What had so twisted Corinne Weatherly? Was it just the hazards of fame or had something else happened to her along the way?
“You’re free to go for now,” Trembley told Slauson when it became clear Jessie wasn’t going to speak again. “We’ll be in touch.”
When the actor had left, the young detective turned to her.
“Are you okay?” he asked, concerned.
She looked up at his worried eyes and wanted to set him at ease. But she wasn’t feeling it.
“I’m not sure.”
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
They only had one interview left.
When director Anton Zyskowski scurried into the room, he oozed irritation.
“You seem a little agitated, Anton,” Jessie said, poking at him right from the get-go.
“This is unexpected to you?” he demanded, clearly not picking up on her sarcasm. “My leading lady is dead. My production is halted. My people are upset. They are confused. This picture was already all pressure. Now it is too much. So yes, I am agitated. I am very much agitated.”
“Well,” Trembley jumped in, “our hope is that if you’re forthcoming with us, we’ll be able to let you resume shooting once we finish talking.”
“Already we have lost so many hours, it is hard to make up. I’m not so sure the picture can be saved.”
“Yes, that is regrettable,” Jessie agreed. “It’s also regrettable that a human being was strangled to death last night, wouldn’t you say?”
“Of course, of course,” he said with a dismissive wave that suggested he wasn’t focused on the tragedy of it all.
“Where were you last night between ten p.m. and midnight, Anton?” she asked.
“As I told to the other woman detective…”
“You can just call me the other detective,” Bray noted from the corner of the room.
“Yes, as I told to the other one,” Zyskowski continued, looking perplexed by the correction, “I was reviewing dailies and giving many notes to the editor. I edit all the nights to stay ahead of schedule.”
“Where were you doing this?” Jessie asked.
“The picture has an edit suite in the building across the city.”
“Across the city?” Trembley repeated.
“Yes. On other side of New York Street, there is a large facility. I am there every night past midnight. Last night was not different.”
“Can anyone confirm this?” Jessie asked.
“Yes, of course. I was entering and leaving the edit bay many times. The editor can tell you. His name is Barry something.”
“Barry Osterman,” Detective Bray volunteered. “He confirms that Mr. Zyskowski was in the edit bay for long stretches during the time in question, though there were periods where he stepped out.”
“I have many responsibilities,” the director said huffily. “I must make calls, organize schedules, review shot lists. I cannot be all places at once.”
“What was it like working with Corinne Weatherly?” Jessie asked, apparently taking Zyskowski by surprise, as his eyes widened suddenly.
“Am I to be honest or nice?” he asked.
“Honest, please,” Jessie said. “Always honest.”
“She is a nightmare, was a nightmare. I think that here you call it a prima donna? Never pleased enough. Always demanding silly things—special foods, rest time. She was the only performer with a trailer for one but she always complained that it is too small. To be true with you, she was lucky to have any of it.”
“Why do you say that?” Trembley inquired.
“Because she is not what she was. Corinne Weatherly was famous and sometimes a good actress also. But now she is not as famous and not as good. I directed this picture because I knew I could save Marauder series, make it good again. But also because I thought I could make Corinne good again. I would be the one to save her career.”
“You sound like a real saint,” Jessie interjected.
Zyskowski stared at her, confused.
“No. I only wanted to make a scary, fun picture that has beautiful film craft also. But Corinne did not care about that. She said she did. But she and her new agent only cared for extra things. Her rider was crazy—special trailer, personal caterer, masseuse—so many things that the picture was not about. She took away my passion for Marauder.”
“When did she get this new agent?” Trembley asked intently, leaning forward.
“After agreeing to the picture but before it started. The old agent did not make crazy demands. But the new one, he said she would leave picture if we did not do all she wanted. Her needs added over one million dollars to a twelve-million-dollar picture. It is too much for the budget. But she did not care. Thinking about it makes me angry. Are we done with all this