Murder at St. Winifred's Academy

by J. D. Griffo

  They both were obsessed with theatre, they both were directors, and they both felt they had something important to contribute to the world through their artistry. They might not be the next Lunt and Fontanne, but they felt like they could be. A cynic might say they took themselves a tad too seriously, but they were young and hungry to make their mark in the world. They were also guarded about their pasts and kept large chunks of their personal histories secret. Recognizing a kindred spirit, they didn’t press each other for details and facts about their lives, they accepted that certain truths were better left unspoken. Like the subtext in a complex drama, not everything needed to be heard to be understood.

  Some people, however, needed to be introduced.

  Nola climbed the small set of stairs on the left side of the theatre that led up to the stage and walked to the center. She stood motionless, still holding her clipboard, and stared out into the audience. Slowly, everyone in the theatre noticed that someone was onstage waiting to be noticed and the chatter and activity subsided until the entire theatre was silent. Following the rest of the auditionees, Helen took a seat in the back of the theatre, and this time she was fully impressed by Nola’s skill. Without uttering one word, without moving a limb, she commanded everyone’s attention. Maybe she wasn’t such a bad director after all.

  “Ladies and gentlemen, thank you for coming to the auditions for Arsenic and Old Lace,” Nola began. “As you know, I’m the producer of the Tranquility Players, and it gives me great pleasure to introduce the man who will bring this production to life. Our director, Johnny Fenn.”

  Instead of taking the stairs to take his place next to Nola, Johnny placed his hands on the stage, swung his legs to the right, and hoisted up his body onto the platform. Part flashy, part boisterous, it was a move that endeared him to the gathered crowd, who applauded loudly. Almost every member of the audience anyway.

  “Talk about cocky showmanship,” Jinx muttered under her breath as she slid into the seat next to Helen.

  “Jinxie,” Helen whispered. “I didn’t see you come in.”

  “I just got here,” she replied. “I want to talk to everyone involved in the show so I can get additional material for the article I’m going to write about Missy.”

  “You can start with the director,” Helen said.

  “He looks like a walking cliché,” Jinx remarked.

  Helen looked at Johnny and realized Jinx was right. He was wearing faded jeans, worn-out sneakers, and a loose-fitting, white T-shirt, and his long, straight black hair was tied back in a ponytail. His navy-blue baseball cap, which was the de rigueur accessory for any serious director, was adorned with a capital M embroidered on it in gold, which Helen thought was a fitting tribute to the star of the show. This director had truly come to them direct from central casting.

  “He might be, but I like him,” Helen said. “He’s a straight shooter.”

  Jinx wasn’t convinced but was willing to give her aunt the benefit of the doubt until she got to know the man better. “If you say so.”

  “Thank you, Nola,” Johnny said. “And thank you, Tranquility Players, for inviting me to be your director. I love this play, I love this town, and like all of you, I love Missy Michaels.”

  Johnny’s speech was interrupted by a round of raucous applause. He understood that as the director he was technically in charge of the whole shebang, but the real star of the show was the star who had yet to arrive. Until then, he had to keep the excitement brewing to build suspense for her grand entrance.

  “I guarantee you that if we all work together, our production of Arsenic and Old Lace will be a huge hit and will become a legend in this town,” Johnny claimed. “I for one can’t wait to get to work. So come on, Tranquility, show me what you’ve got and let the auditions begin! And to quote Jaques, the star of Shakespeare’s As You Like It, in the melancholy Frenchman’s own language, Tout le monde est une scène.”

  “What’s that mean?” Jinx asked.

  “Tutto il mondo è un palcoscenico,” Helen replied.

  “In English, Aunt Helen.”

  “It means all the world’s a stage,” Helen translated.

  Jinx was by no means a Shakespeare aficionado, but she had taken a dramatic literature class in college that focused on several of the Bard’s more popular works, and being Nola’s roommate, she had read lines from many of his plays with her over the years. Recalling the full soliloquy that Johnny had referenced made her suddenly feel queasy. Johnny quoted Shakespeare to rally the troops, but Jinx took it as ominous foreboding.

