FINDING MR. ANTON NELSON wasn’t as hard as I’d thought it would be. Milly had the right idea. The dressing rooms were marked with the actors’ names written on bits of paper in metal frames, so it really was just a matter of finding the correct door and knocking. And Mr. Nelson must not have been needed at rehearsal just then since he called, “What?” when Milly knocked. That was more than enough for Milly to consider it an invitation to go in.
Mr. Nelson was sitting in the room’s only chair, looking at a newspaper. I recognized him from the night before. He’d been two of the apparitions Macbeth’s witches had summoned and Lennox at the end. He looked up when he saw us. “Who are you?” He sounded curious but not annoyed, or at least not overly annoyed.
Milly ignored his tone. “We’re affiliated with the police in an unofficial capacity.”
Inspector Burrows would just love that.
“So we wanted to ask you a few questions.”
“To see if I’ll give you different answers than I gave him? Then it was foolish of you to say you were with them, then.”
Milly went on undaunted. “Oh no. That’s why we’re unofficial. We’re looking into all of the things you wouldn’t tell Inspector Burrows.”
“So you can tell him? Still, rather foolish to tell me you were involved with them.”
Milly continued to ignore his objections. “So why did you want that plague mask? Why not one of the ones in the box?”
Mr. Nelson hadn’t been expecting that question and answered in spite of himself. “Oh, I didn’t.” Then he seemed to realize he’d have to explain himself or end up looking more suspicious than he wanted to. “At least not for me. Laraby wanted it. But he didn’t think Mr. Morgan would give it to him, so he asked me to get it for him. I knew Wilton would be an easier target, so I waited until Mr. Morgan was working on the sets for the scenes we were doing and asked him. Then I went back down later and took the mask I was going to wear from a box they left out so I wouldn’t have to sign for it.”
“Why you?” Milly asked.
Mr. Nelson smiled guiltily. “He got me out of a spot of trouble a while back. So I sort of owed him. It seemed like an easy way to pay him back.”
“What was the trouble?” Milly asked before I could decide if it was a good idea or not.
“Nothing much. I was short at the pub and he paid for my drinks.”
“Did he end up wearing the mask?”
“Now that you mention it, no he didn’t. I suppose he must have realized Mr. Morgan was right about things getting lost and didn’t want anyone to suggest he should pay for a replacement. He lost the mask he was wearing at the pub afterward, so I suppose it was good he didn’t wear it.”
“I wonder why he asked for it then,” Milly said.
Mr. Nelson shrugged.
“I guess we’ll have to ask him,” I said. I was beginning to be quite curious about who had worn the mask to the party.
We tried Milly’s trick with the dressing room signs again, only to find Mr. Laraby’s empty and locked.
“Were you looking for someone?”
We both turned to see a dark-haired woman of about our age in a burgundy day dress and brown coat. She glanced at the door. “Nathan Laraby? He’s rehearsing on stage at the moment. Did you need him for something?”
“We’re asking some questions for Inspector Burrows,” Milly said. “We’re trying to find out who was dressed as what and where they were. Things like that.”
“Well, I don’t like to bother him while he’s working out a scene, but if you’d like to wait backstage until he’s finished, I can show you the way.”
“That’s so kind,” Milly gushed. “And while you’re on your way out.”
“It’s not a problem. Come along.”
Milly and I followed. I wasn’t going to miss a chance to see backstage of a theater. As we were walking, I recognized our guide as the woman I’d seen on the stairs at the masquerade. “You had the lovely blue gown at the party.”
“Fancy you remembering that. But you said you were looking into costumes. I suppose that does help with knowing who was where. It was Lady Macbeth. We were going to do her big speech on the balcony as a surprise, give the guests a bit of a scare, I suppose. It seemed in bad taste after—well.”
Milly and I both nodded.
“You’re Rachel Bowen, then,” Milly said. “A friend of mine mentioned that I’d missed out on some excellent Shakespeare last night.”
“That was kind of them. And a very clever way to get my name for your files.”
Mrs. Bowen didn’t seem offended, so I asked, “I saw you go up to the balcony after the Romeo and Juliet, was that why? To prepare?”
