by Gail Meath
“It looks like a heart attack, Joe,” Tim told him. “His name is Samuel Sanders.”
Joe nodded, went into the room, and set his black bag on the floor. A half-hour later, he finished his examination and joined Tim and Jax in the hallway while the other two men carried the body downstairs. “It’s difficult for me to determine the time of death. A few hours would be my guess.”
“Natural causes, Joe?” Jax asked.
“Looks like it, but Doctor Norris will want to examine him. Tim, have the man’s doctor send his medical files over as soon as you can.” He bid them good morning and left.
“There you have it, Jax,” Tim said. “Cut and dried. Just the way I like it.” But he saw the smirk on Jax’s face. “You’re thinking something else happened here, aren’t you?”
“It’s not up to me, Murph. Doctor Norris is the expert. Let me know what he finds out. I’ve been working around the clock the past few weeks, and I need to get some sleep.” And he headed off.
“Jax!” Tim yelled after him. “You will fill me in on the rest of this and give me whatever you took from the room after you get a good look at it, right?”
He threw his hand up in a wave. “I always do, Murph.”
3
Laura Graystone
Wednesday, May 30
The sold-out crowd in the Ambassador Theater burst to their feet in a standing ovation before the stage performers finished the grand finale of the show’s one-hundredth performance. Their applause roared like thunder, drowning the orchestra, vibrating the wooden floors, and sending a colorful display of lights dancing across the ceiling from the quivering chandelier overhead. The house manager, ushers, and concession personnel who had inconspicuously gathered at the back of the theater joined in. Even Missus Ashworth, the wealthy widow of a real estate magnate, stood applauding in the front row.
Forty-five minutes later, the heavy crimson drapes were slowly drawn upwards again for the seventeenth curtain call, the most ever recorded at the theater. The entire cast of the musical, Blossom Time, lined the stage, smiling and holding hands, thrilled that their performance was such a success. Then, they began clapping in acknowledgment and gratitude to the orchestra, conductor, and stage crew.
George Mitchell leaned down and whispered to Laura, who stood beside him in the center of the stage. She shook her head, but he pulled her forward, and with their hands still entwined, he lifted hers in special acknowledgment of her performance. Dozens of long-stem red roses flew through the air and landed on stage at Laura’s feet as the crowd chanted, “Songbird! Songbird!”
Laura Graystone was new to Broadway, which was evident by the sparkle of surprise in her hazel eyes and the humble pink fluster on her cheeks as she waved to her fans. At twenty-three years old, she had made her debut with the Follies only last January, and the following day, the New York Times had dubbed her ‘Songbird’ in their raving review. She couldn’t have been happier or more flattered. Two months later, she was offered the lead in this production, replacing the original actress, and it was her dream come true.
She blew kisses to the cheering audience. Then, she turned towards Missus Ashworth, who had made her debut possible, and gracefully dipped in a formal curtsy. Everyone kept shouting her nickname, and she couldn’t help but laugh in disbelief. George told her that she deserved every bit of their adoration and offered his arm to escort her back into line with the others. Finally, the curtains closed, and the cast dispersed.
Laura made a point of circling around backstage to thank as many of the cast and crew in person as she could. When she saw Mister Beacham, the surly old piano player, she hurried over to thank him.
He tucked his spectacles into his shirt pocket and stretched his chubby arms wide to embrace her. “Bravo, my dear.”
“Thank you, Mister Beacham,” she said, hugging him tightly. “I don’t know what I would do without you. That A-chord always throws me off.”
“It is you who guides me there. I have never heard such a beautiful and powerful voice from such a petite young woman.”
“You are too kind. The cast is having a small celebration at Sardis this evening. Will you be coming?” With his nod, she quickly kissed his cheek and headed for her dressing room.
Her assistant, Annie, clasped her hands in a joyous greeting. “What a beautiful performance, Miss Laura! So quickly you have become a huge star.”
