Death at the Pantomime

by Evelyn James

  “But he did not!” Audrey yelled. “Donald doesn’t even know! If he did, if he knew what I had done…”

  Audrey suddenly grew pale and dropped to her knees.

  “Donald will hate me now, this was not meant to be!” She started to sob. “Donald was never meant to know, but I had to do it, I loved him so much and I could not bear to be pushed from him. I tried to pretend, tried to make people think I was with Erikson, but that was all a lie!”

  “Then, if Donald did not help you with the body, who did?” Park-Coombs said calmly. “I can’t believe you managed to carry that heavy body between you.”

  Erikson had his mouth firmly shut. He was determined to implicate Donald, which made Clara all the more certain the man was innocent. She had seen the shock on his face when he heard his father was dead, she did not think that was faked.

  Audrey gave another muffled scream of frustration.

  “Grace Allen!” She declared. “She helped us!”

  This revelation forced Clara briefly into silence. While she had wondered about Grace, she had not really considered her an accomplice to murder.

  “Grace?” She repeated. “Princess Zara?”

  Maddock gave a groan as if he was dying.

  “She would do anything for me. She booed Stanley that night, pretending to be a man. It wasn’t hard slipping to one of the side doors and pretending the noise came from the audience. I knew it would make Stanley walk off in a bad mood. All I had to do then was lure him to the pulley room with the promise of a bottle of Scotch. Funny how he lost his reservations about me when there was drink involved,” Audrey said darkly.

  “But why would she do that? Hutson got Grace the part in this panto?” Clara said, confused.

  “He was going to help her lose it too,” Audrey said with a sneer. “He was disappointed with her performance, told her if she did not pull her finger out, she would never work on the stage again. Everyone says he was so nice, but there was another side to Stanley. He didn’t like being made to look a fool.

  “Anyway, Grace was desperate and all it took was for me to convince her I would help her to improve to get her on my side. I am very persuasive.”

  Clara could see that. Not only had Audrey manipulated Maddock, but she had seduced Erikson and was now working on Donald Hutson, who was no doubt in need of a sympathetic ear.

  “You convinced her to help you murder Hutson?” Tommy asked in horror, trying to get his head around Princess Zara as such a bloodthirsty fiend.

  “Of course not! I merely persuaded her I was her best friend in the world,” Audrey was pleased with herself now, enjoying the attention and proving how clever she was. “I asked her to come to the pulley room. Once she was there and she had seen the body, she was too shocked to think straight. I told her she had to help me, that I had done her a favour killing Stanley and now she owed me. She wanted fame so badly, she missed being adored by the public. It really was not hard.”

  “You two are despicable,” Park-Coombs grunted. “Right, you are both under arrest.”

  Erikson reacted with resignation to his fate, but Audrey protested and screamed murder, trying to run out of the room again and descending into hysterical sobs once the inspector had hold of her.

  “Just one last thing, Inspector,” Clara held him up. “Audrey, you planted the button from Mervyn’s costume in Stanley’s hand?”

  “I hoped they would suspect him,” she sniffed. “And Grace would be the nail in his coffin, telling the police she saw him follow Stanley.”

  “And the fact that you killed him while he was performing in Aladdin held no symbolism?”

  Audrey shrugged again.

  “I wanted people to think he killed himself after a bad performance, so it had to be during the show. Does it matter that it was Aladdin?”

  Clara felt slightly disappointed that the intriguing coincidences in this case had proven to be just that – coincidences.

  “Would you like a hand getting them to the station?” Tommy asked him.

  “That would be good,” Park-Coombs said as he still struggled with the writhing actress. “Hold your horses, miss, or I’ll put the handcuffs on you!”

  Audrey wriggled with less velocity as he removed her from the theatre. Erikson followed under the watchful gaze of Tommy. Those of the cast still present watched the scene with disbelieving eyes. Donald Hutson stepped forward as Audrey was escorted past him.

  “I am so sorry Donald!” Audrey called to him. “I did it for us! Forgive me, please!”

  Donald looked confused. Once Audrey was out of the backstage door he turned to Clara for an explanation. It was not a moment Clara had been looking forward to.

  “Audrey murdered your father,” she told him, there was no point dancing around the truth.

  A mix of emotions flickered across Donald’s face.

  “W…why?”

  “Because he did not want you to be together,” Clara explained. “I understand your father did not like her.”

