Simon Brett - Dead Giveaway

‘Right. Three names, then. Three who had the opportunity.’ Charles mused. ‘Of course, we’ve limited it enormously. We’ve only dealt with the ones directly concerned with the show. I mean, there are so many people around a television studio. It could have been any of them. Even someone working on a different programme. .’

‘Like Chippy was. .’ said Chita.

But Sydnee wasn’t going to let them get depressed by logistics. ‘We’ve got to start somewhere,’ she pronounced. ‘Now, next thing we ought to think about motives.’

‘I’ll tell you who had the biggest motive,’ said Quentin. ‘Those two Americans. You know, the one who kept talking about “making a pot” and his tall, quiet friend. They were convinced that Barrett was ruining their precious show.’

‘Did they have the opportunity?’

Quentin shook his head wistfully. ‘Sorry, Charles. They spent the whole of the meal-break bending John Mantle’s ear in the bar. Lots of witnesses for that.’

‘What about the other three then, the ones on the list? How’re we doing for motive there?’

Sydnee took over. ‘Well, no one liked Barrett much. We know that. But who disliked him enough to murder him?. . that’s a different question. What does drive someone to murder? Presumably it varies from person to person. I mean, Barrett really humiliated Trish.’

‘You mean that business about her. . her blouse?’

‘Yes. He reduced her to tears in front of everyone. And she didn’t seem to me to be the sort who cries easily.’

‘A lot of women would take that pretty hard. Whether hard enough to commit murder. . I don’t know.’

‘Won’t dismiss it out of hand. What about the other contestant?’

‘Tim Dyer’s different. He was just totally obsessed by winning. And I mean obsessed. He’s been on the phone every day since the recording.’

‘About what?’

‘About the car. What he describes as his bloody car. He maintains that the crown had definitely stopped over his head at the end of the Hats In The Ring finale, and that, regardless of the fact that Barrett Doran was at that moment dying, the Austin Metro should be his. W.E.T., in the person of John Mantle, takes a different view.’

‘I’m not surprised. But do you reckon he had any motive against Barrett?’

‘He was certainly extremely angry when Barrett paired him with Fiona Wakeford for Round One. He didn’t reckon she would be much help to him.’

‘One can see his point,’ Quentin murmured.

‘But whether you’d murder someone for that. .’

Charles shrugged. ‘As you say, he was obsessed. Depends on the depth of his obsession, I suppose. What about Bob Garston?’

‘I don’t think he liked Barrett,’ Sydnee replied, ‘but then who did? There was also, I suppose, a professional rivalry.’

‘Oh?’

‘Bob was considered for the job.’

‘Hosting the show?’

‘Yes.’

‘And he knew that?’

‘’Fraid so. He shouldn’t have done, but he did. Casting Director was a little indiscreet with his agent when checking availability.’

‘And would he have wanted it?’

‘I think so.’

‘Course he would, Sydnee,’ said Quentin. ‘Just the sort of break he needs. Lose the “reporter” tag. Become a “personality”. A future of infinite chat-shows. He’d love it.’

‘And, of course, he may yet get it,’ said Chita.

‘How do you mean?’

‘There’s a reasonable chance he’ll be booked as host on the second pilot.’

‘Is there going to be a second pilot?’

‘You bet,’ Sydnee replied. ‘W.E.T. shelled out a lot for the rights in that show. They’re not going to let something minor like a murder stop them from capitalising on it.’

Charles bit back the actor’s instinctive question (‘If there is a second pilot, am I likely to be booked again?’), and said, ‘So he stood to gain very directly from Barrett’s death. We should definitely investigate Bob Garston.’

‘Him first?’

‘I’m not sure. I think we should try and see all three of them. Who’s going to be the easiest to get in touch with?’

Sydnee laughed. ‘Tim Dyer. He’s desperate for someone to go and talk to him about his bloody car.’

Charles Paris grinned round at his research team. ‘Then maybe we should start with Tim Dyer.’

Sydnee drove an old red MG Midget, fast. The hood was up, against the autumn weather, and she and Charles travelled in their noisy cocoon out along the A3 towards Petersfield, where their first suspect lived.

‘Are you sure he’s not going to think it odd, me coming along with you?’ asked Charles.

‘I don’t think he’ll give it a second thought. The only thing on his mind is that bloody Austin Metro.’

‘Is that what you said you wanted to talk about when you rang?’

‘No, I didn’t say it, but I think that’s the way he took it. Wouldn’t occur to him that there was anything else to talk about.’

‘Could be the second pilot.’

‘Could be, I suppose. Though, if the truth were known, he’s very unlikely to be involved in that.’

‘Oh?’

‘It’s a matter of research time. It’s difficult getting contestants, but it was more difficult setting up the rest of the programme. Probably be better to leave all that intact and just slot in four new contestants.’

‘What, leave the rest of the show just as it was?’ asked Charles, scenting another booking.

‘Yes. Assuming the powers-that-be don’t want major changes in the format.’

‘Are they likely to?’

‘Who can say? John Mantle and the American copyright holders are watching the tape through today.’

Charles grimaced. ‘Fairly grisly experience.’

‘Only the end. Up to there the show ran as it should. Very few recording breaks, it was fine. John Mantle won’t waste the recording. I mean, for him it’ll be great, having the luxury of a second pilot. Another bite of the cherry, a chance to make sure it’s all dead right.’

Charles winced. ‘ Dead right.’

‘Sorry.’

‘Has it been decided yet whether Bob Garston will host it second time around?’

‘Not definitely, no. I think it’s a strong possibility.’

‘Hmm.’ Charles fell silent, his mind circling round the murder, round the possible motives and opportunities of its perpetrator.

They reached the outskirts of Petersfield. ‘Could you reach into my handbag? There’s a sheet of W.E.T. notepaper where I wrote down the directions he gave me on the phone.’

Charles complied and guided Sydnee towards their quarry. ‘What does he do?’ he asked, as they turned into the road where Tim Dyer lived.

‘He said on his form that he was a computer programmer.’

‘You sound sceptical.’

‘Yes. Just something about him sounds warning bells. Also, he said he’d be at home any time I cared to call.’

‘You mean you don’t think he has a job?’

‘Wouldn’t surprise me.’

‘One of the unemployment figures? Made redundant, and too proud to admit it?’

‘Possible.’ She didn’t sound convinced. ‘Except that computers are one of our few boom industries. Wouldn’t imagine there are that many redundant programmers.’

‘So what do you think?’

‘I think he may have slipped through our net. I think he claimed to have a job just to put us off the scent.’

‘I’m still not with you.’

‘I rather suspect that Tim Dyer is one of those characters who all researchers try to spot and weed out. If I’m right, I’ll kick myself for not having recognised it earlier.’

Charles was mystified. ‘What sort of character?’