“That’s what I would have told someone who asked. Really, I just needed a few moments away from the crowd, and there are some empty spots up there if you know where to look.”
Like the manager’s office, if you knew where to look for the key. “Did you see anything while you were up there?”
Mrs. Bowen didn’t seem to know what I was asking about. “Just some other guests. I bet you were the Queen of Hearts, right?”
I nodded.
“That was a spectacular costume. Well, here we are. If you wait right down there, Nathan will see you as he comes off stage and you can catch him. I would stay to introduce you, but I have to meet my business manager, and I want to get there before he leaves the office.”
We both thanked Mrs. Bowen then went in the direction she’d indicated. We found an out-of-the-way spot to wait where not only would we catch Mr. Laraby as he came off stage, but we had a good view of his performance. I recognized him from the party as well, although I suppose that shouldn’t have surprised me. Obviously, he’d been there if he’d needed a mask. He had played Macbeth with the witches. Now he looked much less mysterious in a perfectly normal sort of suit made more artistic with his brightly patterned waistcoat and his hair a bit long and fashionably mussed.
I didn’t want to disturb him while he was working; if nothing else it would make him less inclined to help us, so we waited quietly in the wings, watching him work out where he was going to stand and how he was going to move across the stage. Milly was starting to fidget with her handbag—he did seem to have been working on the same bit of business for ages, unable to decide how he was going to take a goblet from the table and trying more than a dozen ways of doing it—when he made a sweeping gesture that brought us into his line of sight. “Oh, hello. I didn’t know I had an audience. Should I take the lack of applause as a sign I need to work on it a bit more?”
“More that we didn’t want to bother you,” I assured him.
“That’s nice of you to say. There’s supposed to be poison in the cup, you see, and I’m not supposed to know about it, but we want the audience to guess that there’s something wrong, so when I collapse a couple speeches later, they might think of it. I’m trying to work out how to do all that and give a speech about the fair Cordelia. And no, it isn’t Shakespeare. Some friend of one of the donors wrote it. It isn’t half bad, but it needs some work and everyone’s afraid to tell him. But you weren’t here for my problems. What were yours? You’re the friends of the police, right? Not that that’s a problem on its own. But gossip does travel here. Worse than a village. So what’s made me a suspect?”
He hadn’t been a serious suspect until his flood of words had suggested nerves. So was he rambling from nerves and were those nerves about the murder or something else, or was he just the sort to ramble? There was no good way to ask any of that.
Milly jumped in without hesitation, “Oh, you’re not a suspect. We’re just talking to everyone. And we came up with a little question.” She turned to me, waiting for me to figure out how to phrase the question.
“We’re just tracing some of the costumes so we know where everyone was,” I finished for her. “And Mr. Nelson said he gave you the plague mask from the locked cabinet, but no one saw you wearing it, so we were trying to trace where it was during the party.”
“Oh, that.” Mr. Laraby looked from one to the other of us. He wasn’t surprised by the question, but he wasn’t pleased with it either. “I suppose I should have known someone would be asking about it. Do we have to tell the police?”
We did if it was connected in any way to the murder. “If we managed to find you had it, Inspector Burrows is sure to.”
“Then I suppose I don’t have much choice. I was trying to help a friend.”
Milly and I continued to stare at him, waiting for him to explain that.
He relented. “Mrs. Bowen. She and Mr. Bexley are having a bit of a fling, and someone found out. They have letters. They want money. I was going to help her get them back and hide them in the mask.”
Only we didn’t find letters in the mask.
“Mr. Bexley from the coat check?” Milly asked.
“I think he was doing coats last night. He’s in the box office usually.”
I steered us back to the blackmail. “What happened?”
“The blackmailer never showed. He was supposed to meet me behind the theater with the letters during the balcony scene, and he never came.”
“So what did you do with the mask?”
“I wasn’t supposed to have it, and I was already wearing one from the prop box, so I left it in the prop room, near the cabinet. I figured Mr. Morgan would see it and put it back.”
Except the prop room had been locked all night. “Did you know Mr. Craddock?”
“Not well. He was around, fiddling with things on the stage, but not someone I talked to very much. I generally tried to stay out of his way when he was working so I wouldn’t interfere with what he was doing. I’d hate to be the cause of some effect not working and falling on someone.”
