Chapter 11
SATURDAY LUNCHTIME
Oscar and I walked across to the terrace at noon.
Fortunately it was a bit less oppressively hot today, with a hint of a breeze rustling the leaves in the pergola above my head.
I found Diego serving glasses of sparkling wine to a little group of four or five people.
As I approached, I did my best to associate the photos I’d seen on the Internet with the people before me.
Dirk Foster was the easiest to identify.
I knew the veteran actor to be seven years older than me, but I didn’t need a mirror to know that he looked far, far younger.
He was tall, probably a couple of inches taller than me, his perfectly hydrated skin glowed with an even, golden tan, and his immaculately styled hair didn’t have a single speck of grey in it.
Alongside him was a figure that I didn’t recognise immediately.
I had to give her a second or a third glance before I realised that the rather frumpy woman alongside him with a scruffy mop of short, unkempt hair – quite possibly cut by herself – was none other than Lucy O’Connell.
Considering that the Internet had told me that she was only forty-two and she’d been voted the sexiest woman in the world only a few years earlier, her deterioration was startling.
Just behind them was a white-haired old man slumped on a seat, smoking the biggest cigar I’d ever seen in my life.
I might be exaggerating slightly, but it looked almost the size of a rolling pin.
I’ve never smoked, but I had to admit that it did smell good.
He was easily recognisable as Desmond Norman, the legendary movie mogul, and to his left was another elderly man, this time a considerably fatter man, who was wiping copious amounts of sweat off his face with a handkerchief the size of a small towel.
This had to be Jack Sloane, the casting director with an eye for outstanding talent, whose phone number had achieved legendary status.
As I approached them from one side, a couple approached from the other, and I couldn’t miss Maggie McBride, widow of Caspar McBride the oil billionaire, allegedly one of the richest women on the planet.
From where I was standing, she looked far younger than her sixty-two years, while the slim, swarthy man half her age on her arm fell neatly into the ‘Latin lover’ category that Alice had described, even down to the shirt open almost to his navel and a gold medallion the size of a chocolate Hobnob on his hairy chest. I didn’t bother checking him for tattoos, or to see how tight his trousers were.
I decided I would take Alice’s word for that.
I was just in the process of helping myself to a glass of fizz – no beer on offer – when a shrill whistle split the air and both Oscar and I turned around to see Alice herself with two fingers at her lips, calling Oscar.
She crouched down, opened her arms, and he didn’t need to be asked twice.
He shot across the paving slabs to bury himself in her arms, tail wagging furiously.
‘That’s a handsome dog you have there.’
I turned back to find myself being addressed by none other than Dirk Foster, multi-Oscar-winning star of more blockbuster movies than I could shake a stick at. I did my best to look as if chatting to global megastars was an everyday occurrence for me.
‘Thanks for the compliment. As I expect you’ll find out, Oscar has very good taste when it comes to women. I’m thinking of hiring him out to judge beauty pageants.’ I held out my hand towards the great man. ‘I’m Dan. I’m going to be the detective in tonight’s little play.’
He gave me a charming smile that showed off some very expensive dental work, while I did my best not to yelp with pain as he shook my hand. He didn’t bother introducing himself. Very few people on the planet were unfamiliar with his face. ‘So how do you know the lovely Alice?’
From the way he said it, I got the feeling he maybe wasn’t as fond of her as might have been expected. I told him briefly about our shared friendship with Selena Gardner and I got the impression that Selena wasn’t high in his book of favourite actors either. Maybe he just hated everybody.
At that moment, we were descended upon by Maggie McBride – and I use that expression advisedly.
She suddenly materialised alongside Foster, relinquished her hold on her Latin lover, and threw her arms around Foster’s neck – or at least she tried to.
Seen close up, she was far smaller than I had imagined, in spite of wearing a pair of high heels that made it look as though she were on tiptoe.
He bent forward obligingly and allowed her to deposit two smacking kisses on his cheeks, but I couldn’t miss his expression of resignation as she assaulted him.
‘Dirk, darling, the older you get, the more desirable you become.’ Even I couldn’t miss the exaggerated Southern belle accent.
I glanced at her boyfriend, who was standing back obediently with a fixed smile on his handsome features.
