“You can add one more while you’re at it.”
“Who’s that?”
“She’s known as Chen and she’s Sabine’s sidekick, except you’d think twice about kicking her. A young woman capable of just about anything.” After the name was written in, Diamond said, “Do you want to put lines through the ones we just mentioned?”
“I’ll probably print a new list.”
“As you wish. Something else we could do with here is a schedule from the studio telling us where everyone is at any given time. It’s known as a call sheet. This week they’re filming at Milroy Court, out Trowbridge way, and that’s where I’m going next, but I don’t know who I’ll find there.”
He found everyone he needed. When he arrived, they were filming an exterior on the south-facing side of the house and a gathering of cast and crew was there to watch. An ancient wisteria with vines like petrified pythons grew up the side of the building attached to wires screwed into the structure. You could scarcely see the stonework, the plant was so abundant. Window spaces had been cut, but new shoots were already threatening to cover them over. The spring blooms had come and gone. There was a display of another kind.
One of the top windows was standing open and a naked man had climbed out and was clinging to the foliage. He looked young and fit, tanned and tattooed on the arms and legs, making his backside appear even more undressed than it was. A camera on the end of a jib was swinging about, getting close and then pulling back, controlled from the ground by someone who seemed to know what he was doing. Another camera on a dolly was at ground level and quite a collection of people stood nearby, some holding scripts.
Diamond joined a group standing out of shot observing the spectacle. Among them he had spotted one of his own, Paul Gilbert.
“What’s going on?”
“Hello, guv. It’s the bum shot.”
“I can see that.”
“There’s one in each episode, a kind of running joke the audience looks out for — half the audience, anyway. He’s supposed to be the handyman. The story goes that he’s having it away in bed with the daughter of the house when they are interrupted by Swift, who has come to crack the safe. This poor guy thinks he’s been caught in the act by one of the family and takes the only route out he can think of, which is the window. Luckily he’s able to hang on to the creepers.”
“He doesn’t look as if he can hold on much longer.”
“Tired, I expect. This is the third take of him hugging the tree. They want to get his position right.”
“What happens next?”
“That’s what I’m waiting to see.”
A track had been laid across the lawn, suggesting that the action wouldn’t end on the wisteria.
“Tell me who the people are.”
“The short one in the cap and white suit is George Spode, the director. The bearded guy beside him with the shades is Greg Deans.”
“The producer. I know him.”
“The bossy one wearing cans is the floor manager. I can’t tell you his name. The woman holding the script is the production assistant, Vicky.”
“Is Fergus there?”
“He’s the big fellow standing a bit to the right, near the dolly camera.”
“I want to meet him when this is done.”
The director seemed satisfied with the latest take. He cupped his hands and shouted something to the actor, who now started the tricky descent. Nobody was filming. They simply watched him go through the moves.
“I wouldn’t want to try that barefoot,” Diamond said.
“He’d look silly in shoes.”
“He doesn’t look clever without them.”
As soon as the young man was on the ground someone handed him a bathrobe while the director conferred with those around him, apparently deciding how the climb down could be improved. Creating an action scene was a painstaking process.
The actor was sent inside the house and appeared naked at the window again. Standing on the sill, he reached for the branches, swung across and trusted them to take his weight. This time he came down in a way that got more approval. But the sequence still hadn’t been filmed.
Diamond checked the time. He’d been here almost twenty minutes. The scene would take only a few seconds on screen.
The floor manager called for quiet and they went for a take. It didn’t satisfy the director. Without protest, the actor returned inside the house to repeat the whole manoeuvre.
“Action.”
In making the move from the window to the main vine, his foot slipped. Anxious gasps came from the watchers. For a moment he was hanging from outstretched arms. He squirmed, found a footing again and completed the descent.
“Is he a stuntman?” Diamond asked Gilbert.
“I was told he’s a jobbing actor brought in for the day. It’s only a small part.”
“I wouldn’t have said so.”
Gilbert grinned.
The film-makers seemed pleased by the stumble on the wisteria. They replayed it on the camera screen and decided another take wasn’t needed.
“Is that it? Can we see Fergus now?”
“You can try, guv. It looks like they’re taking a coffee break. Do you want me with you?”
“I do. He knows you already, but he hasn’t met me.”
They marched over the turf to where the big rigger was standing beside the track laid for another sequence. He was wearing a belt with tools attached to it like the bloodstained one Will Legat had acquired. One of the team had already fetched him a coffee.
“Watch out, lads,” he announced loudly to those around him. “It’s the stop and search squad.”
Diamond gave Fergus a sight of his ID. “This won’t take long. You know what we’re interested in.”
Fergus stabbed a finger in Gilbert’s direction. “I already opened my heart to PC Plod here.”
His cohorts grinned.
“Do you mind?” Diamond said to them. “I’d like a private conversation with Fergus.”
A tilt of the head from Fergus dismissed the team. He waited for them to move off and then said, “I told you all I know about the missing grip.”
“This isn’t just about Jake Nicol. You go back a long way with this show, don’t you? You were crewing with it from the start. I’ve seen your name on the call sheets. You must remember Dave Tudor, who was the assistant producer.”
“I’m a rigger. I can’t tell you jack shit about production people. I’m not on the Bottle Yard staff.”
“Don’t piss me about, Fergus. You talked to Tudor on a daily basis when he was with the show.”
“You think so?” He stalled, trying to come up with a smart answer. “He done all the talking.”
“He was with the show when it was launched and so were you.”
“He done his job and I done mine. I was just one of the lads then. I didn’t give orders.”
“You were going out with Candida Jones and she was a production assistant.”
He tensed. “Who told you that?”
“Never mind. You were closer to the production people than you want us to know. It’s no crime. I want straight answers now. What did you make of Tudor?”
The big man’s thoughts played across his face. A muscle rippled in his cheek. The mention of Candida had clearly caught him off guard. He couldn’t tell how much Diamond knew about the relationship. It made him willing, if not eager, to answer the question less close to home. “Tudor? He done his job like everyone else. Him and Mary went back a long way.”
“You mean professionally, not personally?”
“There was nothing like that. All I’m saying is he worked with her on other stuff.”
“The Robeson thing? Were you on that as well? Did you work with Mary Wroxeter before Swift was made?”
Each detail Diamond disclosed cut into Fergus’s defensive façade. The answer was written across his face before he made it with a shrug.