“Who were you dressed as at the party?” Milly asked, which was a good way to change the subject.
“A Roman soldier. It was a costume from when we did Julius Caesar. The costume for the scene with the witches was really just a travel cloak, so it was rather boring for the evening, but easy to throw over something else, and the kilt that was supposed to be for the costume was making me itch, so the tunic looked good enough under the cloak. Was there anything else?”
Milly was edging toward the exit, which surprised me. She’d been so enthusiastic about questioning everyone else. I didn’t have anything else to ask, so I said, “No, we’ll let you get back to getting poisoned.”
Mr. Laraby smiled. “I shall dedicate this bit to you both in my heart if nothing else.” He gave us an exaggerated bow and went back to his poison cup.
Milly was already leaving. I hurried to follow.
Milly waited for me to catch up in the hallway that led to the dressing rooms, out of sight of the stage. When I got there, she wasted no time in telling me, “He wasn’t meeting a blackmailer during the balcony scene.”
“You’re certain?”
“There was only one Roman at the party, and I saw him during the balcony scene. He was at the buffet taking a remarkable number of the little sandwiches and talking to a shipwrecked sailor. At least I think that’s what he was supposed to be. I remember thinking he didn’t have the legs for the tunic but the armor did look good on his shoulders. Mr. Laraby, not the sailor. His legs were quite good. But I went over after the scene and asked him if the sandwiches were any good. They were.”
I ignored the bit about the sailor, and I remembered seeing Milly talking to a Roman. “Do you think it was him you saw and he was lying about the meeting, or the Roman was someone else and he was lying about the costume?”
“He was the Roman. I’m sure of it. Right height. Right hair. Right shoulders. And I recognized his voice when he was talking to us. I was trying to think how to get him to show me his legs back there, but I couldn’t think of anything. At least not anything that you’d let me get away with.”
I swatted her with my handbag.
“So why did Mr. Laraby lie to us?” Milly seemed more annoyed with him than anything.
“That’s the question, isn’t it?”
“Pity he won’t answer it if we ask. Do you think he was being blackmailed himself?”
I considered that idea. “It’s possible. But would he have brought up blackmail at all if that was the case? Wouldn’t he be afraid it would make us think of very thing he was trying to distract us from?”
“Maybe he’s not a very creative liar and that was the best he could do? Give his situation to someone else?”
“That could be it,” I agreed. “We did rather put him on the spot.”
“Or he could be stealing from the troupe and wanted to hide the stuff in the mask. Or he could be blackmailing someone else, even Mrs. Bowen.”
“Then he definitely wouldn’t have wanted us to be thinking of blackmail.”
“I suppose not.” Milly went quiet while she considered other ideas. “And there must have been something in the mask that they didn’t want anyone to see. Otherwise, why replace the contents with the glass gems?”
I nodded. “And why would someone want that particular mask at all if they weren’t going to hide something in it? It would have been much easier to get a mask like it out of the box. I’m starting to wonder if anyone was actually wearing the stupid thing.” Really, the saga of the plague mask was becoming annoyingly complicated. “And then there’s the problem of how to figure out where Mr. Laraby really left the mask, if it wasn’t on Mr. Craddock. The prop room was supposed to be locked. And how was someone able to find it? And who found it? And of course, the problem of how the mask got onto Mr. Craddock at all.”
“I could ask around,” Milly offered. “Maybe someone saw the mask somewhere. Or saw someone wearing it. Or saw Mr. Laraby somewhere.”
I didn’t have any better ideas, and Milly’s ability to gossip had already come in handy on this case.
“And we could talk to Miss Finch,” Milly said, warming to the idea of gossip as investigation. “She did take one of the masks from the case. She might know something about how the people who got them were chosen.”
That wasn’t a bad idea, and Milly had already started walking in the direction of the dressing rooms again so nothing I said would deter her. I followed her.
We found Miss Ella Finch’s dressing room halfway down the row of doors. Milly knocked and there was a call of “Enter!” almost at once. Milly opened the door and went right in.
