Murder in the Second Row

by Bev Robitai

  ‘You heard that, did you? That little turd ambushed me live on air! Honestly, Jack, I really was ready to throttle him.’

  ‘Yes, that did come across in your voice. Good interview though – he knows how to stir up interest all right. You did very well to handle those tricky questions.’

  Her face lit up with a huge smile at the pride in his voice.

  ‘Thanks, Jack. Hey, are you going to be able to make it to the show tonight?’

  ‘Ah. I’m afraid not, sorry. But I promise I will get to a performance before the end of the run, how’s that? I may just have to surprise you as to which night I show up, OK?’

  ‘Sure, Jack, no problem. That complimentary card I gave you can be used any night. It’s a special one we keep for major sponsors and people like that. Just wave it at the box office and they’ll find you a seat. Even in our wildest dreams we’re not expecting any full houses so you won’t be turned away.’

  ‘Great. Well, all the best for tonight, hope it goes well. Break a leg.’

  ‘Thanks for that. The worst is pretty much over so I can relax a bit now. No more horribly late nights fixing the set or sorting out problems. We must catch up when you’re free too.’

  ‘It’s already planned.’ He listed a few activities that he had in mind.

  Her delighted grin lasted for hours.

  She picked up the programmes from the printers and double-checked that they were correct. She found one spelling mistake but since it was in copy that a sponsor had supplied she didn’t feel too responsible. In any programme there was always at least one error that managed to sneak past every single check.

  All the preparations were made. Now all they needed was bums on seats.

  Chapter 13

  Opening Night

  At 6pm the cast and crew started to arrive, buzzing with nervous energy. Matt and Paul were outfitted with generously-proportioned dinner jackets from wardrobe, ready for their Front of House duties. Jessica, in her plain black pants and top, was ready to flit anywhere in the theatre to help where needed. The crew were all in black clothes as well, in varying stages of disrepair depending on the ages of the sweatshirts and jeans. Adam appeared in a beautifully tailored grey silk shirt and black pants. Even Austin had made an effort and dug out his most presentable black shirt, adding a black bow tie to mark the formality of the occasion. The effect was only marred by glimpses of an off-white string vest between his straining buttons.

  Several deliveries of flowers had arrived during the afternoon, mostly for Simone from her circle of theatrical friends. Jessica had put them in the star’s dressing room after making sure that none of the bouquets contained pollen-laden blooms that might stain a costume.

  Phil and Pippa arrived together, secretively clutching carrier bags. Phil opened his to produce a bouquet for Pippa and presented it to her with a flourish. She smirked and handed him a small and extremely phallic cactus in a pot with a red bow round it.

  ‘Don’t leave that on a chair in your dressing room,’ advised Jessica. ‘That really would be unlucky.’

  Austin gathered the cast for a few words, his sweat-dewed face gleaming. ‘It looks like a good house tonight, so you’ll have plenty of reaction to work to. I know I don’t need to tell you not to peek at the audience, because if you can see them, then they can see you. And please remember to take off your bloody costumes and all your stage make-up before you leave at the end of the evening – that’s a rule. Make sure everything you need for tomorrow’s show is tidy and ready before you go home tonight.’ He mopped his brow. ‘All right, that’s all the grumpiness you get from me – break a leg folks, and have a good show.’

  Adam smoothly stepped in to continue the speech.

  ‘You’ve all worked very hard and you’ve already shown me what you can do. Now you get to show the audience and earn your reward. You’re already good, now you have the option of being brilliant, every night for all nine shows. I’ll be out there watching you tonight – make me proud, people.’

  The actors, dressed and ready in costume and make-up, chose various ways of passing the tension-filled minutes until curtain-up. Some read their scripts to freshen their memories, some played cards, others just sat still and focused inwardly.

  Matt came through from Front of House carrying a large colourful bouquet and looked round for Jessica.

  ‘Hi Matt – is that another one for Simone?’ she asked him.

  He flicked the envelope and broke into a grin.

