Next morning Jessica swung into action, marshalling a full turn-out of construction crew to work on the theatre. It would require a major effort to unscrew the rows of seats from the floor to get them out of the way of the carpet cleaner, and the more help they had available, the quicker the job would be done.
Gazza swore as his drill bit buzzed futilely in a burred screw head.
‘That bloody girl’s still causing trouble even after she’s dead! Shifting these feckin’ seats wasn’t on the schedule until we had the money for a new floor. How are we supposed to fasten them back down with the boards in this state?’
‘The same way as we’ve made do the last couple of times,’ Howard reminded him. ‘Fill the holes with glue and matchsticks so the screws will hold a bit longer. We’ll be fine until there’s a bunch of excited kids at a panto that rock the whole front row backwards. The domino effect.’
‘Feckin’ waste of time,’ muttered Gazza.
Jessica was inclined to agree, but at least the carpet would look better for losing its thin topcoat of potato chip grease and ice-cream smears.
‘Cheer up guys,’ she said brightly. ‘I’ll bring in a few beers when we’re done.’
‘Oh, why didn’t you say so before,’ said Gazza bravely, trying to sound more cheerful. Jessica gave him a pat on the shoulder and headed out to the Green Room to see how Stewart and Nathan were getting on with stacking the heavy rows of seats.
‘Hi Jessica,’ panted Stewart. ‘Could you give us a hand with this for a second?’
She took some of the weight in the middle of the row they were struggling with and helped them get it in position next to the rest. The cast-iron frames made the seats punishingly hard to manoeuvre.
‘I’ll get a couple of the others to come back here and help if you like.’
Stewart nodded, too breathless to speak.
‘Thanks. They’re really heavy,’ said Nathan.
‘How are you guys?’ asked Jessica. ‘I mean, since finding the body. It must have been pretty horrendous for you.’
‘Yeah,’ said Nathan. ‘Creepiest thing that’s ever happened to me, that’s for sure. It’s been amazing for my work though. I’m moving into like, a real dark phase. Heavy, dramatic stuff. Kind of lets it all out, you know?’ He looked at his friend. ‘Not so easy for Stewie though. You just think happy thoughts, don’t you mate?’
‘At least I’ve got things to be happy about,’ said Stewart, looking up at him from where he’d slumped exhausted on the floor.
Jessica smiled and left them to it, promising to send help out right away.
Back in the auditorium, the guys were working slowly towards the back rows of seats, looking noticeably reluctant to approach the scene where the body had been found.
‘Have you got enough light to see what you’re doing?’ asked Jessica. ‘I can rig up a work-light to make this dark corner less shadowy if you like.’
‘Yeah, that might help, ta,’ was Gazza’s offhand reply. She smiled to herself and fetched a halogen light on a stand from the workshop.
Once all the seats had been removed, Jessica called Clara-Jane who busied herself lighting candles in readiness for her cleansing ceremony.
‘What is it that you do, exactly?’ asked Jessica. ‘Have you had to perform this sort of thing before?’
‘Not personally, but my mother used to. I called her last night and she talked me through it. It’s all to do with satisfying the spirits that reside here. If they’re upset, like by violence or extreme unhappiness, then the whole vibe of the building changes. We need to reassure them and let them know that their home is a safe place to be.’
‘Wow. How would they cope if the theatre was pulled down and they had to live in a shopping mall?’
‘Jessica!’ said Clara-Jane, horrified. ‘Don’t say that, even as a joke. That’s just the sort of thing that would upset them even more. Just stay quiet and let me cleanse the theatre’s aura, will you?’
‘Don’t you think you’d be more use cleansing the place with the carpet cleaner?’ Jessica saw the look on her friend’s face and mimed zipping her lips shut.
