They sat making desultory conversation for another twenty minutes, before the door was pushed open and a uniformed officer peered in.
‘Mr Wilde?’
‘Yes.’ Ben stood up and joined him. ‘I’ll see you lot in a bit.’
Libby shivered. ‘I hope they don’t find anything.’
‘So do I,’ said Peter. ‘I’m not very happy with our theatre being used as the scene of the crime.’
The door opened again and Max came in, followed by Owen.
‘May we come in?’ asked Max.
‘You are in,’ said Harry, standing up.
‘Sorry,’ said Owen, ‘we’ll go.’
‘Don’t be daft,’ said Harry. ‘Come in and sit down. Coffee? Or something stronger?’
Max more or less collapsed into the chair vacated by Harry.
‘I’m on whisky,’ said Libby helpfully.
Max smiled at her gratefully and Peter got up to fetch glasses.
‘Now,’ said Harry, pouring whisky with a generous hand. ‘What’s happened?’
‘Your inspector came to ask about Paddy,’ said Owen.
‘Yes, we know. We told him,’ said Libby.
‘His phone’s switched off,’ said Max in a tired voice. ‘And no one had a home number for him, but several people had Gerry’s number.’
‘Who’s Gerry?’ asked Harry.
‘The other dancer who left in London,’ said Owen. ‘He and Paddy were both threatened with burning. So Jonathan called him. And he said Paddy has no landline.’ He shrugged. ‘Which isn’t unusual. Most young people don’t, these days.’
‘Most of the boys didn’t realise he’d been in the audience and were quite upset because he hadn’t stayed to speak to everyone,’ said Max. ‘And that was what was bothering your inspector.’
‘Well, it bothered us, a bit, didn’t it?’ said Libby. ‘As Owen said, he drove all the way down here, and when I met him before the show he seemed to be really looking forward to it.’
‘What did Damian say?’ asked Harry.
‘Not a lot. Just what he said to us in the theatre,’ said Owen. ‘He’s worried in case Paddy didn’t like the music.’
‘But Paddy would have been dancing to it in London, wouldn’t he?’ asked Peter. ‘He’d have said then, surely.’
‘But it’s changed quite a bit,’ said Max. ‘I think I told you, we were all improvising at first, it was only towards the end that the music and the choreography firmed up.’
‘Oh, I see! I was puzzled about that,’ said Libby. ‘But why would he worry about Paddy not liking the music?’
‘Paddy is a classically trained violinist as well as a dancer. He’s great friends with our friend Sergio. In fact, he was supposed to be coming down here with Sergio on Saturday, but couldn’t make it.’
‘Which makes it all the more odd that he didn’t stay to speak to you all,’ said Libby.
‘Is Sergio a musician, too?’ asked Peter.
‘A conductor and composer. We’re all looking forward to finding out what he thinks of our Pendle.’ Max gave them all a tired smile. ‘So you don’t know any more about what the inspector thinks than we do?’
‘No, only that he noticed Pete’s nose twitching,’ said Harry.
‘Eh?’ Max and Owen looked confused.
‘Pete’s a freelance journalist. He said his journalistic nose was twitching,’ explained Libby.
‘What – about Paddy?’ Max looked even more puzzled.
‘He thought he might be spying,’ said Harry, digging his beloved in the ribs.
‘Paddy?’ echoed Max and Owen together.
‘Never in a million years,’ added Owen. ‘And what for, for fuck’s sake?’
‘I don’t know.’ Peter shrugged. ‘I just home in on unusual behaviour patterns.’
‘Paddy is the nicest, quietest bloke you could ever wish to meet. In fact, I was a bit surprised when he got spooked by those threats,’ said Max. ‘He’s always seemed so calm, so balanced.’
‘I suppose,’ said Libby suddenly, ‘he did go back in after the interval? Did anyone see him?’
‘No, I didn’t. I wasn’t looking for him,’ said Owen.
‘I was backstage, so I didn’t,’ said Max.
‘I wonder if Damian did. He had a good overview from the box,’ said Peter.
‘I expect Ian will have asked him,’ said Libby. ‘Meanwhile, I think I need to go home and go to bed. I hope Ben won’t be too long.’
