DELPHI CLAPPED HER HAND over her mouth. “You did not!”
“You quoted Jay-Z at the cop?” Sunil threw his head back and roared with laughter.
“Paraphrased, but yeah.” Isobel pushed open the theater door and shivered in the cold air. It was well past midnight. Delphi and Sunil had been questioned also, while Isobel and Hugh, whose interview was scheduled for the next day, had waited for them in the lobby. They started down the street toward the condo, which was five blocks away.
“Only you, Isobel,” Delphi said, linking arms with her.
Hugh trotted to keep up with them. “You might have made an enemy.”
“Dear Hugh, ever my protector,” Isobel said with a laugh. She squeezed his hand and was surprised when he drew back.
“I’m serious. I’m sure you were enjoying yourself immensely, but perhaps a little restraint was in order, under the circumstances?”
“I restrained myself as much as I could, considering he accused me outright of killing Arden.”
“I’m sure he doesn’t really think you did. He was just pushing your buttons,” Hugh said.
“Yeah, and she beeped, loud and clear,” Sunil said.
“My interview was quick, in and out,” Delphi said. “I had my train receipt and the receipt from the cab, and they confirmed with Miriam in the box office that I was in the audience. Even though, as Dillon pointed out, I also benefited from Arden’s death.”
“He certainly seems fixated on that,” Sunil said.
“He was forced to admit that in my case it was a stretch, and he let me go with a warning to watch my back,” Delphi said.
“He must be warning you against me,” Isobel said. “Guess I didn’t convince him.”
“Oh, and Kelly told me that once Arden’s stuff is packed up, I can take her room.”
“Don’t leave me!” Isobel clutched her melodramatically.
“I won’t. At least not right away. I don’t mind my little pallet on the floor, or I can take the couch. Truth is, I’m not hankering to move into the other condo. I don’t know those people at all, and what if one of them is a murderer?”
“Dillon isn’t wrong that unless it’s a crime of passion, the killer is usually someone who benefits from the death,” Hugh said. “And I don’t see what Marissa, Ezra, or Chris get from Arden’s death.”
“In my experience—” Isobel began.
Delphi groaned. “Here we go.”
“Well, I have had some.” Isobel allowed herself a flash of attitude. “And yes, usually the killer has something to gain. I think Dillon is missing the big picture, though. He’s looking at this as a personal crime and trying to figure out who benefits from Arden’s death, which even I have to admit is primarily me. I suppose it could be a crime of passion, although it seems premeditated. But I think he’s barking up the wrong tree, because of all the other stuff. The ultimate benefit to the killer isn’t from Arden’s death—it’s from the death of the show. I told him as much.”
“I’m sure he loved that,” Delphi said snidely.
“Dillon asked me about my relationships with everyone in the company, and he seemed stumped when he couldn’t connect me to Arden in any meaningful way,” Sunil said.
“That’s because he can’t,” Isobel said. “You didn’t have much to do with her.”
Sunil paused on the steps leading up to their building. “That never stopped anyone from suspecting the dark-skinned guy.”
He had his keys at the ready and opened the door. They crept up the stairs silently and entered the apartment. No light streamed from under Talia’s door. She had left the theater as soon as she’d been released, obviously distraught, and must have gone straight to bed. Like Hugh, she was on the interview list for the following day.
An awkward silence descended as they stood in the foyer, each acknowledging the unfortunate truth of Sunil’s statement, which still rang in their ears.
“Plans for tomorrow?” Isobel whispered finally.
“I’d like to check out the capitol,” Sunil replied.
“Don’t bother,” Delphi said. “I grew up in upstate New York, and we had to go every year in elementary school. Trust me, it’s a poor substitute for DC.”
“How about a movie?” Isobel suggested.
“I’d like to join, but I have my interview with Dillon at eleven,” Hugh said.
“We’ll check the listings in the morning and pick a time when you can come.” Isobel gave him a kiss. “We wouldn’t dream of leaving you out.”
There was nothing decent showing at the movie theater, and in the end, they spent the day hanging around the condo. When Hugh returned from his interview, they passed the afternoon playing Celebrity. They made it through all three rounds, frequently lapsing into gales of laughter despite their barely concealed competitive streaks. Although Delphi was irate over Hugh’s lack of familiarity with The Producers, she cackled hardest at his attempts to convey Max Bialystock with the clues “a bagel without a hole” and “summer theater from hell.” Similarly, he was irked that she’d never heard of Herbert von Karajan, but was impressed with her ingenuity in coming up with “luggage you bring onto an airplane.” Isobel and Sunil trounced them handily, and they were still reliving their best moments when they got to the theater that evening.
“I can’t believe you’ve never seen The Producers,” Isobel said to Hugh, “but you’ve been in New York long enough to know what a bialy is.”
“Seriously,” Sunil added. “Your Yiddish education has some weird gaps.”
“You should be glad I didn’t put in Pussy Galore,” Hugh said.
They cracked up anew at that, and then it was time to part ways to their dressing rooms. Kelly was waiting in the hall for Isobel.
“Got a sec?”
“Sure.”
Kelly gestured around the corner, where the hallway continued several feet before dead-ending in a broom closet.
