"Actually, hedoesn'tlet me help, I bully my way into it," said Linda.
"That's exactly right."
"But he loves a dominant woman."
"I don't remember asking for one at Christmas."
"That's because I wrote up your list for you, being a dominant woman."
"That figures."
"Oh, is my sweetie being sulky? Nobody likes being around a person with a stinky attitude, even if they have a cute little dent in their chin like you."
"If you keep it up, that Roger guy is going to want his throat torn out for real," Dominick told her.
I was getting to that point myself. I was also starting to notice that Dominick smelled kind of weird, but I couldn't identify the scent.
"I'm so sorry, sweetie, did I steal your glory by telling about what you do, with my help? Here, you can tell them what I do now."
"No, that's all right, I wouldn't want you to stop being the center of attention."
"Good." Linda turned back to me. "I do all the set decoration and prop work, except for weapons, which Dominick does."
"What kind of set decoration?" I asked. "Doesn't it take place in people's homes?"
"Usually their homes, or sometimes outdoors.I make sure furniture gets rearranged to fit what we need for the scene, and if the scene calls for somebody to be making cookies, I'll set that up, and stuff like that."
"Doesn't sound like she does much, does it?" asked Dominick. "That might explain why she feels the need to keep invading my territory."
She swatted him playfully on the arm. "I also do the lighting, which is very important in that it allows people to actually see themselves on the videotape."
"Essentially, her job is to go from room to room and find out where all the light switches are," Dominick said. "Once she's done that, she goes back and makes sure that they all operate on the up-for-on, down-for-off principal. Occasionally her job will be made more difficult with a knob instead of a switch, but that's what she makes the big bucks for."
She swatted him again, also playfully but with a hell of a lot more force than last time. "Actually, I work with very large, powerful lights, which I have to set up out of sight of the camera. And I have to make sure that they don't burn down the customer's home, which tends to screw up our chances of a good referral."
"I can see where that would prove problematic." I was still noticing Dominick's aroma, which I suspected was some kind of funky Goth cologne. "This is off the subject," I said, "but what kind of cologne are you wearing?"
Dominick frowned, then lifted his palm to his nose and sniffed. "Oh, that.Catfish."
"The mighty sportsman was out terminating helpless fish this morning," said Linda. "Those manly impulses get the best of him sometimes. Normally he does a better job bathing afterward."
Farley waved to me. "If you've had enough of the lover's quarrel, I think he's dry."
I returned to where poor Roger sat. "How's it going, buddy?" I asked. He gave me the finger on the sly, which I thought was shockingly unprofessional for a magazine editor.
Farley began to brush on some flesh-colored makeup, hiding the edge of the latex and making it look like a natural part of Roger's neck. "We do almost entirely aftermath gore here," he explained. "It's pretty complicated toactuallyshow a throat being ripped out, and it definitely takes more time than we've got when we're just visiting somebody's house for a day. And it's a little more gruesome than most people want anyway, the wimps. So we won't actually show anything really gross happening, we'll just show what it looks like afterward."
He took a couple more minutes to blend in the makeup, and then nodded with satisfaction at the result. "Now, if this were for real, I'd take longer to ensure that it looks more believable, but this is just a demonstration. Dominick, could you grab me the bottle of blood?"
Dominick took a large bottle from one of the shelves and brought it to him. "Show of hands," said Farley. "Little bit of blood, or lot of blood?All in favor of little blood?"
Nobody but Roger raised their hands. I certainly didn't.
"Lotof blood?"
Everyone else raised their hands.
"Okay, let's dump it on!" Farley poured a generous portion of the blood on Roger's neck. It was thick and looked unnervingly real. "Enough?Never!" He poured on even more, and I could see Roger cringe as it oozed down the side of his neck.
"Am I dead yet?" he asked.
"Oh, yeah, you're dead," said Farley.
"Okay, roll your eyes in the back of your head and let your tongue hang out," said Rachel, appearing out of nowhere with a Polaroid camera. Roger did as instructed, and she snapped a picture. She removed the photo from the camera and handed it to me. "Here. This could be the cover of your magazine."
"Can I get up now?" asked Roger.
"If you want, I could add a small demonic creature gnawing on your throat," Farley offered. "I don't make this offer for everyone, so take it or forever hold your peace."
"I'll hold my peace," said Roger. Farley held the sheet so that it caught most of the blood as Roger sat up.
"Oops, it dripped a bit," Farley pointed out. "But that wasn't your best shirt anyway, was it?"
"Too bad Helen isn't working right now," I said. "We could pay a visit to the hospital and freak her out." After about .0037 of a second's reflection, I decided that it was, in fact,agood thing Helen wasn't working right now.
"I'll give you a free severed thumb effect if you walk around town all day wearing that and a sign that says `Ghoulish Delights was here,'" Farley offered.
"Thanks, but no," said Roger. "How about directing me to the nearest bathroom?"
Linda took him by the hand. "Here, I'll show you." She led him through the doorway. After a moment's consideration, Dominick followed.
"Could I look at one of the scripts?" I asked Rachel.
"Oh, sure, come on back to the waiting room," she said.
Looking at the script was just to satisfy my own curiosity. I really didn't have much to go on toward figuring out who buried Michael and stabbed Jennifer, but I was pretty sure it hadn't been anyone in Ghoulish Delights. After all, could I really stand there and talk to the killer face-to-face without getting any kind of indication that he or she hated my guts?
Rachel took a binder off her desk and handed it to me. I opened to the first script and quickly flipped through the ten pages. Linda was really on to something when she said they weren't practicing their Academy Awards speeches yet.
Sample dialogue:
MOTHER :Stay away! Stay away, you beast! Stay away!
PSYCHOPATH :Never! You will die, as did my own mother, and as will all the mothers of the world when I'm done!
MOTHER :But...but...it's Father's Day!
While I was perusing the script, Carl walked into the room and asked Rachel something very technical about a new tripod. She answered back with something equally technical and budget-related. Carl tried to explain in very technical terms why the budget-related answer wasn't what he wanted to hear, but Rachel quickly forced him to accept it, and he returned to the back room.
As I set the script back down, I noticed something resting on Rachel's desk that gave my heart a sudden jolt.A deck of cards.Prophecies of the Night.
"Oh, hey, Prophecies of the Night," I said, keeping my voice casual. "Do you play?"
Rachel rolled her eyes. "Oh, God, Carl is always trying to foist that stupid game on us. He plays it once a week with his friends. He got everyone a deck for Christmas, and we all get a new deck on our birthday. I went with him once just to shut him up, but the game makes no sense."