Well, in that case, Branwen -thanks a lot (light-headed grin)! But you totally blew my cover there, the spanish is only for the looks(and does look good), I don't have a clue if I'm doing it right but no one has said anything yet, that's good...
Liz thank you too. There won't be so much of backstage scenes but you can pick at those there may be, when they come, it isn't that much of a problem, or what...?
Chapter 4
Fenton, Steven and Maggie came running from the backstage, going pale at the sight.
Broken glass everywhere, the stage floor broken at three places -and lots of blood, the blood was spitting out of Claudia's broken leg. The bone came through the skin just under the knee and unfortunately she hadn't lost consciousness. She cried and yelled in pain and her body was shaking tremendously.
"Someone call 911!" Frank shouted.
Maggie actually took a moment just to roll her eyes before dialing the spaninsh emergency number from her cell phone.
Ramón was kneeling beside his sister, afraid to touch her but he mumbled hystericly in spanish, saying everything would be all right, whether to convince her or himself...suddenly he fainted and collapsed (the fall wasn't high, he was sitting).
20 minutes later an abulance with it's wailing sirens took the siblings to a hospital. The crew and staff were in shock.
Steven strode back and forth, chewing on his fingernails to the skin. He didn't stop until Bill grabbed his arm and literally held him still. After a few seconds he had gained most of his self control.
"Back to work!" he hissed and glanced at Fenton. The two of them went back to the haliway followed by Bill.
The guys in the stage crew dug their hands into their hair and looked sadly at the wrecked stage. "Oh, maldición..." one of them cursed, Frank and Joe knew him back as the first guy they had questioned, the one who was working with the camera in the ceiling.
"Well, I...I guess we had better start cleaning up here..." Joe said.
Maggie put her arms around the stage guy from behind. "Let's take a tiny little break, huh?" she said, "Come on, Marco, you have a smoke?"
Marco tilted his head to the side to look at her. "We were supposed to finish the stage today and now we'll never finish in time for the show," he said bitterly.
"It'll work."
"Yeah, with a miracle, it will."
"No, by getting started it will," Frank said and jumped up on the stage.
"Beware of the glass," someone warned him.
"Get off the stage, Frank!" Fenton's voice came from the saloon's entrance. Frank obeyed, not too eagerly though. Fenton, Steven, Bill, José Moneo and four more police officers came to the stage. The cops went on the stage to take a closer look at the ladder Claudia had fallen from.
Steven looked over his crew that had gathered by the stage. "As you've probably all figured out by now, you will have to do an overtime -over-night-time, really..."
Nobody said anything. Like he said, they all knew. It was their third thought. After 'what the hell happened' and 'is she alive?'
Steven forced a smile on his face. "Hey, cheer up, it'll raise your salaries."
People actually chuckled a little at this.
"Call home, let your families know, you'll be staying all night and tomorrow. Take a nap somewhere if you need it," Steven instructed.
"Is one day gonna make any difference?" Marco asked.
"I don't know, if not, then I guess we'll be here next night too," the director said.
"Garrafal," the young Spaniard grumbled.
"Well, let's get started now," Steven ordered, softly, then he turned to Frank and Joe, "Listen, lads, I hope it's not to much asking...but could you do me a wee little favor and take the place of my two lost crew members?" he asked. "I will add your salaries to the account. And it's very convenient for you, you can question the crew and get to know the people and...-"
"No problem!" Joe cut him off, "I'm sure it'll be fun."
"Oh, thank you! You don't know how much it means, every person can make a difference...-"
Fenton and the cops came down from the stage. "There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with the ladder," Fenton said to his sons.
"So it wasn't sabotage?" Joe said.
"Maybe she just tried to reach too far and fell," Frank said.
"We will have to ask her that when she's out of surgery," sergeant Moneo said.
A woman in her mid thirties came walking towards them. "Pardón, senor Belson, the media is already outside, they must have seen the ambulancia leave," she said to Steven.
He sighed. "Thank you, Catrina," he said to the woman, "I'll handle them." He put up a determined expression and headed to the haliway.
The police took the ladder with them to the station and once they were gone the staff began cleaning the mess, the Hardys and the Wests helped along.
Joe looked up and wiped the sweat from his forehead while he was sweeping glass in a pile on the stage. "At least that 'E is still in it's place, imagine if it would have come down on the top of her."
Frank was on his knees just under the logo, wiping blood off the floor. He looked up as well. "No, Joe, I'd rather not imagine that," he said glumly.