Miss Finch was sitting at her dressing table sorting through a box of make-up. She looked up when the door opened, watching us in the mirror. “You’re the ones looking into what happened to Mr. Craddock.”
By now I was used to the idea that everyone in the theater knew what we were doing there. I recognized her as Juliet from the party.
Milly nodded. “Cassie is friends with Inspector Burrows, and he listens to her.”
That wasn’t how I would have put it at all. Any mention of the police tended to stop people from talking. “Sometimes people would rather not speak to the police. I am friends with Inspector Burrows, so I can nudge him away from threads that aren’t related to the murder.” That was slightly better.
“I suppose it is easier to talk to someone less official, although he did seem rather nice. Although, if you’re just going to tell him everything, I would think it would be better to tell him directly and avoid any misunderstandings.”
“Not everyone thinks of that,” I told her.
“I suppose they wouldn’t. What sort of things did you want to know?”
“For one thing,” Milly said, “we’re following costumes. You were Juliet, right?”
“That’s right. It was one of the scenes we did, so I stayed in the costume for the rest of the party. I added a bit for the scene to make it more dramatic, though. Like the wig. It was much too heavy to wear around all night.”
“And you had that lovely red and gold mask,” Milly said.
“Yes, I did.”
That wasn’t telling us anything we didn’t know, so I asked, “Why did you go to the trouble of getting the mask from the cabinet instead of one from the prop box?”
Miss Finch smiled. “Because I know the point of these things. The donors like to see the fantasy of the theater. That’s why they’re willing to pay for the tickets. So I thought I’d give them a bit of it. I mean, I was wearing the Juliet dress and chatting to them almost in character all evening. Besides, it’s fun to have the pretty things once in a while. And I’d never buy something like that for myself. I shudder to think how much Mr. Landon paid for those. It’s why we use them so often on stage, to get the theater’s money’s worth.”
I didn’t see how that helped us with why Mr. Laraby had taken the plague mask, but then there really hadn’t been any reason why it would.
Milly went on with the line of questioning. “You had the dagger with the red stone in the hilt too.”
“Yes, I think I did. It matched my mask.”
“Was that why you asked for it?”
“No. I mean I didn’t ask for it. Once I was in costume, I realized it was hard to tell who I was in the dress, so I went down to see Mr. Morgan and said I needed a dagger to go with the character. I thought it would make it more obvious that I was Juliet. Then I wouldn’t have to answer the same question about who I was dressed as over and over or correct some rich donor who didn’t know his Shakespeare, and a dagger was more dramatic for a masquerade than a vial of poison. I just took whatever he gave me.”
“Did he say why he gave you that particular one?” I asked.
“I think it was close at hand. He did mention that it matched the mask I’d taken earlier, but I don’t know that that was his main reason.”
I wondered why that dagger had been close at hand. “Had anyone else asked for a weapon?”
“I have no idea. I wasn’t particularly interested. I just checked that it was a safe dagger, thanked him, and left.”
“Did you think you needed to check?”
“Not with Mr. Morgan. He wouldn’t give someone a live blade by mistake. It’s just a habit, I suppose. I always check when they hand me one of the weapons.”
“Quite sensible,” Milly chimed in. “Some of them come in sets, don’t they?”
“Yes, in fact, I think...” Miss Finch paused. “Was that how he was killed? With the mate to the dagger I had?”
I wasn’t sure how to answer that. I didn’t think that was information Inspector Burrows wanted out.
Miss Finch drew her own conclusions from my silence. “I see. You can’t tell me anything, but you think it might be. Or you know it is.”
“Inspector Burrows will probably want to talk to you again.”
“Then I’ll ask him. And I didn’t kill Mr. Craddock.”
I got Milly out of there before Miss Finch deduced anything else from what we said.
Before we could decide on our next move, a voice boomed out of the hallway from the direction of the stage. “I thought the police had left. How am I supposed to direct a rehearsal if everyone is answering questions?” The man who appeared around the edge of the hallway had to be Mr. Millbrook, the director of the play.
“We aren’t with the police,” Milly said just as I grabbed her arm.
“We were done for now, weren’t we, Milly?”
Milly must have realized it was best to stay on everyone’s good side. “I suppose we were. Unless you had anything you thought we should know about the night of the murder?”