“I found my book,” she said, a note of uncertainty in her voice. “It was on my table in the booth when I got in this afternoon.”
“And my script page with the note was gone,” Isobel guessed.
Kelly nodded. “I thought someone was trying to keep the show from going up on time last night, but it looks like they wanted to get rid of the note. Why wouldn’t the person just grab the paper and throw it out?”
“Maybe they didn’t have time to rifle through looking for it,” Isobel suggested.
“But who even saw me put it there?”
“There were plenty of people standing around at the end of the dress rehearsal when I gave it to you,” Isobel reminded her. “Did you tell Dillon about it?”
“It wasn’t until I got the book back and realized all the papers in the front pocket were gone that I remembered it. I was so focused on finding a way to call the show last night I forgot it was even in there.”
“What do you mean all the papers?” Isobel said. “What else is missing?”
“Directorial notes, old set renderings. The copies of your Equity contract. You’ll have to sign them again.”
“Oh!”
“But do you think I should tell Dillon now?”
Isobel pursed her lips thoughtfully. “Since we can’t produce the note, maybe we should keep quiet. For now, at least.”
“I was thinking the same,” Kelly said, sounding relieved.
“Can I ask you something in confidence?”
“Sure.”
“Who benefits if the show gets shut down?” Isobel asked.
Isobel waited expectantly, but Kelly only shook her head.
“Couldn’t say,” she replied. “Okay. We’re at half hour.”
Isobel returned to her dressing room, then changed her mind and knocked on the door of Delphi and Marissa’s room. Delphi came out in her camisole and petticoat, shutting the door behind her.
“Stage manager’s book turned up, but the ‘Die, bitch’ note is missing,” Isobel said softly.
“Somebody is covering their tracks,” Delphi said.
“I’m not sure.” Isobel’s brow furrowed. “If you were really planning to commit murder, why would you declare your intentions like that? It could only get you in trouble later.”
“You don’t think the note writer killed Arden?”
“No. Someone wrote that note out of anger—either at Arden or at me—and now that Arden’s dead, she’s afraid it’ll look like she did it. And to be honest, if the person is discovered, she’ll have a hard time convincing Dillon otherwise.”
“You said she,” Delphi pointed out.
“I did? I wasn’t thinking about it. But yeah, it seems more like something a woman would do.”
“Did you tell Dillon about the note?”
“No, and Kelly didn’t either. We both forgot about it. But I’m glad I didn’t. It would only feed the idea that Arden’s death was the primary goal. My gut still says otherwise.”
Thomas appeared to help Delphi into her costume, and Isobel returned to her dressing room, which she was relieved to find empty. Talia’s street clothes were folded neatly over her chair, and her costume hanger was bare. Isobel could hear her vocalizing in the stairwell and wondered why she was the only one who ever thought to avail herself of the empty rehearsal studios upstairs.
The curtain went up on time, but the police interviews had taken a toll on the company. Everybody’s energy was off. Chris fumbled several lyrics in his first song, and Isobel was so distracted thinking about her exchange with Kelly that she started to go onstage with Sunil for Emma’s scene, and he had to push her back.
She hung in the wings and watched Sunil and Delphi play their scene. Delphi certainly looked lovely. Her skirt was hanging properly now. Either Thomas had done a better job jerry-rigging her fake bustle or he’d located a replacement. Isobel had to admit that Delphi was balancing Emma’s vitality with the sweetness Jethro had chided Isobel for lacking. For all her contemporary gloss, Delphi had a natural way with period style. Chris made his entrance, and Sunil rejoined Isobel in the wings.
“That went well,” he commented.
“She looks beautiful,” Isobel said.
Sunil sighed. “Tell me about it.”
The scene segued into “Song of the Sea” in its revised solo version. Although Isobel had enjoyed singing her part, she recognized the scene was tighter this way. And then she was back on.
“Oh, Jennie, you’ve made me the happiest man on earth!” Chris exclaimed. He reached for Isobel, who pulled away demurely. “Please? Not just a tiny kiss?”
On impulse, Isobel reached out to stroke Chris’s cheek, a tender gesture that surprised both of them. She could practically see Jethro making a note, “Too forward!”
She snatched her hand away. “Not until we’re married.”
The band began “The Washington Post,” and Chris spread his arms wide, singing:
I’ll probably die if you don’t kiss me,
Yes, that’s what I most want you to do,
You simply have got to see it through!
He pulled Isobel onto his knee, and she smiled sweetly at him as he continued to sing.
But suddenly, in place of Chris’s face, perspiring under the lights, Isobel saw once more the image of Delphi’s sleek silhouette, and her smile froze. She glanced into the wings, where Sunil gave her a thumbs-up. Forgetting where she was and what she was doing, she shook her head frantically.
Chris pulled Isobel to her feet and twirled her around, but she felt her body strain against his. He whirled her onto his knee again for the end of the song, and the lights dimmed as the orchestra struck up the gazouta. Isobel wrenched herself free, gathered her skirt, and ran into the wings, not caring that the audience could see her in the half light.
She had to stop Delphi from sitting down, before it was too late.