I hadn't made it ten steps on Pickford Way when Constance came scurrying out of seemingly nowhere to talk to me. She kept peeking around in a paranoid fashion as if she worried someone might see her talking to me. She seemed distraught and not herself.
"Lacey, I was looking for you. I saw you earlier but then you vanished."
"I was taking a walk on the wharf. What can I do for you? You seem upset."
She pressed her hand to her chest. "Yes, it's just I've discovered something that I think I should show someone. But since I can't trust anyone in the group"—she leaned closer—"you know, in case one of them is the killer, I spotted you and since you're with Detective Briggs—" Her breath was coming in short spurts as she tried to get it all out.
I put my hand on her arm. "Slow down and take a breath. Then you can show me, and I'll talk to Detective Briggs. No one from the theater group needs to know."
Constance nodded and paused dramatically to catch her breath. "Thank you. I feel so much better. I'm glad I saw you again. I was so frantic after I lost sight of you earlier." Her little chin tilted to the side. "Were you inspecting the tent? I thought I saw you at the back, near the stage entrances." Her big eyes grew larger. "Did you find anything? Maybe you saw the same thing I saw."
I wasn't exactly sure how to lie my way out of snooping around the tent, so I went with the truth. "I was just checking to see if the evidence team missed anything."
"That's right. You told me you have an extra good sense of smell. Did you find anything? It sure would be nice if they arrested the killer so the rest of us can sleep better."
"I'm sure it'll happen soon. And no, I didn't find anything. But it sure seems like you did. What did you discover?"
She shrank down and peeked around. There was plenty of activity in the town square, but no one seemed the least bit interested in what Constance was doing. They were all going about their business. I did a quick visual sweep of the area, keeping a particular eye out for Johnny. I was relieved not to see him.
"What I have to show you is inside the performance tent," Constance said in a low voice. "Let's walk to the end of the sidewalk and cut across to the back of the tent so no one sees us."
"All right." I had no idea what she would show me considering the entire stage and tent had been searched for evidence the night of the murder. Whatever it was, Constance seemed to think it was important.
Like spies sneaking into the enemy's headquarters, we hunkered down to be less visible. With furtive glances both directions, we skittered across the grass and then raced to the back of the tent. Even though we should have drawn attention with our obvious run, it seemed we made it to the stage entrance without notice.
We stopped at the flaps. Constance put a finger to her lips, telling me to be silent. Then she untied a few of the bows and poked her face into the tent. She pulled it back out. "Coast is clear. There's no one inside." She quickly opened the remaining ties and we slipped into the tent. She pushed the flaps closed to give the appearance that they were still tied shut.
We climbed the three steps to the stage. The first scene, Aunt Em's farmstead, was set up. "Remember when you saw me painting the farmhouse?" she asked, still using a library voice.
I nodded. "Yes, I remember."
We sidled past a barn and a few trees to the farmhouse. It was the same large wooden facade that had fallen on Amanda after her death. It was never completely confirmed how the prop fell or if it was done intentionally by the killer.
"We finished repairing it after it was damaged." Constance grew quiet for a second. "Well, you know why."
"Yes."
"I was helping the prop guys wheel it in to set it back in place on the stage." She crooked her finger for me to follow her to the back of the farmhouse. The rear was unpainted plywood, which made it hard to miss the shiny piece of foil stuck on the wood.
We walked straight to the silver paper. It was the thin metallic kind that artists used to give an object the look of real metal. The roughly edged strip was approximately four inches long and two inches wide. It was caught on the wood edge of the facade. It had plastered itself against the bare wood.
"I noticed the piece of silver when we were positioning the house on stage," Constance said. "I know where it came from too," she added.
"My guess would be that it came from the Tin Man's costume," I said.
"Yep, I can show you the damage on his costume," she said confidently. "It's stored in the costume trailer."
"If you're sure you won't get into trouble. I would like to see it."
She glanced at her phone. "Yes, it'll be easy. The costume designer and wardrobe assistants are in a staff meeting with Susie. But we'll have to hurry."
"Great." I pulled out my own phone. "If you don't mind, before we go, I'd like to take a few pictures of this silver. That way, I can show Detective Briggs."
"Yes," she said a little too enthusiastically. "Yes," she said calmly. "That would be fine."
