Looks like action director Jeremy Lord's racked up his very last cameo as a corpse (his preferred role in his gory thrillers) atop Cheryl Wade's toilet. It's nice for producer Kit Freers that Jeremy, who never seemed the ideal choice to direct Merry Christmas to All, is off the picture, but everybody else seems to be in a tizzy--especially Kit's wife Lucy, the animated animator who was called from the family bed to discover Jeremy's corpse. Even dead, Jeremy is the talk of Hollywood gossips, who wonder which of three wives killed him. Was it #1, Judie Lord Levitz, who succored herself after her divorce with megabucks house magnate Morton Levritz? Or #2, Caitlin Jones, who parlayed her pre-Lord career as a nanny into a fabulously profitable post as diet guru to the stars? Or #3, Cheryl's sister Alison Wade, the most bankable star in Tinseltown, whose heart now belongs to her dermatologist? Once Jeremy's been given a clean bill of health (as dead people go) and cremated, Cheryl tells Lucy she's sure she unwittingly administered poison to him in an unnamed substance that a really important person gave her to pass on, but before you can say ``unnatural death,'' Cheryl's in a coma herself, and Lucy, whose experience with her first case (The Dead Hollywood Moms Society, 1996) has made her batten onto this one, is getting threatening e-mails and confronting desperadoes with all the panache of Oprah. Maracotta's way with a zinger sadly keeps the suspense to a minimum: Why hope Lucy will unmask the killer when you just want her to go on dishing dirt by the yard?