It occurred to me that – just like Labradors in hot weather – the life of a toyboy wasn’t always a bundle of fun.
Foster stepped back and produced another gleaming smile that looked almost sincere – but he was a very good actor, after all.
‘Maggie, my dear. How lovely to see you again.’ I wasn’t convinced that he meant it.
‘I’m sure it is.’ Maggie McBride’s tone was at odds with her smile. In spite of the outward show of affection, I had a feeling there was no love lost between these two.
‘You look stunning, as always.’ I was sure that even Oscar could hear the lack of sincerity in his voice.
Maggie McBride made no comment, and I wasn’t prepared for what happened next.
She turned and, before I could take evasive action, grabbed me by the shoulders, pulled me down towards her and slapped a couple of kisses on my cheeks as well.
‘Well, hi there, handsome. How come I haven’t seen you around before? ’
I stepped back in my turn and searched for a satisfactory response.
‘I’m not in the movie business; I’m a detective.
’ Maybe I was still in a state of shock after her effusive greeting, but for a split second, I saw what might have been a shadow run across her face before she plastered on another smile.
‘A detective! How exciting. And what are you detecting here? Maybe you think I’ve been a naughty, naughty girl.
’ She held out her wrists towards me. ‘Clap on the handcuffs and I’ll come quietly.
’ She then burst into a peal of raucous laughter and shot a lascivious glance at her boyfriend.
‘Quiet’s not my style though, is it, honey? ’
I was relieved to feel a friendly nudge down at knee level and then a tap on my shoulder.
I glanced around and saw Oscar and Alice beside me.
I ruffled his ears and gave her a smile that probably came across as a cry for help, because she immediately stepped forward and encircled Maggie McBride in an exaggerated hug that might or might not have been genuine.
‘Maggie, darling, you really are incorrigible. Leave these lovely men alone.’ When she stepped back, I definitely got the impression that she was struggling to maintain the appearance of a warm welcome towards the other woman.
‘You haven’t introduced me to your significant other.
’ She turned towards the Latin lover. ‘You must be the handsome Italian I’ve been hearing about. ’
He stepped forward and held out his hand.
‘My name is Rocco.’ He had a strong Italian accent.
‘All my life, I’ve wanted to meet you, Signora Graceland.
I’ve seen every film you’ve ever been in and I think you’re wonderful.
’ He sounded as though he meant it, and for a moment, I saw Maggie’s lips tighten.
Presumably, toyboy compliments were to be reserved for the partner of the hour.
Alice gave him a big smile, shook his hand and then glanced back at Maggie. ‘Now tell me straight, Maggie: did you train him to say that?’
Maggie McBride shook her head. ‘No, he did it all by himself.’ She could have been talking about a prize poodle that had just learned to stand on its hind legs. ‘He has a thing about beautiful women.’
I distinctly saw Dirk Foster roll his eyes, before he politely excused himself and headed off in the direction of the two elderly men.
I decided to follow his example, shot both women a smile, and turned away, just in time to almost bump into a couple who had emerged from a nearby room.
I recognised them as Carlos Rodriguez, the famous director, and Greg Gupta, scriptwriter par excellence. I held up an apologetic hand.
‘Sorry to bump into you, gentlemen. I’m Dan.’
Rodriguez produced a conspiratorial grin. ‘No problem. Greg and I saw you making a break for freedom. Maggie can have that effect on the unwary.’ His accent was pure California.
Gupta grinned as well. ‘They don’t call her the man-eater for nothing.’ He held out his hand toward me. ‘Hi, I’m Greg, and this is Carlos.’
We all shook hands as Oscar finally managed to tear himself away from Alice and wandered over to say hello while I explained what I was doing here. To my surprise, Gupta already knew more about me than I had expected.
‘Selena was talking about you just the other day.’ He turned to Rodriguez. ‘This guy’s a dynamite private eye, and Selena told me he saved her life. Would you believe that?’
I was then forced to give them a brief summary of how I had met Selena Gardner, but I had to admit that I hadn’t actually stepped into the line of fire to save her life.
‘Yes, I helped the Florence police to catch the killer, but there’s only one hero around here and that’s Oscar.
’ I pointed down and he wagged his tail proudly. This wasn’t news to him.