Drama TV: A Nicky and Noah Mystery: Nicky and Noah Mysteries, #13

Praise for the award-winning Nicky and Noah mysteries:

Joe Cosentino has a unique and fabulous gift. His writing is flawless, and his use of farce, along with his convoluted plotlines, will have you guessing until the very last page, which makes his books a joy to read. His books are worth their weight in gold, and if you haven't discovered them yet you are in for a rare treat. Divine Magazine

"a combination of Laurel and Hardy mixed with Hitchcock and Murder She Wrote…Loaded with puns and one-liners…Right to the end, you are kept guessing, and the conclusion still has a surprise in store for you." Optimumm Book Reviews

adventure, mystery, and romance with every page….Funny, clever, and sweet….I can’t find anything not to love about this series….This read had me laughing and falling in love….Nicky and Noah are my favorite gay couple. Urban Book Reviews

For fans of Joe Cosentino's hilarious mysteries, this is another vintage story with more cheeky asides and subplots right left and centre….The story is fast paced, funny and sassy. The writing is very witty with lots of tongue-in-cheek humour….Highly recommended. Boy Meets Boy Reviews

This delightfully sudsy, colorful cast of characters would rival that of any daytime soap opera, and the character exchanges are rife with sass, wit and cagey sarcasm….As the pages turn quickly, the author keeps us hanging until the startling end. Edge Media Network

A laugh and a murder, done in the style we have all come to love….This had me from the first paragraph….Another wonderful story with characters you know and love! Crystals Many Reviewers

These two are so entertaining….Their tactics in finding clues and the crazy funny interactions between characters keeps the pages turning. For most of the book if I wasn't laughing, I was grinning. Jo and Isa Love Books

Superb fun from start to finish, for me this series gets stronger with every book, and that’s saying something because the benchmark was set so very high with book 1. Three Books Over the Rainbow

The Nicky and Noah Mysteries series is perfect for fans of the cozy mystery sub-genre. They mix tongue-in-cheek humor, over-the-top characters, a wee bit of political commentary, and suspense into a sweet little mystery solved by Nicky and Noah, theatre professors for whom all the world’s a stage. Prism Book Alliance

The Nicky and Noah Mysteries by Joe Cosentino

Drama Queen

Drama Muscle

Drama Cruise

Drama Luau

Drama Detective

Drama Fraternity

Drama Castle

Drama Dance

Drama Faerie

Drama Runway

Drama Christmas

Drama Pan

Drama TV

DRAMA TV

a Nicky and Noah mystery

Joe Cosentino

Copyright 2021 Joe Cosentino

Published in the USA

This is a work of fiction. All characters, places and events are from the author’s very vivid imagination and should not be confused with fact. Any resemblance to persons, living or dead, events or places is purely coincidental.

All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced in any material form, whether by printing, photocopying, scanning or otherwise without the written permission of the author.

The content of this book is not meant to diagnose, treat, or prevent any illness or condition. This novel is for mature readers.

Cover Art by Jesús Da Silva

Cover and interior design by Fred Wolinsky

Dedication

To Fred for everything, to the readers who begged for another Nicky and Noah mystery, and to everyone like me who thinks the Nicky and Noah Mysteries should become a TV series.

Cast of Characters

The Nicky and Noah Mysteries television show at Treemeadow College Dramatis Personae:

Nicky Abbondanza, Professor of Play Directing, Director, Nicky Abbondanza

Noah Oliver, Associate Professor of Acting, Acting Coach, Nicky’s husband, Noah Oliver

Martin Anderson, Professor of Theatre Management, Theatre Department Head, Teleplay Writer, Martin Anderson

