CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX

Three marshmallows fell out of Kip’s mouth.

“Lucas Quest?” he mumbled through the two remaining marshmallows.

“Yes.” I nodded confidently.

“I never like that boy,” said Fanella. “I knew he was ghost.”

“He isn’t a ghost,” I said, pressing my hand to my forehead. “He’s just a boy.”

“Why do you think Lucas did it, Poppy?” Pym asked gently.

“OK,” I said, standing up. “First of all, I spoke to his mum today. She said that he came home from rehearsal covered in blood.”

“Blood?” Boris looked a bit queasy.

“Not real blood,” I said, impatiently.

“What day was this?” asked Ingrid beadily.

“Monday,” I said, and I saw the light dawning in her eyes.

“What’s that got to do with anything?” asked Kip, reaching for another handful of marshmallows. “There’s loads of fake blood in the performance. Letty made sure of that.”

“But not on Monday,” I said quickly. “Monday was the first day of rehearsals – we didn’t have any props yet or fake blood. It was, however, the day the warning appeared – written in wet red paint.”

Ingrid jumped to her feet. “And Lucas refused to take off his coat and gloves,” her eyes sparkled, “because they must have been covered in paint. Just like Lady Macbeth, he couldn’t wash the red paint off. How pleasing,” she said to herself.

“And he came in a bit late and was all touchy when Dweebles asked where he had been, remember?” I said.

Kip nodded and stuffed another marshmallow in his face, his eyes wide. “You’re right!” he said. (Or at least I think he did. It sounded more like “Murr Miggh!”)

“And Lucas could easily have poisoned Gary; he was the one chatting with him before the performance. He could definitely have slipped something into his sandwich,” I pointed out.

“But why would he do these things?” asked Fanella.

“And none of this explains why you think he started the fire,” said Marvin.

“Penny said he wasn’t with them when the fire started!” I exclaimed. “She said he went off with Maxwell, having an argument but he could easily have slipped away.”

“But why?” asked Ingrid. “Why would Lucas sabotage the play?”

“Don’t you see?” I cried. “He wasn’t sabotaging the play; he was getting rid of the actors, working his way up into a starring role! He used the fire to get the publicity and make everyone think the play was cursed. Then to really terrify people he left that horrible message, so that Banquo left in panic and he got his part. He poisoned Gary’s sandwich, hoping that his trick would work twice. When all the local reporters came to the play it would be to see him in the lead part; only he couldn’t predict that Maxwell would decide to play Macbeth himself. So today he put another plan into motion. He knew exactly where Maxwell would be standing in that scene, right underneath the chandelier, so earlier he sneaked in and cut the rope that held it, apart from just a few strands. All he had to do was stall the scene until the rope snapped and the part would be his!”

I finished my speech and everyone sat in round-eyed silence.

“I can’t believe it!” Ingrid exclaimed. “He could have killed Maxwell!”

“No,” I shook my head, “it was only papier-mâché. It would have given him a nasty knock, but it wouldn’t have killed him.”

“I think it all makes sense,” said Pym. “Too much sense to be a coincidence. But the trouble is you don’t have any evidence.”

I sank back into my seat. “I know,” I admitted, “and I don’t know how to get any.”

“We make him confess,” said Fanella, calmly examining her fingernails. “Boris have ways of making him talk.” Boris cracked his knuckles ominously.

“Obviously we can’t do that,” I said, shaking my head. Kip looked disappointed.

“I get you, Tomato.” Fanella gave me an elaborate wink. “OBVIOUSLY we CAN’T do that.”

“That’s right,” I said. “We can’t. Obviously.”

“Yes. Riiiiight.” Fanella winked again, and I shook my head.

“Actually, I think I might have an idea,” I said slowly. I whispered a question in Marvin’s ear.

Marvin looked thoughtful. “Will Lucas be here for Parents’ Weekend?” he asked.

“Yes,” I replied. “His fan club were chattering about it. He’s going to meet Annabelle’s parents.”

Marvin nodded and rubbed his hands together gleefully.

“Well Luigi, I think you’d better start learning Banquo’s lines,” I said, sweeping my arms forward in a dramatic gesture.

“Eh?!” said Luigi, looking panicky. “No, no old gal, more of a background figure myself. Play a soldier or a tree if you like, but not a big part like that.”

“I’ll do it,” boomed Boris. “Always fancied myself as an actor. Not keen on the name Banquo though. . . What about Boris?”

“Fine, fine,” I grumbled, “you’re ruining my dramatic moment. What I’m saying is that someone needs to be ready to step in for Lucas because I’ve got a plan to make him confess everything. And we’ll do it tomorrow!”