The entire day, the whole night and next day, peolpe worked their butts of to finish the work there needed to be done. New glass tiles were put on the floor, the broken lights in it were fixed and the eurovision logo with it's neon lights was stucked properly. The settle rows became sleeping benches. While working mostly with Maggie and Marco Vélez, the Hardys brothers went around asking their questions about the other director's disappearance but they gained no sucess. The hosts, a known tv show director and a singer, and the opening and interval acts, started rehearsing over the weekend.
Finally late on Wednesday night all the trash was scooped up and thrown away, the lights and cameras were tested, the foremost settle rows were stripped of the plastic cloths, the contestants were arriving after five days. And nobody was any closer to Salvatore Elina.
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Before going to work on Thursday morning, Steven bought a bouqet of flowers and went to the hospital to visit Claudia and Ramón Richardo.
Ramón had been released the day of the accident but he hardly left his sister for one minute since then.
She was in a private room. Her leg was in a cast and rested on a big pillow. Ramón was sitting in an armchair beside the bed.
Steven knocked on the door and poked his head inside. "Hola?"
Claudia smiled. "Hola!"
Steven entered the room and laid the floweres in her lap. "How are you?"
"I'm okay, my leg hurts like hell but I'll live," she said, "So you can stop feeling guilty," she added, "It wasn't your fault."
Fenton, Frank and Joe came into the room and heard her last words. "What exactly happened?" Fenton asked.
"Well, I was trying to finish the logo and I had to reach to screw the 'E' tight but then I tangled my foot in the ladder and I fell," she explained."
"Why? You think it's got something to do with Mr. Elina?" Ramón asked quietly.
"Perhaps not. The police has been analysing the ladder, there's nothing wrong with it," Fenton said.
"Because I was being clumsy and fell, and that's it!" Claudia stated.
"But I still feel I am responsible..." Steven started.
"Trust me, you're not."
"Okay, okay, if you say so..."
"When will you be released?" Joe asked.
"After a few days, in time for the semi-finals," Claudia replied and smiled at him.
"That's great!"
"Yeah it is," she looked back at Steven, "How about senor Elina?"
Steven shook his head. "No, nothing and no more threat notes since the protest the other day."
"Then I guess it was the Lebanese supporters, huh?" Ramón commented.
"Probably."
"The truth is, we've come to a dead end, there's absolutely nothing to go by," Fenton said, "Sergeant Moneo told me that the Lebanese had been sent back to their homes."
"Oh, good, 'cause I couldn' t do with more of that, I've been so stressed lately and everything is going wrong and...-"
"Don't freak out, we managed to finish the stage and the saloon is ready," Joe comforted.
"Did I mess the stage up really badly?" Claudia asked.
"Don't worry, we've fixed it, you just relax and get better," Steven assured, he looked at his watch, "Maybe we should get going."
"Okay, thanks for coming!" Claudia said as they left the room.
"Bye!" the brothers voiced.
"Well, she looks fine," Fenton commented in the car on the way to the concert hall.
Steven nodded. "Yeah, thankfully."
Joe was sitting in the passeger seat, he turned on the radio and a rock-styled song in spanish with some latino flavours was tuning. He hummed with it, not knowing the lyrics.
"You like the song?" Steven asked.
"Yeah, I do," Joe answered.
"It's the spanish entry for the contest," Steven informed.
"It's good."
"I know."
Frank leaned forward in the back seat. "Hey, Steven, tell me something about the contest in general."
"Like what?"
Frank shrugged."Something, how did it all begin?"
"Well, there was a song competiton in Italy, called San Reno Festival, that's where the idea of the Eurovision Song Contest was born. The first contest was held in 1956 in Lugano, Switzerland. Then only seven countries participated. Then the competiton wasn't split in two, the first time a semi-final was held was in 2004 when so many countries enterd. Back then the performances weren't judged by televoting, of course, but by an "expert" jury who awarded the performers with 1-10 points. The televoting didn't begun until 1998. The rules have been changing forever since then, somtimes the songs can be sung in any language the performer chooses, it is like that today, but there have been years when they could only be sung in the language of the country which the performer is representing. From the beginning more and more nations have participated. You see, they began 7 and now we're close to 40," Steven stopped at a red light,
"The rules of the competiton, for your information, are: A song can't be longer than about 3 minutes, the maximum number of performers on stage is 6, there must be a vocal in the song -never instrumental only- and all vocal must be performed live -you see, since 1999 we've used recordings of the songs but until then there were actually live big bands playing-," he stepped on the accelerator at the green light, "A performer can only represent one country in a contest. A song cannot have been offically published before the contest and can not be comercially available too far in advance of Eurovison..."
