‘You said,’ Aramantha reverted to the mumble she’d seemed to have adopted.
‘Yes, I did mention it,’ said Dorinda, looking around at the rest of the company. ‘Did you say anything, girls?’
‘Might’ve done,’ said Maisie, looking confused. The others looked equally bewildered.
‘Well, don’t worry about it.’ Dorinda turned to go. ‘Constable Fowler has it in hand.’
‘Which one?’ asked Betty. ‘The old one, or the young one?’
There were appreciative giggles from the other girls and, smiling, Dorinda left them to explain to the obviously inquisitive Aramantha.
Interesting, though. Aramantha had made a lucky guess about the women who had targeted The Alexandria. Based, perhaps, on incidents experienced in London? Had this anything to do with her precipitate departure? Dorinda frowned as she crossed the auditorium. She just hoped nothing else would happen. Last season had been bad enough – she had hoped this one would be calm and trouble-free.
The day wore on. The afternoon performance went smoothly, more packed than usual due to a lowering sky outside that promised a downpour, a promise fulfilled just as the audience was leaving.
‘If it doesn’t stop soon there’ll be no one in this evening,’ said Maude, peering out of the office window at the hurrying crowds.
‘It can’t be helped, Maudie,’ said Dorinda philosophically. ‘At least we had more people in this afternoon.’
‘Want me to go out and get a pie?’ Maude turned from the window. ‘I’ll take the umbrella.’
‘I don’t like sending you out in this,’ said Dorinda.
‘Don’t be silly!’ said Maude cheerfully. ‘Come on, hand it over.’
Dorinda handed over some money, Maude collected the umbrella from the stand in the corner by the door and left. Dorinda watched her scurrying up the slope to Victoria Place. Twenty minutes later, she was back.
‘That was quick!’ Dorinda looked up from the desk in surprise.
‘There weren’t anybody there,’ said Maude, obviously puzzled. ‘Fat Aggie said she’d heard that someone was holding some sort of meeting over on the jetty. P’raps they’ve all gone there?’
‘Meeting? I wonder what sort of meeting?’ Dorinda opened the greasy paper parcel and picked up her pie. ‘Not the Suffragists?’
‘Fat Aggie didn’t know.’ Maude stood the umbrella back in the stand, where it dripped disconsolately into the tray at the bottom. “I’d better take Will his pie.’
Dorinda sat pondering about the meeting at the other end of town while eating her pie. Suffragists, End of The World prophets, political reformists – she sat up straight. And religious crusaders.
‘Well, if it is them, people won’t stay long in this weather,’ remarked Will, when he and Maude came back to the office.
‘No, they’d rather come in here in the warm,’ said Maude. ‘Now don’t worry, Dolly. Just you think about what new numbers we’re going to put into the show next week.’
Dorinda gave her friend a weak smile and cast a quick glance at the pile of bills sitting on the corner of the desk, which included payments for songs. She sighed. Audiences rarely realised that performers had to pay to perform the popular songs the public wanted to hear.
‘All right, I’ll be good.’ She grinned at the two others and began sorting through a pile of song sheets.
The rain stopped just in time for the evening performance, and the auditorium was filled with a steaming horde of holidaymakers. Water dripped from hats and umbrellas formed puddles round feet on the floor, but the audience didn’t mind. They were there to enjoy themselves.
And enjoy themselves they did. Damp though the audience was, it did nothing to dampen Dorinda’s spirits, even when she noticed Constable Fowler Junior standing at the back of the auditorium towards the end of the second half.
‘Constable Robert wants a word,’ Maude whispered as Dorinda left her seat at the piano to go through to the dressing room area. She paused, shrugged her shoulders, and sighed.
‘Come on, then.’ Maude led the way through the auditorium through patrons, all of whom wanted to congratulate Dorinda, though none realised that she was the owner of not only the company, but the building too. Eventually they reached the foyer, where Constable Robert stood stiff and very much ill at ease by the office door. Dorinda opened it with a friendly smile and preceded him inside.
‘Now, Constable,’ she said, taking her seat behind the desk. ‘Do sit down.’
‘I’d rather stand, Miss,’ said Constable Robert, clasping his helmet in front of him.
Dorinda felt the first trickle of alarm.
‘What is it?’ she asked.