On cue, her phone rang.
‘Where are you?’ asked Ben.
‘I’m still at the caff. Owen and Max are here, too.’
‘Stay there. I’ll be back in a minute. They’ve found him.’
Libby’s stomach did something peculiar.
‘They’ve called an ambulance. You’d better tell the others – they’ll see the blue light.’
‘He’s –?’
‘Still alive, but only just. See you in a minute.’
Libby turned a shocked face to the others.
‘Oh, no!’ groaned Max.
‘He’s not dead,’ said Libby and sank back on to her chair just as the blue light approached and turned up the Manor drive.
‘Where was he?’ asked Owen.
‘I don’t know. Ben’s coming back here. He said to wait for him.’
‘I’d better get supplies, then,’ said Harry.
‘I’ll replace it tomorrow,’ said Max.
‘No you won’t.’ Harry gave him a friendly buffet on the shoulder as he passed. ‘You’ve got enough to think about.’
Minutes later, Ben arrived and was besieged by questions.
‘Quiet!’ He yelled. ‘I can’t hear myself think. Thanks, Hal.’ He accepted a whisky. ‘We opened the theatre and searched. They’re very through these policemen. Then we went outside and there he was.’
‘Where?’ asked Libby.
‘Just round the side in the hedge. Very little attempt to hide him. Just looked as though he’d been quickly shoved out of sight.’ Ben swallowed half his glass of whisky. ‘God, I needed that. I’m not up to all this finding bodies.’
‘At least this one was alive,’ said Harry. ‘How was he …?’
‘As far as I could tell, another bash on the head.’ Ben smiled wryly. ‘He doesn’t vary much, our murderer.’
‘Do you think he knew Paddy wasn’t dead?’ Even to herself Libby’s voice sounded quavery.
‘How do I know?’ Ben shrugged. ‘I’d rather not think about it.’
Owen stood up. ‘We’d better get back to the pub. I expect the police will want to talk to us again.’
Max stood like an old man. ‘I suppose so.’ He turned to Harry. ‘Thanks for the hospitality.’
‘Come on, Lib, we might as well go, too,’ said Ben. He turned to Peter and Harry. ‘We’ll let you know tomorrow what developments there are.’
‘You know,’ said Libby a few minutes later as they walked along the deserted high street, ‘this is ridiculous. It should be so easy to work out. Doesn’t it strike you as completely amateur and panic-driven?’
‘I was thinking that earlier,’ said Ben. ‘As if there was something hidden that the murderer wanted to conceal, and everything that’s happened is to stop it coming out.’
‘Exactly,’ said Libby, ‘especially this last one. But it doesn’t fit with the incidents in London.’
‘Unless it’s those the murderer wants to hide,’ said Ben.
‘But would you commit murder to hide them? No, it’s got to be more serious than that. Another murder? One that hasn’t been discovered?’
They turned the corner into Allhallow’s Lane.
‘The attacks on Stan and Max were definitely linked to Pendle,’ said Ben, ‘but Paddy had left. So what was his connection?’
‘It must be something that happened before they came down here,’ said Libby.
Ben unlocked the door of number seventeen. ‘Well, if we’ve worked it out that far, so will Ian and his minions. I suspect
there’s a good deal of work going on we know nothing about.’
‘I know.’ Libby sighed. ‘I wish he’d hurry up about it, though. This has all got a bit out of hand.’
Ben laughed. ‘Slight understatement!’
‘You know what I mean. I wish we hadn’t asked them down here, now.’
‘It wasn’t us, it was Andrew. Now, come on, it’s bedtime. Get up those stairs, woman.’
The following morning, Libby was unsurprised to receive a call from one of Ian’s officers asking if she and Ben could possibly meet DCI Connell at the theatre.
‘How did he get in there?’ she asked Ben as she ended the call.
‘I left the keys with the officers who found Paddy.’ Ben drained his coffee mug. ‘We’d better get up there. I don’t want them messing up the set or the lighting.’
‘I’ll follow you,’ said Libby. ‘I must call Fran.’
Fran was suitably impressed by the news of Paddy’s attack, and the prescience of Peter, Libby and Ian in suspecting something was wrong. Libby concluded the call by saying she would let Fran know if they needed any help in the theatre that night and, throwing her cape round her shoulders, said goodbye to Sidney and left.