Mr. Millbrook froze. “Why would you think I did?”
“You were at the party,” Milly pointed out. “Although I don’t remember what you were dressed as?”
“Faust,” he said flatly and walked away.
“I don’t remember seeing a Faust,” Milly said as we walked back to the lobby.
“I suppose it depends on how he interpreted being dressed as Faust. There were quite a few generic sort of characters about.”
“It’s a pity he didn’t stay long enough for us to ask him. Unless he didn’t want us to know. Maybe we should go after him...”
I shook my head. “Good that we left when we did. Maybe we can corner him when he’s not in the middle of a rehearsal and see what he says.”
“Or we could ask some of the other people from the party. I would think someone would have recognized him. What else do we need to know?”
I started walking in the direction of the lobby and hoped Milly would take the hint. “Was anyone actually wearing the plague mask?”
“We haven’t found anyone who saw it,” Milly said. “Except the people who saw the body. But it had to be somewhere. What else?”
“Why Mr. Craddock was killed?” That seemed to be the heart of it.
“Maybe once we know why the mask was important, we’ll know that. He could have been hiding some secret plans in there. Plans someone wanted to steal and sell. Or he could have been the blackmailer. Well, the possibilities are really endless. I’m starving. We should get some tea.”
Tea sounded very good just then, and it would get Milly out of the theater and stop her from suggesting we go hunting for a blackmailer or a paste jewel thief. “I think there’s a tea room around the corner.”
The lobby was empty except for a footman who was putting away the music stands. Milly went right over to him. By the time I caught up to them, he’d stopped collecting the stands and had his full attention on her. When I moved into her line of sight, she made no move to introduce me to the man I now assumed was Mr. Clarke and abruptly changed topics. “We were just looking for Inspector Burrows. We’ve been collecting information for him and we wanted to let him know what we found.”
“The inspector? He left about an hour ago. I didn’t hear that he was coming back.”
So we’d spent longer investigating than Inspector Burrows had. I wonder if that meant we’d been more successful.
“Oh well, we can see him in the morning, right, Cassie?”
There would probably have been time to go to Scotland Yard now and see him, but I didn’t see any harm in waiting until the morning. “That should be fine.”
Milly barely waited for me to answer. “Well, you don’t need to worry about seeing me home. I’ll stop by in the morning and we can go over to the Yard together.”
Part of me was curious as to why she was so eager to be rid of me, particularly as tea had just been on offer and she had probably been assuming I would pay, but more of me really did not want it to be my problem. “If you’re sure.”
Milly was already deep in conversation with the footman.
~ * ~ * ~
When I got back to my flat and hung my coat in the closet, the first thing I noticed was the Knave of Hearts handbag staring up at me as best it could with its eyes closed. So the coat closet was not the place to keep him. The question was where else could it go? I tried as many places as I could think of, starting with the broom cupboard and ending with it under the sofa, and finally came to the conclusion that, while the handbag had been an excellent prop for my costume, it could not stay in my flat. No matter where I put it, it seemed to be watching me.
I decided the best thing to do was return the bag to Kate. She might have some use for it, and then it wouldn’t be staring at me. And I could stop at the bakery on their street for some nice custard tarts to have with my tea, as I’d promised myself before Milly dragged me into investigating.
~ * ~ * ~
When I passed the front window of Shepherd and Ferris Haberdashery and Tinkering, I saw that Kate had finished the incredibly heavy Knave of Hearts head with opening eyes she had been suggesting for my bag, transformed it into the King of Hearts, and was using it as a centerpiece for their window display. A much better use for it, both because I would not have wanted to carry it around and because of how the party had turned out. Someone, presumably Ada, had accessorized it with playing cards, a tea set, and a good bit of the left-over red fabric and felt playing card symbols that hadn’t been needed for my costume. It was a fantastic display. I hoped it was getting the shop plenty of attention.
Inside, Ada was at the counter looking through a catalog, and Kate was by the front window, admiring her handiwork and probably looking for something to improve upon. They both looked over when they heard the bell above the door ring.
“Cassie! Hello,” Kate said as I came in.