“It sounds scarier when you say it aloud, Annie. I doubt I will ever get used to the bright lights and attention. Will you help me out of this costume? This satin romper is so tight I can barely breathe. I’m surprised I didn’t split a seam during the dance moves.”
Annie unbuttoned the back of her outfit. “I readied your ivory satin gown and silver t-straps for the celebration tonight.”
“Thank you, Annie. I’m exhausted but I should attend for a little while. Did you see Missus Ashworth and her son in the front row? I can’t believe they attended tonight. It was such a surprise.”
“Do not give them too much credit,” Annie complained. “I have worked for the family a long time, and they never put themselves out unless it benefits them.”
Laura couldn’t help but smile. As little as Annie was, barely reaching her chin, and a typical doting grandmother of six, she was a bold one, too, who never hid her true feelings. “Well, I am grateful to them for hiring you to assist me.”
“I am thankful for that as well. You are a breath of fresh air after working for that nasty Kitty Cooper.”
“Annie! It’s bad luck to speak ill of the dead.”
“She was not a nice person,” Annie grumbled under her breath, then she quickly changed the subject. “Did you see all the lovely floral arrangements that were sent to you?”
Laura glanced over and saw the bouquets filling the far side of the room. “They’re beautiful.” And she disappeared behind the dressing screen.
“The Garthfields sent pink peonies,” Annie told her. “The carnations are from Mister and Missus Farnham. Your mother sent a lovely bouquet of roses.”
“She did? How sweet of her.”
“The rest are from your many fans. And the Ashworths, of course.”
Laura hesitated. “I see someone sent a single white flower. Do you know who it’s from?”
“It did not come with a card.”
Laura flung the misty rose romper over the top of the screen. “Remind me to send everyone a thank-you note, will you?” Just as she spoke, someone knocked on the door, and she quickly peeked out from behind the screen. “Don’t let anyone in until I’m finished dressing.”
Annie nodded and hurried to the door, but after she opened it, she lost her smile. “May I help you?”
“Good evening, ma’am. My name is Detective Diamond.” He towered over her and scanned the room. “I’d like to chat with Miss Graystone for a few minutes.”
She frowned and partially closed the door to block his view. “She is busy. You will have to come back later.”
“I see. Could you at least let her know that I’d like to speak with her? It’s important...” But she slammed the door in his face.
Laura sat down at the vanity to fix her hair. “Who was it, Annie?”
“Some man claiming to be a detective,” she replied. “He looks like a ragamuffin to me. His hair is as unruly as his wrinkled brown suit, as though he just climbed out of bed. Apparently, he cares nothing about his appearance.”
Laura laughed at her. “You’re far too critical. You probably should let him in.”
“And you are too trusting.” But she slowly made her way to the door and opened it. Without saying a word and looking none too happy, she motioned for him to come inside.
“Thank you, Ma’am.” He entered the room, smiling and glancing around in awe.
Laura stood up to greet him and tried not to giggle since Annie’s description of him couldn’t have been more accurate. His unkempt blonde hair spilled to his forehead, his suit was a wrinkled mess, and his crooked necktie was loo
se and hanging down the front of him nearly sideways. Yet, he was handsome, too, tall with penetrating blue eyes, clean-shaven, and a single dimple as he smiled.
Finally, his focus settled on her. “I’m a big fan of yours, Miss Graystone.”
“Thank you.” But she lost his attention again as he continued looking around the room. “You wanted to talk to me?”
“Yes, I did,” he replied, grinning. “My name is Jax Diamond, a private detective. I’m getting a real kick out of meeting you. I haven’t had a chance to see any of your shows, but I read about you in the paper, and they say you’re pretty amazing.”
“Thank you again.”
He pulled a notepad and pencil from his jacket pocket. “I need to ask you a few questions if you don’t mind.”
“I don’t mind,” she replied impatiently, wondering when he would get the point.
