Wicked Stage

by Michelle Dayton

  It got him thinking, that’s for sure.

  A hostess seated them at a table in the corner, which made Adam happy. He always liked to have his back to a wall so he could see anyone enter and leave the room. Even though they weren’t doing anything tonight except meeting Tony for drinks, it was a hard habit to break.

  The bar menu was almost forty pages long. Jess flipped through it, occasionally reading a description of a particular drink aloud. When she saw the prices, she whistled and winked. “Hope you’re paying tonight, gorgeous. I’m not the kind of girl who shells out eighteen pounds for a glass of bourbon.”

  Adam snorted. “I’m good for it.” He glanced at the time on his phone. “Tony’s late; let’s just go ahead and order.” His tone was bland, but he was irritated. The least his uncle could have done after dragging them across the ocean was be on time.

  “I’m a little nervous,” Jess said suddenly.

  Surprised, he cut his eyes to her face. “Why?”

  She shifted in her seat. “What if he doesn’t like me?” Her cheeks flushed and she looked down at the table.

  Adam gaped at her. Jess was nervous to meet Tony? “That’s crazy.” He was the one who was nervous about the evening, about the two most important people in his life meeting. Talk about worlds colliding. He suddenly wondered if he’d picked too formal of a place for their first introduction. Would some random pub have been better? Maybe subconsciously, he’d realized that it was a huge occasion and he wanted the surroundings to reflect it.

  Jess’s gaze caught on something across the room. As her brows narrowed and she stared, he wondered what else he could say to reassure her. She looked back at him and when she spoke, amusement was clear in her voice. “He’s not late,” she said. “He beat us here. He’s sitting at a table across the room grinning at me.”

  What? Adam turned his head. There was a man at a table across the room but his face was blocked from Adam’s view by the large grand piano. “How do you know? I’ve never even shown you a picture.”

  “How can I tell? For heaven’s sake, Adam, he’s got your eyes, exactly. I’m amazed the waitresses aren’t throwing themselves in his lap. His smile is identical too!”

  It was? Adam had never noticed any resemblance.

  Jess stood. “Where are you going?” Adam asked, uneasily.

  She squared her shoulders. “To introduce myself.”

  Jess marched away from the table, and Adam felt the butterflies in his stomach multiply until it felt like a swarm wanted to swim up through his throat. This was not the way he’d planned the introductions. He’d been prepared to control the conversation, at least until things were going well. He craned his neck, saw Jess stretch her hand out to the seated man.

  “Ready to order?” The waitress approached and completely blocked his view of the other table.

  He squelched the impulse to physically move her. “Not quite yet,” he answered pleasantly. “Try us in about five minutes.”

  In five minutes, he had to ask for another five. When she came back the third time, he gave up and ordered himself a stiff drink. God only knew what was going on across the room, what Tony was saying to her. Jess had sat down with Tony at his table, but her back was turned so he couldn’t read her at all.

  Tony had gone to prison when Adam was twenty-four. He hadn’t introduced a girl to him since high school. And Christ, that had never gone well. He remembered bringing a casual girlfriend by their apartment once. His uncle had chatted with her kindly for a few minutes, and Adam thought everything was fine. But when he went to grab them some sodas from the fridge, Tony said, “She’s got a great rack and the brain of a goat,” without even bothering to lower his voice. The girl left immediately, much to Adam’s dismay. He’d been pretty interested in that rack.

  If Tony used any farm animal analogies regarding Jess, Adam would punch him in the face.

  Halfway into his martini, Jess and Tony finally ambled over, all smiles. “Sorry, my boy,” Tony said, lowering himself in the chair next to Adam. “I just wanted a few minutes alone with your woman. You’re too cross-eyed over her. As an objective third party, I decided I better see if you still had lousy taste.”

  Adam wondered when it was in life that you outgrew being humiliated by a parental unit. “And?” he said through gritted teeth.

  Jess settled at his other side. “Apparently I pass. He’s conceded that I’m bright, even though I also have nice legs.”

  Tony hooted. “Best pins I’ve ever seen.” Adam felt the corners of his mouth turn up. Couldn’t argue with that. Her legs were the first thing he’d noticed about Jess on the night they met.

  Tony picked up the cocktail menu and looked over the top of it at Jess, his bright eyes twinkling. “Welcome to the family, pretty girl.”

  Then he exclaimed, “Eighteen pounds for a whiskey! Fuckin’ highway robbery!” Jess started laughing so hard she doubled over in her chair.

  The tightness in Adam’s chest dissolved completely. He looked between his uncle and his girl and had to clear his throat three times before he was able to join their fun.

  * * *

  Dinner was greasy fish and chips at a pub near the apartment Tony and his two cronies were renting for the month. Jess sloshed malt vinegar over everything and tried not to stuff it all into her mouth at once. It was so delicious it was almost hard to concentrate when Adam and Tony started talking shop.

  “We have to confirm Webb owns the Blue before we plan any sort of break-in,” Adam insisted. “In the picture, the ring looks legit, but his daughter could have been wearing a knock-off. There’s zero reason to take on the risk unless we know for sure that he has the ring.”

