“Do you want to start with him first?” Bray asked.
“No,” Jessie said. “Let’s save him for last. You know, out of spite.”
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
They set up a makeshift interview room in the makeup trailer.
Surrounded by multiple masks of faces with bloody gashes and missing eyeballs, Detective Bray reviewed the four potential suspects with Jessie and Trembley. One was the film’s director, Anton Zyskowski, with whom they were already familiar.
Another was a lighting tech named Dave Marin who had stayed late to prep for today’s setups. He was also apparently outspoken in his disdain for Weatherly. The third was Monica Twohy, Corinne’s on-set assistant, who had left the lot and later returned, allegedly to pick up an item she forgot. The last interviewee was Terry Slauson, the actor who played the Marauder and whom Corinne had apparently ordered be fired the night before.
“Who are we starting with?” Trembley asked.
“I thought we’d go with Dave Marin, the lighting tech,” Bray suggested.
As soon as he walked in wearing jeans and a T-shirt, Jessie remembered him from earlier that morning. He was the guy who mentioned group therapy to other crew members when they were walking to Corinne’s trailer. Scruffy and unshaven with longish black hair and an air of indifference, he seemed almost bored to be there.
“Detective Alan Trembley, Jessie Hunt—this is David Marin,” Detective Bray said. “He’s a lighting technician on the production. Mr. Marin, as I mentioned, these folks have a few questions for you.”
“Hey, guys,” Marin said nonchalantly as he walked over and sat down. “Are you putting the cuffs on now or later?”
“Are you confessing to something?” Jessie asked, her eyebrows rising.
“It depends. Do I have to confess to thinking a murder victim probably deserved it? Is that a crime these days?”
“Thinking it? No,” Trembley said. “Acting on it is a different story. Why don’t you walk us through yours?”
Marin did so, sounding as if he was reciting lines from a bland script. He had been assigned to set up lighting for this morning’s shoot, which was supposed to involve Corinne’s character, Chastity Ronin, hiding under a bed. It was complicated, with tricky shadows, and Zyskowski wanted all the kinks ironed out when he walked on set today. Marin needed the overtime so he volunteered to do it and ended up setting up the shot until almost two in the morning.
“Did you see Corinne Weatherly at any point during that stretch?” Trembley asked. “Maybe on the way to a bathroom break or something?”
“Nah, man. She didn’t use the regular people restrooms.”
“Did you see anyone?”
“I ran into Monica briefly, Corinne’s assistant—poor thing. She’d lost her phone and had come looking for it. I called it using mine and it rang by the living room set we’d been shooting on last night, where the big attack takes place. She thanked me and left and I went back to my thing.”
“You saw no one else?” Jessie asked.
“Nope. I closed the place down. But I did talk to my girlfriend for a while if that helps. Can’t you do some phone tracker thing? And I’m fine giving my DNA, fingerprints, whatever. Listen, I won’t miss her but I didn’t kill her. Truth be told, I’d be an idiot to do that. I need this gig and now it might be in jeopardy.”
Though Marin’s confidence and lack of anxiety were impressive, Jessie had long ago learned not to let that guide whether she bought a suspect’s alibi. She planned to follow up on every offer he’d made.
“What were you talking about earlier?” she wondered. “You said something about group therapy.”
“Oh, you heard that, huh? I was just being snarky.”
“But what does it mean?” Jessie pressed. “I don’t get it.”
“It’s just this story about Weatherly. It’s turned into a kind of urban legend. But I think at least part of it is true. I would sometimes mention it on-set under my breath to piss her off. She could never tell who was talking.”
“You still haven’t explained it,” Jessie noted.
“Right—a while back, on one of her movies, she was supposedly so verbally abusive to one of the production assistants that the girl had a mental breakdown. Some folks say the kid tried to off herself. I don’t know if that’s true. But I have little doubt that the breakdown part is.”
“How long ago was this?” Jessie asked.
“Not sure. Definitely after she got famous but long enough back that it’s become this Hollywood myth. I’d guess five to eight years ago maybe.”