This is really not necessary,” said Eva, sitting in her monogrammed actor’s chair with Amanda’s handcuffs secured around her wrists.
“It’s just to protect us all from getting hurt,” said Amanda. “It seems that tempers have been flaring up here, and I don’t want to take any chances.”
“No, I mean I could beat the piss out of each and every one of you with or without the handcuffs. They’re quite pointless,” explained Eva.
“It’s true,” added William. “She has a ridiculous amount of martial arts training. Early in her acting career, she had some small roles in Japanese films.”
“I always do my best with whatever roles I’m given,” said Eva. “Even in Jackie Chan movies.”
“That’s great,” said Doyle. “But let’s delve right in and get to some answers. Why are you here?”
“I’m acting in this film,” Eva said. “See the back of my chair?”
“‘Wong,’“ read Amanda. “You changed your name from ‘Wright’ to ‘Wong’?”
“Not exactly,” Eva said. “Eva Wong is the name I used in martial arts films. I figured I may as well keep the stage name, even if no one recognizes it. Besides, I thought it might be slightly harder for my deranged ex-husband to find me if I used a name other than ‘Wright.’”
Doyle drew his attention to William. “You never tried tracking her down by her stage name?” he asked.
“I did,” said William. “Several times, without success. Despite constant web research, I was always directed to promotional websites for films like Kung-Fu Kangaroo and Discontent in the Orient. I couldn’t find her location.”
“How long were you looking for me?” asked Eva.
“Two long years,” said William. “I was about ready throw in the proverbial towel when you called me.”
“You called him?” asked Doyle.
“Yes, about the accident. Murder. Whatever it was,” said Eva, grimly. “Despite my strong desire to stay away from him, when I saw that unfortunate man lose the contents of his head, I knew I had to call William.
Even though he has many problems, he’s an extremely gifted detective.”
“Thank you,” said William.
Amanda cleared her throat. “It’s really sweet that you two are being so complimentary to each other, but why exactly were you fighting a few minutes ago? Jeez, I thought you were going to crash into every expensive movie doohickey in this park.”
William shrugged. “I suppose I can take some blame for that. Eva apparently used her actress voice to leave a somewhat cryptic message on my phone. I could hardly bring myself to believe it was actually her. But when I arrived here and saw her, well I just sort of—“
“Turned into a raving lunatic,” said Eva. “This is exactly why I left him. He’s a very good man, but has trouble controlling his emotions. It was the worst when he was working on all those horrible cases.”
“What sort of cases?” asked Amanda.
“I was a specialist in serial murderers,” said William. “It was a dark time in my life, and one I don’t make a habit of discussing.” William turned to Doyle. “Maybe I’ll fill you in more as time goes on, but for now, let’s focus on the current situation, yes?”
Doyle nodded. Doyle didn’t do well around blood or bodies, and he imagined that William had intentionally withheld stories that may have grossed him out. Doyle felt appreciation for that, as well as a lingering curiosity in spite of himself.
“I still don’t quite understand,” said Amanda. “William, when you got here, did you attack Eva? What happened?”
“I didn’t attack her,” said William.
“Yes, you did,” said Eva. “He put his arms around me and wouldn’t stop bawling. He was like a child who dropped his ice cream cone. It was disturbing, to say the least.”
William lowered his head. “I just miss you.”
“He wouldn’t let go of me, so I had to aim for the nuggets,” she said.
“She did,” said William. “Trust me when I say that our relationship used to be quite wonderful. All this bullock-smashing seems to be a new trait that I’m not well acquainted with.”
“I can explain that,” she said. “I was used to having a policeman with me at all times. Once I found the need to be on my own, I took some self-defense courses. They were fabulous. It was like Ball-Punching 101.”
“I’m not sure we need to go much further with this,” said Amanda. “William, what have you done with the investigation so far? Have you interviewed Mr. Winthrop, the producer?”
“I haven’t done any investigating yet, I’m afraid,” said William. “I’ve been preoccupied.”
“When did you get here?” asked Doyle.
“Not more than a half-hour before you,” said William.
“So if you left as soon as you received the call, that would place the time of the murder approximately two and a half hours ago?” asked Amanda. William nodded. “Yes, I believe that is correct.”
“Well, we need to get started immediately, right Doyle?” Amanda suggested.
“Umm … right,” said Doyle, realizing he was seeing a side of Amanda that he couldn’t recall seeing before. She meant business. “I mean, yes indeed. Eva, you mentioned you were there when the murder took place. Can you tell us everything you witnessed?”
“I can, but I was rather engaged with the terribly-written script when everything happened. I really only saw the … well, the final result, I guess,” she said.
“Okay, who’s best able to fill us in and get us up to speed? Mr. Winthrop, maybe?”
“No, he wasn’t even on set,” said Eva. “I’d speak to either Chip Anderson or Tina Callahan. Chip is the fellow who does the special effects, and Tina is the make-up artist. They were both right there when it happened. You can also talk to the director, Maura Coen, but she’s …unpleasant.”
Amanda wrote the names down in a notebook. “Got it,” she said.
William cleared his throat. “Pardon, but what about the gentleman who shot Davis in the forehead?”
“Mike Cameron,” said Eva. “The ambulance took him to the hospital to get checked out. As soon as he realized what happened, he hit the ground like a sack of potatoes.”
“I see,” said William.
“We’ll check him out later,” said Amanda.
“By the way, Ms. Wong,” said Doyle. “William mentioned on the phone to me that this film is called First Kiss for Frances. Is that really the title, or is it a cover-up for a different movie? I know filmmakers have the tendency of concealing the true name of a film for security purposes.”
“You’re a smart man, Detective. No, it’s not called First Kiss for
Frances.”
“Then what is it?” asked Doyle, his eyebrow cocked.
Eva held up her handcuffed wrists. “First?”
Doyle looked at Amanda and gave her the thumbs up.
“Fine,” Amanda said. “But please stay under control, even if William gets under your skin.”
“I’ll behave, dear,” said Eva.
Amanda unlocked Eva’s cuffs and removed them.
Eva rubbed her wrists before reaching under her bottom and picking up her copy of the script and handing it to Doyle.
“Here it is,” she said.
Doyle read the title.
“Fargo II: Midwest Boogaloo,” read Doyle. He looked at the faces surrounding him. “God help us all.”