A Sprinkle of Sabotage by Fiona Leitch (bill gates book recommendations TXT) 📗

honest, Detective Chief Inspector, I’m starting to wish I’d never agreed to them filming here.’

‘It must be difficult, I can imagine,’ said Nathan agreeably. ‘All I can tell you is that last night, one of the cast members was taken ill after shooting and subsequently died. We’re not currently treating it as suspicious, but of course we do have a duty to investigate any unexpected death. Hence there’ll be a few of my uniformed colleagues around for a couple of days, and I’ll be here as necessary as well. What that means for the shoot I can’t tell you, I’m afraid. I assume they’re trying to decide how best to proceed. You should probably take it up with Mr Mancuso.’

‘Someone died? Who? How?’ Morgan looked horrified.

‘Jeremy Mayhew,’ I said. ‘It looks like an allergic reaction to something he ate.’ Nathan looked at me sharply, then nodded.

‘We’re still waiting for the official cause of death, but that’s certainly what it looks like,’ he said.

‘How terrible,’ said Morgan, although he looked almost relieved. ‘Well, I’ll just… Things to do,’ he said, lamely. ‘Thank you for your help, DCI Withers.’

We watched him leave. Germaine, whose ears had been pricked and alert all through the exchange with Morgan, gave a heavy sigh and settled down again.

‘He really doesn’t like having them here, does he?’ murmured Nathan.

‘No,’ I said, ‘which is a shame, because I met him on casting day and he was really excited about it. They got his back up when they trampled all over his flowerbed, the day the lightbulbs got smashed.’

‘Yes…’ Nathan looked thoughtful.

I smirked. ‘You’re doing it now. It’s niggling you too, isn’t it?’

‘Nothing’s niggling me,’ he said, but he didn’t sound convincing and he knew it. ‘Oh all right, yes, yes, it is.’

‘Too many accidents.’

He nodded. ‘It’s all just a bit … convenient, isn’t it? So many accidents, people thinking the shoot’s cursed, and then there’s a death. So maybe it is cursed. Except you and I know these things don’t exist, don’t we?’

‘We do.’

‘The only curse that exists is the one between me and you. The one where we get interrupted every time I try and—’ Nathan’s phone began to ring. He rolled his eyes and looked at me. ‘See? Every. Single. Time.’ He answered the phone. ‘DCI Withers… How are you feeling today, Mr Mancuso?’ He raised his eyebrows and looked at me as he talked. ‘So no more sickness? That’s good… Of course… Well, maybe we should have a little chat first… Oh, are you? That’s handy, so am I. We can use Ms Mackenzie’s trailer.’

He grinned at me as he disconnected the call. ‘So that was Mike Mancuso, wanting a case reference number so he can claim on the shoot’s insurance. Fancy coming for a chat?’

Chapter Seventeen

The movie producer was looking surprisingly chipper for someone who had been throwing up all night, and whose movie was presumably dead in the water along with one of its stars.

He stood up as we entered Faith’s trailer and strode over to us, then pumped Nathan’s hand. ‘Thanks for coming, Detective, appreciate it.’

‘No problem,’ said Nathan. ‘There were a few questions I wanted to ask you about last night, so we can kill two birds with one stone.’ He smiled and gestured to the built-in seating in the trailer’s kitchen area. ‘Shall we?’

Mancuso’s smile hardened; if he’d thought he was calling all the shots, Nathan had just firmly (but politely) shown him otherwise. But he was no doubt used to being the most powerful person in the room, and it would take more than that to throw him off his stride.

‘Of course.’ He looked me up and down, then turned back to Nathan as he sat down. ‘We really gonna talk in front of the caterer?’ He looked down as Germaine gave a little whine, then up at Nathan again. ‘And the mutt?’

‘Ms Parker’s catering business is just a sideline,’ said Nathan. ‘She’s a consultant with the Devon and Cornwall Constabulary, and obviously this particular case is well within her sphere of expertise.’ He paused. ‘The dog’s just along for the ride.’

I knew Nathan was only saying it to stop Mancuso objecting to my presence, but I still preened slightly. He called me an expert! I thought.

‘Case?’ said Mancuso sharply. ‘Surely Mayhew’s death was an accident, right? The pufferfish toxin—’

‘We’re still waiting for confirmation of the cause of death,’ said Nathan calmly. ‘Until then, we can’t rule anything out.’

‘But you know it was an accident, right?’ He looked from Nathan to me for confirmation.

‘Maybe it was the curse,’ I said. He rolled his eyes.

‘There ain’t no such thing,’ he said. ‘I know there’ve been a lot of … mishaps, but all this talk of a curse… Movie stars are like racehorses; they’re highly strung and easily spooked. There ain’t no curse. It was an accident, I’m telling ya.’

‘You’re probably right,’ agreed Nathan. ‘But we still need to ask you a few questions. I believe you were ill overnight? Tell me about that.’

‘I had a headache and vomiting,’ said Mancuso. Nathan waited. ‘What, you wanna description?’

‘We’re trying to work out why you were all affected to varying degrees,’ said Nathan. ‘Why do you think Mr Mayhew was so acutely affected? If it was the pufferfish, do you think he had considerably more than anyone else?’

Mancuso shifted around in his seat. ‘I don’t know. Ain’t like I was watching what everyone was eating.’

‘Fair enough. Can you tell me what you ate?’

‘The pufferfish, of course. I ate everything; it was delicious.’

‘Did you have a cupcake?’ I asked. Nathan shot me the briefest of glances and I got the impression that was exactly what he’d expected me to ask.

Mancuso nodded. ‘Oh yeah, at the end Zack brought out the box of cupcakes and we all had one. They were good.’

‘Did everyone eat one?’

He thought. ‘I think so… although Kimi made a big thing about not eating sugar, so I guess she didn’t. I don’t know.’

‘And were you in the trailer for