Clara-Jane placed the candles in the four corners of the auditorium, then lit some incense sticks. Starting from the stage, she walked back and forth across the room, wafting the smoke ahead of her. When she reached the far corner of the back wall where the body had been found, she paused, muttering words that Jessica couldn’t quite hear. She made sweeping gestures that seemed to gather the smoke and guide it towards the rear door of the auditorium. With her long purple skirts brushing across the floor, she made her exit through the door and out into the foyer. Once there, she threw open the double doors and cast the smoke outside.
With perfect timing, Howard pulled up in his van and unloaded the steam cleaner.
‘Thanks for getting the doors open, Clara-Jane. It would be a heck of a job to get this thing in through the side door. Cheers.’
She inclined her head gracefully and allowed him inside.
By mid-afternoon the whole auditorium was physically and spiritually immaculate, the carpet looking several shades lighter as it dried. Howard and Gazza showed Stewart and Nathan how to fill the screw holes, and by the end of a long and tiring day all the seats were back in position.
Howard leaned backwards, easing his aching spine.
‘Who needs to join a gym when we’re getting this sort of exercise?’ He wiped a gleaming forehead on the sleeve of his faded Les Miserables t-shirt. ‘Considering we’re all too tired to go partying tonight, do you want to come round to my place for a quick barbeque? I think I can get MaryAnn to cook so we can all just flop out and relax.’
There was a muted and grateful chorus of approval.
‘I’ll bring those beers I promised,’ said Jessica, earning herself a ragged cheer. ‘We’ve done great things today, team. From tomorrow, we’ll be back to the schedule and on track for the show. Now let’s get going – last one to Howard’s place gets the low-alcohol beer!’
There was a mad dash for the door.
Once flagging energy had been restored by a generous application of sausages and salad, the members of the Regent Theatre society, sprawling in Howard’s backyard, began discussing the murder.
‘Look at it logically,’ said Howard. ‘Assuming it wasn’t just a random attack, who would have wanted Tamara dead?’
‘Most of the people who knew her,’ said Gazza.
‘Gazza! That’s a terrible thing to say!’ Clara-Jane was appalled. ‘She wasn’t a truly bad person, just young and misguided.’
‘Misguided like a missile, more like. Did you not see the damage she was doing to Phil and Pippa? If either of them did it, I’d say it was justified.’
Jessica saw her friend about to explode and swiftly interceded.
‘Of course it wasn’t them, Gazza. Stop making mischief. If you’re just going to wind people up then go inside and do the dishes.’
‘Oh you don’t need to do that,’ exclaimed MaryAnn. ‘But you could put the kettle on while you’re in there.’
Overwhelmed by superior forces, Gazza levered himself up and beat a retreat to the kitchen.
‘Before anyone suggests it, it wasn’t me,’ said Stewart quietly. ‘She made my life pretty unpleasant at times but I would never have thought of doing anything about it.’
‘Good for you, Stewart. That shows what a nice person you are.’ Clara-Jane patted him on the back.
‘I thought about it,’ admitted Nathan. ‘Oh, not killing her or anything, just getting her to shut up about Stewart somehow. But I hadn’t figured out how. I’m not sorry she’s gone but it was someone else who managed it.’
‘Wasn’t there some fuss with Austin at that last rehearsal?’ asked Howard. ‘What was all that about?’
‘He offered her a costume for her role as Nadine the nurse,’ said Jessica. ‘Understandably, Tamara took offence when she saw it.’
‘Ah. The Naughty Nurse outfit, was it?’ Howard grinned. ‘I can imagine her wearing it in her, um, professional capacity, but only if she was getting paid for it. And having Austin suggest it would definitely have made her mad. Did she yell?’
‘Oh yes! Tore strips off him in front of the whole cast, made him look about two inches tall. She’d probably still be telling him off if some woman in the auditorium hadn’t reined her in sharply.’
‘Yeah, real sour-looking old bat. Who was that?’
‘Don’t know,’ said Jessica. ‘I told the police about her but couldn’t give them any details. Maybe Adam knows who she was.’
