B-Movie Murder (Written by Steve Shrott)Suspects: Angela; Debbie; Sal; Tom. There are 4 clues in this mystery.
Detective Cheryl Barnes and her partner Robert Simmons marched onto the set of "Alien Invaders," a low-budget movie being filmed at a rented house in the Hollywood Hills.
Cheryl looked at several alien costumes lying across a lawn chair and shuddered. “Boy these things are scary.”
Robert nodded. “Yeah. I think my goose bumps have goose bumps.”
The police were called when Clifford Lang, one of the actors, died in his trailer. The medical examiner removed the body and determined that poison had entered his system just before eight in the morning.
Robert walked around the lot, while Cheryl examined Clifford’s trailer. In front of it lay a carpet that was immaculate, even though it was on the street.
After a few moments, Cheryl walked inside the house and looked for the director of the film, Sal Digby. She found him in the kitchen. On the table beside Sal was a bag of herbs and vitamins.
“Hello Mr. Dibgy. I’m Detective Barnes. I understand you were the first person to find Mr. Lang's body. Can you describe the circumstances?"
“Sure.” He opened up a bottle and swallowed a Vitamin C capsule. “All the actors were on set by eight this morning -- except Clifford. I found it odd because usually he was right on time. When he didn't show after ten minutes, I ran over to his trailer and knocked on the door. He didn't answer so I used my master key.”
Sal swallowed another pill. "I felt terrible when I saw him. He lay on the floor, next to a script -- his face white. I didn’t touch him.” Sal rubbed his hands together. “I don’t like to touch anything because I get sick very easily. It looked like he had passed away so I called Angela to take his pulse.” Sal felt his brow. “Is it hot in here?”
Cheryl shook her head.
Sal looked through his bag for something else and then gave up.
"There's a rumor that Mr. Lang and his leading lady didn't get along."
The director shook his head. "Not true. Angela is actually quite a nice person. She used to be a nurse.
"And Lang?”
Sal began again to look in his bag. “If I can be honest here, he was kind of a prima donna. He made us cover the ground in front of his trailer with a rug so he wouldn’t get his fancy shoes dirty. Then he told us to make sure it’s cleaned at the end of each day.” He pulled out another bottle of pills. “Got it.”
"So with Lang out of the picture what happens with the movie?"
"We'll do some re-filming and add a few computer tricks."
Cheryl nodded. “I’d like to speak to Angela.”
A few moments later, Cheryl sat in a dimly lit trailer across from the weeping blonde-haired actress. "The murder occurred around eight. Can you tell me where you were at that time?”
“Yes,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I had just sat down in a chair outside the house."
"Can anyone verify that?”
"Yeah, Sal could.”
"The story is that you disliked Lang. Care to elaborate?"
"Actually, that's not true. We only tried to make it seem that way. In reality, we were...involved." Angela stood up and picked up a stack of letters from her table. "These are love letters he wrote me.” She sniffed
Cheryl raised her eyebrows. "So why put on the charade?"
"If people knew, it could leak out and end up splashed across the tabloids."
"I see," Cheryl said, glancing at the letters. "He's thanking you here for your help. What did you do for him?"
"Everything. He was diabetic. He would eat anything and everything and it was starting to show in his weight. I tried to help him as much as I could."
When Cheryl walked outside, she noticed a man setting up a camera just outside the house.
Cheryl showed him her credentials and asked his name.
“Tom.”
“Are you the only cameraman?”
“On this cheapo-shoot? Yeah. They were supposed to have an indoor camera guy and outdoor one. But they didn’t have the budget, so I have to do both. Have to take all my equipment inside the house, then outside. Geez.”
“How well did you know Mr. Lang?”
“Very well. I hated the man. I shot two other pictures with him. Wouldn’t have done this one, but I needed the dough.”
“Why didn’t you like him?”
“He would always yell at me saying that I didn’t get his good side, or I didn’t keep the camera running during his ‘great’ adlibs. Geez.”
“Can you account for your whereabouts at the time of the murder?”
“Yeah, sure,” he said, adjusting a few levers on his camera. “It happened this morning, right? Well, at about seven-thirty, I took a walk in the park across the road to clear my head.”
“What time did you get back?”
“About eight.” Tom looked at all the dirt on his shoes. “Geez, this place is one horror story after another.”
As Cheryl ambled back to the house, she noticed a young girl with horn-rimmed glasses exiting Angela’s trailer.
"Miss, can I speak to you for a moment? I’m..."
"I know you're that detective, aren’t you? Word travels fast on a movie set.”
"You are?"
"Debbie, the director's assistant. At least, that's my title. Basically, I'm a gopher."
"Where were you at eight this morning?"
"I had just left Clifford’s trailer after giving him coffee. I know because I checked my watch to see if I was on schedule. He seemed fine then.”
“What else do you do here?”
“Sometimes, I have to track down things for the staff. Like on Tuesday, I had to get Sal some herbs from the health food store. And yesterday, Angela asked me to get her some Dragon Fruit. It’s a delicacy from Indonesia.”
"Why?”
“She wanted to give it to Clifford. She told me it would help control his blood sugar.”
“One final question. Why is a smart girl like you working as a gopher?"
"For the connections. I'm going to be an actress." She smiled, showing off perfect white teeth. Clifford said he'd introduce me to some big-wigs."
