Theater Nights Are Murder

by Libby Klein

  The audience laughed harder this time and Mr. Sheinberg lit up like a firecracker.

  Neil directed Mother Gibson to send Sophie out early to move on to the next scene because this one was hopelessly lost.

  Sophie was pushed out onto the stage in the middle of eating a Kit Kat. She muttered an apology. “I get low blood sugar.” Mother Gibson reached her hand out from backstage and took the candy away from the woman.

  Sophie got the men back on track until it was time to sing. Mr. Ricardo was supposed to have a guitar in the boat, but he couldn’t find it, so he ad-libbed, “Well, I’d play my guitar along with you, Sophie, but it appears to be missing from the boat that I rode in on.”

  There was a whistle, then a guitar flew over the backdrop from backstage and Royce caught it and handed it to Mr. Ricardo. “Here you go.”

  “Thanks.”

  I could see Winky and Finn in the front row beet-faced from laughing.

  Aunt Ginny entered the next scene carrying her watering can. She was supposed to bump into the men and be surprised. When she yelled, “What are you doing here?” Royce answered, “I’m doing a play at the Senior Center.”

  Aunt Ginny was so stunned that she missed her cue for the song and had to come in on the second line. The audience was laughing so hard at this point. I don’t think anyone noticed.

  When the song was over, she came to my booth. “Did you see that? He didn’t even know we were in the middle of the show.”

  “I saw it.”

  But then Aunt Ginny realized she’d forgotten her watering can onstage and the stage crew had changed the scene to Tanya and Rosie’s bedroom. “Oh no.”

  I clicked on my headset. “Forgot the watering can.”

  Mother Gibson clicked back. “On it.”

  Tanya and Rosie were sitting on the bed discussing Donna’s situation when Mrs. Dodson’s cane inched out from the side of the stage in front of the scene and snagged the watering can, scraping it backstage before the “Chiquitita” number.

  Georgina led the chorus up the aisle for “Dancing Queen.” I heard the audience roar with laughter in the middle of the number, but I couldn’t see what happened. Then Mother Gibson clicked over the headset and told me between gasps of laughter that the sequins on Georgina’s costume sleeve caught Dicky Crebb’s toupee and ripped it off his head on the way back down the aisle. It was flying back and forth with her arm movements like she was flinging a hamster.

  Neil brought down the house in his “Lay All Your Love on Me” duet with Sophie, even though she looked old enough to be his mother. Then Sophie got a crick in her back crawling on the stage toward Sky and the seniors in the chorus had to improvise the dance scene to include picking her up and carrying her around the stage flat on her back. One of the stage crew had to prop her up in front of a potted palm in the scenery for her to ask Mr. Sheinberg if he was her dad.

  He replied, “Oh God, I hope not.”

  Neil wiped a tear from his eye. “That scene always gets me.”

  The music picked up and the chorus with Georgina rejoined the stage for the nightclub scene at the end of act one. Mother Gibson couldn’t get the fog machine to work. Mr. Sheinberg and Mr. Ricardo were carried off by the dancers as the story goes, but they kept sneaking back onstage to dance with the ladies. The dancers carted them off again, but they went across the catwalk and entered from the other side of the stage. Since Sophie had hurt her back in the beach scene with Neil, she couldn’t perform the faint at the end of “Voulez-Vous” like she was supposed to, so Mr. Sheinberg decided to add some drama of his own to make up for it. He clutched his chest and dropped to the stage. “Goodbye, cruel world.”

  Neil came in over the headset. “What is he doing? Bill doesn’t die! He has to be in the next act.”

  Mr. Sheinberg flopped over to his stomach and groaned. “Oh, the pain.” He kicked out his leg. “I’m dying. I think it’s my heart!”

  Mother Gibson had to go out and fetch him. She dragged him offstage as the curtain was going down. We could still hear him groaning over the audience’s applause. “Oy, my heart. Wait! It’s a false alarm. It was just gas.” The houselights came on, announcing the intermission. Royce grinned at me and Aunt Ginny. “I think that went rather well.”

  The seniors had fifteen minutes to change for act two. I followed them to the dressing room. I wanted to catch Royce and warn him, but he’d been cornered by someone with a microphone.

