Hetty shook her head. ‘They all trooped off to the pub when the coppers went. I heard some of ’em come back during the afternoon.’
Ben reappeared with two dusty bottles.
‘A crowd of them went past the caff,’ said Harry, ‘and a couple of them looked in to see if I had any room, but I didn’t. I hope they all got served at the pub.’
‘So we don’t know if the hospital discharged Max,’ said Ben.
‘And Ian hasn’t told us a thing,’ said Libby.
Everyone laughed.
After a convivial dinner, Libby looked into the large sitting-room and found a few of the dancers there watching television.
‘No news?’ she asked. They all shook their heads, and Libby retreated.
‘We could call in at the pub on the way home,’ said Libby, as she and Ben loaded the dishwasher after Hetty had retired to her own little sitting-room.
‘We all could,’ said Harry from the sink, where Hetty had generously allowed him to scrub some of her pots, a job she normally preferred to do herself.
‘Get a move on, then,’ said Peter, ‘or they’ll have all gone home to bed.’
After excusing themselves to Hetty, they made their way down to the drive to the pub, where, along with Damian and Sebastian, Owen was sitting with Jonathan, Tom and Phillip.
‘What happened?’ Libby asked Owen. ‘Did they let him out?’
Owen pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘Oh, yes, I should have told you. He’s upstairs in bed, with strict instructions to stay there until the doctor sees him in the morning. He wanted to thank you.’
‘What for?’ said Ben.
‘Finding him, I think,’ said Owen. ‘Let me get you a drink.’
‘Ours are on the way,’ said Ben, nodding towards the bar, where Harry and Peter stood in conversation with the barmaid.
‘So what did DCI Connell want to know?’ Libby asked. ‘And what could Max tell him?’
‘Nothing.’ Owen shrugged. ‘He really doesn’t know why he was there and doesn’t remember anything about being attacked.’
‘Did he have anything with him?’ asked Ben. ‘That might give us a clue.’
‘Again, nothing. Normal wallet, car keys and hotel key. Oh, and theatre keys.’
‘Oh, dear.’ Libby shook her head. ‘And I suppose we don’t know if the police found anything at the theatre.’
‘I only spoke to the inspector before I saw Max,’ said Owen. ‘He seemed rather irritated, I thought. Perfectly polite, of course.’
‘Yes, he’s got a lot to be irritated about,’ said Libby. ‘We’ll let you get on with your drink. Maybe see you tomorrow.’
She and Ben joined Peter and Harry at their normal table by the fireplace in the other bar.
‘Nothing,’ she told the other two. ‘A complete mystery. Max has no memory of the event.’
‘Did I, when I got hit on the head?’ asked Harry.
‘Yes, I think so,’ said Ben, ‘and I know I did when I was.’
‘So did I, when I was,’ said Libby. ‘Although mine wasn’t very hard, was it. Wow. Think of that. All three of us having been hit on the head.’
‘In the course of your enquiries,’ said Ben, pointedly.
‘Oh, well,’ said Libby comfortably. ‘Perhaps he’ll have remembered by the morning. And who knows what might happen then?’
Chapter Twenty
When a uniformed officer turned up on the doorstep of number seventeen Allhallow’s Lane on Monday morning, it was to inform Libby that she could open up the theatre.
‘Really made my heart sink,’ she told Ben. ‘I wondered what on earth had happened now.’
‘Good news, though,’ said Ben. ‘We’d better tell Max and see what he wants to do.’
‘If Owen lets us get near him.’ Libby stirred her tea. ‘Should we call in or just phone the pub?’
‘Phone the pub,’ said Ben. ‘I’ll do it.’
Owen, who said Max seemed a lot better this morning, said he would ring them back when they’d talked it over. When he did, it was to say that Max would like the dancers to rehearse on-stage and he, Owen, would run the rehearsal.
‘I know more or less everything about the piece,’ he said, ‘and there isn’t anyone else, is there? With Stan gone.’
‘I suppose he’s right, really,’ said Libby, as she and Ben walked up the drive to the theatre. ‘Sebastian couldn’t do it, he hasn’t a background in dance and they wouldn’t take any notice of him.’