  “Fair enough,” Tony said, appearing to be reasonable. “But I’ve done all the research. There’s nothing published anywhere that says he’s the owner.”

  Jess munched away, trying to think of any way to find proof of Webb’s ownership with her trusty laptop. She’d already helped herself to the databases of every large insurance company and couldn’t find any policies for Webb. Nor did she find any policies for a blue diamond worth over fifteen million dollars. But that wasn’t proof he didn’t have it; there were other insurance companies and maybe it wasn’t even purchased in Webb’s name.

  Would a direct approach be a good idea? “What if we pretended to be from a magazine and called Webb and just asked him if he owned it?” Jess suggested. “We could say we saw the picture of his daughter and recognized the piece. Play to his ego and ask if he’s the ‘man behind the mysterious jewel’ or something like that.”

  Adam and Tony exchanged glances. “Playing to his ego is a good idea,” Adam said. “He appears to have a large one.”

  “But he’s a paranoid bastard,” Tony said. “He’s famously secretive about everything: his homes, his movie roles, his ex-marriages.” He sighed. “I don’t think that personality type would react well to a direct question. He’d probably deflect or deny—and then beef up any security he already has in place around the damn thing.”

  After a moment of silence, Adam finished his pint and shook his head. “I think we have to use the daughter herself. Katrina Webb would know if it’s real jewelry from her dad or some trinket her stylist told her to wear.”

  That made sense. “Is she an easy person to, ah...access?” Jess asked.

  Both men smiled at her hesitant use of the terminology. “Not at the moment,” Tony answered. “She’s filming some indie movie in the wilds of Germany right now. But—” his eyes gleamed “—she’s supposedly coming back to support the auditions for her dad’s charity play next week. A lot of the tabloids are betting that Olive Summers is going to drop out as the female lead and Katrina will step in.”

  Jess wrinkled her nose. “For the Margot Wendice role? But Katrina Webb is so young! The actors playing the male leads are in their forties.”


  “The age difference won’t be as noticeable on the stage as it would be on the screen,” Adam said.

  “And it’s another publicity angle,” Tony added. “Famous father directing up-and-coming daughter.”

  “So, we know she’ll be at the auditions,” Jess said slowly. “What’s the plan? We go and somehow manage to temporarily befriend her and ask her about the ring?”

  “I don’t think that’ll work,” Adam said. “They’re calling them ‘open’ auditions but it’s not like American Idol, where people can just line up and try out. I looked online. Actors who want to audition have to submit headshots and a resume. They’re going to filter those applicants down to six per open role or understudy position and only those actors will actually be seen. Since the whole thing is being directed by Mr. Paranoid, I assume the premises will be heavily secured.”

  He signaled to the server and ordered another round of Guinness for the table. “I suppose we could try a friendly ambush on Katrina Webb before or after the auditions while she’s walking down the street, but it’s not a very reliable plan. She might never leave her father’s side. She might arrive and leave in a private car.”

  As Adam and Tony started to discuss the pros and cons of a fake “meet and greet,” Jess tuned out. Trying to bump into the director’s daughter on the street to ask her about her jewelry was a pretty tenuous plan. The audition itself would be much better, particularly since they were limiting each role to six applicants. There were only a half dozen roles in the play anyway. In such a small gathering of people, it would be easy to chat up the other actors.

  The answer came to her so suddenly she laughed aloud, startling the men. “I’ve got it,” she announced. She turned to Adam. “You’re going to audition.”

  His mouth dropped open. “Excuse me?”

  She punched him in the shoulder. “Oh come on. You spend half your life acting! We’ll whip you up a fake drama resume. I’ll hack into whatever systems and plant your experience. We can find a place to get some emergency headshots taken.” She leaned back in her chair, feeling brilliant. “By this time tomorrow night you’ll be a bona fide actor.”

  Adam looked like he wanted to strangle her. “Playing a role for a con is a very different thing than being a stage actor,” he started.

  But Tony interrupted, his eyes shining with glee. “Oh, but it isn’t like you haven’t any experience. Remember your freshman year of high school? The Music Man? To this day, I think you were the best Harold Hill I’ve ever seen.”

  Jess’s eyes widened. Adam had been a drama nerd in high school? Oh God, this was too, too good. She held back a wheeze of laughter and poked Tony in the side. “Please tell me you have a video somewhere of him singing ‘Ya Got Trouble.’”

  Tony snort-laughed into his Guinness. “Oh, pretty girl, I sure do.” He gave her one of his mischievous winks. “I believe there’s even a bit of tap dancing involved.”

  “It’s going to be the best Christmas ever,” Jess managed, before they both dissolved into hysterical laughter.

  “I will kill you both,” Adam said succinctly.

  Tony pulled himself together quicker. “Your girl’s idea is good.”

  “There’s no guarantee I’d get chosen for the audition,” Adam protested. “There have to be thousands of applicants.”

  Jess indulged herself with a long look at him, at those eyes and cheekbones. Those lips. There might be thousands of applicants, but Adam had a one-in-a-million face.

  “Let’s just try,” she said. “You guys can still work on other angles for Webb’s daughter, but let’s throw your application in the mix too.”