  While I stuffed the biddies into their wedding party costumes, they wanted to know what I’d found in Neil’s desk. I filled them in on the keyman policy and the suspicion that I didn’t want to have.

  “I don’t believe it.” Aunt Ginny shook her head. “Neil? Trying to kill Royce?”

  Mrs. Dodson shook her head. “You just never know about some people. I blame a poor upbringing.”

  Mother Gibson clicked in my ear. “Two minutes.”

  “We have to get back.” I led the biddies out into the hall. Royce was being interviewed by Cape Gazette newspaper, Fiona standing proudly at his side. When we passed we heard him say, “And that’s why I’m leaving my estate to the Cape May Community Theater Program.”

  Even Fiona’s orange lip stain turned pale. “You what?”

  Royce patted her hand. “I thought I told you that, Fee.”

  Aunt Ginny picked up her speed. “We better get in there quick. Don’t want to be late for curtain call.”

  Mrs. Davis chuckled behind her. “You don’t want to get caught in the undertow of that drama about to roll out.”

  We hustled backstage behind the curtain.

  Iggy started the act two overture and Aunt Ginny and Sophie took their places for the opening scene. The curtain rose, and before Aunt Ginny could say, “What’s going on, Sophie?” everything stopped for a ruckus in the theater.

  “I can’t believe you would treat your own family this way!”

  “Fee! Sit down.”

  “Don’t you tell my mother to sit down! She has worshipped the ground you walk on, and you care only about yourself.”

  I peeked around the corner to see Blanche staggering up the aisle clutching her arm, either drunk or hopped up on pain medication. “Let her talk. You screwed her over just like you screwed me over. It’s time everyone in here knew about it. The great Royce Hansen. Broadway’s leading man. A liar and a cheat.”

  Camera flashes were going off all over the audience. Mother Gibson clicked through my headset. “This’ll be all over the news tomorrow. That fella in the center there is with Channel Eight.”

  Fiona turned on Blanche. “Stay out of this, Moira!”

  Neil jumped onstage and held up his hands. “I am so sorry, ladies and gentlemen. We’ll be just a moment. Royce.” He started motioning to Royce to join him onstage.

  Royce went up the steps and Blanche yelled, “Are you his little lapdog now? You always do what the director says, don’t you, Royce? Always have to be the director’s pet. Well, you know he’s hoping you die during the play.”

  A collective gasp went through the room. The fog machine chose that minute to finally kick in and a blue-white mist curled its way around the stage, making it look like a graveyard.

  Royce was shocked. “You—you poisonous, bunch-backed toad. Thine face is not worth sunburning.”

  Blanche was enjoying the spotlight. “You didn’t know, did you?”

  Neil spoke into his headset. “Someone please call security.”

  Mother Gibson answered, “We don’t have security.”

  “Then call the police.”

  Blanche gave a hollow laugh. “I’m the one who approved the policy. If Royce gets hurt and dies during the play, Neil collects two hundred and fifty thousand dollars. What do you think of that, Fiona? I bet you’d like to get your hands on that kind of money.”

  All eyes were on Neil. The auditorium was silent. The seniors started creeping out onto the stage. First the lady playing Sophie shuffled out holding her back. “Is that true, Neil?”
>
  Then Mrs. Davis joined her. “It was you, wasn’t it? Those accidents were aimed for Royce.”

  Mrs. Sheinberg stood up from the second row. “What about Duke? Did you push Duke off the catwalk thinking he was Royce?”

  Bebe cried out from somewhere on the wing, “Am I still getting paid?”

  Even the audience members got in on it and started jeering at Neil like they were at The Rocky Horror Picture Show. “Murderer!”

  Neil turned pale. “I haven’t been trying to kill Royce.” He looked around frantically. “That policy is to take care of my mother in case something happens to Royce. You can ask my insurance provider. He’s been here all week, doing safety audits. Terrence?”

  A tiny Piglet voice squeaked, “Over here.”

  Blanche yelled, “You can’t talk your way out of this. You killed Duke because you thought he was Royce! You’re as greedy as the rest of them!”

  Neil’s arms dropped to his sides. “I didn’t kill Duke. And I would never try to hurt Royce. I love Royce. He’s my father.”

  Everything went still. Royce clutched his heart and had to sit down on the bed onstage.