  Like most messages, the truth of the soliloquy had been forgotten and all that was remembered was the catchphrase because it was a more optimistic sound-bite and, therefore, easier to accept. Jinx knew the character of Jaques wasn’t celebrating the world’s desire to perform on stage; he was describing how every single one of us was marching toward our own inevitable death.

  CHAPTER 5

  Che cast intrigante di personaggi.

  There is nothing that ignites the imagination more than an empty stage. Anything can happen in that blank space, and utilizing a bit of theatrical knowhow can transform a back wall and a wooden floor into the majestic hills of Austria, the bloody battlegrounds of the French Revolution, or a cheap but desirable apartment in New Orleans. Because where there is nothing there could be everything. And even on the modest stage of St. Winifred’s Academy the possibilities were endless.

  Built in 1954, the theatre was an addition to the school to commemorate the academy’s tenth anniversary. Even though its architecture was simplistic and its design practical rather than ornate, it was greeted by the public at the time as a marvelous achievement and a symbol of what the future could hold. In a small but very significant way, it brought live entertainment to postwar Tranquility when all the world wanted to do was sing, dance, and act out fantastic stories.

  Over the decades, the proscenium theatre was renovated, with some of the changes being cosmetic, while others technical upgrades. The main curtain, originally made of thick cotton, was replaced with one made of velvet. Its rich red color was maintained, but now a trim of gold brocade was added as well as a valence in the same color scheme. An apron was added to the stage with a radius of three feet, allowing for a larger playing area in front of the main curtain, and an elaborate arch was added to give the stage a more eye-catching frame. On each side of the stage, three gold columns rose and curved to outline the curtain. But what gave them their star quality was that on both sides just before the curve, the columns intertwined to create geometrical florets. An intricate addition to an otherwise standard design.

  The sound system was upgraded to include twelve more channels, two new lighting trees were hung from the ceiling on either side of the stage, and a row of running lights was added to the crossover behind the back curtain so actors wouldn’t have to cross from one side of the stage to the other in total darkness.

  The auditorium saw improvements as well. Thanks to a hefty endowment in 1974 by Didi Joy McAllister—the then-mayor’s second wife, who was much younger and more liberated than his first—every one of the 472 seats in the theatre was reupholstered in the same red velvet as the main curtain. Her generous donation also allowed for the male and female dressing rooms to be equipped with individual makeup stations and a shower, the addition of a private star dressing room, a ramp for wheelchair access into the theatre, and a portrait of Didi Joy with a plaque underneath identifying her as the founding president of the Tranquility Players and being a “humble benefactress of and proud participant in the theatrical arts” that still hung in the front lobby. Didi had written the quote herself.

  Nola, as the Tranquility Players’s current president, made it a habit to offer a smile to Didi Joy’s portrait every time she entered the theatre as a way of paying homage to her group’s founder. She was still smiling as she stood on the lip of the apron to welcome her cast.

  “Welcome to your new home,” Nola started. “For the next six weeks yo
u’ll be spending so much time here in this beautiful theatre rehearsing that you’ll think you enrolled at St. Winifred’s Academy.”

  Laughter erupted all around Alberta, who was standing in the back of the theatre by herself, although she didn’t join in the merriment. She wasn’t there to be part of the action, she was there to cheer on her sister.

  “As for many of you, the theatre is my home,” Nola said. “It’s here where I find my passion, my peace, and, most importantly, my family. I want to thank each and every one of you for joining me in this journey, and while we may not be tied by blood, we’re bound by something much more powerful: our love for the stage. Let’s use this time before we start rehearsal to get to know one another, become comfortable in one another’s company, and create bonds that will last forever.”

  Alberta was too perplexed by Nola’s speech to join in the applause. What could be more powerful than family ties? Friends and community were treasures for sure, but nothing could take the place of family. As the clapping grew louder and more enthusiastic, Alberta realized she might be wrong. She felt, as many Italian women did, that life began and ended with family. Her opinion could never be swayed, but that didn’t mean others couldn’t have a different interpretation. Especially when that interpretation was born out of necessity.