He studied his pad. “Did you visit Mister Samuel Sanders at his apartment on Canal Street last evening?”
“Yes, I did. Is something wrong?”
“I’d say so. He’s dead.”
“Oh.” She fell back into her chair, and Annie rushed to her side.
“Sorry Miss Graystone. I assumed you had heard about it since the theater owners were notified earlier today.”
“What happened to him?”
“Seems he had a heart attack during the night. I’m helping the medical examiner pin down the time of death. How well did you know Mister Sanders?”
It took her a minute to compose herself. “He wrote the script for this show and worked closely with all of us, the production company and the performers.”
“Did you also meet Mister Sanders for dinner last Wednesday at...” He stared at his notepad and struggled, “Lag...a...”
“L’Aiglon’s,” she corrected. “It’s a French restaurant.”
His grin widened. “Right...”
“I met him there, but I didn’t stay for dinner. I had a cab waiting for me and went directly back to my flat.” But he kept watching her as though waiting for her to elaborate. “It pertained to my career if that’s what you’re fishing for.”
“Did you leave alone?”
“Yes, I was alone, Detective,” she replied. “Mister Sanders was still in the restaurant.”
“About what time did you arrive at his apartment last night?” he asked, poising his pencil so he could write down this information, too.
She tried to think, but he was making her nervous now. “He sent me a note during rehearsal asking me to come to his apartment at five-thirty, so it was about that time.”
“Did you go there by yourself?”
Her nervousness turned indignant. “Yes, Detective. Again, I was alone. It was regarding a business opportunity, so I saw no need for someone to accompany me.”
“I just thought...well, it’s kind of a rough neighborhood for a young lady traveling alone.”
“It was daylight, not the dead of night.”
He kept his eyes on her. “Did you know Mister Sanders had a wife?”
Annie moved forward angrily, but Laura held her back. “It’s all right, Annie.” She didn’t like the question or his tone either. She stood up to face him. “Yes, I know he was married. What are you implying, Detective?”
“Look, Miss Graystone, these are all just routine questions I need to ask. Please don’t take offense.” Without skipping a beat, he asked, “What time did you leave his apartment last night?”
“I was there less than half an hour. I found out the front door is always locked, and the landlord was gracious enough to open it for me when I left. I’m sure he can confirm the time.”
“He said the same thing,” Jax replied as he wrote the information down.
She didn’t like this man at all! First, he pretends to be a fan of hers then he makes indecent implications and asks her questions that have already been answered?
Jax wandered to the other side of the room to look at the floral arrangements. “You have a lot of fans.”
“If there isn’t anything else, I need to finish getting ready.” She spoke firmly, hoping he would leave, but he lingered there, reading the cards tucked within the flowers. “Detective?”
Finally, he made his way towards the door. “Thank you for your time. It was a real pleasure meeting you.” But just before the door closed, he stopped and looked over at the arrangements again. “I see someone sent you a gardenia. Are you partial to those flowers, Miss Graystone?”
She frowned at him. “Is that one of your routine questions?”
“No,” he chuckled. “They’re my mother’s favorite. They have a very special meaning, you know. Looks like you have a secret admirer. Have a good evening, ladies.” And he shut the door behind him.
Annie wrapped an arm around her. “This must be very upsetting for you, Miss Laura, and that rude detective was not very sympathetic.”
“I’m fine, Annie, but I don’t understand. If the Ashworths knew about this earlier today, why weren’t we told of it?”
“Undoubtedly, they did not want to upset anyone and lose the profits for tonight’s performance.”
She was beginning to agree with Annie about their employers. “It’s late. Why don’t you go home to your family? I’m not up to celebrating anymore, and I’ll be leaving soon, too.”
But Laura sat at the vanity long after Annie left, staring into the mirror as she brushed her chestnut-colored bob. A thousand different thoughts were flying around in her head. And they all landed on Mister Sanders.
