Final Act

by Dianne Yetman

  She nodded and took the money.

  “Hazel, can you meet me here tomorrow night around 10? Sorry for the late hour, but I have an early evening commitment and it’s important we meet as soon as possible. We need to know when the black coat bandit’s in the neighbourhood again. I’m going to bring you a cell phone”, he pulled his out of his pocket, “and it will look just like this one. It won’t cost you anything to use it and when the minutes are gone, it can be filled up again. So pay close attention now, I’m going to show you how to use one.”

  Roger spent the next fifteen minutes instructing her.

  “Time to go good looking”, Hazel said, “if I read your watch right. I don’t want to lose my bed.”

  Roger stopped the car in front of the shelter and watched as she struggled to lift her arthritic body out of the front seat and watched until she disappeared through the doors.

  Chapter 19

  Kate turned down Shirley’s offer of a drink at the pub and went home. A quiet night, a movie and early to bed should restore her tired body. She pulled into underground parking and for the first time since moving in, took the elevator up to the third floor and slipped the key into her side door.

  Flicking on the hall light, she made a beeline for the kitchen. Passing the den, an acrid smell hit her senses. The thought of a large glass of Merlo won out over the smell, and she kept walking.

  She sensed a presence behind her but before she could react, an arm was across her throat and duck tape covered her mouth. The pressure on her throat was excruciating; her vision blurring. Pushed into the bedroom, she kicked back with her foot but hit nothing.

  “Try that again, bitch, and you’re dead.” The voice was deep, gravelly, male.

  Heart pounding, she tried to swallow but couldn’t, a wave of dizziness and the black spots in front of her eyes. Grabbing her hair, he forced her to the floor and threw his full weight on top of her. His hands tore at her clothes; his hot breath ragged in her ear.

  She tried to kick but he blocked her and struck her across the face. “You want to live, bitch, keep still.”

  She closed her eyes and forced herself to lay still. She knew her only chance lay in taking him off guard. She moved her right hand to the small of her back, pulled the glock from her waistband, and slammed it into his gut.

  “You want to live, you get up now, very slowly, or I’ll pull the trigger.”

  As he lifted himself off her, she rose with him, her gun hand never wavering. She grabbed her cell out of her back pocket with her left hand and hit the speed dial.

  An hour later she stood outside the interview room staring at his face.

  “You know, Withers, I nailed the bastard outside the gym a couple of weeks ago. How could I have been so stupid? I should have realized he wouldn’t stop stalking me. I should have hauled his ass in then. The man’s a danger to every woman who walks. How could I have been so stupid?”

  “Don’t give me the victim spiel, Kate, it’s not your fault. Now, come with me, we’re going to the hospital and get you checked out. You’ve got some nasty cuts and bruises. I know you’re tired but it’s best everything is documented.”

  He grabbed a camera from the duty desk and took pictures of Kate’s wounds. June, who had accompanied Withers to the precinct, put her arm around Kate.

  “Ok, hon. Let’s go. I’ll stay with you through it all if you want and then its home to sleep. I’ll stop by the house on our way home, grab a nightie and bunk on your couch. Okay with you?”

  Kate nodded, too weak, too tired to protest. Ushered into the cubicle, a doctor who looked no older than eighteen examined her cuts, bruises, cleaned them up and asked if she would like to be referred to a counsellor.

  Kate shook her head no. “I just want to go home”, she said.

  An hour later, June covered her with warm blankets, placed a glass of water and the bottle of pain meds the doctor had given her on the nightstand and left the room. She called Withers from the kitchen.

  “There’s no way she’ll be in tomorrow. The doctor has given her heavy sedatives, tell whoever needs to know so no one starts calling.”

  ***

  Withers stuck his head in the office door and informed Shirley that Gordon wanted to meet with them. Laying her coffee aside, she stood looked over at Kate’s empty chair.

  “I wonder where Kate is? It’s not like her to be late.”

  “She won’t be in today, home sick. We’d better get moving.”

  Gordon looked up at the two tired looking detectives and felt a rare stab of compassion; it passed quickly.

  “Where’s Kate?”

  “She won’t be in today, sir, she’s sick.”

  “Sick! The woman has never taken a sick day. You sure?”

  “Yes, took the call myself.” Withers flushed at his lie.

  “Oh, that is a surprise. Anyway, to the business at hand. We got him.”

  “Got who sir?”

  “Ward, of course”. He opened a file and placed a packet of letters on his desk.

  “Hot off the press, and I do mean hot, in fact, they sizzle. Best love letters I’ve read in a long while. Catherine Stone and Henry were getting in on for the past year. And they made plans, lots of them. There are references to when Jeffrey’s ‘out of the way’, ‘gone’, ‘given up the ghost’. She wasn’t going to New York with him, never packed a thing, and why would she? He wasn’t going to New York either. He would be dead before he got on the plane. They planned it together.”

  “Does it say that in the letters, sir”, Shirley asked.