‘So Austin might possibly have felt humiliated enough to retaliate, do you think?’
They all pondered the idea for a while.
‘Can’t see it myself, but who knows how his mind works,’ said Howard finally. ‘Is there anyone else in the frame? Who haven’t we thought of?’
Stewart cleared his throat hesitantly.
‘Wasn’t she going out with Nick? Maybe they had a quarrel of some kind?’
Jessica remembered Nick’s garbled words as he turned up drunk on her doorstep. She stayed silent, uneasily questioning herself about times and dates.
Gazza ambled back from the kitchen and flopped down in a deckchair.
‘OK, dishes are done and the kettle’s boiled. Where are we up to? Has anyone accused me yet?’
‘Did you have a reason to kill her?’ asked Howard.
‘Only the fact that she was a total pain in the arse. But there are plenty of other people I consider pains in the arse and I haven’t topped them yet, so that’s not going to fly. What about you, mate? Did you do her in?’
Jessica saw the merest flicker of a wink pass between Howard and MaryAnn.
‘Yes! But only because she was trying to blackmail him!’ said MaryAnn dramatically. ‘Howard had been having a stupid affair and Tamara found out about it. She insisted that Howard had to buy her silence. Thank God he had the good sense to come to me and admit it all, otherwise we’d have been fleeced out of everything we own.’
‘WHAT?’
‘So I killed her myself before she could tell anyone else. I wouldn’t have Howard’s good name dragged through the mud by that little tramp.’
‘WHAT?’
Too late, Gazza realised the joke.
‘Aw Christ, I must be bloody tired for you to have put that one over. You bastards, you deserve each other.’
Beer and exhaustion combined to send them all into hysterical giggles. The logical approach had given way to lunacy.
‘Why did you kill her, Jessica?’ asked Howard. ‘Let’s hear your reason.’
‘Easy,’ said Jessica promptly. ‘I was insanely jealous because Austin was paying more attention to her than he was to me. When he gave her that erotic vinyl Naughty Nurse outfit, it was the final straw. It should have been mine, all mine!’
The prospect of Nurse Jessica in fur-trimmed panties seducing a panting Austin had them howling in protest. Howard wiped tears from his eyes and looked at Clara-Jane.
‘Your turn. Why did you kill her, Clara-Jane?’
‘I recognised her from one of my previous lives. In her last reincarnation she was an evil demon who caused terrible destruction in the world. She escaped from me back then, so when I saw her again I knew I had to release her satanic energy back into the underworld.’
‘Jeez, somebody’s been watching too many episodes of Twilight.’
‘All right Gazza,’ she retorted. ‘Let’s hear why you had to kill her after all.’
‘National security.’
‘OK, go on. We need more than that.’
‘If I told you I’d have to kill you too.’
‘Not good enough, Gazza. Give us a reason or you lose the game.’
‘All right, but you’ll have to swear to keep this secret.’
‘Yes, get on with it!’ said Howard. ‘You’re just dragging this out till you can think of something!’
‘She would have blown my cover. As soon as she walked into the theatre, I compared her to the picture in my top secret briefing papers and knew she was a spy who turned traitor two years ago. She would have recognised me, eventually, and given me away to the enemy, so she had to be silenced.’
The group was quiet for a moment while they processed this piece of information, then Jessica intoned solemnly, ‘The name’s Bond. Gazza Bond.’
They all cracked up.
‘Bloody hell,’ gasped Howard. ‘You’ve certainly been in deep cover. Nobody would ever imagine you in an immaculate dinner suit ordering cocktails! Hell of a disguise mate, well done!’
Gazza doffed his battered leather cap and bowed, a grin creasing his stubbled features.
‘I’ve got one,’ said Stewart eagerly. ‘Why did Adam kill her?’
‘Ooh, that’s a good one,’ said Jessica. ‘What reason could Adam possibly have to want Tamara dead?’
Their brains, muzzy with alcohol and tiredness, trawled for ideas.
