Free A Knife to Remember by Jill Churchill

weirdo director, George Abington, Mike, and me. Angela and somebody else I didn’t recognize were at the far end of the table, but they didn’t have much of anything to say.“
    “How did everybody act toward each other?“ Shelley asked.
    “Absolutely bland for the most part. As if they’d never met or had a cross word. Well, except for George Abington and Lynette Harwell. They sniped at each other, but it had a quality of old stuff that neither of them really had their heart in. Cavagnari was unaware of anybody except as an audience to listen to a confusing story about a set that blew up or blew down or something. I think it was in Prague, which is very possibly the most boring place on earth to hear about.“
    “What about Jake? How did he act?“
    “No particular way. He didn’t say much. He pretended to politely listen to Cavagnari. Ate all his lunch as if he had nothing especially important on his mind.“
    “You didn’t sense that he felt he was in danger?“
    “No. Not at all. But then, I didn’t know the man. I wouldn’t have any idea what’s normal behavior for him.”
    They watched as Mel crossed the backyard toward the house. He came into the living room a minute later with the police secretary in tow. “Mrs. Jeffry, would you please repeat for the record what you heard earlier today? The conversation you overheard?”
    Very formal, aren’t we? Jane thought, and responded in kind. “Of course, Detective Van Dyne. I’m sorry, but I don’t remember the exact words, only the gist. Two people were speaking—“
    “Are you sure of that?”
    Jane thought for a minute. “I think so. At least the context of the conversation suggested that there were only two. The first one said something about one of the actresses getting sick and that the other one knew what he wanted done. There was something about talking to the director and the second one said he and the director didn’t get along and he wouldn’t help. Then the first one said something about remembering some porn flicks and how they didn’t give prestigious awards to people who had been in them.“
    “And... ?“ Mel prodded.
    “And nothing. That was it.“
    “Nothing more specific than that?“
    “The blackmailer mentioned the names of some movies, but I don’t remember exactly what they were. One was Something Bambi or Bambi Something. The other one had something to do with college. Classroom Capers or something like that.”
    Mel thought for a moment and the secretary sat with her pencil poised like an automaton with her batteries turned off.
    “You keep saying ‘he,’ “ Mel said. “Were the speakers both men?“
    “I’m not sure. I thought they were, but I couldn’t be positive. They were whispering.“
    “And you could hear them?“
    “Whispering loudly,“ Jane said, feeling foolish. It was his job to pick holes in her story, but he didn’t have to be so good at it. She was sure he was picturing her in the undignified position of having her ear glued to the back of the set, which was true.
    “Okay. What about the way they spoke. I mean the grammar. Were they both educated sounding? Could you discern any accent? Any speech impediment?”
    Jane considered carefully. “No, there was nothing remarkable in any way. Normal language. No glaring errors. No lisp or anything like that.”
    He asked a few more questions about the time of day she heard them, the duration of the conversation, and her proximity to the speakers, then dismissed the secretary. He walked over and stared out the back window for a minute. “These are the oddest people. Look at them. Everybody looks busy, but you can’t tell exactly what any of them are doing. And they just keep doing it. Murder doesn’t seem to faze them. I like for people to be taken aback by death. At least for a little while.”
    Mel seldom spoke seriously about his job and Jane was surprised. She and Shelley waited for him to go on, but instead he turned back to them and smiled.