  “Implied, it’s implied in the letters. Not difficult to read between the lines. We’ve got enough to now to go to the District Attorney with. The bastard won’t be on the street for long.”

  ***

  Kate woke to the worst headache she ever had in her life. She rolled to the edge of the bed, lay on her stomach, swung her body to the side and eased her legs onto the floor. Placing her hands on the mattress, she pushed herself up, waited until the room stopped spinning before making her way to the bathroom where she heaved over the bowl until nothing until the last of the stomach bile burned its way up and out.

  She scrambled through the cabinets looking for Tylenol, Aspirin, anything that would lessen the pounding in her head. She found two Advil in a bottle stashed at the back of the cabinet. She swallowed them dry, made her way back to the nightstand and read the label on the prescription pills. She hated drugs, avoided taking anything, preferred to tough it out.

  Freaking drugged. She went to the kitchen, filled a large bottle with water, looked in the spare room – empty, she never heard June leave. She made her way back to the bedroom, took the bottle of prescription drugs, flushed them down the toilet, and fell back into bed. Drink water, sleep, drink water and maybe by this evening they’d be out of her system.

  ***

  It was an early start the next morning for the group assembled on stage and their displeasure showed on their faces.

  “Thank you all for coming in a bit earlier this morning”, Eleanor said. “I wouldn’t have called you here if it hadn’t been necessary.”

  “Generous of the cold bitch, isn’t it,” Charlotte asked.

  Andrew ignored her remark.

  “I want to assure you it’s not bad news I have to deliver. The production is not going to be cancelled. The play will go on tonight as scheduled.”

  There was a visible lessening of tension in the gathered group.

  “I have surprising news and it should be making its way down the centre aisle right now.”

  Eyes peered into the darkness of the unlit theatre.

  “By God, is that you Henry? Have you been sprung from the dungeon”, Andrew asked.

  “Yes, and dungeon is the word for those lock up cells. It’ll take a week to get rid of the smell of the place. The nigh
t court judge sprung me bail at 12:15am. My lawyer tells me I’m a free man until I’m charged and believe me, I won’t be charged.”

  An enthusiast at the back of the huddled group shouted hear, hear!

  “I’d like to thank Andrew for stepping into the Director’s shoes and Eleanor for wearing many hats in my absence.”

  A smattering of applause followed his remark.

  “I would also like to thank each and every one of you for your support. You kept the faith, you didn’t run away.”

  A louder and more sustained applause followed this remark.

  “I’m hoping I can count on that continued support.”

  He looked at them with an expectant, hopeful face. No one spoke, none applauded.

  “I will tell you once, what I told the police over and over again, I didn’t murder Jeffrey or anyone else. For those of you who know me well know I’m speaking the truth. For those of you who don’t, I hope you will take me on trust. I can’t give you any details about why they think I did these atrocious murders; my lawyer has put me on a gag order. For my own good, he says. So, be patient folks, some day both you and I will know the truth behind the tragic loss of these lives.”

  “Shit”, Charlotte said. “The man’s crying.”

  His response was greeted by a few smiles, a few frowns, and a lot of shuffling feet.

  “I can assure you I have the support and sympathy of the Board of Directors otherwise I wouldn’t be standing here now. Also, I’d like to announce that our very own talented Stage Manager, Andrew, has been promoted by the Board to Assistant Director. Long overdue of course, Andrew, I look forward to working with you.”

  A huge round of applause. Andrew waved his thanks to the supporting cast and crew and smiled at Henry. He had gotten the call earlier in the morning from the Chair of the Board but he didn’t realize Henry would be released. He thought the Board was hedging their bets.

  “If anyone is unable to accept me at the helm, say so now.”

  No one uttered a word.

  “Okay, good then, now, as they say in this business, on with the show. We have time to do a few walk throughs, then a long, leisurely lunch, last minute adjustments to costumes that need it this afternoon, then you’re free to nap or rehearse or whatever way you choose to relax before the opening performance this evening at 8:00pm.”

  Andrew went on stage, script on hand, invited the actors to get out their scripts, grab some chairs, and begin rehearsals. Henry and Eleanor took their usual seats in the third row back. Sitting side by side, Henry couldn’t believe his eyes. Iron Lady, Thatcher’s twin, was all atremble, a cheek muscle twitching in sync.

  Chapter 20

  At 7:30pm, Susan and Alexis entered the theatre lobby after waiting patiently in the long line of people to hand in their tickets for the opening night of Death of a Salesman.

  “You know, Alexis, a mere thank you for these fabulous seats won’t cut it. We’ll have to take Eleanor to one of her favourite restaurants”, Susan said.

  “Absolutely.”

  “I prefer something lighter of heart but I make exceptions when it comes to Arthur Miller and Tennessee Williams. You know who one of my all time favourite comedic playwright is, Alexis?”

  “Let me guess – Neil Simon?”

