles’s point of view, there was no sign of Kitty Woo either. The dancer had been so worried about Jasmine’s disappearance that he was concerned that she might have set off on some quixotic quest to find her friend. The company stage manager had tried ringing the missing actors’ mobiles and left a series of increasingly urgent messages. But there had been no response from either of them.

  Charles wasn’t given much chance to worry about Kitty. He found Danny Fitz in a furious state. ‘Bix doesn’t seem to be aware that we open to the paying public at a two-thirty matinee on Friday. I’ve had no rehearsal at all for my scenes. Or any of the dialogue scenes, come to that.’

  ‘He’s still just working on the choreography, is he?’ asked Charles.

  ‘Of course he bloody is. He’s still wasting time trying to get those two boneheaded boxers into a dance routine. A totally unnecessary dance routine, I might add. And one that has meant elbowing all of the traditional Broker’s Men dialogue. I’ve been left to rehearse virtually on my own. It was bad enough when we had Mr “International Star” Polizzi shoehorning new bits into the script. I thought the one thing his death would do would be to put a stop to all that, but now everyone in the cast seems to think they have a right to mess up the traditional panto routines.

  ‘And to top it all, bloody Tad Gentry’s disappeared. Not that he’s any good as an Ugly Sister, but he does occasionally deliver a line he’s meant to deliver. And no one can rehearse a double act on their own. Oh, it’s so bloody frustrating!’

  ‘Well, look,’ Charles suggested, ‘would it help if I were to read in Tad’s lines for you? Then you can at least get some kind of rehearsal done.’

  ‘Oh, Charles, bless you. Are you sure you wouldn’t mind …?’

  ‘No problem. Which scene do you want to have a look at?’

  ‘The make-up routine. The one where Nausea and Dyspepsia are getting ready for Prince Charming’s ball.’

  ‘OK. What, so we’re both sitting behind the dressing table, is that it?’

  ‘Exactly. And when the lights come up we’re both holding hand mirrors.’

  ‘Let’s go for it, then,’ said Charles, finding his place in the script and taking a seat beside Danny. ‘So I’ll read Nausea.’

  ‘Yes, and you have the first line.’

  And so they went into the time-honoured routine …

  NAUSEA [HOLDING UP A HAND MIRROR AND LOOKING AT IT]: Aaaargh! Who’s that?

  DYSPEPSIA [HOLDING UP A HAND MIRROR AND LOOKING AT IT]: Why, that’s me.

  NAUSEA: Thank goodness. I thought it was me. [LOOKING AGAIN IN THE MIRROR] Actually, you know, I’ve got the complexion of a sixteen-year-old schoolgirl.

  DYSPEPSIA: Well, give it back to her – you’re wrinkling it.

  NAUSEA: You know, to look really good for Prince Charming’s ball, I’m going to have my face lifted.

  DYSPEPSIA: When they see what’s under it, they’ll drop it again pretty damn quick. But, Nausea, you stand no chance with Prince Charming. Not like me. I’m going to appeal to his patriotism. For that reason I’ve had a pair of knickers made out of a Union Jack.

  NAUSEA: Aren’t they uncomfortable?

  DYSPEPSIA: Well, they were a bit until I took the flagpole out.

  NAUSEA: To ensure I really appeal to the Prince I’m going to sprinkle myself all over with toilet water. Have you tried that, Dyspepsia?

  DYSPEPSIA: Well, I did once, but the seat fell on my head.

  NAUSEA: Oh dear. I’ve got a new hat for the ball.

  DYSPEPSIA: Have you?

  NAUSEA: Oh yes. Every time I’m down in the dumps I buy myself a new hat.

  DYSPEPSIA: Oh, I wondered where you got them from.

  And so it went on. Corny beyond words, but as he watched Danny Fitz working the lines Charles really felt he was seeing a masterclass in comic timing.

  And he was flattered when, at the end of the scene, Danny said, ‘God, it’s such a relief to work with someone who can act.’

  As if on cue, they were joined from the bigger hall by someone who couldn’t act – the real Nausea, Tad Gentry. He was accompanied by Bix Rogers and Tilly Marcus, and the three of them were clearly in the middle of a major row. And the subject of their row Charles found all too predictable.

  ‘Listen, Bix,’ Tad was saying, ‘if we don’t get that poster changed, I’m afraid you’re going to have to find someone else to play Nausea. I’ve just been talking to my agent and she says the contract stipulated that Tilly and I should have equal second billing.’

  ‘Yes,’ the director argued, ‘but now Kenny’s dead there is no second billing.’

  ‘Yes, there is – and I’ve got it. And for some unfathomable reason Tilly’s got top billing.’