I wasn't great at taking pictures of evidence, so I took a half dozen shots at different angles.
I pushed the phone back into my pocket. "Let's see the costume."
We walked back to the exit and did everything in reverse. Constance stuck her face through and turned it side to side to make sure the coast was clear. She stepped out and waved me through before tying the flaps back together.
We walked more casually, as if just on a stroll, around the tent. We continued on the pathway toward the costume trailer. A few people seemed to notice the unusual pair walking through the activity, but Constance just smiled and waved as if nothing of note was going on.
Fortunately, the costume trailer had been parked behind a copse of trees. It was hard to see the door from the pathway. We stepped off the path and meandered toward the trees.
Constance glanced back behind us. "It's fine. No one is paying attention to us." She picked up her pace, making quick work of the section of grass between us and the trailer. "Let me go up first and knock," she said. "I can always find a reason for knocking on the trailer door, but it would be harder to explain why you're here."
I nodded. "You're pretty good at this spy stuff," I said. "Maybe you should become a private investigator."
She giggled at my suggestion before climbing the steps to the door. She knocked firmly and waited, then knocked once more. She waved me to come up the steps.
I looked around once and followed her up the steps and into the trailer. It was a tiny space packed wall to wall and shelf to shelf with colorful costumes and hats. There was an entire section of wall filled with pairs of flying monkey wings hanging from hooks. They'd been fashioned with real feathers and were quite impressive close up.
"Your costume designers are talented," I said as I looked around in awe.
"Yes, they are. The producers spared no expense for this traveling play. We were doing well until this happened." She said it flippantly as if Amanda's death had been a terrible inconvenience to everyone.
"Will the show go on?" I asked.
"I'm pretty sure Susana will have no choice but to reschedule opening night and the subsequent shows." Constance looked more than delighted at the prospect. I supposed that was because she would step into the starring role.
Constance squeezed between two racks of costumes, and I slid in after her. The fuzzy tan costume for the Cowardly Lion was hanging in the middle of the rack. The long tail was pinned to the shoulder. It was easy to spot the Tin Man's iconic cylindrical costume. Especially after I'd run right into it on the corner. When I thought back to that incident, Johnny acted inappropriately and forward then too. He was obviously a man who considered himself entitled to paw at any woman he pleased.
Constance sized up the tight space between the two racks. "You'll have to squeeze past me to get a look at the tear. It's on the back near the shoulder joint."
"Right. Can I take a picture?"
"Sure, but just like before, let's be quick about this. The meeting could end at any time. It depends on how much Susie has to discuss."
"I'll hurry." Giddiness was starting to overtake me, the kind I experienced whenever I felt close to solving a crime. It seemed that the evidence Constance was showing me would be explosive to the case. It would figure that grabby, awful man would be capable of murder.
I squeezed past Constance and reached the Tin Man's suit. "Rosemary," I said under my breath. "That should have been the clue."
"What's that?" Constance asked. She had slid out to the end of the rack to keep an eye on the window.
"Oh nothing." I leaned over and twisted around the silver cylinder. Sure enough, a section that matched the piece of silver paper on the house had been ripped from the costume. I held up my phone and snapped a couple highly unprofessional photos.
"We should probably go," Constance said with some urgency.
"Finished. Let's go."
Constance peered out the door and looked from side to side. She opened it and we both hurried down the steps and back to the copse of trees. Constance seemed as giddy as me.
"Do you think this is going to be important to the case? Do you think Johnny did it?" she asked.
"This doesn't prove anything," I said quickly. "Make sure you don't say anything to anyone. It could compromise the case."
"So Johnny did do it?" She was practically rubbing her hands together in glee, which made me wonder if Constance had also been the victim of Johnny's unwanted advances.
"No, I didn't say that at all."
Her mouth pushed out in a disappointed pout. "How can you explain the silver on the house?"
"I'll admit this doesn't look great for Johnny, but it's not enough for an arrest. I'll show Detective Briggs the photos. In the meantime, keep it to yourself. If Johnny is the killer, I don't want you putting yourself in danger by telling others what you've found."
She pressed her fingers to her mouth dramatically. "I hadn't thought of that. Thanks. You're right. Mums the word." She surveyed the area. "You go first. Then I'll walk out after you so we're not seen leaving together."
"Good idea. Thanks for the information."