  “No, he’s good but the one I adore is Oscar Wilde. The Importance of Being Earnest is such a cleverly written conceit and funny! No matter how many times I see the play, it cracks me up. We’ll have to take it in the next time its showing.”

  “Yes, a good idea, in the meantime, I think we should appreciate tonight’s showing. You know they say Death of a Salesman explored the ramifications of a fatally wrong way of life – a way of life distinctively American in its commitment to a naive idea of success. They were wrong of course, and I objected to it in one of my University essays on the play. After all, the desire to succeed by being “well liked,” to be respected by one’s friends, to be loved and admired by one’s family, to contribute to the success of one’s children, to pay one’s bills on time, and to own one’s home, is not confined within the boundaries of America. It’s universal middle-class value which crosses all borders.”

  “You are such a brain child Alexis. Are you able to sit back and just take in a play or do you think about themes?”

  “A bit of both I suppose.”

  Susan waved at the closed curtain of the stage.

  “What are you doing?”

  “I just saw Eleanor peeking her head around the corner of the curtain and I waved. I don’t think she saw me though.”

  Eleanor stepped away from the curtain not wanting to risk anyone else seeing her peek out like a nervous little child. It’s a packed audience on the first night, couldn’t see any empty spaces, even the nose bleed section is full. No seats empty except the two she and Henry would occupy to the far right of the stage. She swallowed hard, bile rising in her throat at having to sit next to him in such confined quarters. She knew he was part of the reason the house was full. The newspaper articles and Henry’s new found notoriety. People love to gaze on, stand next to, and talk to who may be a charged with murder.”

  “Eleanor, can you do me a favour?”

  She turned to the Acting Stage Manager. “What’s up, Brenda?”

  “I need to get the props for the second act ready and Charlotte is raising ole bloody hell in her dressing room. She needs, positively, needs to speak to Henry, who I can’t find anywhere. Andrew is with Philip trying to calm him down; you know what he’s like on opening night. Would you try to calm her down, she’s giving the cast a case of nerves, as if opening night isn’t bad enough.”

  “Ok, I’ll see what I can do.”

  Eleanor made her way down the back corridor, paused for a moment before knocking on the door, and thought of the best approach. She wasn’t going to give in to the hysterics of a woman who behaved like a child. She pounded on the door.

  The door flew open. “Henry..., where’s Henry, Eleanor, I need to see him.”

  She looked at the tear stained face and tried to tamp down her contempt.

  “You can’t see him right now. He’s not here. So, pull yourself together, act like a professional.”

  “Andrew, he can help. Can you page him, Eleanor?”

  “No I can’t, Charlotte. Someone your age and as long in the tooth as you ”, she could see the shock on her face at that one, “should tread carefully. Reputations are fragile things and once they are ruined, there’s no going back. You should know that.”

  Charlotte sniffed, blew her nose, but said nothing.

  “Understudies are always itching to go on. Wouldn’t want to see that happen to you, dear heart, but as the expression goes, there’s always someone waiting in the wings. So, if you can’t get it together, say so now, your understudy needs time to dress.”

  “A case of nerves, that’s all, Eleanor. Really, darling, it was most kind of you to take the time to come see me. I best go finish putting on that drab old house dress.”

  As Eleanor made her way back to front stage, she looked down at the piece of torn carpet. Damn, no one’s fixed it yet. I almost broke my neck on it. What does it take to get things done around here?

  Brenda had the props ready on time, Charlotte behaved well, Philip was brilliant, and James did his best acting ever. The roar from the crowd, the thunderous clapping and repeated encores said it all. The play was a success. As people came backstage to offer their kudos to the cast and crew, Eleanor was the only one who had to paste a smile on her face.

  An hour later, the theatre was in darkness.

  ***

  “With all the traffic, Susan, we should walk downtown. It’ll be quicker than hailing a cab.”

  “Good idea. A brisk walk in the cold is therapeutic. It’s too bad we couldn’t catch Eleanor. How could someone disappear so fast?”

 
; “Tonight wasn’t the night to celebrate with her. I’m sure she’s exhausted and has gone home.”

  “Most likely.”

  The two women walked as fast as their dress shoes would allow. They stuffed their hands in their coat pockets and bent their heads into the west wind. Soon however, they saw the lights of the restaurant.

  “Look across the street, Alexis. Isn’t that Roger and Hazel standing in front of the shelter?”

  “Yes, I believe it is.”

  “Let’s go over and say hello.”

  “I don’t think it’s a good idea, Susan, its cold and obviously Hazel is getting ready to bunk down for the night.”

  The sudden movement of a dark figure to Roger’s right caught their attention. Hazel and Roger both turned around and walked beside the dark clad figure to the car. Roger opened the front passenger door and helped Hazel get seated. He reached in his pocket and passed something to the stranger. The tall figure opened the back door and sat directly behind Hazel. Roger got in the driver’s seat, the left signal light went on and the car pulled out into the lane congested with traffic. The street light shone in the car for five seconds.