The Unholy

A lot of blood.

Madison found herself turning away from Myra Sue’s one sightless eye.

“Fire door is still in the back, right?” Sean asked her.

She nodded. “Between these guys and the Planet Mondo air creatures over there,” she said, pointing to the door. There was a large sign that said Fire Door, but it was partially obstructed by the wings of one of the Planet Mondo air creatures.

“Hasn’t changed much,” Sean said. He nodded to one of the giant robots across the workstations, beside the climate control room. “I worked on Hugoman. He’s been here awhile.”

“Really? He’s fantastic. And I love the movie!” Madison said. She did love the creature in the movie Hugoman. He was the invention of a mad scientist who’d given him his son’s personality through partial cloning; the massive machinelike creature was kind and fought only to save lives. Of course, he’d been misunderstood, and when he’d saved the community from an attack by mutant creatures, he had died—a moral about judging people, or creatures, on appearances. Hugoman had actually been low-budget and promoted as an action/monster flick, but it had been extremely well written and had become a cult classic.

She flushed; they were here because of a murder, and because someone they both cared about had been accused of that murder. And yet, she wasn’t sure why they were just touring the studio. The murder hadn’t taken place in the studio; it had happened in the museum tunnel.

He wasn’t appalled by her sudden enthusiasm; he smiled at her. “Thanks. I loved working here. I needed to go back to Texas for a bit, and then…then you get swept up in life, so I wound up staying and working there. But I did love the time I spent here, working for Eddie Archer. I was proud that we helped create a cult classic on a budget.” His tone became businesslike. “So, as far as I know, that’s our fire door on this side of the building downstairs, and we have another over by the offices?”

It took her a second to follow his quick change of subject, but she managed not to blink.

“To the best of my knowledge, yes,” she told him. “And there are corresponding exits upstairs, with ladders in case of fire. Eddie’s always been very careful, dealing with some of the flammable materials as we do.”

Sean nodded. “Okay, what’s going on in the shop. What are you working on right now?”

“Don’t you know?” she asked.

“No, I don’t.”

“It’s kind of ironic. We’re working on a remake of Sam Stone and the Curious Case of the Egyptian Museum. It’s updated, and it’s been retitled The Unholy. The script is really good—and different enough to make this a different movie. From what I’ve seen so far, I’d compare it to Disturbing Behavior, which was, in essence, a remake of Hitchcock’s Rear Window.”

Sean frowned. “A remake of the movie—and Jenny was killed in front of the tableau?”

“Yes.”

“That’s not just ironic,” he told her. “That sounds intentional. And it changes everything.”

“The original movie was filmed well over half a century ago. What could this have to do with the movie we’re making now?”

“Everything,” he said curtly. “It could be a motive for murder. And lockdown—that’s incredibly important, too. Lockdown should eliminate anyone who isn’t close to the studio.”

Madison spoke through clenched jaws. She wasn’t in the FBI or the police; she wasn’t required to understand motive and investigation. “Even when we’re not in lockdown, the curious can’t just wander in. I have to have permission to bring in a guest on a regular day, and I wouldn’t have been given permission at all now.”

“Well, there’s permission, and there’s giving yourself permission by dodging the rules. On a regular day, someone could try to slip someone else in.”

“What about the security cameras, Sean? People here don’t want to risk their jobs.”

“Of course not. Still…”

He walked toward the climate-controlled room, but looked through the windows for a moment, and never tried the door. He seemed uninterested.

“Where’s your workstation?” he asked her.

Her work area was a few feet from the climate-controlled area. She pointed it out to him, and he went over to it.

It seemed bizarre that everything was just where she’d left it on Friday night. There were pieces of the leather coat she’d chosen for the costume of actor Oliver Marshall, playing antihero Sam Stone in the new movie.

“I saw the movie as a kid. But refresh me,” Sean said.

What did this have to do with the murder?

“In a nutshell? There are a series of murders—people ripped to shreds by something in the night. Then an incredibly wealthy philanthropist with a gorgeous young wife is found murdered in a similar manner in his Egyptian Museum. The cops want to arrest the wife, so she goes to Sam Stone. Various clues suggest she’s the murderer, but she denies it. The movie is great because it leaves the audience wondering—was something supernatural happening, or could it all be explained? The Egyptian mummy supposedly sent from the Department of Antiquities turns out to be a priest heading an ancient cult and in the end, needless to say, he proves to be the murderer. Sam Stone falls in love with the wife—Dianna Breen—but she dies at the hand of the priest before she’s proven innocent.”

“Who’s playing Sam Stone?” Sean asked.

“Oliver Marshall.”

“Hmm. How is he to work with?”

“He’s fine. He’s always in the tabloids for being a party boy, but he’s polite and courteous, shows up for his fittings and works well with everyone behind the scenes. He’s very pleasant and makes everyone at the studio think he’s just one of the gang. I like him.”

“Good to hear. When’s the last time he was in?”

“Friday. I was working on his costume.” She gestured at the fabric on the table. “He was in for fittings. Sam Stone carries concealed weapons, so everything about the costume has to fit perfectly.”

“Those…creatures evoked by the Egyptian priest—what’s his name?” Sean pointed to some of their newest creations, including giant fanged jackals, birds and bizarre giant snakes.

“The priest is Amun Mopat, and yes, they’re for the movie.”

“What will the priest be wearing? Same type of costume as in the film noir?” Sean asked. “And who’s playing him?”

“That role hasn’t been cast yet,” Madison told him. “There’s a mannequin over by the wall with a mock-up of the robe he’ll be wearing. It’s an homage to the original film. Almost exactly the same.”

“Where? Show me.”

Madison walked over to the mannequin that stood behind one of the jackal-like monsters created for the movie.

There was nothing but a plain brown monk’s robe on it.

She looked at Sean as shivers of fear streaked down her spine.

“The robe—it was just a mock-up. But it’s gone,” she said. “I suppose someone might have taken it…. Mike Greenwood could have shown it to someone. I’ll ask Mike and Eddie where it is.”

Sean shook his head. “They won’t know—and the robe isn’t coming back. It’s been used,” he said grimly, “by the killer.” He turned to look at her. “Find that robe, and we’ll be on our way to finding a killer.”

3

“Hey!” Sean touched her cheek. “This is a good thing. Seeing that the robe is gone actually helps. I’m almost astounded that everyone assumes it was Alistair, to tell you the truth. The girl was killed in front of the Sam Stone tableau, the studio is doing a remake, the robe is gone. To me, all of that points to someone with an agenda against the studio or the movie.”

Madison nodded. But she didn’t agree that the robe’s disappearance was a good thing! A killer had been here, where she worked. A killer had used the robe she’d made to sneak onto a tableau or into the tunnel and slice open a young woman’s throat.

Sean turned her to face the construction area. “What are they working on here?” he asked.