‘Damian probably could,’ said Ben. ‘He knows the music, after all.’
‘You get the feeling that the dancers … well, I don’t know – but they almost seem to hold him in contempt.’
‘Do they?’ Ben looked surprised.
‘Just a feeling I got.’ Libby stopped in front of the Manor. ‘I’ll go and tell the boys the good news, if they haven’t already heard, while you open the theatre.’
The dancers had already heard. Owen had called many of them and asked them to pass the news on to the others, so Libby found them all ready for action in the large sitting-room, with their sports bags and bottles of water.
‘Good to be back to normal,’ said Tom, grinning at her.
‘Hardly that,’ said Libby. ‘Are you all happy to be working with Owen?’
‘Course!’ Tom looked surprised. ‘He runs the school. Max and he set up the business together.’
‘And Sebastian will be all right with the backstage stuff, will he?’
‘There’s not much to do,’ said Tom. ‘Except that bloody curtain.’
‘Yes. Will you continue to use that?’
‘I don’t know. Nobody’s keen.’ Tom shouldered his bag and saluted with his water bottle. ‘See you later.’
After Libby had been into the kitchen to inform Hetty, unnecessarily, of the state of play, she called Harry, who agreed with much sighing and posturing to resume provision of lunches despite Monday being his day off. Then she went across to the theatre to inform the company that they wouldn’t starve today.
‘Very difficult,’ murmured Owen, after she’d delivered her announcement. They were watching the dancers warming up, and Libby was quite frankly astounded at the positions achieved.
‘It’s like watching human snakes,’ she said.
Owen smiled. ‘I suppose it is, a bit. But what I was going to tell you was – they don’t want to use the curtain.’
‘Tom mentioned it to me back at the Manor,’ said Libby, ‘and I should think Sebastian least of all. Who can blame them?’
‘What do you think we should do?’ Owen turned a worried face towards her.
‘Me? Good Lord, I’ve no idea. Why don’t you rehearse without it today and then talk to Max later? I assume you’re going to do a straight run, or whatever you call it in dance.’
Owen smiled again. ‘Yes, we are, to get it back into their heads and for me to see it.’ He stepped forward and clapped his hands, bringing the movement on-stage to a halt. ‘OK, beginners. Straight through from the top.’ He turned to look up at the FX box. ‘You ready, Damian?’
There was a moment of silence, then Damian’s head appeared in the window.
‘Er – I don’t quite know what’s wrong, but the equipment seems to be stuck.’
Everyone stood perfectly still until Ben appeared at the side of the stage.
‘Don’t worry,’ he called, calmness itself in jeans and a sweatshirt. ‘I’ll come up.’
Now a buzz of conversation broke out on the stage and Owen turned to Libby.
‘That was where Max was found, wasn’t it?’
‘Yes,’ said Libby brightly. ‘I expect we’ll find that the SOCOs messed up the settings or something.’
‘SOCOs?’
‘Scenes of Crime Officers. The people you see in the white spacesuits.’
‘Oh.’ Owen looked up to the box, where the top of Ben’s head could now be seen. ‘What do we do if it won’t work?’
‘I don’t know,’ said Libby. ‘We c
an’t borrow sound equipment from anywhere else – it isn’t portable.’
Peter appeared at her side. ‘We can, you know. It won’t be as good, but if someone has a good-quality player, or a computer that still takes CDs, we can plug that in.’
‘I have,’ said Libby. ‘But wouldn’t it be better to upload it and play it direct from the computer? Or the tablet. There’s a tablet up there, isn’t there?’
‘Yes,’ said Peter. ‘I shall go up and join the rescue party.’
‘Thanks,’ said Owen and turned back to the stage. ‘Take ten, but don’t go far.’
Ben disappeared from the box and Libby went into the foyer to catch him as he came down.
‘I’ve got the CD,’ he said. ‘I’m just going to upload it and send it to the tablet as an MP3. That will go through the speakers.’
‘I thought that all out by myself!’ said Libby. ‘I am so impressed. What had happened?’
‘I’ll tell you later. Got to get this done.’ And Ben vanished out of the main doors.