  ‘The reason is not unfathomable at all,’ came the spirited riposte from the lady in question. ‘I’ve got top billing because I’m a regular in Gatley Road, which has always had much higher ratings than Frenton High.’

  ‘That isn’t the point!’ stormed Tad.

  ‘I think it’s very much the point!’ Bix had by now been reduced to the role of spectator, watching the exchange as though he had a seat at the Wimbledon Centre Court. ‘Also I am still one of the stars of Gatley Road, whereas you were dropped from Frenton High some years ago.

  ‘I was not dropped! I made the decision to leave! I asked the producers to come up with better storylines for my character and when they refused I knew it was the moment to develop my career elsewhere.’

  ‘And where was that exactly?’ demanded Tilly. ‘I haven’t seen much evidence of you being very successful anywhere else. Long time since you’ve had a part in anything on the box, isn’t it?’

  ‘I have been diversifying my career,’ said Tad with what he hoped was dignity. ‘I’d rather outgrown British television. I’ve been focusing on work in the States.’

  ‘Well, none of it’s come to anything, has it? We haven’t been treated to any Hollywood blockbusters with you as the star, have we?’

  ‘I did have a part in the new Buck Carty movie.’

  ‘And who the hell’s Buck Carty?’

  ‘He’s bigger in the States than he is here.’

  ‘He must be.’

  ‘My American agent said it was good to start with a small part … you know, it was like a calling card to Hollywood and—’

  ‘Bullshit!’ cried Tilly. ‘What was the movie called?’

  Tad couldn’t help looking a little shamefaced as he replied, ‘Death of the Undead.’

  ‘Funny,’ said Tilly, enjoying his discomfiture, ‘I never heard news of the premiere of that one. Or of the A-list stars who attended it. Straight to video, was it?’

  Tad directed his next words to Bix, the ineffectual umpire of the contest. ‘This has got to be sorted out,’ he said, more calmly. ‘My agent says the billing agreement is in the contract. I demand that you get on to the management of this show and have the new poster withdrawn. Otherwise I will be unable to continue in the show.’ He looked at his watch. ‘You have an hour to sort it out. I’ll be in the Starbucks opposite, so come and tell me when we have an agreement.’

  And with something approaching dignity, Tad Gentry stalked out of St Asaph’s Church Halls.

  Without a full complement of Ugly Sisters, there was not a lot for Charles to do, because most of Baron Hardup’s scenes involved Nausea and Dyspepsia. Anyway, after Tad’s departure Danny had also stormed out in a fit of pique, so they were left with no Ugly Sisters.

  The one other scene he could have rehearsed was near the beginning of the show, when the Broker’s Men came and demanded Baron Hardup’s overdue rent. But since Mick ‘The Cobra’ Mesquito and Garry ‘Bomber’ Brawn were still involved with
Bix trying to translate boxing into dance, they couldn’t do that one either.

  Charles checked with the stage management that he wasn’t required for anything else and, having assured them he’d have his mobile switched on in case of a sudden call, left the hall.

  He’d decided, for the second time in two days, that he might go to a coffee shop.

  Charles Paris wasn’t very well informed about the infinite varieties of coffee available in a Starbucks, but he did know that he liked a double espresso, so that was what he ordered.

  While it was being prepared he looked across at Tad, who sat without newspaper or book, staring down into his coffee cup. Though not familiar with Frenton High, a series about the loves, feuds and other extramural disasters of a group of surprisingly attractive (and surprisingly old-looking) sixth-formers at a London comprehensive school, Charles had gathered that Tad’s character had been a fatally attractive villain. And the much-disputed photograph on the Cinderella poster dated from the height of his soap-star fame. In it he was strikingly good-looking, with his black hair and almost black eyes.

  But the Tad Gentry who sat in Starbucks that Tuesday morning was no longer quite such a babe magnet. Though his body was still meticulously gym-toned, his face had thickened out a bit around the jowls. His hair, even blacker now, so much so that it must have been dyed, was beginning to thin around the temples. And the lips that might once have been sensuous now just looked petulant.

  Though they had spent no time in a one-to-one situation, the two actors did obviously know each other as members of the Cinderella company, so it was quite legitimate for Charles to move across with his espresso and say, ‘Mind if I join you?’

  Tad shrugged permission without notable enthusiasm. Charles decided that he should ingratiate himself a little. ‘Sorry to hear about that business in the rehearsal room. They are buggers, aren’t they? Never seem to take any notice of what’s in your contract.’

  ‘Tell me about it,’ said Tad.

  ‘And it’s ridiculous giving Tilly billing above you.’

  Charles worried for a moment that he was taking self-ingratiation too far, but the younger actor’s response showed he’d got the approach just right.