‘Got it!’ said Clara-Jane eventually. ‘She approached him with faked paperwork proving that she was his daughter from an illicit liaison with an actress years ago. She demanded money to set up her own business but he could see that she would keep coming back with more and more demands for years to come. She’d follow him round the country, auditioning for every show he was directing, and he’d never be rid of her. Finally he snapped, and so did her neck. The end.’
There was a round of applause.
Nathan raised his hand. His dreadlocks quivered with suppressed giggles.
‘I think Simone tripped up and fell on her, and she suffocated!’
Clara-Jane, herself no lightweight, fixed him with a steely gaze but couldn’t keep from laughing with the rest of them.
‘You’re a cheeky little sod, Nathan. You wait till you’re a bit older and have plenty of cash for beer and food. If you’re that skinny when you’re thirty, I’ll eat rice wafers for a week. I tell you what though,’ Clara-Jane added thoughtfully, ‘as far as solving this murder goes, there is a likely candidate on the crew who could do that.’
‘There is?’ Howard looked puzzled.
‘Yes, right under our noses. Haven’t you noticed how Gert looks just like Miss Marple? She may not hail from St Mary’s Mead but I bet she has a shrewd grasp of human nature.’
‘Better her than that bloody little Belgian git. Hercule Poirot always annoyed the hell out of me,’ said Gazza. ‘Such a smug, self-righteous windbag.’
‘I always wondered why Hastings put up with him,’ said Howard. ‘Perhaps there was some kind of unspoken homoerotic subtext there.’
‘What!’ Clara-Jane looked mildly disapproving. ‘You guys think everything’s about sex, don’t you?’
Jessica stole a quick glance at Stewart but he appeared untroubled.
‘Well, most of the old girl’s murders were motivated by sex or passion, weren’t they?’ said Howard. ‘Human nature hasn’t changed much since she wrote her novels, just the world around us. Fewer servants, for one thing.’
‘That’s true. Not many subservient butlers lurking unnoticed round the theatre to quietly slip cyanide into the champagne,’ said Clara-Jane.
‘Talking of butlers, does one of you want to pass me another beer?’ asked Gazza. ‘I’m parched over here. You can skip the cyanide though.’
‘Here you go, mate.’ Howard handed him a bottle. ‘So when we’re back in the theatre tomorrow, should we tell Gert she’s our great white hope for solving the mystery – or will she figure that part out as well?’
‘Oh, let’s allow the plods to have a crack at it first, just to be sporting,’ said Jessica. ‘Some of them seem reasonably bright.’
Something in her voice caught Clara-Jane’s attention.
‘Oh yes? Who have you been talking to, Jessica? The interviewing officer I spoke to was nothing to write home about. Did you get someone more exciting?’
‘No! I only got to see Detective Senior Sergeant Matherson. Nobody special. Oh, and the officer who took my prints down at the station. Like you said, nothing to get excited about.’
‘It took me ages to get that damned ink off my fingers,’ said Gazza. ‘Bloody nuisance. They seemed to take a special interest just because I was last out of the building on Saturday.’
‘Hey, Gazza,’ said Jessica, sounding concerned. ‘What happens when they run your prints through the database and discover your secret?’
‘Eh?’
‘Your under-cover alter-ego top spy secret. It’ll blow your cover wide open!’
* * *
Next day, there were a few sore heads among the construction crew as they hauled the hotel set into position.
‘Somebody remind me why we do this?’ said Howard.
Gazza grunted.
‘Because it’s so much fun?’ offered Shane, one of the teenagers on the crew.
‘Why? Because it’s our duty as highly-educated and well-resourced intellectuals to bring theatrical culture to a mass audience,’ said Jessica brightly. ‘Thus expanding their understanding of the world around them and helping to clarify their place in it.’
‘You had the low-alcohol beer last night, didn’t you,’ accused Gazza.
