‘And so they are,’ Giles expressed exuberantly. ‘They can be used in several different ways by having them dressed in exactly the same costumes. For example one could exit by one door and the other could reappear immediately from a door on the opposite side of the stage.’ Giles thought for a moment. ‘Even more eerie would be if one should exit by the French windows with the speedy reappearance of the other from the auditorium. Now that would really be the magician’s dream.’
‘You said the identical twins could be used in several different ways,’ Walter reminded Giles with a questioning look on his face and his eyebrows raised. ‘Can you give us one more example without the boys wearing the same outfits?’
‘Indeed I can. In the scene, where one of the brothers is shot by Cindy, if the body is declared dead and removed from the room, when actually it should rightly have been left until the police arrived, but then is seen gliding into the room shortly afterwards through closed French windows, that would certainly give the girl the shivers.’
The two co-playwrights were now the ones who seemed to be in a daze. ‘You see,’ Giles reiterated with gusto. ‘To the magician nothing is impossible!’
The spontaneous roar of appreciable laughter by the cast brought the playwrights to their feet and they crossed over to Giles and shook him by the hand without a single word being spoken. The handshakes were all that was necessary for Giles’ illusions to be given full approval. He looked around for Laura to get her reaction to what had ensued but was instantly reminded that she had left earlier due to Walter’s outrageous outburst.
As the hubbub of praise died down and the reading of the crucial final Act continued Giles made every endeavour to concentrate on the lines being spoken and the way they were delivered as he put his head down and studied the script. He wanted to be sure he didn’t miss any opportunity where he could produce an illusion that would heighten the tension. There were times when he was distracted. Although each actor’s performance gave the essential mannerisms in conjunction with the stage directions there were distinctive moments when he could sense a marked hostility between them. Was it a hostility that could lead to something sinister he wondered? Something that wasn’t in the script? He shrugged his shoulders. His mind was playing trick on him again.
Midway through the third and final Act Giles was instantly alerted by what he read in the script. It was as if he was being forewarned to pay vigilant attention to how the action developed and to assess the actors’ reaction as the script unfolded.
(It is late afternoon on the same day. Cindy is alone in the room dusting the tables and arranging vases of flowers. Enter the two step-sons laughing. One of them approaches Cindy and smacks her resoundingly. Cindy recoils)
DICKY:
Get a move on and fetch us two cold beers from the fridge you tasty piece of goods. (Cindy scurries off towards the kitchen door. As she leaves, the boys collapse on the sofa Down Left sniggering)
CYRIL:
Make sure it’s ice cold. (He yells after her) Cause I’m parched with the hots for you and there’s no knowing what I could get up to. (Hoots of laughter by both boys. They roll about chortling and jostling with each other. Cindy returns with two jugs of frothy beer)
CYRIL:
What the hell do you call this? (He drinks from the jug ending up with froth all over his mouth) Can’t you even pour a pint of beer properly? I bet you did this just to rile me. Playing hard to get now are you? I know your sort. Come here! I’ll give you a frothy kiss. (Wiping a little of the froth from his mouth with the back of his hand)
DICKY:
(Getting up from the sofa Down Left) Hang on a bit. Don’t you think we should toss to see who gets her first?
CINDY:
(Fighting back for the first time) How dare you! How dare you!
CYRIL:
Come on, don’t pretend. You’re just asking for it aren’t you my lady?
(Forcing himself on her and kissing her ferociously on the mouth. Cindy, her mouth slightly open, bites him hard)
CYRIL:
(Yelping in a fit of anger and holding his mouth) You little tart. You sank your teeth into me. (He throws her from him and Dicky catches her round the waist)
DICKY:
Bit of a tiger aren’t you? Showing your true colours. Not the little mouse we thought you were! (He points a finger at his brother) Got your comeuppance there old man (Laughing outrageously) Let me show you how it’s done.
(Grizelda enters from door Right)
GRIZELDA:
You two squabbling again? (She notices a trickle of blood on Cyril’s mouth) Little brat! (She shouts in a high pitched voice) Get into the kitchen this minute and stay there till you learn more manners.
(End of Scene)
The script continued in the same vein and Giles was immersed by the build up to one of the climactic scenes where his illusion of The Artist’s Dream would bring the Fairy Godmother into her speaking role. This Act was the one where he would present the brilliant illusion. He read on.
