Behind You!

by Linda Regan

Vincent Mann lifted his glasses and rubbed his eyes. He looked at Crowther, blinking nervously. Crowther gave the brewing row his full attention.

  ‘Leave it, brother.’ This was Alan McCormack. He winked at Stephen and raised his hands appealingly.

  ‘Leave it? Oh, I’ll fucking leave it all right. As soon as she leaves this family alone and stops pushing us about!’

  ‘It wasn’t meant personally, against you or your family,’ Barbara said to Fay. Vincent Mann covered his ears with his hands as she continued, ‘But I’m sure you can see as well as anyone else that Michael is upset, and best left alone.’

  ‘We didn’t take it personally, Miss Denis,’ Maggie said sarcastically. ‘We didn’t take it any way, actually, because we weren’t taking any notice.’ She leaned towards Fay and tapped her shoulder. ‘Go on, give Michael a cuddle.’

  Michael Hogan stood up. Crowther had the sense that everyone was holding their breath.

  ‘Actually, Barbara’s right, as it happens,’ Hogan said. ‘I would rather just be left alone.’ He turned and walked to the back of the stage.

  Stephen glared at Barbara. ‘Don’t fucking look like that!’ he growled.

  ‘Oh, for heaven’s sake,’ Barbara said. ‘Can’t you for once in your life show some sensitivity?’

  Crowther walked briskly on to the stage. ‘OK, that’s enough. If you’re going to start fighting and acting like children, that’s how you’ll be treated. From now on you’ll all sit in silence; anyone who speaks will be arrested for breach of the peace.’ He looked at everyone to be sure they knew he meant business, then walked back into the wings.

  Penny was handing the last of the costumes to a uniformed policeman. Crowther winked at her as she followed, and she smiled at him. It was almost worth having to work his holiday, Crowther thought.

  Michael Hogan called to Crowther. ‘I’ve some brandy and coffee in my office. I could go and make us all some.’

  ‘No can do, mate.’ Crowther raised his hand. ‘I have orders that no one is to be left on their own.’

  ‘Send one of your officers with me, then I won’t be on my own,’ Hogan suggested. ‘I’m sure a coffee and a nip of brandy will help keep everyone calm.’

  ‘I want to see her, and I have a right to know what happened,’ said Valerie Flint, tears flooding down her face.

  Alison took her hand. ‘I’m afraid that’s not possible yet. Is there anything I can do, anyone I can call for you?’

  Valerie shook her head. ‘There’s only Michael. He phoned me – I was doing my food shopping.’ She pulled free of Alison’s grasp and clutched the fingers of her other hand. Her facial resemblance to Sophie was uncanny, and they were the same height; but Valerie was stocky whereas Sophie was slightly built. They had the same natural white-blonde hair, but Valerie’s had an old-fashioned pink rinse and was slightly bouffant, like the young Dusty Springfield’s. The closest similarity was the eyes; there was no mistaking them.They were as small and sharp as her daughter’s, and the same shade of indigo. She turned them on Banham. ‘At least tell me what happened.’

  Banham couldn’t answer. He looked at her helplessly for a moment, then stood up and walked over to the stage. Alison watched him climb the stairs at the side and disappear into the wings.

  ‘We’re trying to find out what happened,’ Alison told Valerie, one ear picking up Banham, shouting at Crowther to call the family liaison unit and get someone down to the theatre immediately. ‘Will you help us, and answer some questions?’ she asked.

  ‘Is there any chance she may still be alive?’ Valerie asked tearfully.

  ‘No, I’m afraid not.’ Alison spoke quietly.

  ‘How did she die?’ Valerie asked.

  Alison swallowed hard. It was always difficult, breaking this kind of news. ‘Her throat was cut,’ she said. ‘I’m very sorry.’

  Banham came back into the auditorium and quietly settled three seats away from Valerie.

  ‘We need to find the person that did it,’ Alison told her. ‘Will you help us?’

  Valerie nodded, sitting up and wiping her face.

  ‘You were married to Michael Hogan, weren’t you?’ Alison asked.

  ‘Yes.’

  As if on cue, Hogan walked through the pass door, carrying a tray of freshly brewed coffee, three plastic cups and a miniature bottle of brandy. ‘This is for Val,’ he said.