"Wow...this is more complicated than I thought," Joe said.
"But who has ever gained something from eurovision...I don't believe I've heard of anyone..." Frank said.
Steven nearly lost control of the car in sheer shock. "What do you mean! Lads, who hasn't heard of ABBA? Or Celine Dion! The Shadows? Olivia Newton-John...?"
"ABBA won in 1974, with Waterloo," Fenton said, proud of himself and his good memory. He was an old fan of the Swedish stars.
"Well, okay, I've heard of those but ...-"
,"Isn't that enough, those are huge names!" Steven said enthusiasticly.
"But Celine Dion is Canadian, Canada isn't part of the EBU, is it?" Frank finnished.
"Nothing says an artist has to be born in the country he or she represents -but you're right, she is indeed Canadian, she participated for Switzerland in 1988 with a song called 'Ne partez pa sans moi'."
"Don't leave without me?" Fenton translated.
Steven nodded.
"So those are the only grand success in the-more-than-fifty-years-history of the competition? Four?" Frank asked.
"Well, the most grand, for sure, but, it sounds to me you define 'grand' as something that reaches USA, some are just fine with being famous in Europe or even in their own country, you know...?" Steven clarified.
They were now at the concert hall. Steven parked the car and the four went inside.
The hosts -the male television program direcor and the lady singer -were practicing their lines on the stage. The man spoke in english first and the woman translated in french. They stopped speaking when Steven approched and took a seat in the foremost row. "Keep going." They did.
The brothers chose a row in the middle and sat down. Joe sighed. "Man, this has to be the dullest case we've ever been on," he said.
"I consider that good, that means we're not in life threatning danger and I don't need to be saving your butt all the time," Frank said and smiled.
Joe rolled his eyes. "Excuse me, but I'm not choking in my laughter here."
Maggie came towards them. "Whzzup!" again she used that exaggarated accent that made the word sound like a hiss and annoyed Frank to death.
"Hi, Maggie. Nothing's up," Joe said poutingly.
"Me and Marco are going out for a smoke, you coming with us?" Maggie offered.
"No, thanks, not me," Frank declined.
Joe stood up. "Sure."
Frank followed his brother and his companions out the door with his eyes, not wanting his little brother to get into trouble with 'the gruesome twosome' as he had reccently started calling the couple, Maggie and Marco, getting the idea from a Simpson's show (Homer gave Marge's sisters that title). Then he decided he oughta trust his brother a little better and turned his eyes to the stage.
Joe, Maggie and Marco went off the concert hall's property, to Marco's red convertible across the street.
"I take it the case isn't going very well," Maggie said.
"It isn't going at all," Joe corrected.
"So I guess good old step-dad is just gonna have to handle the show."
"There's still one week to go," Marco said, lightening a cigarette.
"Yeah, but even if they found Salvatore in that time, he still wouldn' t be able to start again in the middle of the artists week."
Marco shrugged. "Why not? Belson is using most of his concepts for the performances."
Maggie shook her head defeatingly. "Whatever," she waved the subject off and offered Joe a cigarette, which he politely denied.
Maggie watched him thoughtfully. "You're kinda nice fella, aren't you?" she said. Joe wasn't sure wheather she was mocking him or what until she added, "Which is weird, 'cause your'e so goddamn cute."
Joe kept himself from blushing and grinned widely.
Marco looked at them. "Get a room," he joked. Joe had the feeling he was a bit jealous.
A taxi pulled up at the concert hall and a seemingly very grumpy Bill stepped out of it and hurried inside.
Maggie had been quick hiding the cigarette behind her back but he didn't turn. She shook her head. "Dad must have overslept," she said to herself, "We should go back inside." She sprayed a mint spray into her mouth.
Just when they were going in, Fenton and Frank came running outside. "Get in the car,Joe!" Fenton said on his way to Steven's sedan, "Mrs. Elina called, her husband called her!"
The little lore corner:
Memorable names in Eurovision: ABBA (Waterloo, Sweden 1974), Céline Dion (Ne partez pas sans moi, Switzerland 1988), Olivia Newton-John (Long live love, UK 1974), The Shadows (Let me be the one, UK 1975), Lara Fabian (Croire, Luxemburg 1988), T.A.T.u. (Ne ver', ne'bojsia, Russia 2003), Mary Hopkin (Knock, knock, who's there? UK 1970).
Others: Cliff Richard, Johnny Logan, Edyta Górniak, Gina G, Julio Iglesias, Vicky Léandros and many, many more.