talent,” Eugenia pointed out. “She’s limited, of
course.”
“You mean because of her race?” There was steel in
Winifred’s voice.
“No,” Eugenia replied, “I’m referring to her acting
range. And her looks, which have nothing to do with
the fact that she’s half Chinese.”
“You meant race,” Winifred accused. “It always
comes down to race, doesn’t it?”
“For you, apparently,” Eugenia snapped. “I often
find that different-colored skin is also very thin.”
Judith and Renie exchanged pained expressions.
“That’s not true!” Winifred cried. “But can you argue
that Hollywood has always been fair to minorities?”
“Certainly not,” Eugenia said in a self-righteous
tone. “But look at you. You’ve managed to claw your
way up to the top. Of course some would say you used
more than your brains to get there. I wouldn’t use
Winifred Best and ethics in the same sentence.”
“Ethics? What have ethics got to do with this business?” Winifred demanded.
“You know perfectly well what I mean,” Eugenia
asserted. “A certain lack of ethics is one thing, but
criminal means are—”
“Ladies!” a masculine voice cut in. “Please! I can’t
stand any more of this quarreling. I’m trying to rest.”
Renie mouthed “Morris?” at Judith, who nodded.
“He’s in Room Five,” she whispered. “He’s sharing
SILVER SCREAM
287
with Chips. The bathroom connects between Five and
Six, remember?”
“This whole situation is intolerable,” Winifred declared. “Do you both realize that all three of us are out
of a job?”
“No, we’re not,” Morris replied. “I work for the studio as well as for Bruno. Eugenia has other clients. As
for you, Win, someone will have to stay at the helm of
Bruno’s production company at least for a while. Who
knows? His children may want to keep the company
going.”
“No, they won’t,” Winifred asserted. “I know them.
They’re utterly irresponsible. They couldn’t run a convenience store.”
“Win’s right,” Eugenia conceded. “Besides, there’s
the problem of bailing out The Gasman. It may prove
very complicated, not to mention the harm done to
Bruno’s reputation.”
A door opened in the corridor. Judith and Renie
both jumped as they turned around to see who had
caught them eavesdropping.
It was Joe, coming from the family quarters. “Jeez,”
he said in a low but vexed voice, “could you be more
obvious?”
Judith gave her husband a sheepish look. “Okay,
we’re done here anyway. But this is how we sleuth.”
“Unprofessional,” Joe murmured, heading for the
back stairs. “I’m going to lock up for the night. It’s ten
o’clock straight up.”
Judith glanced at her watch as the cousins followed
Joe downstairs. “You’re right. I suppose they’re still
watching the movie in the living room.”
288
Mary Daheim
“I suppose,” Joe said. “It was scheduled to run until
eleven.”
“I should go home,” Renie declared as they reached
the main floor.
“Don’t,” Judith urged as she saw the computer printouts on the kitchen counter. “We never had a chance to
go over the material you found on The Gasman and its
origins.”
“Oh. Well . . . sure.” Renie began sorting the pages
as Joe headed for the front door to lock up.
A terrified scream erupted from that vicinity, causing Renie to drop several sheets on the floor. But the
exclamation of “Wow!” followed by “Way cool, Ben!”
from Ellie and a couple of masculine chuckles indicated that the scream had come from another hapless
movie victim.
Judith heard Joe say something to the guests that
she couldn’t quite make out. A moment later he was
back in the kitchen. “Everybody’s here except Dade,”
he said. “He has a key, right?”
“He should,” Judith said. “That’s odd. Has he been
back since they all left Capri’s?”
“Chips said he hasn’t,” Joe replied, removing a can
of beer from the fridge. “Dade arrived here with some
of the others, but never came in the house.”
“Typical,” Judith remarked, “though why he’d want
to walk around on such a foggy, windy night is beyond
me.”
“The wind’s blowing the fog away,” Joe said, then
yawned. “I’m going to watch Sports Center and head
for bed. It’s been a long day. In fact, it’s been a long
weekend.” He kissed Judith, gave Renie a hug, and
headed back upstairs.
SILVER SCREAM
289
“I’m organized,” Renie announced. “I’ve skimmed
some of this stuff, especially Bruno’s filmmaker’s approach to the narrative. Naturally, he sounds like a genius.”
The cousins sat down at the kitchen table. More
screams could be heard from the living room.
“Wouldn’t you think they must have killed off most of
the cast by now?” Judith murmured.
“We wish,” Renie remarked, underlining points of
interest with a red pen. “Dade should be writing a
movie about what happened after this crew arrived at
the B&B. Who needs spooky London streets or the
human race’s time line?” She paused, shuffling some
papers. “Okay, here’s some information on C. Douglas
Carp.”
“Crappy Pappy Carp,” Judith said suddenly. “That’s
what Dirk Farrar called him.”
“You can call him Pappy, you can call him Crappy,
you can even call him Sappy,” Renie said, handing two
pages of underlined information to Judith, “but don’t
call him Slaphappy. Carp was a diligent scholar of
some repute. He wrote The Gasman when he was
twenty-two.”
“Goodness,” Judith responded. “That’s impressive.”
“It may account for why my father read the damned
thing,” Renie noted. “Dad was probably swayed by
Carp’s credentials.” She flipped through a few more
pages. “This is what I found on Carp himself. I haven’t
read it yet. Shall I read to you?”
“You can also carry me up to bed and tuck me in.”
Judith sighed. “I’m not sure I can get up those two
flights of stairs again.”
Renie offered her cousin a sympathetic smile. “You
290
Mary Daheim
should put an elevator in this place. And not for the
guests.” She cleared her throat and adjusted her muchabused glasses. “Carson Douglas Carp was born in
Cedar Falls, Iowa, in 1907, the son of Louis Franklin
Carp and Annabelle Ernestine Carp (née Morgan). An
outstanding student, Carp began his epic novel of civ-
ilization, The Gasman, while still attending Northern
Iowa State Teachers College. While Carp’s fictional
style has been criticized by some as tedious, pedantic,
and maladroit, his meticulous attention to historical
detail and his accuracy have merited praise from oth-