Chapter Thirty-one
The foyer was crowded. Max and Owen sat at one of the little white tables, Ian was talking to Ben and Peter by the spiral staircase and various police officials appeared to be inspecting every inch of the floors and walls. Ian beckoned Libby over.
‘I know you didn’t know Paddy Milburn, but you did speak to him, didn’t you?’
‘Yes, I told you last night. He just said now he’d seen the theatre he wished he’d stayed with the company.’
‘And he didn’t appear to be distracted – or angry?’
‘I don’t know what he was like normally, but he seemed perfectly cheerful. Not harbouring any great secret, or anything.’
Ian narrowed his eyes at her. ‘What do you mean by that?’
Libby was taken aback. ‘Well, if he was attacked to stop something from coming out, he must have known something. A secret.’
‘And presumably didn’t know he knew it,’ said Ian.
‘Oh, do you think so?’
‘Ian’s been thinking along the same lines as we were,’ said Ben. ‘I said he would be.’
‘This murderer is careless,’ said Ian. ‘That said, we should have caught him by now. I got sidetracked by the incidents in London and trying to work out motives.’
‘And?’ Libby prompted.
Ian’s half-smile appeared. ‘You don’t catch me out like that. Now, would you like to see if Max wants to use the theatre today?’
‘Can they open tonight?’ asked Peter.
‘I don’t see why not. It doesn’t appear that the attack took place in here.’
‘But there are people going over everywhere with a toothcomb!’ said Libby.
‘Standard procedure,’ said Ian. ‘And yes, if you wanted to know, Mr Milburn is, as they, say, holding his own.’
‘Oh.’ Libby felt the colour rush into her face. ‘Oh, dear. Sorry.’
She crossed to Max and Owen and put her question.
‘As long as we can get in this evening,’ said Max, ‘I don’t mind what happens. I suppose I’d better go over and speak to the boys.’
‘I’m going over, too,’ said Libby. ‘Poor Hetty must be wondering what on earth has been going on.’
In the Manor sitting-room, the dancers were draped over the furniture in the manner Libby had come to expect. In a group near the coffee urns sat Jonathan, Tom, Will and Damian.
‘Have you heard anything?’ called Jonathan.
‘He’s still alive,’ said Max, perching on the edge of a table. ‘Look, everyone, I know how bad this has been for us all, and I honestly couldn’t blame you if you wanted to stop now. I really thought that the worst was over, and last night was such a success – but now I have to face the fact that whoever is doing this isn’t going to stop until we do. So, what do you all think?’
The dancers exchanged glances.
‘It’s got to be someone here, hasn’t it?’ said Dan. The others turned to him in surprise. ‘Well, it has. Unless Libby or Ben or Hetty has suddenly decided to have a vendetta against us. I don’t believe it’s got anything to do with the stuff that happened in London either.’ He shook his head. ‘It seems quite unbelievable to me – all of it – but we’ve had one murder and two attacks. So which one of us doesn’t want to go on?’ He looked round at the rest of the room. ‘Come on. Because if anyone doesn’t want to go on, I think I might be a bit suspicious.’
The others regarded him uneasily, but Owen threw back his head and laughed. ‘Well said, Dan! Unless a majority want to pull the plug I suggest we leave it to Max.’
‘I think it’s an unlucky show,’ said Paul from where he sat on his own near the door. ‘I think you’ve offended them.’
All eyes turned to him in shock.
‘Who’s “them”?’ asked Libby.
‘Do you mean the witches?’ said Lee. ‘Like the ones you were looking for when we went to see that grotto?’
Colour had risen into Paul’s face. ‘It isn’t wise to mock,’ he said.
‘I can’t make out whether he’s a Christian fanatic or a pagan one,’ said Libby under her breath to Owen.
‘Sounds as if he’s into witchcraft to me,’ whispered back Owen.
‘Well, if Paul’s the only one who doesn’t want to go on,’ said Max, ‘we’ll go on. Paul, if you want to go back to London, I’m sure we can cover for you.’