  Alberta remembered that not only was Nola adopted, but both her adoptive and biological parents were dead. Being an only child with no close relatives, Nola didn’t have a traditional family, so she had created her own. Her close circle of friends, the people who shared her passion for theatre, became her brothers and sisters, her aunts and uncles, maybe even a new set of surrogate parents. Even Alberta and her family were part of that circle. Nola wasn’t related to any of these people by blood but by choice. It filled Alberta’s heart with joy that the young woman had found her own family.

  Looking around the theatre, Alberta was delighted to see that she had found an old friend.

  “Bruno!” Alberta cried.

  Standing in the aisle, a tall, blond-haired man, turned when he heard his name. He recognized Alberta in an instant and flashed her his trademark smile: full, genuine, and a showcase for his pearly, white teeth. Alberta returned his smile and was glad to see that the public defender had finally decided to put his matinee idol looks to good use. Other than representing defendants who couldn’t afford to pay for legal counsel, of course.

  “Bruno bel Bruno, are you going to be in this play too?” Alberta asked.

  “Yes ma’am,” Bruno replied. “I’ve gone from being Nola’s lawyer to being her Teddy.”

  “You’re going to be her teddy bear?” Alberta questioned.

  Bruno laughed so hard his blue eyes seemed to twinkle. “I’ve been cast to play Teddy Brewster, the nephew to the two spinsters, who thinks he’s Teddy Roosevelt.”

  “Congratulations,” Alberta said. “I had no idea you were interested in acting.”

  “There’s a fine line that separates practicing law and strutting your stuff onstage,” Bruno said. “I thought I would give the latter a try.”

  “If you command an audience the same way you command a jury, you’ll wind up stealing the show,” Alberta said.

  “Don’t tell that to Missy Michaels,” Bruno said. “Rumor has it she’s the real star.”

  “Trust me,” Alberta whispered. “You’re going to give the old lady a run for her money.”

  Bruno smiled again, but this time his lips didn’t part to reveal his perfect orthodontia. His expression, however, revealed his absolute fondness for Alberta.

  “At the risk of favoring my emotionally demonstrative Sicilian ancestry over my emotionally restrained Swedish heritage,” Bruno stated, “could I have a hug?”

  It was an offer no Italian could refuse.

  Alberta embraced her friend and was instantly enveloped by two strong arms. At five foot four, Alberta was dwarfed by Bruno’s six two, muscular frame, but the lawyer-turned-part-time-actor bent over, so it looked as if they were dancing cheek to cheek. Until Alberta’s boyfriend broke up the action.

  “Do I need to pour cold water on you two?”

  Sloan McLelland wasn’t as tall as Bruno and not nearly as wide, but his query elicited the desired response and Alberta and Bruno separated. And then they burst into a mutual fit of laughter.

  “So much for the authority of the boyfriend,” Sloan said, laughing along with them.

  “It’s great to see you again, Sloan,” Bruno said, extending his hand.

  “What?” Sloan asked. “I’m not worthy of a hug?”

  When Sloan was hoisted two feet off the ground thanks to Bruno’s bear hug, he was forced to rethink his request. “You can put me down now,” Sloan said breathlessly.

  When Sloan was safely back on the ground, Alberta tucked his dress shirt into his chinos and, in her best admonishing tone, said, “Be careful what you wish for, Mr. McLelland, you might just get it.”

  “I’ll remember that the next time we’re alone,” he replied.

  Alberta slapped Sloan playfully on the shoulder. “May I remind you that we have company,” she said, tilting her head in Bruno’s direction.

  “I see the two of you have gotten closer,” Bruno said.

  “You would be right about that,” Alberta replied, this time her eyes glowing in Sloan’s direction.

  “That makes me happy,” Bruno said. “But what are you two doing here? Did you get cast in the show too? I didn’t see you at the auditions.”

