Breakfast with his mum and dad had gone by quickly. Osian decided to check on Ian at the theatre. He knew the camera hadn’t captured anything interesting so far.
Chris kept telling them to be patient. Patience is a virtue. Says everyone who isn’t required to wait.
While he was on the tube, Dannel texted him about the strange encounter with Niall. Intriguing development. Osian wondered what the man had hoped to gain from confronting them.
It hadn’t made them any less suspicious of him.
They texted about Niall and Archie. He also mentioned his auntie Myriam’s weird fetish of hoarding boxes of orange jelly for no reason since no one bought them at the store. Osian had just enough time to offer a few suggestions on Dannel’s initial sketch before arriving at his stop.
Osian was greeted outside the Evelyn Lavelle by what appeared to be the entire ensemble. “Something wrong?”
“He’s panicking in his dressing room.” Hope, one of the principal dancers in the ensemble, gestured toward the theatre. “One of our principles was almost electrocuted in the loo earlier when live wiring dropped in front of him. Have you met Derrick? His parents are part of the—”
“My parents don’t matter. And we don’t actually know what happened,” Derrick, another one of the other dancers, corrected. “We don’t even know if Edwin is seriously injured. He’s dramatic at the best of times.”
“He’s not seriously injured. I heard he’d scarpered from the hospital the second the paramedics dropped him off,” Hope interjected.
Deciding not to make a joke about what an electrifying performance it must’ve been, Osian went to check on Ian. He grabbed his phone to text Chris and Abra to see if she could find out who’d dropped Edwin at the hospital. The cameras might’ve caught something, depending on if the loo was backstage or the ones upfront.
Chris: Don’t go in the loo.
Don’t go in the loo?
I’m not daft. I wouldn’t investigate and get myself electrocuted. Who am I kidding? I definitely would.
Ian first, though.
Osian found Ian panicking while two incredibly familiar detectives tried to ask him questions. He was surprised they’d been called out. “Hello, Detective Inspector squared. Isn’t an electrical accident below your pay grade?”
“I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised to see you here.” Haider shared a glance with his partner, who rolled her eyes. “Try to resist the urge to investigate. And don’t go switching any lights on or off until we figure out what happened.”
“Pardon?” Osian frowned in confusion.
“One of the light switches must have been wired wrong. It caused a short when it was turned on,” Ian answered with his face still buried in a scarf.
“With a shock to one of your actors?” Osian asked when Ian failed to continue. He glanced over at Haider, who was shaking his head. “You don’t think so?”
“I’m not going to jump to any conclusions.”
Ian lifted his head up from the scarf. “My show. My beautiful show. What am I going to do? Murders. Electrocutions. Ghosts.”
Osian eased between the detectives and crouched in front of Ian. “You’re too fabulous to give up.”
“You’re a sweet lad.” Ian patted him on the head. “I’ll never forgive myself if someone else is hurt.”
“Mr Garey. If you wouldn’t mind?” Detective Inspector Powell nodded toward the door. “We’d like to wrap up our questions and determine what exactly has happened.”
Osian squeezed Ian’s hand and got to his feet. “I’ll hang around for a while. You’ll be all right. The show must go on, after all.”
Leaving Ian with the police, Osian stepped out into the hallway. He considered eavesdropping, until Haider poked his head out of the dressing room and suggested he jog on. Rude. It’s almost as if he doesn’t trust me.
It didn’t take long to find the right loo. Police tape once again blocked off a doorway at the Evelyn Lavelle. An Out of Order sign hung on it as an extra warning.
Osian stepped under the caution tape to investigate. “Looks perfectly normal.”
What does a damaged light switch look like?
He knew little about the electrical wiring. It was hard to believe someone could actually pull off such a heinous prank. Or was the joke actually a feigned electrocution? Did the actor fake the accident?
If so, why? To draw attention to the show? Poor Birdie’s murder already brought a level of infamy to it.
Sending a follow-up message to Chris, Osian wished he’d brought his laptop. He could check the footage for himself. They had a camera pointed down the hallway, which would’ve captured anyone going in or out of the loo.
The buzz of his mobile caught his attention. Chris hadn’t seen anyone entering the bathroom aside from the actor who was injured. He texted over a short clip of footage.
He’s quite literally the worst actor I’ve ever seen.
Or the best?
No, worst.
How had anyone bought the story of him being electrocuted? The actor had stepped out of the bathroom and glanced around before shouting and swooning dramatically to the floor. He managed to land gently on the carpet.
A second message arrived from Abra. She hadn’t been on duty but one of their friends had. The supposedly electrocuted actor had vanished from the hospital.
“Do you ever listen?” Haider had obviously finished with Ian. “I knew you’d be in here.”
“Watch.” Osian reached out toward the light switch.
“What are you—” Haider lunged for him a second too late. Osian had flicked the switch and nothing happened. “Have you lost your mind?”
“You don’t find it strange this actor suddenly claimed to have been electrocuted, made a massive deal about a murder attempt, only to vanish the second he arrived at the hospital according to one of my mates?” Osian refused to acknowledge the slow ebb of adrenaline and his lowering blood pressure. “For whatever reason, he faked his accident.”
“We’re going to talk about this.” Haider gestured to the light switch. “You and your complete lack of care over your own well-being. Long, long conversations until you stop running on impulse.”
“It was a safe guess.” Osian tried to defend his decision, ignoring the cynically raised eyebrow of the detective. “Did Chris send you the video? I asked him to.”
“Not yet.” Haider held a hand up, pausing to speak into his radio to have a constable track down the injured actor. “And we’re also going to discuss those cameras you put up in my crime scene.”
“Okay, first, you released the crime scene. And we had the owner’s permission to add a second layer of security to the Evelyn Lavelle theatre, practically a national treasure.” Osian smiled winningly at the detective while lying through his teeth. They’d gotten Ian’s permission, and he definitely wasn’t the owner. “I swear, I was certain the accident had been faked. And badly.”
“Be more careful.” Haider sighed very deeply. “And you could’ve just showed me the video.”
“Yes, Mum. I could’ve, but where would the fun in that be?” Osian sensed an impending lecture coming from the detective. He decided to make a quick exit. “I’ll be going now. I’m sure Dannel’s at home waiting for me. Give us a call if you find anything.”
He wouldn’t. Osian knew Haider wanted them far away from the investigation. He ducked out of the theatre, avoiding Detective Inspector Powell who still stood sentry by Ian’s dressing room.
And once again, I’m left with more questions than answers.
The walk home gave Osian time to process his thoughts over the morning’s adventure. He wondered if Edwin was behind the ghostly presence at the Evelyn Lavelle. Had the actor grown tired of simple tricks and moved on to something more dramatic?
Why else would someone fake getting injured in such a dramatic fashion?
Could he be trying to take attention away from Birdie’s murder?
Maybe we should spend more time looking through the footage from our nanny cams and watch more closely over the next few days.
Who knows what we might see?