  “I put this play on to bring Royce back to Cape May. I started selling tickets months ago to build the stage. I even enlisted his sister’s help to contact him. I’m ashamed to admit that I made you think this was all for charity, so you’d say yes.”

  Royce stared at Neil. “You’re my son?”

  I took a good look at Neil. How did we not notice it before? The same eyes. The same jawline. Even the body language was the same.

  Neil nodded. “I saw you at the Broadhurst last year and paid someone to let me in your dressing room, where I stole a glass and some of your hair. I know that sounds creepy, but I had to be sure. I have a DNA report. I didn’t want to tell you until I found out who my mother was.”

  Royce stared at Neil, looking for the resemblance. “Who is your mother?”

  “I don’t know. I’ve known I was adopted my whole life. My adoptive family said I was born in the Cape Admiral Home for Unwed Mothers in the spring of 1954, and that my father had gone to Broadway to be a star. All I was left with was a little, yellow, knitted blanket that had embroidered on it, ‘I’ll always love you, Pickle.’ I’ve been following your career closely. I thought this play would be a chance to find out who my mother was. That’s why I put you together on stage. You see, I’ve narrowed it down to Blanche, your old partner, and Ginny, your high school girlfriend.”

  My brain turned to cotton. I was afraid to move.

  Blanche shook her head. “I’m not your mother. I never had children.”

  I looked at Aunt Ginny, but her face was the color of ash. She wouldn’t look me in the eye but turned and ran off the stage and out of the theater.

  Mrs. Dodson stood up and silently went after her, followed by Mrs. Davis and Mother Gibson. None of them spoke a word.

  Chapter Forty-Six

  I took my headset off and placed it on the light panel. Then I left the stage and went in search of Aunt Ginny. She would get no judgment from me. I found the group of ladies huddled around her in the activity room.

  I went to her side and put my hand on her shoulder. Behind me, I heard Royce. “Ginny?”

  Aunt Ginny wouldn’t look at him.

  Neil came in and squatted down in front of her. “I’m so sorry to do things this way. But I have to ask. Are you my mother?”

  “No. I am.” Mrs. Dodson stepped forward, her eyes cast on the linoleum tiles.

  Neil stood up to face the old woman, whose lined face and mournful eyes told of a life of regret. “You? I didn’t even have you on my radar.”

  “I wasn’t in a relationship with your father. I made a mistake. An illicit, one-time fling. Something that was very taboo back in my day.”

  Aunt Ginny kept her eyes forward but reached her hand up to cover her friend’s.

  Mrs. Dodson seemed to gain both courage and shame at Aunt Ginny’s touch. Her voice was heavy with emotion. “We were all infatuated with Royce. But he and Ginny were going steady. We thought he was going to propose after graduation. Then one night, after a football game, I fit into those poodle skirts back then. Royce had been flirting with me and he invited me to park. I was over the moon. I thought he loved me. He didn’t. It was foolish and treacherous. Ginny was my best friend and what I did was unforgivable. I never told Royce. I never told any of them.”

  Aunt Ginny cut in. “We didn’t need to know.”

  “The girls stood by me through the whole thing. Ginny drove me to the home for unwed mothers and named you Pickle. Lila made your blanket, and Thelma embroidered your name on it.” Mrs. Dodson’s lip began to tremble. “Giving you up was the hardest thing I’ve ever done, but I was eighteen and my family would have disowned me. No one would give me a job. How could I take care of you?”

  Aunt Ginny gazed lovingly at her. “Why didn’t you tell us it was Royce?”

  “I was ashamed. You do foolish things when you’re young and you think you’re in love. I’ve lived with the shame my whole life. Oh, Ginny, can you ever forgive me?”

  Aunt Ginny stood up and wrapped her arms around Mrs. Dodson’s neck. She turned around to face Royce and slapped him across the face. “I don’t know if that’s for being unfaithful to me or for almost destroying Edith’s life. But you deserve it for both.”

  Royce’s eyes were misty. “I’m not the same man today that I was in my youth. I carried on behind your back, but you were the only one who had my heart, Ginger.” Then he turned to Mrs. Dodson. “Edith, I don’t know what to say. You didn’t deserve to go through that. Do you forgive me?”

  Mrs. Dodson finally looked Royce in the eye. “No. Not yet.”