At that moment, Cheryl’s partner, Robert, walked over to her. "Any luck?”
“Yeah, I now know whose telling the truth and who's just acting.”
Cheryl looked at several alien costumes lying across a lawn chair and shuddered. “Boy these things are scary.”
Robert nodded. “Yeah. I think my goose bumps have goose bumps.”
The police were called when Clifford Lang, one of the actors, died in his trailer. The medical examiner removed the body and determined that poison had entered his system just before eight in the morning.
Robert walked around the lot, while Cheryl examined Clifford’s trailer. In front of it lay a carpet that was immaculate, even though it was on the street.
After a few moments, Cheryl walked inside the house and looked for the director of the film, Sal Digby. She found him in the kitchen. On the table beside Sal was a bag of herbs and vitamins.
“Hello Mr. Dibgy. I’m Detective Barnes. I understand you were the first person to find Mr. Lang's body. Can you describe the circumstances?"
“Sure.” He opened up a bottle and swallowed a Vitamin C capsule. “All the actors were on set by eight this morning -- except Clifford. I found it odd because usually he was right on time. When he didn't show after ten minutes, I ran over to his trailer and knocked on the door. He didn't answer so I used my master key.”
Sal swallowed another pill. "I felt terrible when I saw him. He lay on the floor, next to a script -- his face white. I didn’t touch him.” Sal rubbed his hands together. “I don’t like to touch anything because I get sick very easily. It looked like he had passed away so I called Angela to take his pulse.” Sal felt his brow. “Is it hot in here?”
Cheryl shook her head.
Sal looked through his bag for something else and then gave up.
"There's a rumor that Mr. Lang and his leading lady didn't get along."
The director shook his head. "Not true. Angela is actually quite a nice person. She used to be a nurse.
"And Lang?”
Sal began again to look in his bag. “If I can be honest here, he was kind of a prima donna. He made us cover the ground in front of his trailer with a rug so he wouldn’t get his fancy shoes dirty. Then he told us to make sure it’s cleaned at the end of each day.” He pulled out another bottle of pills. “Got it.”
"So with Lang out of the picture what happens with the movie?"
"We'll do some re-filming and add a few computer tricks."
Cheryl nodded. “I’d like to speak to Angela.”
A few moments later, Cheryl sat in a dimly lit trailer across from the weeping blonde-haired actress. "The murder occurred around eight. Can you tell me where you were at that time?”
“Yes,” she said, wiping her eyes. “I had just sat down in a chair outside the house."
"Can anyone verify that?”
"Yeah, Sal could.”
"The story is that you disliked Lang. Care to elaborate?"
"Actually, that's not true. We only tried to make it seem that way. In reality, we were...involved." Angela stood up and picked up a stack of letters from her table. "These are love letters he wrote me.” She sniffed
Cheryl raised her eyebrows. "So why put on the charade?"
"If people knew, it could leak out and end up splashed across the tabloids."
"I see," Cheryl said, glancing at the letters. "He's thanking you here for your help. What did you do for him?"
"Everything. He was diabetic. He would eat anything and everything and it was starting to show in his weight. I tried to help him as much as I could."
When Cheryl walked outside, she noticed a man setting up a camera just outside the house.
Cheryl showed him her credentials and asked his name.
“Tom.”
“Are you the only cameraman?”
“On this cheapo-shoot? Yeah. They were supposed to have an indoor camera guy and outdoor one. But they didn’t have the budget, so I have to do both. Have to take all my equipment inside the house, then outside. Geez.”
“How well did you know Mr. Lang?”
“Very well. I hated the man. I shot two other pictures with him. Wouldn’t have done this one, but I needed the dough.”
“Why didn’t you like him?”
“He would always yell at me saying that I didn’t get his good side, or I didn’t keep the camera running during his ‘great’ adlibs. Geez.”
“Can you account for your whereabouts at the time of the murder?”
“Yeah, sure,” he said, adjusting a few levers on his camera. “It happened this morning, right? Well, at about seven-thirty, I took a walk in the park across the road to clear my head.”
“What time did you get back?”
“About eight.” Tom looked at all the dirt on his shoes. “Geez, this place is one horror story after another.”
As Cheryl ambled back to the house, she noticed a young girl with horn-rimmed glasses exiting Angela’s trailer.
"Miss, can I speak to you for a moment? I’m..."
"I know you're that detective, aren’t you? Word travels fast on a movie set.”
"You are?"
"Debbie, the director's assistant. At least, that's my title. Basically, I'm a gopher."
"Where were you at eight this morning?"
"I had just left Clifford’s trailer after giving him coffee. I know because I checked my watch to see if I was on schedule. He seemed fine then.”
“What else do you do here?”
“Sometimes, I have to track down things for the staff. Like on Tuesday, I had to get Sal some herbs from the health food store. And yesterday, Angela asked me to get her some Dragon Fruit. It’s a delicacy from Indonesia.”
"Why?”
“She wanted to give it to Clifford. She told me it would help control his blood sugar.”
“One final question. Why is a smart girl like you working as a gopher?"
"For the connections. I'm going to be an actress." She smiled, showing off perfect white teeth. Clifford said he'd introduce me to some big-wigs."
At that moment, Cheryl’s partner, Robert, walked over to her. "Any luck?”
“Yeah, I now know whose telling the truth and who's just acting.”