  Banham’s face darkened. He stood up, banging the seat, and strode towards the stage. Leaning over the tray until his face was less than two inches away from Michael’s, he said threateningly, ‘I told you to stay on the stage. If you disobey my orders once more, I’ll lock you up for obstructing a murder enquiry. Do I make myself clear?’

  The colour drained from Hogan’s face as Banham drew back and yelled into the wings, ‘Crowther, take Mr Hogan back to the others, and don’t let him out of your sight.’

  ‘Valerie was my wife,’ Hogan argued. ‘She needs me.’

  ‘Go,’ Banham said pushing the tray. The jug of scalding coffee wobbled dangerously.

  He went.

  ‘Don’t be hard on him,’ Valerie said as Banham sat down again. ‘I’m sure he’s hurting a lot too. He always acts before he thinks, and he so loved Sophie.’

  ‘How long had Sophie been living away from home?’ Alison asked her.

  ‘She left home when she was fifteen. She didn’t have to, but she wanted her own space. She was always very grown-up.’

  ‘What about boyfriends? Was there anyone in particular?’

  Valerie shook her head. ‘She wasn’t interested in boys. Surprising, I know, because she’s … she was … so pretty …’ A sad smile spread across her face. ‘The truth is, we didn’t get on too well. She didn’t tell me her secrets. When she was a little girl she used to write them all down in a diary. We were never close.’ She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. ‘Her life was dancing. And when there was no dancing, she worked with Michael. He treated her like a princess.’ Valerie looked at Banham. ‘This is going to crucify him. He loved her so much.’

  ‘How long had she been working for Michael?’ Banham asked.

  ‘All her life. She was a dancing babe. I suppose it was in her blood – I was a dancer too. That’s how I met Michael. Sophie was only two, and I was in his production of Cinderella. I’d just got back into shape after having her, and I used to take her to the theatre with me – there was always someone backstage to keep an eye on her. Michael and I fell in love, and we married soon after.’ The smile left her face. ‘It didn’t last long, but that’s Michael. No woman lasts with him.’

  There was a brief pause, then Banham asked her, ‘Did Sophie have any enemies in this show?’

  ‘Did she have any friends, more like?’ Valerie’s voice was steely.

  ‘You mean everyone disliked her?’

  ‘This is a jealousy-ridden profession. She choreographed the show and she was very good at her job.’ She lifted her hands in a resigned gesture. Alison noticed she wore no jewellery but her nails were well-manicured and painted white. She felt a little ashamed of her own reddened, neglected hands and short, unkempt nails.

  ‘I don’t know about that Vincent Mann,’ Valerie said. ‘I only met him on the opening night. He was in a corner, whispering with that poor girl Lucinda. I went over and introduced myself. He was a bit stand-offish, I thought. I couldn’t believe it when I opened the paper this morning.’ She paused, then continued, ‘I rang Sophie straight away.’ She fished in her pocket and brought out a white handkerchief decorated with embroidered flowers. ‘I’m sorry.’ She wiped her already tearstained face with the hanky. ‘I’m glad now I spoke to her. As I said, we don’t speak very often.’ Valerie turned to Alison. ‘Sophie said it was a mistake. ‘Who would want to kill Lucinda?’ That’s what she said. She said the line-up had gone wrong, and Lucinda was standing where Barbara should have been.’

  Banham stroked his mouth thoughtfully. ‘So did anyone hate Barbara enough to want to kill her?’

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p; Valerie looked at him as if he had dropped from another planet. ‘Every one of them. She’s a cow of the first degree.’ She sighed. ‘Stephen Coombs nearly did her some damage a few years ago. Irish gypsies, that family, and a law unto themselves.’

  Banham was puzzled. ‘What family?’ he asked.

  ‘The McCormacks. Stephen’s real name is McCormack – he and Alan are brothers. Maggie’s married to Alan, and Fay is their daughter.’ She paused briefly before adding, ‘And Maggie’s a slag. That’s common knowledge.’

  Alison began to make notes.

  ‘She broke my marriage up,’ Valerie continued. ‘She seduced Michael, and she was pregnant with Fay at the time. I tried to forgive him, and we stayed together for a while, but …’ She gazed into the distance for a few moments, then shook her head and looked at Banham.

  As usual Banham’s face gave nothing away. Valerie continued, ‘Michael’s weak; he got sucked in. He didn’t really want her, but he’s like any man: he’ll take it if it’s there.’

  ‘Did Alan know?’ Banham asked.