Peter peered down from the top of the spiral staircase. ‘Looks like another attempt at sabotage.’
‘Oh, no! How did the police miss it?’ Libby sat down at one of the little tables with a thump.
‘I doubt they were looking for damage to electrical equipment, and it didn’t show.’
‘Max must have disturbed them.’
‘Them?’
‘Whoever it is,’ said Libby. ‘He, she or it. I wonder why he doesn’t remember?’
Owen came out of the auditorium doors. ‘I’ve just called Max to tell him what’s happened. I asked him if he thought anyone was in the box when he arrived, and he said no. He can remember that much – going up the stairs and into the empty box.’
‘They must have hidden when they heard him coming,’ said Libby.
‘We still don’t know how they got in, though,’ said Peter, slowly descending the staircase.
Damian appeared next, looking pale and distracted.
‘I don’t know what we’re going to do,’ he said. ‘How can we go on?’
‘Brace up, lad,’ said Owen in a bad northern accent. Libby smiled at his brave attempt at encouragement.
‘It’ll be fine, Damian,’ said Libby. ‘Ben and Peter will sort it out, you see if they don’t.’
‘However,’ said Peter, ‘you must report it to the police, Lib.’
‘Oh, God. If I do that they’ll close us down again.’
Owen and Damian looked at each other.
‘Do we have to?’ asked Owen. ‘After all, it hasn’t harmed anyone.’
‘But it has,’ said Damian. ‘It harmed Max.’
‘That’s true,’ said Peter. ‘You haven’t got a choice, Lib.’
Ben emerged triumphant through the theatre doors. ‘Sorted. Let’s go and check it out,’ he said.
Libby put a hand on his arm. ‘Ben, Peter says we must report it to Ian.’
He looked surprised. ‘Of course. I’ve already done it.’
‘Oh.’ The other four looked at one another.
‘And how did he take it?’ asked Libby. ‘Does he want us to shut up shop again?’
‘He didn’t say so,’ said Ben. ‘He said his people had done a thorough job up here yesterday but they could hardly have taken apart the equipment. He seemed to think it gave the perpetrator a motive.’
‘That’s what we thought,’ said Libby. ‘So we can go ahead?’
‘Yes, once I can get upstairs.’ Ben glanced at Damian sitting despondently on the bottom step. ‘Come on, Mozart. Let’s get going.’
Peter grinned and followed them up, and Owen and Libby returned to the auditorium. Within a very few minutes the opening chords of Damian’s score echoed through the space and galvanised the dancers into movement. Owen went up to the stage to speak to Sebastian, and as the lighting changed Pendle began to come to life.
There was a noticeable hesitation as the moment for the reveal of the Kabuki curtain came closer, but they carried on and looked relieved when nothing happened at the appointed time. The dancing seemed to take on a new energy after that, Libby thought, watching entranced.
They broke for lunch when Harry appeared demanding to know where they all were. Owen was smiling, and all the dancers were buoyant. Libby left them to it and went to help Hetty with the tea and coffee urns.
‘You must be relieved,’ she said to Damian, when she went back to the large sitting-room.
‘Of course,’ he said wanly.
‘You don’t look it.’
‘Well …’ He frowned down at his plate. ‘To tell you the truth I’m beginning to think we ought to call it off.’
‘Oh! Why? Everyone’s worked so hard. You’ve worked hard. It’s your first proper score, isn’t it?’
‘But look at the misery it’s caused. All the stuff in London and now Stan murdered and Max attacked. I tell you, it’s jinxed.’
He looked so unhappy Libby was compelled to put an arm round his shoulders and give him a quick hug.
‘Don’t say that too loudly – you know how superstitious theatricals are. Actors, dancers, musicians – well, you obviously are.’
He gave her another weak smile. ‘Poor old Stan was, too.’
‘Stan?’ Libby’s voice rose. ‘He was the last one to be superstitious I would have thought. He seemed so down to earth.’
‘Hard as nails, I bet you thought? Well, he was, in a lot of ways. But show him a black cat or a magpie and he spat venom.’
‘Did he? Then he must have been particularly upset by all that mischief in London.’