Constable Robert’s cheeks became suffused with red. ‘It’s them religious coves, Miss!’ he burst out. ‘It’s one o’ them!’
‘Who is? What is?’
‘Been murdered, Miss! Up beside the Cliff Terrace steps.’
CHAPTER SIX
Dorinda sat transfixed. Becoming aware that she was staring at Constable Robert with her mouth hanging open, she found her voice.
‘Oh, not again!’
Constable Robert shot her a startled look.
Dorinda shook her head to clear it and stood up. ‘I’m sorry, Constable, but your father knows how much trouble we’ve had here with -’
‘Yes, miss!’ Constable Robert broke in hastily. ‘I know. He’s here now, up at the steps, so he sent me to tell you.’
Dorinda’s brows drew together. ‘So he thinks it’s something to do with us again, does he?’
‘Well, no, Miss, but seeing as how those old – those ladies seemed against you last week, and then with that banner...’
‘Ah, I see.’ Dorinda frowned down at her desk. ‘But how does Constable Fowler know the man is one of the – er -religious lot?’
‘There was men in the crowd, Miss,’ said Constable Robert reprovingly. ‘And this one was seen in the area on his own, too.’
Dorinda’s mind flew back to the lone loiterer she had noticed on several afternoons before the advent of the Short One and the Tall One. Yes, there had been at least one man among their supporters, and she remembered wondering then if it had been Jessie’s stepfather.
‘Do they – do you – know when he was killed?’
Constable Robert frowned. ‘No, Miss. He was found earlier. I expect Dad – Constable Fred will ask around.’
There were a hundred questions Dorinda wanted to ask, but she realised Constable Robert wouldn’t be able to answer them.
‘Well,’ she said at last, ‘at least it couldn’t have been one of us – we were all in here.’
‘No, Miss – I mean, yes, Miss.’ Constable Robert’s fluctuating complexion returned to red again.
‘So why did Constable Fowler want you to tell us?’
Constable Robert’s brows drew together. ‘Like I said, Miss, because you’d had trouble...’
‘Yes, I see.’ Dorinda gave him a tremulous smile. ‘Well, go back and tell him we’ll do anything to help. Not that I can think of anything we can do...’
When the young constable had gone, Dorinda called Maude into the office.
‘But it’s got nothing to do with us!’ said Maude when Dorinda had told her what had happened. ‘Why tell us?’
Dorinda repeated what Constable Robert had said. ‘I can see why Constable Fowler thought we’d like to know, but as I said, we were all in here, so it can’t have anything to do with us.’
‘’Course it hasn’t.’ Maude drew herself up self righteously. ‘I’ll go and tell the others, shall I?’
Dorinda sighed. ‘I suppose you’d better. Warn them to keep away from Cliff Steps when they go home – and then could you come back and help me with my hair?’
However, when Dorinda had changed and Maude had bundled her hair into its usual state of semi-respectability, they found the entire company waiting for them in the foyer.
‘What’s the matter?’ asked Dorinda.
They all
shuffled their feet looking furtive. Eventually Will said, ‘Jessie and Aramantha are worried.’
Dorinda shot a glance towards Maude. ‘About the banner and the protesters?’
‘Yes, Miss – Dolly.’ Betty stepped forward, her arm protectively around Jessie. ‘Could it be like a – a warning?’
‘A warning? To us?’ said Dorinda in surprise. ‘How could it be?’
Betty, and indeed all the others, looked confused. Aramantha, Dorinda noticed, was trying to make herself inconspicuous at the back. She sighed and tried again.
‘Look, whatever’s happened, it isn’t anything to do with any of us. As I said to Maude and Constable Robert, we were all here all evening, weren’t we?’
Neither Jessie nor Aramantha looked convinced by this, but the rest of the company appeared reassured. Dorinda, Will, and Maude saw them all out of the building and up the slope. As they followed after locking up, they could see the glow of lanterns gathered around the bottom of Cliff Steps. Dorinda shuddered and looked away.
‘What’s the betting we’ll have another visit from the police in the morning?’ said Will gloomily, as they turned up the high street on their way home. ‘It’s just not fair.’