  ‘He found out, but he’s Catholic and they don’t believe in divorce. He couldn’t handle it. So now the poor man’s an alcoholic.’

  ‘Who’s Fay’s father?’ Banham asked.

  ‘Not Michael, if that’s what you’re thinking,’ Valerie said quickly. ‘You only have to look at Fay to know she’s gyppo too. Oh, Alan’s her father all right. Michael would have told me if he’d fathered a child.’

  Alison lowered her gaze.

  ‘How did Fay get on with Sophie?’ Banham asked.

  ‘Fay’s jealous of her, always has been. They were dancing juves together. But unlike my Sophie, she wasn’t born to dance, and it shows.’

  Valerie reminded Alison of the ballet school mothers she had known: ambitious for their own children, trying to push them to the front when half of the children didn’t want to be there at all. Alison certainly hadn’t.

  ‘Is there still friction between them?’ Banham asked.

  ‘It’s the mother that’s the problem, not Fay.’

  ‘Maggie?’

  Valerie nodded. ‘I was a dancer, but you wouldn’t hear me shoot my mouth off like her. She goes on as if she knows it all.’ Her mouth twisted into a sneer. ‘She knows nothing – she just resents my Sophie because Michael loves her so much.’ She looked at Banham. ‘You’re a father, I’m sure, Inspector; you’d understand. Do you have a daughter?’

  The silence was like a solid wall. Alison held her breath.

  Banham wrapped his arms round his chest.

  ‘No,’ he said quietly. ‘I don’t.’

  Alison let out her breath. A tricky moment, but he had coped. When his mind was on a case, there was no better detective. She swiftly changed the subject. ‘Barbara Denis must have resented that too?’

  ‘Barbara is a sad woman trying to hang on to her youth. She’s childless because there’s no room in her world for anyone but herself. She picks on everyone for the tiniest mistake, and everyone hates working with her.’ She sighed heavily. ‘But Michael always stands up for her. He’s a weak man, and naïve. He says she’s a perfectionist and just wants the best for the show; the truth is she’s a selfish cow, and wants everything to revolve around her.’

  ‘Do you think she’s capable of murder?’ Alison asked.

  ‘She’s evil enough to do anything, that one.’

  ‘When was it that Stephen Coombs attacked her?’ Banham asked.

  ‘I’m not sure exactly. Many years ago.’

  ‘Do you know why?’

  ‘Yes I do, as a matter of fact.’ Valerie looked from Alison to Banham. ‘She was blackmailing Michael. He had an affair with an underage dancer, and she found out.’

  Banham shifted in his seat and waited for her to continue.

  ‘I’m quite sure he didn’t know the girl was underage,’ Valerie said. ‘He wouldn’t do anything to make Sophie think badly of him. He was like a father to her – he legally adopted her less than a year after we married.’

  She screwed her face up in thought and put a finger to her temple. ‘It happened after his marriage to me broke up, so a long time after his marriage to Barbara. She blackmailed him into giving her good roles and top billing.’ Her mouth curved down again. ‘Well, she was never going to get either on talent. Throwing her weight around didn’t get her anywhere, though. She wanted Alan sacked for drinking, but I told you why Michael wouldn’t give in on that one. Then Stephen found out, there was a hell of a row and it ended with Stephen attacking Barbara.’

  ‘Were the police called?’

  ‘God, no. No one would have wanted that.’

  ‘How was Sophie with Stephen?’ Banham asked.

  Valerie pressed her lips together. ‘She stayed out of his way, kept him out of dance numbers. He can’t dance anyway. But she knew he had a vicious streak – she’s a clever girl.’ She stopped suddenly and shook her head violently like a dog coming out of a pool. ‘Please tell me I’m dreaming.’

  ‘Can I get you some water?’ Alison asked quietly.

  ‘No.’ She took several deep breaths then looked across at Banham. ‘Let’s get this over with.’

  ‘If you’re sure …’

  ‘I’m sure. Carry on.’

  ‘OK,’ Banham said. ‘Going back to Lucinda Benson: would you know if she was having an affair with Michael?’

  Valerie put her hands in the air. ‘No, of course she wasn’t. He wouldn’t take advantage of a young girl who wanted to break into showbusiness. He’s not like that.’

  ‘One last question,’ Banham said. ‘Was Sophie short-sighted, Mrs Flint?’