‘Yep. That’s why I was making so much more sense than the rest of you.’
Howard grabbed Gazza’s cap and threw it at her, spinning it like a nunchuck. She fielded it neatly and handed it back to its owner.
‘So, Mr Construction Manager, what’s our task for today?’ Jessica asked.
‘To sort out this blasted elevator, mainly. We’re going to need a sliding door in this wall, and that nuisance of a pointer indicator thingy that shows what floor the lift’s on.’
‘OK, how about I take care of the indicator while you guys do the door. Are you up to it?’
‘As long as you stop being so bloody cheerful,’ groaned Howard. ‘Thanks for taking care of that, Jessica – aren’t you wonderful? Now, has anybody seen my pencil?’
Gazza threw one at him.
Jessica retreated to the workshop and busied herself with a piece of plywood.
After an hour’s work she had made a passable attempt at a lift indicator. She put a coat of paint on it and went to see how the guys were doing.
The stage was littered with tools and covered in drifts of sawdust. Howard and Shane were holding the sliding door while Gazza checked the clearance in the doorframe. There didn’t appear to be anything she could help them with so Jessica grabbed a broom and swept up the sawdust to clear the work area. Then, once again, she went into the Green Room to make coffee.
The cast members were having a break from their rehearsal in the Rose Room. Simone was complaining to anyone who would listen about the inconvenience of police interviews.
‘They parked their police car right outside my house, didn’t even have the common sense to use an un-marked vehicle. Heaven knows what the neighbours thought. They might just as well have cordoned off the garden with police tape and hung a “guilty” sign on the front gate. I don’t know why we pay our taxes for dolts who treat us like common criminals.’
‘So they didn’t find the hydroponic marijuana in your greenhouse then, Simone?’ Pippa asked innocently.
‘Don’t be absurd. The only thing growing in my greenhouse is a perfectly splendid crop of tomatoes, thank you very much.’
‘So the P lab in the cellar remains undiscovered then?’ said Jessica on her way to the sink.
‘Oh very droll, dear. I thought you of all people might have had some sense. Apparently I was wrong.’
‘Sorry, Simone. I was just trying to keep the mood light. I know it’s been upsetting for all of us. These little jokes are just our way of breaking the tension. No harm intended.’
Simone sniffed haughtily and stalked off, back to the Rose Room.
‘You know, I’m never quite sure if she’s playing her character or just being herself,’ said Pippa. ‘Sometimes there’s not much to choose between them.’
‘That’s one of the skills of good casting,’ said Adam. ‘Finding actors who can use the least effort in changing from their normal selves to the character they’re portraying.’
‘Well, I reckon you got it dead right with Simone,’ said Pippa. ‘She’s perilously close to Ada Boynton, and just like in the script there are times when we all want to do her in!’
There was a moment’s silence.
‘No,’ said Jessica at last, having given the matter some thought. ‘I think just the one murder per season, don’t you? We don’t want to deter new members, do we?’
The following night, most of the cast had gathered on the stage ready for rehearsal when Pippa burst in looking wide-eyed and anxious.
‘Sorry I’m late everyone, sorry Adam.’ Her normally immaculate appearance had given way to messed-up hair and a cardigan buttoned up wrongly. ‘I’m afraid Phil’s not going to make it to rehearsal tonight, Adam…’ her voice caught and she swallowed hard. ‘He’s been taken in for questioning. The police came and picked him up about half an hour ago, they said it was just routine enquiries but they took him away in a police car. I don’t know what to do.’ She looked around the group. ‘How can they possibly suspect him? You guys don’t think he did it, do you?’
The rest of the cast clustered round her in support. Adam took both her hands in his and held them clasped against his chest.
‘No, of course we don’t. All right, Pippa, take it easy now. Take a breath. And again. Relax those muscles.’ He looked intently into her eyes as she drew a deep breath and blew it out again. ‘That’s better.’