  “When?” he pleaded.

  “I’ll let you know.”

  Aunt Ginny and Mrs. Dodson hugged and were quickly surrounded by a teary-eyed Mrs. Davis and Mother Gibson. The four of them had carried the secret for over sixty years. Their friendship had created a bond to last a lifetime.

  Sawyer made her way to my side with tears streaming down her cheeks. We grasped each other’s hands. Mrs. Sheinberg handed us tissues she’d plucked from her sleeve.

  Aunt Ginny reached for Neil and called him Pickle. Then the ladies opened their arms and drew Neil into their hug. In a way, they were all part of his story.

  The room broke into applause, and we were stunned to find that the audience had crammed into the activity room behind us. They seemed to be under the impression that this was all part of the play. Someone said it was a big, twist ending.

  The biddies looked at one another and Aunt Ginny whispered, “What do we do?”

  I shrugged. “Take a bow?”

  So, the biddies, Neil, and Royce took an awkward bow. Neil hollered for everyone to make their way back to the theater for the finale number, where the cast performed their two encore songs.

  When the final curtain dropped, Neil took the microphone one last time. “Thank you for indulging our Friday the thirteenth surprise ending for Mamma Mia! And for those of you who would like to come back tomorrow, you can see a different Valentine’s Day ending, one that will very likely be more traditional.”

  Royce was next to my light cage, watching Neil handle the disaster with grace. The audience was eating it up. “Oh yeah. Now I see the resemblance. He gets that from me.” Royce grinned at Aunt Ginny. She returned a tight-lipped scowl.

  I gave Aunt Ginny a bouquet and kissed her on the cheek. “You were wonderful.” The seniors milled through the audience, being greeted by everyone and receiving flowers. Smitty had a bouquet for Georgina. Mr. Ricardo had a dozen roses and he handed one out to each of the ladies.

  Mrs. Dodson and Neil stayed to themselves, off to the side. I imagined that Neil had a lifetime of questions.

  Everywhere we turned, Aunt Ginny received praise about the play.

  “What a clever twist at the end.”

  Aunt Ginny replied, “Yes, wasn’t it.”

  “A
play within a play.”

  “Who saw that coming?”

  Sawyer joined me as soon as she could make her way through the crowd and we left Aunt Ginny to her fans. “Oh my gosh. Did you know?”

  “I had no idea. I think only Mrs. Dodson knew.”

  “I can’t imagine holding on to a secret like that my whole life.”

  A trim woman with golden-brown hair approached us in the back of the theater. She wore a black dress and carried a beaded black purse. A teenage boy followed two steps behind her, staring at his shoelace dragging on the ground. “Are you Poppy?”

  “Yes.”

  She put out her hand. “I’m Abby. Duke’s daughter. This is my son, Kevin.”

  Kevin looked up for a brief moment, said a quick “hi,” then fixed his eyes back on his feet.

  So, Duke’s grandson is not Charles. I took Abby’s hand and gave her a squeeze. “Nice to meet you. This is my girlfriend, Sawyer.”

  Sawyer also made introductions.

  “I’m so sorry about your father,” I said. “I hope that little weird ending to the play didn’t upset the two of you.”

  She gave me a tiny smile. “My father was a cop for fifty years. One thing he taught me was how to spot the truth. That was no twist ending.”

  “You saw through the PR speech, huh?”

  Her smile broadened. “I was actually touched that some of Dad’s friends are still trying to avenge his death.”

  “People here loved your dad. They’re having a hard time making peace with what happened.”

  Abby looked at her son and back to me. “That’s what we wanted to talk to you about. The lady who played Tanya said I should see you about the suicide note.”

  I looked across the room, and Mrs. Davis gave me a little nod.

  “What’s on your mind?”

  She sat her purse on the seat next to her and took a breath. “The police showed me the suicide note. That doesn’t sound anything like Dad. His lover left him? Dad didn’t have lovers. He was dating some of the ladies here, but he wasn’t looking for a fling. And who is Charlie?” Her eyes darted uncomfortably to Kevin for a moment. “He was lonely. He told me he wanted to get married again, but the ladies here were all enjoying the single life. They’d already gone the marriage-and-children route and didn’t want to give up their independence.” She gave a laugh. “He said a couple of them wanted to play the field.”