Joint Enterprise (The Romney and Marsh Files Book 3) by Oliver Tidy

animal , clearly disturbed by the director’s attentions, had voided its bowels and its bladder in response and defence of its virtue. Crawford swore and someone rushed to him with a towel. He fussed at his trousers for a moment and then looking around the assembled throng for someone spied the police. It clearly didn’t please him.
    ‘Get set everyone,’ he called. ‘We’ll be going in five.’ He strode over to where Romney and Marsh stood, while everyone else involved themselves in their duties behind him. ‘What do you want, Inspector?’ He was glowering, no doubt expecting some smart remark. Romney didn’t disappoint him.
    ‘I can see you’re a busy man, Mr Crawford,’ said Romney politely. ‘When they said that you were working on an interior scene I didn’t quite understand exactly what they meant.’ He obviously liked this little attempt at humour enough to run it out again. He went on quickly. ‘Just a couple of questions about last night when you’ve got a minute.’
    Crawford regarded him coldly. ‘A minute? I have one minute now. Ask what you need to and then I would be happy if you would leave. I have work to do.’
    ‘You look very comfortable with the ewe there. Did you grow up on a farm?’
    Oh no, thought, Marsh. Please don’t.
    ‘I beg your pardon. What has that got to do with anything that happened yesterday?’
    ‘Just making conversation, Mr Crawford. Showing an interest in what you’re doing here.’
    ‘Will you just ask your questions, please?’
    Romney affected hurt. ‘Who stands to gain if this project is ruined? If it’s, let’s say, sabotaged beyond recovery? If it can’t be finished?’
    Now, Crawford looked completely bewildered. ‘What are you driving at? No one would stand to gain. Everything would be lost.’
    ‘What I mean is, is a production like this insured? Does insurance get taken out by a production company so that in the event they pour hundreds of thousands, if not millions of pounds, into a project and it, for whatever reason, cannot get finished, then they are insured against their losses.’
    The question left Marsh and Crawford equally stunned. It was so unexpected, so left-field as to be almost out of bounds.
    When Crawford had recovered himself he said, ‘Do you mind telling me what you are driving at, Inspector?’
    ‘Mr Crawford, our investigation must consider all aspects of an enquiry. I’m merely wondering if it would be in anyone’s interest to have this project halted in its tracks for whatever reason. It’s an avenue I feel we must consider if only so we can rule it out.’
    ‘Of course we are insured,’ said Crawford. The irritation in his tone had been replaced by something more reasonable.
    ‘Thank you. That answers that. Being a director is all about reputation, am I right? Churn out a duffer or two and it might be difficult to get further commissions, yes?’
    ‘That’s one way of looking at it. Is it relevant to the here and now, or are you just making conversation again?’
    ‘It could be. Last question: as the director would it be fair to say that reputation wise you have the most to win or lose on a filming project?’
    ‘That could be argued, why?’
    ‘Well, if you had an enemy, someone who harboured a professional jealousy, a rival in the industry, or even on the set, who wanted to see you come unstuck – throw a spanner in the works of your career – then sabotaging your project would accomplish that, wouldn’t it? It could certainly do harm?’
    ‘Yes. It could certainly do harm. But I don’t have those kinds of jealous rivals. And as I tried to explain to you last night , everyone working on this set is focussed towards one end and one end only – making the best film we can together.’
    ‘Bear it in mind though, eh?’
    A young girl clipboard in hand shuffled over. ‘I’ve been asked to let you know that the sheep are getting restless, Hugo,’ she said.
    ‘Restless or nervous,’ said Romney, flashing