Jessica darted out back to the Green Room and returned with a glass of water which she handed to Adam. He nodded his thanks.
‘Here you are, Pippa, sip some of this. OK? Feeling calmer now? What do you need to do? Would you rather be with him at the police station, or do you think you need to arrange a lawyer for him?’
Pippa shook her head helplessly.
‘I have no idea. I just don’t know what to do.’
‘What exactly did they say to him?’ Jessica asked gently. ‘Did it seem like they were interested in him for some specific reason?’
‘They said something about a row at the school, a couple of years ago. Phil was overheard yelling at Tamara and some bloody little student remembered it and told the police.’ She looked up at Adam. ‘It can’t have been anything serious – I certainly don’t remember any trouble about it at the time.’ She shook her head in disbelief. ‘It just doesn’t make any sense. They took a DNA sample as well, right there in the kitchen. Swabbed inside his cheek just like they do on TV. It’s all so unreal, and yet it’s happening to us.’
‘OK Pippa, here’s what I want you to do,’ said Adam firmly. ‘Go and sit down quietly, let yourself calm down a bit so that you can think straight. If you want to go home or to the police station and need company, I’m sure Jessica wouldn’t mind going with you for moral support.’ His eyes flicked to Jessica for confirmation and she nodded. ‘We’re going to get on with the rehearsal now, and if you feel up to it and want to join in that’s fine too. You’ve got five pages before your first line.’
He shooed her off to a chair in the wings.
‘Stewart, when we’ve got past your lines as the clerk can you read Phil’s part please, from page six onwards?’ Stewart’s head lifted in surprise. ‘Right, let’s get started.’
By the end of page four, Pippa gave Jessica a thumbs-up and a weak smile, and went to take her allotted place onstage.
When the session was over, Adam called Jessica aside for a quiet word.
‘I suppose we’d better plan for the worst. If Phil is going to be, ah, unavailable, then I’d like to think we have a replacement ready on standby. At a pinch, Stewart could do the role with a little extra make-up to age him a few years. He’s not as strong an actor as Phil, but in this role it wouldn’t matter too much. It’s probably going to be easier to replace the hotel clerk as that role can be played by any age. Can you think of anyone we could draft in at short notice?’
Jessica thought back to the men who had turned up for auditions.
‘Do you remember that guy Terence? About forty-five, scrawny sort of chap? He’s usually available, and he can act OK, he just tends not to get picked for shows because he’s such a drag backstage.’
‘Frankly, backstage behaviour is the least of our worries right now. How about giving him a call to see if he’ll do it? If he’s up to it we might get him to understudy a couple of the other roles, just in case the police decide to expand their number of suspects.’
‘Oh God, don’t say that,’ shuddered Jessica. ‘If you start thinking along those lines I might just end up in some ultimate casting emergency playing Simone’s role.’
‘Never, my dear, it would require far too much make-up and padding.’
Jessica grinned and blew him a kiss as she went off to her office to call Terence. The phone rang five or six times before a reedy voice answered.
‘Hello? Terence here.’
‘Hello Terence, it’s Jessica, from the Regent Theatre. How are you?’ Immediately she regretted letting the words out of her mouth, as Terence took her enquiry literally and began an extensive listing of his various medical problems. In a micropause between ulcers and piles she managed to insert her question.
‘Would you be interested in understudying a couple of roles for us in our current show, Terence? Adam has asked for you specifically, if you’re available.’
‘Well, it would mean learning lines, wouldn’t it? I have been having some memory lapses now and again, possibly early-onset Alzheimers they think, but I’d be happy to give it a try with what brain cells I have left. I’ve been taking Omega 3 capsules and they’re certainly helping with –’
‘That’s sounds great, Terence, I’m sure you’ll be just fine. If you can make it to rehearsal tomorrow night at 7, then Adam will fill you in on the details. Thanks so much Terence, bye!’
Jessica hung up the phone and groaned. What misery had she just inflicted on the entire company?