Ruben Markinson, Martin’s husband, Dead Body

Taavi Kapule Oliver Abbondanza, Nicky and Noah’s son, Kyle Samson, film major

Ty Wilde Anderson Markinson, Martin and Ruben’s son, P.J. Myers, theatre major

Shayla Johnson, Theatre Department Office Assistant, Shayla Johnson

Detective Jose Manuello, Detective, Detective Manuello

Chris Jones, Jackson Grier, Professor of Movement

Zorah Mars, Ariella Samson, Professor of Costuming, Kyle’s mother

Clark Murata, Scotty Bruno, Graduate Assistant of Play Directing

Bucky Ray, Tyler Thompson, Graduate Assistant of Technical Theatre

Cam Mark, David Amour, theatre major

Caroline Joy, Jan Annondale, theatre major

Madame Mirembe, Kayla Calloway, theatre major

Tadeo Torres, Ricky Gonzalez, theatre major

Ford Heathcliff, John Dickenson, Junior Detective

Stuey Socks, Makeup artist

Sam Bailey, TV Network Executive

Family:

Bonnie (Mom) Oliver, Noah’s mother

Scott (Dad) Oliver, Noah’s father

Valentina (Mama) Abbondanza, Nicky’s mother

Giacomo (Papa) Abbondanza, Nicky’s father

We’ll Never Tell:

Billy Bob Bubba Earl

Trick and Treat

Sebastian Snoop

Quentin Tarantula and Steven Shpiel

CHAPTER ONE

Smoke, streetlamps, beggars, and ladies of the evening permeate the Victorian London street. A dangerously handsome young man in an expensive suit twirls his dark cape around the shoulders of a beautiful young woman. Her hair and gown are blonde and flowing. The man’s crystal blue eyes sparkle as he kisses her ivory neck. She reaches for his broad back. He grasps the broach fastened at her neck by a thick ribbon, and he squeezes tighter and tighter. The elated expression on her youthful face transforms to one of abject horror. After she gasps her last breath, the woman lay motionless on the gray cement next to another young woman whose blood trickles from her dark skin onto her burgundy gown. The murderous Adonis flicks back his long dark velvety hair. After admiring his two victims, he spots his next prey. A smaller and darker man removes his jacket and ruffled white shirt exposing a ripe, muscular chest. As if offering himself as a human sacrifice, he reaches out, resting his hands on the other man’s bulging biceps. After they share a passionate kiss, the taller man retrieves the knife hidden inside his high black boot. He holds it erect and then plunges it into the other man’s side. As the murderer stares down at his third victim, he says, The Lord is vengeful and strong in wrath. And revenge is oh so sweet.

The deceased blonde woman sits up and says, Did my hair and makeup look okay?

Wiping the blood off her arm, the dark woman asks, Was Caroline in my light?

The young male victim rambles to his feet. Can Cam and I try the kiss again?

Cut! Hello, TV land. It’s Nicky Abbondanza, PhD, Professor of Play Directing and director of theatre, bodybuilding competition, cruise dinner theatre, luau show, film, ballet, modeling runway, and now television. What am I doing directing a television pilot during winter break here at Treemeadow College in picturesque Vermont? A television network made me an offer I couldn’t refuse. Literally. My credit card payments were due at the same time as a television network executive saw a play I directed at the college. The plan was hatched for me to direct a television pilot chronicling my first mystery case at the college. As they say, the first is always the most special. Just ask my mother about her oldest boy—me! My first case of twelve so far, Drama Queen, was also unique because it brought me together with my husband, Noah Oliver, Associate Professor of Acting. When five of our professor colleagues dropped faster than the curtain on a David Mamet play for an audience full of nuns, Noah was one of my suspects—which he never lets me forget. (He also never lets me forget my age, forty-five, since he’s a youthful thirty-eight.) After that first case, Noah became the Watson to my Holmes, the love of my life, my spouse for life, and the co-parent to our adopted son, Taavi. Back to the TV pilot. I cast the best actor I know as myself—me. Noah began drafting divorce papers until I cast him in the appropriate role of himself, Noah Oliver. Our son, definitely an Oliver-Abbondanza, craves the theatrical limelight as well as the detective’s flashlight, making us a three armchair detective family. So Taavi, sixteen, threatened to become a Republican terrorist storming the Capitol if I didn’t cast him in the role of suspect Kyle Samson, Treemeadow College film major. My best friend and Theatre Department Chair, Martin Anderson, was happier than a QAnon member spotting a Jewish laser from outer space when I asked him to write the script and play himself in the TV pilot. Martin’s husband Ruben vowed to hide Martin’s diapers and dentures until I cast Ruben as one of the murder victims. Martin and Ruben’s fifteen-year-old adopted son, Ty, began phoning nursing homes for Martin and Ruben until I cast Ty as theatre major and suspect P.J. Myers. Martin’s secretary, adversary, and confidant, Shayla Johnson, hinted at burning our paychecks, so I cast Shayla in the plum role of herself, Shayla Johnson. Finally, my nemesis, Detective Jose Manuello, bitten by the Treemeadow acting bug in my past shows, talked his way into playing himself. Manuello told me he wanted to be close by when shooting (pardon the pun) wraps, and members of the TV cast and crew are murdered. Oh, Manuello, ye of little faith. It’s an Abbondanza production. They’ll be murdered long before that. Speaking of which, the television network cast professional actors from Los Angeles and New York in the remaining roles, and we lodged the actors in the dormitory on campus. So, like a warning before the Great Hurricane of 1780, the slate board was raised, and we shot first exterior and now interior scenes. This current scene in our ruby theatre documents the Jack the Ripper style play I was directing at Treemeadow College a decade ago, when I was a hunk.