When Dorinda arrived the following morning to unlock and found Constable Fred Fowler waiting for her, she was inclined to agree that it wasn’t, indeed, fair. Constable Fred seemed only too aware of her feelings and shifted from one foot to another miserably.
‘Well, Constable?’ asked Dorinda with a sigh, as she led the way into her office. ‘What is it now?’
‘This body, Miss. The one -’
‘You found last night, yes Constable. What about it?’
‘It’s been identified, Miss.’
‘Yes?’ prompted Dorinda, when the constable appeared to dry up. ‘Identified as whom?’
‘That Brother Anarawd them women – ladies – were talking about. Their leader, like.’
‘Oh.’ Dorinda sat down behind the desk, feeling that she had known this all along. ‘What has that to do with us?’
‘Well, Miss,’ began Constable Fred, going almost purple in the face, ‘seein’ as how they was against you – the concert party, like – we, well, the inspector thought...’
‘We might have got rid of him?’ Dorinda was conscious of anger and fear in equal parts. ‘How ridiculous!’
‘Yes, Miss, I know.’ The constable leant forward confidingly. ‘But he don’t know you.’
‘Is this the inspector from Deal?’
‘Yes, Miss. See, the woman who said who it was – the body, I mean – she was one of those women... you know?’
‘I know, Fred. Which one? The short one?’
‘Yes, Miss. Well, she carried on something awful about you – the company, I mean.’
‘I see.’ Dorinda nodded. ‘Accused us of being abominations before the Lord, I suppose?’
‘I don’t know about that, Miss...’
‘Oh, I do.’ Dorinda sighed again. ‘All right, Fred. What do we do now?’
‘I think I’m supposed to ask everyone questions,’ said Constable Fred, looking anxious.
Dorinda smiled. ‘All right, then. As I’m the only one here, you can start with me.’
’Er – yes, Miss.’ Fred looked doubtful. ‘I think the inspector wanted to know where you were last night -’ he held up a hand, ‘I know, Miss – I already told him, you was here. And so was all the others. And then he wanted to know if you – any of you – knew the, um... body before.’
‘Before?’ Dorinda wrinkled her brow.
‘Before now, Miss. I mean, was he known to anyone.’
‘Goodness, I don’t know! And neither will they unless they know who it is you’ve found. None of us have seen him, have we?’
‘No, Miss.’ Constable Fowler looked puzzled. ‘Do you think you should all go and have a look at him? Don’t seem right, somehow.’
‘I don’t think I would like that,’ said Dorinda. ‘Nor would the other ladies. Why don’t you ask the inspector what we should do? Is he here?’
Constable Fowler looked embarrassed. ‘No, Miss. He’s still in Deal.’
‘So you’re in charge are you, Fred? That’s a little unfair, don’t you think?’
Now Constable Fowler looked confused again, and heaved a deep sigh.
‘Why don’t you telephone him, Fred? We’ve got a telephone -’ she waved at the instrument, ‘and so has he. Then you can ask him for further instructions.’
The constable looked dubious. ‘I don’t know, Miss.’
‘Why haven’t you got a telephone yet?’ Dorinda asked, genuinely curious. ‘It must be very difficult when you have to take orders from someone in Deal.’
Constable Fowler looked wistfully at the instrument on the desk. ‘It is, Miss.’
‘I’ll leave you to make the call in private.’ Dorinda hesitated, wondering if it would be tactful to ask him if he knew how to operate the telephone.
‘Thank you, Miss.’ Constable Fowler gave her a timid smile and reached towards the instrument. Dorinda left the office and closed the door.
As she did so, the front door opened and Betty, Maisie, Phoebe, Patsy and Jessie entered in a rush.
‘No Aramantha?’ asked Dorinda.
Betty, as usual the spokesperson for the girls, shook her head. ‘Still asleep, Dolly. At least, that’s what she wanted us to think.’
Phoebe gave a disparaging sniff. Dorinda eyed her shrewdly. ‘Didn’t believe her, Phoebe?’
Phoebe gave an embarrassed little laugh. ‘Sorry, Miss – I mean, Dolly. No, I didn’t.’
‘Phoebe shares with her,’ explained Patsy. ‘No one else wanted to.’
‘Oh, dear,’ said Dorinda with a sigh. ‘She isn’t causing trouble, is she?’
