The Best Horror of the Year. Volume 4

Franz walked in to the room Jerry called his office. It resembled an office in as much as it contained a large desk covered with a certain amount of paper and a typewriter. Jerry called himself an ‘old-fashioned’ writer. He claimed to despise computers and people who used them and was proud of his antiquated method of producing his and Murdock’s scripts. As far as Franz could remember, Murdock transferred the finished script to respectable Word form, but Jerry was not supposed to be aware of that. Murdock was not present but Franz thought he could detect the faint smell of the man’s horrible cigars hanging in the air.

Jerry was sitting in a wheelchair near the window. The heavy curtains were drawn and the only light in the room came from a big lamp hanging over the desk.

Franz said, “What have you been up to Jerry?”

“Not a lot. We’ve just about put the new series to bed, I’m pleased to say.”

“You didn’t invite — summon — me here to tell me that.”

“True enough. I’d forgotten what an extremely no-nonsense sort of person you were Franz. Forgive my attempted polite small talk.”

“Barbara thinks you’ve got a problem.”

“Hum. Well, it’s not exactly a problem. One that you might be able to solve, that is.”

“What is it then?”

“Something inexplicable, Franz.”

“Go on then, astonish me.”

“Okay. Murdock has gone missing.”

“He’s walked out on you? Doesn’t surprise me at all, you can be a pain in the neck at times, as I’m sure you’re aware. I’m surprised that the working relationship has lasted so long. He’s probably had enough or too much of you. Needs a break. I expect he’ll turn up in his own good time.”

“I fear not.”

“Why?”

“The circumstances of his disappearance were… peculiar.”

For some reason Franz found this funny. He laughed then said, “Just what exactly is on your mind, Jerry. Do you want me to go and look for him?”

“No, that may not be necessary, but I’d like your opinion. Just let me explain.”

“Do, by all means.”

Jerry put his hands together in a prayerful attitude, tapped his fingers together one by one, than hauled his wheelchair round so it was exactly facing Franz. Franz supposed he was attempting to appear relaxed, but he had the same mildly embarrassed expression on his face that Franz had seen on his sister’s face a few minutes earlier.

He said, “I assume you know how we work together, Murdock and I?”

Franz had watched an episode of the comedy Murdock and Jerry were responsible for, Dead Funny Ted, set in a funeral parlor run by a doddering old fool called Edward and set in a picturesque seaside town populated almost entirely by elderly people. He had found it gormless and not the least bit funny, but he didn’t think it necessary to tell Jerry that. Besides, the public were supposed to love it. Instead he said, “I read something somewhere, in one of the TV Sunday supplements I guess, how you work as a team. About how you read the papers together in the morning in search of ideas then get down to work in the afternoon.”

Jerry nodded, “Murdock enjoys what he calls ‘our daily disaster sessions’. Always seems to be something terrible happening somewhere. You have to laugh.”

“I believe it mentioned something about that too.”

Jerry permitted himself an uneasy smile of satisfaction on hearing this. “That’s right. That gets us going. Anyway, we both have our different roles. I provide the plots and situations and Murdock handles the characterization and dialogue. Believe it or not, he’s good at jokes. Or, rather, a humorous turn of phrase. Myself, I’m less so.”

Jerry paused as though he expected Franz to make some comment. Franz didn’t so Jerry continued, “It always worked well enough for both of us. We were just about finishing up on our fifth series, you know.”

“I didn’t.”

“Yes, it’s been what you might call a runaway success.”

“That’s very good.”

“We were working on putting the finishing touches to the last episode a few days ago. Murdock was going through his paces, speaking every character’s part aloud, as he has always insisted on doing, searching about for the humor in the situation we’ve reached in the script. I had turned my chair away from him and wheeled it up to the window for some fresh air. My lungs and heart, as you know, are not good, especially in the presence of Murdock’s cigar smoke.”

“I don’t know how or why you stand it.”

“As I said, we have to work as a team, all for one and one for all. Murdock says he can’t think without a smoke and we each need the support of the other. It’s the way we get things done.”

“Humm. It once occurred to me that he uses those particularly pungent cigars to hide another more personal smell.”

“Barbara told me she sometimes has the same suspicions. She keeps her distance.”

Franz, resisting the temptation to yawn, said, “Anyway, carry on.”

“It’s going to be a bit tricky explaining the next bit. Barbara, usually so sympathetic, can’t follow me at all after this point. Anyway, see what you think.”

“You had your back to Murdock and you were looking out of the window.”