The terminology went over Diamond’s head, but he didn’t stop to ask. “Were there arguments?”
“More like undercurrents. Nothing was out in the open. Dave kept the peace. He had a really likeable personality. I don’t know where he was from.”
“Wales, I expect, going by the name.”
“I’m not so sure. There was the trace of a foreign accent when he spoke, quite sexy, in fact.”
Diamond didn’t miss an opening like that. “Did he make out with anyone?”
This got an embarrassed laugh. “Now you’re asking. Not me, unfortunately. No, I’m giving you the wrong idea. We actors talk the talk, but we’re no different from anyone else when it comes to personal relationships. He was nice to us all, and I expect that’s as far as it went.”
“He must have felt the pressure of working for Mary.”
“No question, but he didn’t let it show.”
“So was it a shock when he went missing?”
“Not immediately. We all assumed he was ill when he didn’t call in. After a couple of days, Mary sent someone to check at his flat somewhere up at Beechen Cliff.”
“Kipling Avenue.”
“Yes, and he wasn’t there. All the signs were that he’d gone out and not returned. That was when it sank in that he was missing.”
“Were there any theories?”
“The one some people favoured is that he was an illegal immigrant and thought the Home Office were on his trail, but I don’t think it was proved. The company is careful who it takes on. There’s loads of form-filling.”
“Was he reported as a missing person?”
“To the police? I couldn’t tell you. The office may have done something. We were in the middle of filming and far too busy to ask. Things move on quickly in this business. Mary needed a new assistant producer and one of the PAs had to step up and fill in.”
“PAs?”
“Production assistant. It’s a dogsbody role, running errands and making coffee. They’re learning on the job, getting experience.”
“So who got the job — Greg Deans?”
“Not Greg. He’d only just started at Bottle Yard. Candida Jones, who was far more plugged in. Candida joined as a runner after leaving school, before Swift was launched.”
A new name to Diamond. He glanced towards Ingeborg, who showed with a twitch of the shoulders that she hadn’t heard of this person either. “Is she still about?”
“I’ve no idea,” Sabine said. “She didn’t last long as Mary’s assistant. She left a year later to start a family.”
“Leaving the field clear for Greg?”
“He was well up to the job by then. He’s a quick learner.”
“He needed to be, because in — what? — a couple more years, Mary Wroxeter died and he took over her job as producer.”
“By then, he was the obvious choice. To be fair, he does it well and makes it easier for us than Mary ever did, but she was more exciting to work with. Don’t get me wrong. Greg is a good administrator — that’s his strength and that’s terribly important, because he doesn’t need to be so creative if he brings in the talent and gives it a chance to flourish.” She was making an effort to be fair to Deans, by contrast with the way Deans had characterised her, making no attempt to hide his dislike.
“And how about you?” Diamond asked. “Do you feel secure in the show?”
The question seemed to unsettle her. She tugged at the gown and covered her leg. “What exactly do you mean?”
“This jinx. Is there anything in it?”
“I have people around me I can trust.”
“The young lady who showed us in?”
“Chen? My live-in driver, hairdresser, cook and chiropodist.”
“Doorkeeper, too, as we found out,” Ingeborg said, to lighten the mood.
Sabine summoned up a half-smile. “She’s good at that, too. It’s great to have fans, but I don’t want them calling unexpectedly.”
“Chen — is that her first name?”
“No. She’s staff. I don’t want her getting too familiar.”
“You said ‘live-in.’ I hope she gets out sometimes.”
“Hardly ever. Her choice, not mine. Most of the TV crowd have never seen her.”
“You must have thought about all the bad luck,” Diamond pressed her, not wanting to leave the topic.
“I don’t let it get to me,” she said, and it sounded like a lie. “The paper kept badgering me for a comment and I refused to say a word. They could twist my words, couldn’t they? If you have any sort of success, they’re queuing up to knock you off your perch. A story like mine feeds people’s jealousy. There’s always a section who want you to come to grief. It’s human nature, isn’t it?”
“It gets serious if they do something to make the grief happen,” Diamond said. “Do you think someone is behind these incidents?”
“I don’t see how. Anyway, they’d have to be an insider.”
“With a grudge, perhaps because they felt they were treated unfairly?”
“Even if that were true, why would they want the whole show to suffer? No, I can’t believe that. I mean, the accident to Dan was just that — an accident.”
“Some of the other things could have been malicious. The fire.”
“That was right at the start before Swift was screened. You can’t blame that on success.”
“The elderly actress who played your mother,” Ingeborg put in.
“Daisy? She had a heart attack.”
“Brought on by finding a man in her wardrobe.”
“He was obviously a burglar. As I heard it, she returned home unexpectedly, ahead of schedule. She was supposed to be filming next morning, but they added the scene at the end of the day so she could get away. She was found dead in her bedroom and there was evidence of a break-in. Someone had hidden in the wardrobe and disarranged things. The police found her jewellery box in the garden. Nothing in it, of course.”
“Just a very unfortunate incident, then,” Ingeborg said, “but how did the burglar know Daisy was supposed to be away filming? It suggests he’d seen the call sheet.”
Sabine shuddered. “That’s a horrible thought. It means...” She didn’t finish the statement.
Diamond was ready to move on. “One other thing the paper wrote is that the person originally picked to play the part of Caitlin Swift pulled out unexpectedly.”
Sabine shook her head. “They drag in everything they can. You can’t compare that with the accidents that happened.”
“How did it come about?”
“Do you really need to know?”
“Please.”
Before saying any more, she loosened the towel, shook her damp hair, bunched it again and secured it, as if she needed time to decide how she would tell the story.
“As Mary told it to me, they weren’t looking for a name. They were confident that the punchy storyline with a female lead — a gal with crime in mind — would sell the series. They wanted a young actor with experience, but they weren’t pitching for a star. She had to have the kind of face people find attractive, obviously, and be physically strong. They cast Trixie Playfair, who had done some bit parts on Heartbeat and other things. I don’t suppose you’ve heard of her.”
Diamond would have shaken his head whatever the truth was.
“I was told she signed the contract and the pilot was written and everyone was happy and then in rehearsal she threw in a bombshell saying she wasn’t ready for a major role. Amazing. I thought it was everyone’s ambition to star in a TV series, but she panicked, poor woman.”
“And they found you instead?”
“Very quickly. I was on the original shortlist. I’d already auditioned for the part — the same day as Trixie and some others.”
“You met Trixie, then?”
“If you can call it that: taller than me, athletic, fussed with her hair a lot. I wouldn’t say we got to know each other. A few words while we sat waiting our turn to read the lines. Auditioning is a necessary evil. You’re not going to open up with someone who might beat you to the part.”