  ‘Not this time, Jessica.’ He handed the flowers to her and watched as she read the name. Her gasp of surprise alerted the company that something unusual was happening.

  ‘Ooh, are they for you, dear?’

  ‘Hey, stage crew don’t get flowers. What’s going on?’

  ‘Who’s sent you flowers, Jessica?’

  ‘She’s blushing, it must be a secret admirer!’

  She grabbed the card off the wrapping paper and stuffed it into her pocket, then rummaged under the sink for a container. There was no way she was letting them read whatever was written in the card until she’d checked it first. She thrust the bunch into a plastic jug, filled it with water, then went to the downstairs props room to read her card in private.

  All the very best for Opening Night, sorry I can’t be there with you. Will catch you later in the season and perhaps we can try out for the Shield. Love, Jack.

  She gasped with laughter and was very glad the rest of the company couldn’t see her blush. It took several moments before she could wipe the grin off her face and compose herself.

  When she went back up to the Green Room, she found Clara-Jane examining her bouquet and looking quite impressed.

  ‘He knows his stuff, whoever he is. Someone who can’t be here tonight?’ Clara-Jane fingers lingered over the different blooms.

  ‘What do you mean, “He knows his stuff?” And you’re right. He won’t be here tonight.’ Sometimes, Jessica had to admit, Clara-Jane seemed to know things others didn’t.

  ‘Striped carnations. They mean “I can’t be with you”, and laurel means “success” so I guess he’s wishing you that too. The camellias have various meanings but I’d go for “you’re a flame in my heart” and “you’re adorable”. I’m not sure about the camomile, I’d have to look that one up. Perhaps it’s just a suggestion to relax!’

  Jessica looked stunned. ‘Gosh. He’s even smarter than I thought. That’s a little bit scary.’

  ‘Oh don’t be silly! Accept the attention, don’t analyse it to death. It’s harmless fun, you should be enjoying it.’

  ‘OK,’ she straightened up and smiled. ‘I guess I am, actually. Having some romance in my life is a bit of a novelty.’ A thought occurred to her. ‘Speaking of romance, you wouldn’t happen to remember the name of a girl that Nick was friendly with towards the end of Guys and Dolls, would you? I think she went off to Australia.’

  Clara-Jane frowned in thought. ‘Something beginning with E? Emma? Emily?’

  ‘Wasn’t me,’ said Emma, looking up from her script.

  ‘Emily’s the one who went to Australia,’ said Howard, a faintly wistful note in his voice. ‘Pretty little thing. She sends me an email now and again, to let me know how she’s getting on.’ He smoothed his dark-grey hair. ‘I think she misses me.’

  ‘I hate to rain on your fantasies big guy, but I’ve heard that little Emily had a thing for Nick. She might be able to confirm his story to the cops, so can you give me her email address tonight so I can get him a bit closer to being released?’

  ‘How could she possibly do that?’ Howard queried. ‘Never mind. It’s probably a long story and I don’t have time for it. I don’t know what they see in these young guys. OK Jessica, I’ll email you as soon as I get home tonight.’

  Austin walked through the Green Room giving them the ten minute call. Jessica gave Clara-Jane a quick hug, gave the rest of the company a thumbs-up, and went to check on Front of House.

  The hubbub of conversation increased
as she pushed open the side door from the corridor and entered the foyer. There was a whole new smell about the place – a mix of perfume, wafts of cigarette smoke from outside, and the occasional nose-wrinkling tang of mothballs from the fur-coat brigade. She was pleased to see the programme sellers doing a good trade. With almost half the tickets tonight being free ones, any money they could make on other sales would help. The bar was crowded but she got a wave from Greg the bar manager in between his handing out glasses of wine. Round the corner, the sweetshop counter was three and four deep with eager patrons wanting ice-creams and soft drinks.

  Gerald was working the box office tonight, steadily issuing tickets and guiding people towards the ushers and programme sellers. Jessica popped her head out front to check the street and found Matt standing guard outside.

  ‘All quiet on the western front, Matt?’