  Adam rolled his eyes. “Fine. I think it’s a waste of time, but fine.”

  Chapter Four

  Three nights later at 8:59 pm, Jess placed Adam’s cell phone on the kitchen counter in Tony’s tiny apartment and willed it to ring. Tony perched on a stool next to her and waited. According to the play’s website, all finalists chosen to audition would be contacted at 9:00 pm on December 8th. The auditions themselves would be held two days later at the play’s venue, the Noble Theatre.

  Passing by with a pizza box, Adam snorted. “You two are ridiculous. There’s no chance in hell.” He carried the box into the living room where Frank and Jonno, Tony’s friends, were watching some horrid British reality TV show where a man chose a first date from a selection of completely nude women.

  Jess dismissed him with a flick of her hand. He could think it as ridiculous as he wanted, but she still had hope. She’d created him an enviable resume, inventing a ten year history of stage and screen work all over America. The headshots had turned out beautifully as well.

  When she filled out the application, it required her to select which minor part or understudy role in Dial M for Murder that Adam was supposedly auditioning for. After some thought, she decided on the understudy role of the main character (and villain), Tony Wendice. Tony Wendice was supposed to be a retired tennis player, and the actor who played him in the Hitchcock movie had been tall, lean and dark-haired. If they were casting to type, it was the role that fit Adam the closest physically. Also, Tyler Ryan, the Hollywood actor who’d already been cast in the actual Wendice role, was 6ꞌ2” with curly brown hair. She supposed it couldn’t hurt for the understudy to physically resemble the true lead.

  While she worked on this “nonsense,” Adam and Tony made other progress. They’d researched as much as they could find on the very private Webb. The director owned two properties in England, a grand townhome in Chelsea and an estate worth twelve million pounds in the Cotswolds. If they confirmed that Webb did own the Blue, the next wrinkle would be figuring out at which property he kept it. So far, they’d been unable to obtain blueprints of either one.

  They’d also learned a fair bit about the Noble Theatre. On Shaftesbury Avenue, the grand old theatre was originally built in 1907. It was hit by a German bomb in 1940 and renovated twenty years later. While Jess enjoyed the history and stories, Adam and Tony catalogued all the different ways in and out of the building and brainstormed on various ways they may be able to approach Katrina Webb on the day of the auditions.

  9:00. 9:05. 9:10.

  When the clock got to 9:15, Tony sighed and stood up, ending their vigil. He grabbed a couple of beers from the fridge and handed one to Jess. “It was a good thought, pretty girl.”

  Adam brought the pizza box to the counter and laughed at their glum faces before getting himself a beer. “You two should know better than to get hung up on long shots,” he lectured, pointing at them with his bottle. “Now, let’s get back to the real plan, shall we? We need something solid by the day after tomorrow, and right now our best option is a stakeout at all the theatre’s exits and a prayer that she walks somewhere by herself. I’m thinking the best idea is to—”

  His phone rang.

  Jess leaped to her feet and looked at the display. It was an unrecognizable London number. “Answer it! Answer it!” She thrust the phone at him. “Your actor name is Nathan Hale.” She’d chosen the name because Adam almost always used the names of revolutionaries for his covers.

  “Nathan Hale was hanged for spying on the British,” Adam hissed.

  Oops.

  Finally, he answered the telephone, the relaxed tone of voice a complete contrast to his wild eyes. “This is Nate.”

  For the next several minutes, all he said was a string of phrases like “That’s wonderful news” and “I’m honored to be considered” and finally “I’ll plan on being there all day. Thanks for the opportunity.”

  When he hung up, Jess and Tony jumped around the kitchen cheering. Frank and Jonno even tore their eyes away from the naked TV ladies to hoot their congratulations.

  Adam slumped onto a stool looking dazed. “I’m one of the finalists for the understudy of the Tony Wendice role. I’m supposed
to be at Noble Theatre at 9:00 am. Apparently, they’re going to have all the understudy candidates read with one another and possibly with the lead actors. Webb will be watching all day and eliminating candidates as he feels appropriate. At the end of day, the only people left at the theatre will be the actual cast: the actors and understudies.”

  Tony did a fist pump. “Perfect! You just need to survive long enough to have some interaction with Katrina Webb.”

  Adam looked at Jess. “I need a copy of the play. I know the story but I don’t know any of the dialogue or—”

  She put a calming arm on his shoulder. “Way ahead of you. I’ve got a paper copy in my bag and I just emailed you a digital version as well.” She reached into a cabinet and pulled out a bag of microwave popcorn. “I also have the movie version downloaded on my laptop. Shall we start there?”

  * * *

  When the credits came up, Jess straightened on the sofa and said, “I love classic movies, but this was never one of my favorites. I actually liked the remake they made of it in the late `90s better. Did you guys see that? The story was a little different. It was called A Perfect Murder.”

  Tony and Adam looked at her with identical expressions of horror. “The one with Gwyneth Paltrow?” Tony shook his head fiercely. “No offense, Jess, but there’s no comparison between Gwyneth Paltrow and Grace Kelly.”