CHAPTER NINETEEN

Kip, Ingrid and I scuttled over to the side of the stage where we had carefully laid out the props.

Magda was there and she took her place on stage, holding a broomstick alongside another lady I didn’t know, and Madame Patrice, who had been drafted in to play the role of the Third Witch after the original actor had stormed out of the last rehearsal.

“Here I have a pilot’s thumb, wreck’d as homeward he did come,” Magda cackled, and Maxwell pointed at Kip who started banging enthusiastically on a drum.

“A drum, a drum! Macbeth doth come,” Madame Patrice cried, waving her arms from side to side. Then all three witches started chanting and Madame Patrice began whirling across the stage. Letty pressed the button on the smoke machine and clouds of smoke began to billow across the ground.

Kip was bashing the drum with such determination that it was a bit difficult to hear what the witches were saying, but overall the effect was very spooky – I was impressed.

Now it was time for the characters of Macbeth and Banquo to enter the scene.

“So foul and fair a day I have not seen,” Macbeth – or Gary – gasped, beads of sweat running down his face.

“Wow!” I whispered to Ingrid. “That’s amazing acting. He really looks as though all this inner turmoil is making him ill.”

“I think he actually is ill!” Ingrid whispered back. Now she mentioned it he did look quite green.

Lucas was talking now but Gary was swaying on the spot. Lucas finished his lines and looked at Gary. Gary looked back at Lucas. A heavy silence filled the air.

“Speak, if you can,” someone hissed from behind the curtain.

“That’s a bit mean,” I muttered. “He’s obviously forgotten his next line.”

“‘Speak, if you can’ is his next line,” said Ingrid, pointing to the script.

“Speak if you can,” the voice hissed again, more urgently.

Gary opened his mouth. And was promptly sick all over Magda’s shoes.

“Uggggh!” Magda cried, jumping back from the river of vomit that flowed in her direction, and teetering on the edge of the stage. I ran towards her but it was too late. Magda fell backwards with a tremendous crash. “Ooooooowww!” she howled. “My ankle!” Everything was in uproar.

Letty had leapt forward and was trying to put a screeching Magda into the recovery position. The lady playing the Second Witch had clamped her own hands over her mouth and fled off stage. Gary was now being sick into a prop helmet that Ingrid had handed him, and Madame Patrice was performing an elaborate tap dance at the front of the stage, shouting, “The show must go on! I’ve seen far worse than this in my time at the West End!”

Maxwell Dangerfield stood with his head in his hands, and Derek Dweebles burst through the door. “Sorry I’m late,” he boomed. “Had to answer a lot of questions with that blinkin’ police officer—” He stopped short, taking in the scene in front of him. “Blimey O’Reilly, what’s going on here then?” he asked, dumbstruck.

It took about thirty minutes to get everything cleaned up and straightened out. Penny had taken Magda, a very pale Gary and a weeping Second Witch home in her car to recover. All three had made it clear that they wouldn’t be coming back. It seemed as though a jinx really had struck this performance. Now we all stood around waiting to see what Maxwell Dangerfield was going to say. He was pacing up and down and muttering to himself.

I took this opportunity to sidle up to Derek Dweebles who was looking thoroughly miserable in his bright orange suit. “Tough day?” I asked, sympathetically.

Dweebles let out a big sigh. “You don’t know the half of it,” he said. “I spent two hours being interrogated by some jumped-up policeman about the town hall fire.”

“Oh, really?” I asked innocently.

“Yes, and it was a bloomin’ cheek!” he snapped. “They wanted to know to know if I had an alibi. Me! A respected pillar of the community. So I told them, I had sneaked out of the rehearsal to close a deal on a slightly used Ford Escort. I was at my dealership the whole time until I heard all the commotion outside, and there’s security cameras and witnesses there that could tell them the same.” He shook his head grumpily. “It’s outrageous that a man of my calibre should be treated as a suspect. I mean, look at me. . . Do I look like a criminal to you?!”

I dutifully shook my head but my mind was reeling. Dweebles had an alibi?! But if that was true then our number one suspect, really our only suspect, was out of the picture.

“Truth be told,” Dweebles continued in a low voice, “I’ve been thinking about running for mayor – trying to get some goodwill going with donating to the town hall fund. But if word gets out that I’m a suspect in an arson case then my chances will be scuppered.” With a start he seemed to realize that he was saying all of this aloud. “So . . . er . . . keep it to yourself, if you don’t mind, young lady!” His voice got very jolly and he patted me on the shoulder.

After muttering some sympathetic and agreeable-sounding mutterings I returned to Kip and Ingrid. “We need to talk!” I whispered, but then Maxwell Dangerfield clapped his hands and all eyes turned in his direction.

“Well, ladies and gentlemen, we have a problem. Not only are we two witches down, but we seem to have lost our leading man with three days to go before the performance. It appears to me that there is only one possible course of action. . .” He drifted off.

“Ahem.” Lucas Quest cleared his throat. “Perhaps—”

Maxwell lifted his hand. “Yes. There is only one person who can step into the spotlight. The show must go on, and I, Maxwell Dangerfield, will be the star.”

Lucas looked like someone had just slapped him in the face with a wet shoe. Everyone else started clapping. Maxwell lifted his hands again. “Although,” his brow wrinkled, “this does leave us in the difficult position of being short several actors and a director. We need some new recruits and fast. Who can we get in at such short notice with excellent performing experience? We need people who are so fearless they won’t be put off by this jinx nonsense.”

There was a despair-soaked pause, and I cleared my throat. “Um . . . I think I might know some people who can help with that.”