Ada came over from the counter. “We weren’t expecting you to visit so soon after your party.”
I took the handbag out of its wrapping. “I wanted to bring this back while you could still use it for a Halloween display.”
“You’re sure you don’t want to keep it?” Kate asked.
“I’m sure.”
Kate took the bag. “Well, if you need it again, just let us know.” She turned back to the window display. “I could make a stand for it that looked like a playing card and give our king a friend.” Kate put the handbag down on the edge of the display case and pulled out a notebook to begin sketching ideas.
“How was the party?” Ada asked.
“Before or after Milly found a body?”
Neither Kate nor Ada thought I was joking or was the least bit surprised by that outcome.
“Anyone we know?” Kate asked.
“I don’t think so. A Mr. Robert Craddock. He worked for the theater and a few others in the area setting up and repairing the effects.”
“What happened?” Ada asked.
“Someone stabbed him. Milly and the company director found the body in the manager’s office. Inspector Burrows has the case.”
“Well that’s something,” Kate said. “At least he’ll investigate it properly.”
“Do they have any idea why he was killed?” Ada asked.
I shook my head. “Since he worked with the theatrical effects for that theater and at least four others nearby, Milly’s theory is that he invented something and someone wants to stop him from profiting off of it.”
“I doubt that,” Kate said. “If he was working for multiple theaters, he wouldn’t be someone who invented things, just repaired existing effects. If you can get your hands on any sort of a theatrical tinkerer, you would make certain you kept him to yourself. They’re usually hired on full time with a good salary. If you can get a good effect that can be used in a few shows, people will come to see it, even if you can’t get the actors you want. Even someone who can maintain those kinds of devices is worth keeping to yourself.”
“So he probably wasn’t killed for something he was working on.”
“He might have heard things while he was working,” Ada pointed out. “Could he have heard something he shouldn’t have?”
“That was my theory, but I don’t know that we could find out.”
“And why do it the night of the party?” Kate asked. “I suppose having the costumes would mean you had a reason to be disguised.”
“Or it could have been the only time they were able to get in,” Ada suggested.
“Inspector Burrows thinks someone associated with the theater is more likely. The office where he was killed was kept locked, but there was a key on top of a cabinet on the landing outside.”
“Not much point to locking it, then,” Kate muttered.
“Exactly what I thought,” I agreed. “And most of the people working in the theater knew the key was there.”
“But the other guests wouldn’t unless they knew someone in the theater,” Ada finished the line of thought. “At least it narrows things down. And Inspector Burrows will do a thorough job of investigating.”
“And since you’re here,” Kate added, changing the subject, “you can help me test another invention.”
I sincerely hoped it would not involve more severed heads, even if they were mechanical.
“More of an improvement,” Ada said as Kate disappeared into the back room.
That sounded promising.
Kate brought out a small mechanical bird, about the size of a small wren, with copper feathers and black bead eyes. “The idea is it will find the magnetic field of the nearest aviary, so you don’t have to set it for a specific place. Then the aviary staff can take out the note and send it on to its final destination like they normally do. So you can have a bird with you to send out a note whenever you need to.”
That was certainly a useful feature, but I saw a problem with it. “So they’ll just let anyone send a bird to one of the aviaries without an account?”
“Not yet,” Kate said. “But for now it’s using the systems businesses use where they send birds to their local aviary and the aviary forwards on the message and bills the account. If it works out, I’m hoping they’ll let people have a running account and get billed at the end of the month the way they do for businesses. For the moment, this one is tied to our account. Ada and I have tried it a few times and I think we’ve gotten everything worked out, but now we need another tester.”
“And you have been nominated,” Ada finished as she got a quilted pouch from behind the counter to protect the bird’s feathers as I transported it.
“Just keep it in your handbag and when you find a need for it, use it. We’ll let you know how it worked.”
I couldn’t really say no to that. I slipped the bird into my handbag and the conversation moved on to more important things, like what was good at the nearby bakery (custard tarts and spice cake) and what I’d found out about the theater while at the party (not as much as I’d have liked). When customers started coming into the shop on their way home from work, I left, stopping by the bakery to get both custard tarts and spice cake, as I needed something for tea and something for breakfast.