‘Not really,’ said Betty. ‘Just a – I dunno, a sort of...’ She looked round helplessly at the other girls.
‘Atmosphere,’ supplied Dorinda, and nodded. ‘Yes, I know, and I’m sorry. But what else could I do but let her come back? She had nowhere else to go.’
‘And she was scared,’ said Jessie.
They all turned to look at her in surprise.
‘I know the look,’ she said. ‘And I could feel it. Even though she don’t like me.’
‘She doesn’t like anybody,’ said Maisie.
‘But she’s been quite well behaved on stage, hasn’t she?’ asked Dorinda. ‘No sly digs that I can’t see?’
‘She’s been all right,’ conceded Betty reluctantly. ‘Considering she ain’t got no solos.’
At this moment, Constable Fowler emerged from the office. The five girls all started back in alarm.
‘Did you get through, Constable?’ asked Dorinda, holding up a placatory hand to the girls.
‘Yes, M – Miss.’ The constable took a deep breath. ‘Could I have a word?’
Dorinda nodded and stepped through the open office door. ‘All right, girls. I’ll come and see you in a little while. Will and Maude are backstage.’
Constable Fowler followed her inside and closed the door behind him.
‘It seems he was from London, Miss. The body.’
‘Oh? How do they know?’
‘I’m not sure, Miss, but the inspector asked about anyone who come from London.’ He put an enquiring head on one side. ‘Two of your young ladies do, don’t they?’
Dorinda’s stomach seemed to swoop downwards. She nodded.
‘That young Jessie? The one who does the sailor and the tramp?’ He peered at her shrewdly. ‘Didn’t I hear tell her dad -’
‘Is a militant Baptist, or Methodist or something. Yes,’ said Dorinda.
‘And your Ara – Arath – that girl? She come from London, too, didn’t she?’
‘A few years ago, yes,’ said Dorinda, wondering where this was going.
‘But she’s been in London these last few months, Will tells me.’
Inwardly cursing Will, Dorinda nodded again.
‘I think the inspector will want to t
alk to them, Miss.’ Constable Fowler sounded apologetic.
She sighed. ‘Yes, I’m sure he will.’ She sat up straight and squared her shoulders. ‘Well, we’ll all be here all afternoon and evening, Fred. At your disposal.’
Constable Fowler nodded and turned for the door.
‘I’m really sorry, Miss,’ he said over his shoulder, and left the room.
Dorinda sat staring out of the office window for a few minutes, in time to see the constable retrieve his bicycle and cycle sedately along Victoria Place towards The Square. She also saw Aramantha Giles emerging warily from Cliff Steps.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Dorinda waited until she saw Aramantha approach the big front doors of The Alexandria, then stepped out of the office into the foyer, where she stood with her arms crossed in front of her, waiting.
Aramantha quietly opened one door a crack and slipped silently inside. Closing it just as quietly, she turned and uttered a high-pitched squeak of surprise.
‘Well, Ethel?’ said Dorinda deliberately. ‘Why were you hiding from Constable Fowler? And what were you doing up at Cliff Steps?’
Aramantha once again gave her an impression of a landed fish.
‘Come on, girl!’ Dorinda was impatient. ‘You knew Constable Fowler would want to talk to you. What do you know about the dead man?’
‘Nothing! I don’t know ’oo it was, do I?’
‘I don’t know. You certainly didn’t see him last night -you were here, as I can confirm. But did you know he was coming to Nethergate, whoever he was?’
‘I dunno!’ Aramantha almost wailed. ‘Honest! I dunno ’oo it was.’
‘But...?’
Aramantha twisted her hands together. ‘I seen a bloke the other day.’
‘Go on.’
‘It was one o’ them from – from – er...’
‘Where you were working?’ Aramantha nodded.
‘One of the regular patrons?’ Aramantha looked bewildered. ‘I mean, one of the men who came and sat at the tables?’
‘No.’ The girl stared down at the floor. ‘One o’ the others,’ she mumbled.
‘The ones who scared you?’ She nodded.
‘And you think it’s him?’
Aramantha shrugged.
Dorinda sighed. ‘Well, go and join the others at the back. The constable will be back later, I expect. You can tell him then.’ She decided to say nothing about the impending visit of the inspector.
Death Treads the Boards Page 4