  ‘Yeah, I think we’ve got just about everyone in who’s coming. Didn’t see any obvious loonies so I think we’ll be OK.’

  ‘Excellent. Carry on, old chap.’

  Paul was doing duty as Front of House manager, solidly stationed at the auditorium door.

  ‘Can I let them in yet, Jessica?’

  ‘Wait till you get the all-clear from Austin. They may still be doing checks.’

  Across the foyer she saw the side door open and Austin’s head appear. He gave them a nod. Paul pushed open the doors and allowed the ushers to begin seating the crowd. Once the first wave was in, he rang the bell to give the lingering bar customers a hurry-up.

  Jessica waited until the last few stragglers were going in before she went upstairs and slipped into one of the private boxes off to the side, balancing on an old office chair that was long overdue for disposal.

  She loved the anticipatory hum that filled the auditorium when a show was about to start. The atmosphere was electric, particularly when so many of the audience had direct connections with the show. They were chatting excitedly, looking at their programmes to spot names and faces, sharing sweets with their neighbours.

  She leaned forward to check that the critic seats were filled, and was rewarded with a friendly wave from Brad Bannerman. Across the aisle the newspaper critic had his head down and she couldn’t tell who it was. He was studying the programme and making notes on a clipboard.

  The pre-show music went quiet, the house lights did a slow fade, and there was a brief silence. The curtain rose. The show began.

  At the first funny line there was a ripple of laughter, and Jessica felt a tingle of excitement at the response. It energised the actors too – she saw Stewart’s head go up as he heard it. The words took on a whole new dynamic as the audience responded to them, like kites that had lain flat and still on the ground suddenly taking to the air in soaring flight. She blew out a gentle sigh of relief. It was going to be all right.

  Act One drew to a close with Ada Boynton alone on the stage, laughing an evil, silent laugh. The house lights came up, the interval music began, and the audience broke into conversation as the spell they’d been under lifted. Patrons surged up the aisle in search of food, drink and toilets. Jessica eased her way past the circle crowd and went down to the box office, where Gerald was totalling up the night’s takings from his department.

  ‘What’s the house number, Gerald? Respectable?’

  ‘I make it 298. We had a few door sales so that was good. I hope it picks up a bit tomorrow though.’

  She smiled. Gerald would never be happy even if they got a full house of 380. She went backstage to write up the figure next to the season clock.

  The Green Room buzzed, with excited actors exchanging compliments and reactions.

  ‘Simone, you’ve got them in the palm of your hand. You were amazing!’

  Simone inclined her head regally. ‘One does one’s best. Even when hearing the chimes of people’s dratted cell phones as the hour changes. Why they can’t simply leave the blessed things at home I don’t know.’

  ‘Yeah, I’m sure I saw someone texting in the front row,’ said Stewart. ‘The ushers should just take the phone off them when they do that.’

  The comment prompted Jessica to slip down to the props room to send a text to Jack thanking him for the flowers. She dithered for so long trying to think of the perfect thing to say that interval ended and all she had time for was a quick acknowledgement. She grabbed a cup of coffee and a muffin and dashed back to her seat in the box.

  The curtain rose on Act Two, revealing the glowing red rocks of Petra. The audience broke into spontaneous applause for the set and Jessica punched the air with delight. These were the moments that made it all worthwhile. It wasn’t often that the crew got a reward like that so she knew the construction team, and especially Nathan the designer, would be beaming with pride. She hoped he was in the auditorium somewhere, although she hadn’t seen him out front or backstage.

  Act Two continued to keep the audience engaged, right through to the dramatic announcement that Ada Boynton was dead.

  The curtain came down but the house lights stayed low to signal that there was no second interval between Act Two and Act Three, just in case patrons hadn’t read that fact in their programme. A murmur of speculation ran through the crowd as they tried to work out who’d done it. Dame Agatha had cleverly cast suspicion on several members of the Boynton family, providing motive and opportunity aplenty.

