our scenes. How that was possible, I have no idea, as almost everything we’d shot together involved me in a ski mask. We hadn’t even gotten to the scenes where my identity is revealed and she discovers that I’m the killer.”
“I’m sorry, Mr. Slauson,” Jessie interjected. “But how does this explain whether or not you were fired?”
“I’m just trying to give a little context,” he said, mildly miffed. “The point is, Corinne didn’t like me stealing her thunder. So she used the scene we shot last night, in which I grab her by the throat, as an excuse to make trouble. She said I was too forceful and demanded Anton fire me. She holed up in her trailer, refusing to finish the scene. Anton came to me and said I should wrap for the night—.
“He didn’t fire you?” Jessie pressed.
“No. But he implied that he did to soothe Corinne for the night. He told me he wanted to let her cool down and that we’d smooth it over in the morning. He said to leave the set. I reminded him that if he did try to really get rid of me, I’d file a grievance with the union. He assured me it was just for show. So I made a big fuss, acting all put out, and marched off to my dressing room.”
“You don’t have a trailer?” Trembley asked.
“No one on this film has their own personal trailer besides Corinne. I share a dressing room with two other actors. It’s basically a glorified green room on the second floor above the stage.”
“So when did you actually leave the lot?” Jessie wanted to know.
“I removed my makeup and settled on the couch in the dressing room for a bit, just scrolling through my phone to decompress. At some point I woke up and realized I had drifted off. So I gathered my things and left.”
“What time was that?” Trembley asked.
“About eleven forty-five.”
“You realize that the time you were allegedly asleep on the second floor perfectly matches the window of time when Corinne Weatherly was murdered.”
“Extremely unfortunate coincidence for me,” Slauson said emotionlessly.
“You never heard anything unusual while you were in your dressing room?” Jessie asked.
“No. But truthfully, that’s not a shock. Most areas of a soundstage are designed to be soundproof. Even if I was downstairs in an adjoining room, I doubt I’d have heard anything, so certainly not one floor up.”
“Have you submitted your fingerprints and a DNA sample to Detective Bray?” Trembley asked.
“Hours ago,” he answered. “I also offered to turn over all my phone data.”
“GPS tracking wouldn’t be able to distinguish what floor you were on or if you left it in the dressing room while off somewhere else,” Jessie noted.
“Extremely unfortunate coincidence for you,” he noted.
“It would seem so,” Jessie agreed before moving on. “We’ve been asking this of everyone but it seems you’ve already made your opinion clear. Still, I’d like to hear it for the record. How did you feel when you learned of Corinne Weatherly’s death?”
Slauson crossed his legs and sighed before responding.
“I think it’s clear how I felt about her. She was a narcissistic, spiteful shrew who made every professional interaction with her unpleasant. But when I heard what happened, I was truly sorry. I’ll admit part of it was professional. Anton thinks we can keep the film afloat with some reshoots and clever editing, but I’m not so sure. I need this movie to get completed. Her death puts that in question.
“But beyond that, I was the Marauder on the first three films in the franchise, two of which she starred in. I remember Corinne from back then. She was vivacious and fun-loving. I’m not going to say she was a sweetheart because, even back then, she could be difficult. But she had energy and an ‘anything goes’ spirit that I found infectious. I don’t know what happened to that girl but I missed her. And now that Corinne is dead, she’ll never get the chance to find her way back to that person I found so interesting.”
Jessie was quiet. Something Slauson said resonated with her. She couldn’t help but remember herself a decade earlier—finishing up college, dating a charming guy, leading a mostly happy life. The intervening years had changed her too, though hopefully not in the soul-draining manner they had Corinne. But there was no question that the endless parade of death she’s witnessed at the hands of people she was supposed to be able to trust had scarred her.