  “No, I’m helping Joyce with publicity,” Sloan explained.

  “And I’m here because I didn’t want to be left out,” Alberta said with a laugh. “Jinx is also here somewhere because she’s going to write some articles on the production, and my sister, Helen, is playing your aunt. It’s a regular family affair.”

  “Helen is a riot!” Bruno exclaimed. “I read some lines with her for the audition and she doesn’t need an ounce of rehearsal, she’s ready to go on tonight.”

  “This is a role she was born to play,” Alberta said. “I’m so happy she’s getting her moment in the spotlight. It’s long overdue.”

  “That’s for sure,” Bruno agreed. “And it’s nice to see Nola in a different kind of spotlight, if you know what I mean.”

  Alberta knew all too well what Bruno meant and she too thought it was a nice change of pace for Nola to be standing in the footlights instead of waiting to give a sample of her fingerprints. A lot had changed since the last time Nola was a large part of their lives. When Alberta felt her stomach lurch, she realized a lot had also stayed the same.

  Why was she getting that weird feeling in the pit of her stomach again, the feeling that she was about to step into another puddle of danger? Maybe it was the residual effects of being in a theatre, her imagination in overdrive. Forcing herself to focus on the real world and not the conjuring of precarious thoughts, Alberta steered the conversation to more mundane matters.

  “It looks like you’re not the only resident poised to make his community theatre debut,” Alberta said. “I see Dr. Grazioso, one of the vets at the animal shelter, and Benny, the photographer who works with Jinx at The Herald.”

  “And isn’t that Luke from the morgue?” Sloan asked.

  Alberta had unfortunately visited Luke on several occasions at his workplace, so she recognized the lanky, long-haired orderly immediately. “It most certainly is.”

  “Having a morgue attendant cast in a murder mystery could come in handy,” Bruno suggested.

  Without looking at each other, Alberta and Sloan, responded as one: “Bite your tongue!”

  Before Bruno could apologize for his bad joke, Johnny called out and asked for Bruno to join him on the stage.

  “Sorry, my director needs me,” Bruno declared. “I’ll see you both later.”

  They watched Bruno follow his director’s orders and hightail it up to the stage. Neither Alberta nor Sloan had ever participated in a theatrical event as part of the cast, backstage crew, or production staff, so
they were amazed by the electricity in the air. The show hadn’t even started rehearsal and the air was overflowing with energy. The feeling was infectious.

  Sloan’s blue eyes twinkled and looked even more youthful than Bruno’s, even though he was more than twice the lawyer’s age. He placed his hand on the small of Alberta’s back and pulled her close to him. When she breathed, all she could smell was the cologne he always wore, which was a blend of pine and vanilla. As Sloan pressed his lips against Alberta’s waiting mouth, the scent intensified, and she felt her body swoon into his. The physical contact was definitely unexpected, but not at all unwanted. Alberta wasn’t used to open displays of affection in a crowded space, but she was old enough to know that learning new tricks was the trick to staying young.

  And also capturing the attention of the police.

  “Do I need to pour cold water on you two?”

  “Tambra Mitchell!” Alberta cried. “Please tell me you’re in the play too and you’re not here to arrest us for disorderly conduct?”

  “The correct charge would be lewd behavior,” Tambra corrected.

  “Dio mio!” Alberta cried. “I’d be like my cousin Rosa, who brought shame on the entire family. God rest her soul.”

  “Vinny’s right,” Tambra said. “You really do have a colorful family.”

  “Vinny should watch his mouth,” Alberta teased. “I know all about the skeletons in his family’s closet, and some of them are in Technicolor.”

  “I’ll keep that in mind,” Tambra replied. “And to answer your question, I’m playing Elaine Harper; she’s engaged to Mortimer, who’s the nephew to the homicidal aunts.”

  “I can’t believe this play is a comedy,” Alberta said.

  “One of the funniest ever written,” Sloan replied. “I can’t wait to spread the word, this show is precisely what this town needs.”