  When the curtain rose for Act Three Jessica could see several people actually on the edge of their seats with anticipation. They were not disappointed. As the final act unfolded, the rollercoaster ride of joy and despair pulled them right along with it to the final scene where the twist in the tale was revealed. The last funny line got the laugh, and the curtain came down.

  The whole auditorium burst into enthusiastic applause as the actors made their bows, rising in intensity to Simone’s entrance as her excellent performance was acknowledged. The cast linked hands and bowed low, smiling happily. Then they pointed towards Adam and applauded warmly, calling for him to come up on stage with them. He took a bow of his own, then Jessica saw him signal to Austin to drop the curtain while the audience was still clapping vigorously. Once the house lights came up and the music started, the patrons realised that there was no more to see. They gathered up their belongings and started to file out, chattering eagerly about what they’d experienced.

  Jessica made her way down to the foyer where she looked around for anyone who was on the Regent’s VIP list. Schmoozing the chosen ones helped to bring in their donations and support for theatre projects. She spotted the mayor at the bar and squeezed in beside him.

  ‘Good evening, Mr Mayor, I hope you enjoyed tonight’s show?’ She nodded to the bar-tender. ‘This round is on the house, Greg.’

  The mayor beamed his thanks. ‘Wonderful show, Jessica. A real classic, well done.’ He looked at her shrewdly. ‘Would I be right in guessing that you’re not too sad about the delay of Bayldon Oliver’s planned shopping mall?’

  ‘You would be right, indeed, and I’m sure that when they do go ahead, they will be able to do it without our particular piece of land to build on. I know shopping malls bring people to the city, Mr Mayor, but so does this theatre. I hope we can count on your support to find them an alternative site, and keep all Whetford’s historic buildings safe?’

  He smiled charmingly. ‘How could I possibly say no to that? I’m sure the council will do everything it can.’

  Howard appeared, red-faced and perspiring gently after his rapid change from crew clothes into a dinner jacket. He slapped the mayor on the back with a hearty greeting.

  ‘You’re quite right there Paul, not many men can say no to our Jessica. She has a knack of getting her own way – I’m glad we’ve got her on our side!’

  Jessica smiled modestly and left them to do some male bonding while she chatted to a few other important guests and thanked them for coming to support the show. When she’d made sure that they felt appreciated, she sent them on their way with a request to spread the word about the sh
ow to their friends. Judging by the buzz from most people coming out of the auditorium, there would plenty of talk about the play around town over the next few days.

  Once the general public had departed, family and friends, who were waiting patiently, had their chance to greet the performers and make a big fuss over them. Parents and well-wishers crowded into the foyer bar, keeping Greg and his team busy handing out the wines and beers. Within a few minutes, freshly-scrubbed actors began arriving from backstage to receive their accolades. There were lots of hugs and back-slappings and cries of “Darling you were wonderful!”

  Jessica went out back to give the remaining stage crew a hand with setting up for the next night’s performance.

  ‘I didn’t see any candidates for the Golden Paddle tonight. Austin, how about you? Did anything go wrong?’

  ‘No, they were all innocent little lambs tonight. Didn’t see any mistakes at all.’

  ‘You mean you got the set in the right place and everything?’ she teased.

  He yelped in protest. ‘Hey, don’t pick on me, I just check the crew’s set-up! It’ll be the actors you have to watch, like young Stewart here – they’re the ones who make the most noticeable cock-ups.’

  Stewart pretended to look affronted. ‘Well if you’re going to be like that, I shall leave you stage-crew drones to carry on without me. I shall join my actor friends who appreciate me.’ Nose in the air, he stalked off in a mock huff and went backstage to change. When he returned, Jessica accompanied him out to the foyer. He held the door open for her and scanned the crowd hopefully.

  ‘Have you seen Nathan tonight, Jessica? He said he’d try to be here.’

  Nathan must have heard his cue as he appeared from behind the door where he’d been wedged by the crowd.

  ‘Hey Stew, how did it go? Sorry I couldn’t be here for the whole show – I had to work a second shift and couldn’t get away. Was it good?’

  ‘Yeah, man, excellent. Your Petra set got applause! Everybody loved it.’