You’re still a hunk to me. Noah sat in the front-row theatre seat next to mine. His strawberry shampoo made me weak in the knees—which were getting weak anyway.

I pointed to the neck brace under my shirt collar. I don’t feel like a hunk.

He kissed the cleft in my chin. "You’ll always be my hunk. No matter how old and feeble you become, Nicky."

Thanks, Noah. I think. True, my Italian-American genes had left me with tight olive skin, a Roman nose, and emerald eyes. Yes, the gym at the college had rewarded me with a muscular body. Of course, my wardrobe (copied by Noah, Taavi, and Ty) of a well-appointed dress shirt, dress slacks, and blazer made me look dashing. And then there is that other tidbit. Well, not exactly a tidbit. More like a titan. Why beat around the bush (no pun intended)? Like a new member of AA who is called to speak first, I’ll come right out and say I have a nearly foot-long penis—flaccid—which thanks to Noah isn’t flaccid very much.

Noah’s azure eyes, milk and honey skin, and radiant blond hair made him the picture of youth. Grr. I’ll always adore you, Nicky. He giggled. Even when you’re old—er.

I kissed his soft, youthful (grr) cheek.

Noah cooed. Remember when we first met in this theatre, Nicky?

Yes, my graduate assistant, Scotty Bruno, was hot for you.

"But I chose you, the love of my life. Despite you thinking I was a suspect in the Drama Queen murders."

See?

Noah rested his head on my shoulder.

Ow!

Sorry. How’s your neck, Nicky?

Ask the compressed nerves. I sighed. It’s no fun growing old.

Unless you have someone wonderful to grow old with.

We started to kiss.

"When do we shoot my scene, Pop?" My son took the other seat next to me.

I turned toward him too quickly. Ow! You can’t always be on camera, Taavi.

Then can I be onstage? Taavi’s dimples resembled the craters of his homeland Hawaii.

Noah leaned toward our son. "My scene comes first."

Help, I’m trapped inside an actor sandwich! I said.

Noah winked. You can be the meat, Nicky.

I whispered in his soft ear, Later my love.

I’ll hold you to that, he whispered back. Literally.

I’m counting on it.

Taavi’s dark eyes raised to his dark hair. I can hear that.

Noah did a double take. How can you hear us whispering, but not shouting for you to go to bed at night?

Selective listening, I explained to Noah.

Taavi cocked his head. Is that an acting technique like sense memory and emotional recall?

For you, yes. And speaking of shouting. After clearing my throat, I shouted to my cast onstage, Caroline, Madame, and Tadeo, we can edit out your comments, but for future don’t break character until I call, ‘Cut!’

Cute young Tadeo Torres stood at the edge of the stage, scratching his washboard abs. "But you did say ‘Cut,’ Nicky."

I replied, After the three of you started yacking about hair and makeup, the lighting, and a retake.

Tadeo was unphased. Can Cam and I have another take for our kiss? I want to get it right.

You want to get it all right.

A Broadway rap singer, Tadeo sang (if you call it singing), A kiss ain’t just a kiss. It ain’t like taking a piss. No slam, bam, thank you, maam. When Tadeo kisses Cam.