  ‘Yes. We both are. She wears contact lenses, and never takes them out. She doesn’t miss anything if the dancers go wrong on stage.’

  ‘Mrs Flint, you’ve been very helpful.’ Banham stood up. ‘Thank you very much.’ Alison made to get up too, but he waved her back into her seat. ‘My sergeant will stay with you until an officer comes to take you home. We’ll be in touch again soon.’

  ‘Thank you, but I want to wait until Michael is free.’

  Banham nodded agreement and headed for the stage. As he walked through the pass door into the corridor DC Crowther approached him. ‘Guv, can I have a word?’

  Banham glanced at the stage to check Michael Hogan was back there.

  ‘Something’s just come to my notice, guv,’ Crowther said, keeping his voice low.

  ‘Go on.’

  ‘Penny has taken all the suspects’ clothes to the lab for testing. She’ll do it in the next couple of hours.’

  ‘Is that it?’ Banham was irritated with Crowther. The young DC never missed an opportunity to point out that it was his influence that had made Penny Starr give up her holiday. But something more pressing was on his mind at the moment. ‘What I want to know is, who gave Michael Hogan permission to wander around the backstage area?’ he asked crisply.

  ‘I’m sorry, guv.’ Crowther still spoke with the confidence of a detective superintendent. ‘He wasn’t alone; I sent one of the uniforms with him. He only went to make coffee, in the upstairs area which is cordon free.’

  ‘I said no one was to leave the stage,’ Banham said, looking the lad in the eye.

  ‘Won’t happen again, guv.’

  ‘It better not.’

  ‘Um, Stephen Coombs, guv,’ Crowther went on, a little chastened. ‘We’ve taken a bright pink and yellow outfit from him to send away to forensics for testing, with a matching hat and stockings and gloves …’

  Banham recalled it. ‘He changed into that after Sophie’s last scene.’ He thought for a second. ‘What about the red and white old-fashioned bathing costume he was wearing in the underwater scene? That’ll be in his dressing room. Send that over too.’

  ‘That’s what I’m trying to tell you, guv,’ Crowther said urgently. ‘It isn’t there, and no one can find it. I’ve got uniform looking, but it seems to have disappeared.’

  ‘You didn’t ask Coombs where it was?�
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  ‘No. After I realised it was missing, I decided to say nothing till I spoke to you, guv.’

  Banham rubbed his mouth and looked over at the spiral staircase at the side of the stage. ‘How certain are you that no one went down that staircase while the dancers were on stage?’

  Crowther looked like a schoolboy caught in the tuck-shop out of hours. He hoisted at the waistband of his droopy jeans. ‘I was standing in that groove.’ He nodded towards the edge of the stage. ‘By that big lump of scenery.’

  Banham’s face hardened. ‘Watching the girls,’ he said flatly.

  ‘Guv, I couldn’t put my hand on my heart and swear nothing could have gone unnoticed behind me.’

  Banham stared at him, too angry to speak. The lad had cocked up badly this time; if his attention hadn’t wandered the second murder might not have happened. Banham wasn’t about to let him off the hook.

  ‘I’m really sorry, guv.’ For once, Crowther sounded sincerely penitent. ‘But never in a million years did I think that someone might be underneath the stage committing murder.’

  Banham looked round the wings, where Crowther was supposed to be positioned for security purposes. ‘I hope for your sake that no one did creep past you,’ he said, making no attempt to hide his anger. ‘There were four of us on duty and a murder still took place. If any of us could have prevented it …’

  ‘I’m pretty sure I would have noticed, guv. It just wouldn’t be true if I said I’m certain.’

  ‘Pretty sure isn’t good enough.’ Banham spoke in a low voice; all the suspects were in hearing distance. ‘If important evidence is lost because you can’t keep it in your trousers, you can expect to find yourself in front of the DS on a disciplinary charge.’

  Colin Crowther looked devastated. ‘Guv, Alan McCormack was in the corner. He would have seen anyone coming or going.’

  ‘He walked off the stage and went to the pub! You didn’t notice that either?’

  Crowther sounded increasingly desperate. ‘I did, guv! He was hardly gone a minute. I saw him come back in too. He was back at his desk by the time the girls had started dancing. I’ve had a word with the work experience boys, too – they were pushing the big palace scenery on at the back. They say they did see Stephen Coombs squeeze around the back of the set, but they couldn’t say how long after Sophie’s entrance.’