Paul, now the centre of censorious attention, was the colour of beetroot. He shook his head and retreated further into his corner.
‘Show of hands, then,’ said Max, raising his own. Slowly hands went up all over the room. A few people were reluctant, including Damian, but in the end all hands were up and Libby led a round of applause.
‘Could I add, please,’ she said, as the atmosphere brightened, ‘that I believe Dan was right. The murder and the two attacks were perpetrated by a member of the company, which means – someone in this room.’ A murmur of disbelief greeted the statement. ‘I know that’s uncomfortable to think about, but the police are getting closer because of the careless nature of these crimes.’ She crossed her fingers behind her back. ‘And any more attempts will only confirm their suspicions, so whoever you are, please just stop now. I don’t ask you to give yourself up, because I know you won’t. I’ve met murderers before.’ She looked round at the shocked faces. ‘Now I’m going to see if Hetty needs a hand in the kitchen.’
She left a silent sitting-room behind her, hoping she’d done the right thing. Ian probably wouldn’t like it, but she hoped whoever the murderer was, he would be too scared to do anything else.
‘I dunno why they don’t pack up and go home,’ muttered Hetty when Libby told her what had happened. ‘Less trouble for us.’
‘You know what they say – the show must go on,’ said Libby.
‘You do,’ said Hetty. ‘I wouldn’t. They want more coffee?’
‘They’ve got coffee in their rooms, haven’t they? Leave them to it for a bit,’ said Libby. ‘Is there anything I can do?’
There wasn’t, so Libby went back to the theatre. Ian had disappeared with most of his officers and the SOCOs, although a uniformed policeman stood on duty at the door. Ben called down from the FX box.
‘Everybody all right over there?’
‘Yes. They’ve just taken a vote to see if they pull the plug or not. Again. They’re not.’
‘I could have guessed that,’ said Ben. ‘Let’s just hope the idiot behind all this stops now.’
‘I think he might,’ said Libby slowly, ‘if he listened to what I said in there.’
‘Why? What did you say?’ Ben was looking suspicious.
‘Nothing, really. Just asked whoever was doing it to stop it. Now,’ she said hastily, ‘I must get back.’
‘Libby.’ Ben was coming down the stairs. ‘Wh
at exactly did you say?’
‘Um …’ Libby felt the colour rising into her cheeks once more. ‘I said – I said – well, I actually said the police were getting close and as it was certain to be someone in the company they’d better stop now.’
Ben looked at her hard for a long moment. ‘I don’t suppose that could do much harm. You didn’t say you knew who’d done it, did you?’
‘No, of course not – I don’t. But if anything else happens, it simply must point the finger. We can’t have people being laid out right and left, can we? I bet there’s a really simple answer staring us in the face if only we could stand back and see it.’
‘Perhaps the students will have something to say tonight. They’re all coming down, aren’t they?’
‘Yes. Somebody’s taking the minibus to meet the train at Canterbury. And come to think of it,’ Libby added, ‘I don’t suppose they’ll be able to stay for long after the performance as they’ll have to get back for a train home.’
The students, however, arrived early. Sebastian, having been added hastily to the insurance by Owen, went to collect them in the minibus and they descended on the pub for an early dinner. When Libby and Ben arrived at the theatre, they found Max sitting at one of the white tables looking exhausted.
‘I’ve left them with Owen,’ he said. ‘They’re his pigeon. But they’ve got so much energy!’
‘What did they have to say about the murder? And the attacks?’
‘They only knew about the murder, nothing about the attacks on me or Paddy. Owen’s filled them in. Sadly, they seem more excited about it than anything else.’
Libby was amused. ‘Youth!’
‘I suppose so. They’re nearly all late teens, except for one or two who are twenty. The juniors aren’t coming.’
‘Let’s hope they enjoy it,’ said Libby. ‘Paddy’s still alive, isn’t he? So let’s forget all the unpleasantness and enjoy the rest of the week.’
‘It occurred to me,’ said Max, standing up and stretching, ‘that when Paddy comes out of his coma –’
‘Coma?’ interrupted Libby, startled.
‘Medically induced to allow the brain swelling to go down,’ Max explained. ‘Anyway, when he comes round he’ll be able to tell us who attacked him.’
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