Beautiful blonde southerner Caroline Joy refastened the yellow ribbon around her neck. She pushed Tadeo away and cozied up to Cam like Scarlet O’Hara separating Melanie and Ashley. "You can’t carry a tune in a bucket, Tadeo. Cam and I need a retake for our kiss to be perfect. So roll the camera, Nicky. Now give me some sugar, Cam."

Excuse me. Madame Mirembe rustled her burgundy gown. "When I won the reality TV show singing contest, Atonal Amateurs, the director said my right side is my most photogenic. So Cam and I should reshoot our kiss with my right side to the camera."

Cam Mark, the object of their affection, flicked back his long hair above his broad shoulders. What was wrong with the three kisses, Nicky? Too much tongue?

Sam Bailey sat behind me. The take was fine, Nicky. This is television. We need to move quickly and stay on budget.

I spun around to face him. Ow!

The middle-aged television network executive scratched at his rumpled dark suit. This scene establishing the theatre majors in your Jack the Ripper play went three minutes overtime. We need to stay on schedule. Lifting the large black glasses up the bridge of his small nose, he added, Martin was savvy to include so many college student characters in the pilot script.

I cocked my head. We teach at a college.

Which is incredibly convenient, since the seventeen to twenty-one-year-old demographic is vital to attract advertisers to the show. He nudged my back.

Ow!

Sam rubbed his receding hairline. And if I do say so myself, Nicky, casting Madame Mirembe as theatre major Kayla Calloway was perfect. Everyone who hoped Madame would win the TV reality show singing contest will watch our show to gloat about how they knew she would make it on TV. People who hoped she’d lose on the reality show will tune into our pilot to mock her acting. It’s a win-win for us either way. And I cast Ricky Gonzalez as theatre major Tadeo Torres to reel in the rap crowd. He whispered, Not to mention that casting an African American and a Latino will bring in the ethnic viewers.

I’m glad you didn’t mention it. "Sam, in the Drama Queen case our student Kayla Calloway was African American, and our student Ricky Gonzalez was Latino."

Whatever. Sam smiled revealing a row of porcelain veneers. "Madame Mirembe won that annoying TV singing show contest, and Tadeo Torres was in the Broadway show about Abraham Lincoln singing rap music. That all means big ratings for our television show, Nicky. He waved a long finger at me. But only if we stay on schedule! So let’s move to the next scene. And watch the clock, Nicky!"

Noah, anticipating my frustration, placed a comforting hand on my knee.

I called out to the actors playing our theatre majors, Cam, Caroline, Madame, and Tadeo, please relax in the greenroom backstage. Everyone else, let’s set up for the Tyler Thompson and Scotty Bruno graduate assistants’ scene onstage in the wing.

Bodies hurled around us like parade floats during a storm. Sam seemed oblivious to the pandemonium. Nicky, the key to success in television is the key to success in life. It’s all in the timing. My wife and I had our two daughters using the rhythm method. Our girls are in high school back in Westchester, New York. They’re beautiful, smart, and they run track. He chuckled heartily. I ran track in high school myself, which taught me to stay on the clock. My debate team in college solidified it. And my religion further cemented the importance of keeping to the clock. He grinned. We’re Catholic, and mass begins and ends exactly on time each Sunday. It’s a fifty-minute mass and not a second longer. He chuckled. Thank goodness since our priest would put an insomniac on uppers to sleep. Oh, and the Pope’s message each month from his window at the Vatican—like clockwork. Same time. Same place. That’s the secret of success. Young directors today should learn that important lesson. Sam leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees. Don’t get me wrong, Nicky. I love young people. Always have. Their youthful energy and passion for life are infectious and healing to old folks like us.

Like us?

"But many young directors nowadays want to do things when they want to do them. But the world isn’t run that way. That’s why I was excited about you directing."

Because I’m young?

He laughed uproariously. Good one, Nicky.

Noah patted my knee in consolation.

Because you’re a college theatre professor. Sam scratched his miniscule nose. You understand a class begins and ends at an exact time. And the curtain goes up at eight.

Or a little later on Broadway if the star needs a cold shower, black coffee,