  Donald stared at the door by which the inspector and his suspects had left. A frown slowly formed on his brow.

  “I guess he was right.”

  Donald turned and walked away, looking dazed and hurt. Clara wished she could do something for him. How much loss could a man endure and continue to live? She did not like that question, and she certainly did not want to know the answer.

  Clara was glad to get out of the theatre and head for home. There had seemed something so pointless about the death of Stanley Hutson. What had Audrey really hoped to achieve? Did she think she could keep the truth from Donald forever?

  Not for the first time, Clara found herself thinking that there was a streak of madness to murder, that only the truly insane would resort to cold-blooded killing.

  As this thought filtered into her mind, Clara realised someone was following her. She glanced up as Jao Leong appeared beside her. Clara tried not to tense, she wanted to appear unperturbed by the presence of the woman.

  “Good afternoon,” Clara said politely.

  “Just solved a case?” Leong asked.

  “Yes,” Clara cleared her throat. “I actually have some information for you.”

  “Hmm?” Leong smiled brightly.

  “I know of an address where you brother has been living. I’m not sure if he is still there, but the talk is he was hiding there.”

  “Oh, marvellous,” Leong’s eyes became catlike in her delight. “You are a good detective.”

  “I don’t know if he is there now,” Clara repeated herself. “Just that he was there.”

  “It is a start though,” Leong grinned. “And here I was thinking I would need to encourage you to strive harder to find out information. I doubted you, Miss Fitzgerald.”

  Clara did not like to think about what Leong meant by ‘encourage’.

  “I hope you find your brother,” Clara said, and that was truthful enough, the sooner the siblings could be reunited and work out their differences (however unpleasant that might be) the better for everyone.

  “I shall let you know if I still need your services,” Leong purred, then she crossed the street and headed away.

  Clara felt her stomach relax, but there was still a pall of tension hanging over her. How long would she have to endure this situation? How long before Leong’s gang could be crushed and she could be free from the clasps of both brother and sister?

  As Clara tried to calm her nerves, it slowly occurred to her that for all Park-Coombs’ insistence she keep out of this business, she had been dragged into it nonetheless, and by avoiding investigating she was finding herself in just as much danger as if she was poking about where she was not wanted. The more she considered it, the more she came to one conclusion; if she was going to come through this gang trouble unscathed, she had to be actively involved in resolving it. That meant finding out information and finding a way to get the police chiefs to go after Leong.

  Clara wanted to protect her friends and family, she knew where Leon
g’s attentions would turn if she seemed to fail her, or if her talk with Chang was discovered. No, she had to do something, there was no longer a choice.

  The sun was setting, the autumn night drawing in and Clara had finally come to a decision. She was going to destroy Jao Leong and heaven help anyone who threatened her or her loved ones.

  ~~~*~~~

  Grace Allen sat in the police cell, her hands clasped neatly in her lap. She looked defeated, but also at peace. Maddock and Clara stood before the bars of her cell, trying to understand.

  “She is such a good actress,” Grace said softly. “She promised to help me, and she was my dearest friend.”

  “You barely knew her,” Clara pointed out.

  Grace gently smiled.

  “In this world, you barely know anyone. I didn’t want to see Stanley dead, but I know she did it for me. I appreciate that. It was wrong, but she did it for the right reasons.”

  Clara walked out of the police station with Maddock, dazed by what she had heard.

  “I think they are all mad.”

  “They are actors,” Maddock said, seeming to think that implied insanity was the norm.

  “What will you do now?” Clara asked him. “Regarding the pantomime.”

  “Oh, I have already re-cast,” Maddock grinned. “Truthfully, the loss of Grace was a blessing, I have a very promising young actress ready to replace her. It shall be a bit tight until we have her ready, but otherwise all shall be fine.”

  Clara was somehow not surprised Maddock had managed to find the positive in the situation and was already moving on.

  “And Donald?”

  “His name went on the posters today,” Maddock beamed. “We can never replace Stanley, but Donald shall make the dame role his own. Yes, all has worked out rather well.”

  “Except your leading man was murdered,” Clara reminded him.

  Maddock spun and looked at her, his smile not diminishing.

  “Oh Miss Fitzgerald, surely by now you understand. Whatever happens, whatever ill-fortune befalls us, there is but one thing to do!”

  “The show must go on,” Clara sighed, really fed up with that motto.

  “Yes, my dear,” Maddock grinned. “The show must go on.”