Damian’s face was a picture. ‘Oh, he was.’
‘Oh?’ prompted Libby, when he didn’t say any more.
‘He thought the show should come off,’ said Damian eventually with a sigh.
‘But he carried on working on it, didn’t he?’
‘He’s a salaried employee, isn’t he? Or was,’ Damian corrected himself.
‘I suppose so,’ said Libby. ‘I’d better leave you to get on with your lunch.’
She wandered over to where Ben was deep in conversation with Peter. Harry was again at the centre of an admiring group of dancers.
‘Did we know Stan thought the show should come off before they came down here?’ Libby butted in to the conversation.
Ben’s brow wrinkled.
‘Did we? Can’t remember.’
‘I think it was mentioned,’ said Peter. ‘I’m sure you said something about it.’
Owen appeared behind Peter’s back.
‘Libby, Max has asked if you could possibly go down and see him this afternoon.’
‘Yes, of course. Any particular reason?’
‘He said he wanted to talk everything through. I think he’s worried.’
Chapter Twenty-one
Max was sitting in an armchair in front of the window overlooking the high street. His head was bandaged and he looked pale – and unshaven. Quite unlike the Max Libby was used to.
‘Don’t get up,’ she said, going over and dropping a kiss on the unbandaged part of his head. ‘Are you sure you’re up to this?’
‘Of course I am.’ He put out a hand and Libby took it. ‘I’m so grateful to you for everything, Libby. Especially for finding me.’
‘Don’t be silly.’ Libby squeezed his hand and let it go. ‘And it was Ben who actually found you.’
‘I know.’ Max sighed. ‘We’ve been nothing but a nuisance to you ever since we arrived, have we?’
‘Nonsense. You’ve added a bit of excitement to our lives.’
‘I thought you had more than enough of that, according to Andrew.’
‘Occasionally.’ Libby grinned. ‘No one would believe us if we were in a book.’
‘Anyway, it can’t be pleasant actually having murder on the premises. But what I wanted to say was, do you think I should pull it now?’
‘Pull it?’ Libby stared in astonishment. ‘Of course not. If the police have given you permission to carry on, why
should you? Everyone’s put so much into the show.’
‘But think what’s happened. All the incidents in London, then the rat, the knife in the curtain and – Stan.’
‘And you. And the sound equipment,’ added Libby. ‘But you’re still OK, more or less, and Ben and Peter have sorted the sound.’
‘I know, Owen told me. But don’t you see, all this is designed to stop the show. And I think that’s what we should do.’
‘Then whoever it is has won,’ said Libby. ‘And we might never know who killed Stan and attacked you.’
‘I’m not sure I care any more. I just don’t want anybody else put at risk. Tell me, what are the boys saying? Owen didn’t really get anything from them yesterday.’
‘Well,’ said Libby carefully, ‘they all seemed very pleased this morning. It went terribly well.’
‘Even the curtain?’
‘We – I mean they – didn’t use it.’
Max nodded. ‘What I meant was, have any of them said they thought we shouldn’t go on?’
Libby sent him an assessing look. ‘Dan didn’t think you should when I spoke to him the other day. Or at least, he said his wife didn’t. Did you know she was Wiccan?’
‘No!’ Max looked taken aback. ‘I wonder why he didn’t say?’
‘Now, why do you think? However, he’s staying. He didn’t even go back to London for the night on Saturday. As for the others, I don’t know. Damian, perhaps. He seems very thrown by it all.’
‘Scared, do you think?’
‘Definitely. Given half a chance he’d be hot-footing it back to London with his tail between his legs.’
‘Are none of the others scared?’
‘I think so, but they aren’t actually saying so.’ Libby looked down at her hands. ‘And you still can’t remember what happened yesterday?’
‘No.’
‘How about we go through the events leading up to it and see if anything strikes you?’
Max frowned. ‘From when?’
‘Why don’t we start from the day before? Your phone call with Owen, for instance.’
‘I don’t see what that’s got to do with anything.’
‘You were going to the theatre for something. Therefore, something must have triggered that. The only thing different from your routine down here was the phone call. So what did you talk about?’
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