He seemed too young and healthy to have had a heart attack, although it happened, she supposed. The man obviously worked long hours. She remembered her father being overwhelmed and under a lot of stress when he worked too many hours. Ill health wasn’t the cause of his death, but his heavy workload had taken quite a toll on him.
She grabbed her handbag, pulled out the manila folder, and flipped through the pages. She felt horribly callous, but she couldn’t stop thinking about the new script that Mister Sanders had written. He’d told her that he wrote it specifically with her in mind for the starring role and had given her a copy of the music score last evening. Since she had merely replaced Kitty Cooper, the original actress in this musical. Mister Sanders' new play would have been a tremendous break for her.
He had even asked for her thoughts on the script after she looked it over. She was a greenhorn, as they say, a newcomer, an amateur. No one ever asked her for her opinion, and she certainly never expected anyone to, but Mister Sanders had seemed genuinely interested in her opinion. She couldn’t help but wonder what would happen to the new script now.
Detective Diamond popped into her mind, and she shoved the folder back into her bag. The man was rude and insensitive, and she resented his implications about her meetings with Mister Sanders, as though he didn’t believe they were strictly business matters. He even went as far as to question her about things that he already knew were true. Testing her as though she were a suspect in a crime.
Which raised another question. Why was a private detective investigating a death caused by a heart attack anyway?
With that on her mind, she glanced over at the single white gardenia within the crowd of bouquets, recalling the night she had received the first one. And her thoughts stopped there.
4
The Music Score
Thursday, May 31
“I’m not sure if he was a nitwit or just pretending to be one.” Laura didn’t even try to hide the cutting tone in her voice as she and Jeanie, her best friend, had coffee together at the neighborhood diner the next morning.
Jeanie laughed at her while she ate her soft-boiled egg. “That detective really got under your skin, didn’t he? It takes a lot to get you riled up.”
“I don’t understand why he bothered asking me any questions. He already knew all the answers. And he kept writing everything down in that stupid notepad of his. He even implied something was going on between Mister Sanders and me. That’s what made me so angry.”
>
Jeanie rested her chin in her hand. “So, he was good-looking, huh?”
Laura shook her head. “That’s all you think about, isn’t it?”
“Mostly…”
“Robert Ashworth called me this morning. He said they decided to cancel our performances this weekend out of respect for Mister Sanders.”
“Well, that was thoughtful, but no work, no pay.”
“He also told me that his mother wants me to ride with them to the funeral tomorrow morning. I hadn’t planned on going, but he caught me off guard, and I couldn’t think of an excuse to get out of it. Jeanie, please come with me.”
She grabbed the salt-shaker and sprinkled more on her egg. “I can’t, Laura. I have practice with the Follies from eight until noon.” She set the shaker down, but it tipped over on its side, and a few grains of salt spilled on the table. She looked up at Laura. “I know. I know. Toss some over my left shoulder otherwise, I’ll have bad luck all day.” And she went through the motions. “What’s with you and Robert Ashworth anyway? Are the two of you getting tight?”
“Of course not! I’m one of their employees.”
“Well, if the two of you did get together just think of all the clothes and shoes you could buy. His mother owns half the city. What I wouldn’t do to marry a wealthy man and live off him the rest of my life.”
“Gold digger,” Laura laughed. “Besides, I think Missus Ashworth would faint on the spot if her son ever got involved with a stage performer.”
Jeanie leaned closer and lowered her voice. “Last winter, rumors were flying around that he was seeing Kitty Cooper on the sly. Now she was a gold digger and a real bearcat to boot. Of course, that was before...”
“Good morning, girls!” Margie called out as she balanced her cup of coffee and bagel and had a stack of newspapers under her arm. “What a beautiful day.”
“Well, you’re all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed this morning,” Jeanie said.
“I have a good reason. I got that part that I auditioned for last week. With Miss Songbird out of the way, I was a shoo-in.”
