7c6cdd7d45cb035b54aafd3ac9eb9cc8

“So you wanted to know what I thought of this whole thing,” Miss Power said, nodding. “Well, as you may or may not know I’ve retired from the movie business many years ago, and have kept myself to myself ever since. I don’t go out, I don’t meet people, so unfortunately I never had the pleasure of meeting either Mr. Goory or Mr. Warner or this young woman who died. If I had I could perhaps have offered you my opinion. What I can say is that for some reason or other my work has always inspired a great deal of excitement—rightly or wrongly, I leave that to others to decide. Men have fought over me, especially when I was younger, women have fought with me, especially the women who were married to these same men.” She smiled. “I find it hard to believe that now, a little over a decade after I retired, people are still capable of getting worked up over my legacy—the modestbody of work I left behind.”

“So you think that’s what this is?” asked Odelia. “People getting all worked up and even going so far as to resort to murder?”

Miss Power lifted her shoulders in a shrug.“I don’t know how else to explain it. One woman presumably had some objects to sell, and the president of the Gnomeos—silly name, if you ask me, by the way—killed her, presumably because he didn’t want to pay what she was asking. And then the president of one fan club killed the presidentof another fan club, possibly because of some argument over who was my most devoted fan. Frankly it doesn’t surprise me. I’ve seen people act even more viciously over my perceived talents.”

She gazed out through the window for a moment, and Odelia had the impression she was thinking of one particular incident. As she remembered herself, Maria Power’s third husband had once struck a man he thought was her lover, and had rendered him unconscious in the process. There had even been a much-hyped trial at the time, damages demanded and awarded. Maybe the actress was right. Her presence had whipped people, both men and women, into a frenzy over the course of her long and illustrious career, and apparently her memory still possessed this power to this day.

“Do you keep up to date on the events organized to commemorate your career?” Odelia asked. “Like the retrospective at the Seabreeze Music Center?”

“No, I certainly don’t,” said Miss Power, returning to the present, her pale blue eyes losing that dreamlike quality and turning flinty. This was clearly a woman who’d been through a lot, and had had quite enough. So much so that she’d decided to turn her back on the world and lock herself up in her own home. Odelia wondered what kind of life she must have led to inspire such an ignoble finale. Probably no one would ever know.

“I was there last night,” Uncle Alec revealed. “Me and my girlfriend, both dressed up as gnomes.” He smiled at the memory.

Miss Power didn’t. “I really don’t understand this Gnomeo business,” she said. “I certainly never did anything to encourage being associated with that dreadful movie.”

“Oh, but by all accounts it must have been a great movie,” said Uncle Alec. “Rupert Finkelstein’s final film. Not a single copy having survived. It’s probably the most sought-after film in the history of cinema.”

“I can tell you there was nothing special about it,” said Miss Power, now looking thoroughly annoyed. “It was probably for the best that Rupert destroyed it. It was a terrible ordeal to make the movie and the result was in keeping with the experience.”

“It did establish you as a star,” Chase pointed out. He’d clearly been reading up on Miss Power’s career.

“Yes, that’s about the only positive aspect of the matter. Apart from that, I’d much rather forget about the whole thing—only those damned Gnomeos will never let me. I suppose I should be grateful, but I fail to see the point. Now if there’s nothing further…”

She got up, a clear indication the interview was over, as far as she was concerned.

“I’d like to thank you for your time,” said Uncle Alec, also getting up. “It’s been an honor. I’m a big fan,” he added, then took out his phone. “A selfie, maybe?”

But the look of disapproval on Miss Power’s face and the curt shake of the head soon made it clear there would be no selfies taken today—or any other day.

Five minutes later they’d all been ushered out, slightly reeling from the speed with which they’d been shown the door. It was clear that Maria Power was done with her own past, and she didn’t appreciate being dragged back to it.

“I don’t think she’s a fan of her own fan clubs,” said Chase, stating the obvious.

“No, she made that pretty clear,” said Odelia.

“Pity,” said Uncle Alec. “It would have been nice to welcome her as the guest of honor at the retrospective. It would be a big boost for the town. Charlene asked me specifically to pose the question, but I guess I’ll have to disappoint her.”

The prospect of Maria Power showing her famous face at a retrospective of her own work was an exciting one, but also, it now seemed, highly unlikely.