(Later that same evening. Lights are low and stage is empty. Cindy creeps in from kitchen door and curls up on sofa. Fairy Godmother enters from French Windows and approaches Cindy)
At that point Mark stopped proceedings once more to mention the change with the illusion bringing the Fairy Godmother out of the portrait to speak to her daughter.
FAIRY GODMOTHER:
My dear Cindy now is the moment you must turn and fight back. I cannot bear to think of you being so persecuted and abused by these brutal uncouth louts. I can help you even if your father is powerless to do so.
(Cindy sits upright in wonderment)
FAIRY GODMOTHER:
Your father had a gun hidden away and I can tell you where it is. (Fairy Godmother comes to Cindy and whispers in her ear) Take the little gun and if these villainous boys make future advances don’t hesitate to protect yourself. Even shoot if you have to. Any court in the land would acquit you if you kill. (She exits by kitchen door)
Once again Mark emphasised the alteration in the stage direction and assured Jane that, as the Fairy Godmother, she would return to the painting by way of the magician’s skill.
‘For goodness sake let’s get a move on,’ said Walter, looking at his watch again. ‘Start saying your lines and I want some expression in those voices.’
Giles looked down at his script once more. After exit by Fairy Godmother Giles read on as he listened to the lines being spoken.
(Cindy goes over to bookcase, switches on the table lamp and picks a book from the shelf. She opens the book to find it hollow inside with a tiny gun enclosed. She takes the gun and secretes it in her clothing then switches the lamp off. Step-sons enter down Right)
CYRIL:
Still here my poor little beauty? Gagging for it aren’t you?
DICKY:
She wouldn’t still be here otherwise would she? Come to Dicky. I’ll soon tame you my little wench.
CYRIL:
(Bragging) Now that’s very interesting. (Cindy lowers her head) Look at me when I’m talking to you. (Raising his voice and looking threatening)
CINDY:
(Shaking with fear and abruptly facing him) If you take one step nearer I’ll kill you.
CYRIL
(Sniggering) Hmm! Got some spirit have we? I like that in a woman. And how do you propose to kill me little one? (Sneering) Got a pistol in your bra?
(Starts to close in on Cindy)
(Shot is fired and Cyril reels back and falls clumsily to the floor. Cindy is seen with gun in her hand. Dicky kneels down to assist brother. Grizelda and Brigadier enter down Right)
The loud bang as Walter suddenly thumped his fist once more on the table was like the gunshot and brought everything to a halt. ‘That is where your tuition of Cindy’s slight of hand comes into play.’ he said pointing a finger at Giles. ‘She must be able to produce the gun as if out of thin air.’
‘No problem, I assure you.’ said Giles.
‘Good, we’re making progress,’ said Mark. He snarled approvingly at the cast then turned to Cyril. ‘But do try to die a little more realistically – you looked as if you’d just tripped over the cat, rather than been shot!’
Cyril shrugged his shoulders. ‘It’ll be alright on the night, Mark, never fear.’
‘It will be alright every night, Cyril,’ snapped Mark. ‘Good actors are never sloppy and we know you are a good actor. So shape up!’
The remainder of the Act was enacted by the cast as they read the script and when all the players and producers had left to return home Giles completed his notes and was looking forward to the next few weeks when he’d be devising and, with Laura’s help, perfecting the Artist’s Dream illusion for presentation at her mother’s birthday celebration on the 31st of October. That was unquestionably going to be the ultimate example of the stage magician’s artistry. This illusion, he thought closing his eyes and smiling, will certainly convince the two producers of The Cinderella Murders that, as a magician, nothing is impossible.
Chapter 8
THEATRE OF GHOSTS
The days and nights prior to the last day of October, 1967 were occupied by Giles as he spent most of the time in the basement of Maskelyne Hall preparing several of the illusions he’d suggest for the stage play. The most important illusion was the one to be shown at Hallowe’en in the presence of Mark Armstrong and Walter Bradley. For that he was going to use the oil painting that was hanging between the two windows to the left of the fireplace in the library. When he had first seen the portrait on his return to the Hall to solve the death of Laura’s father, Giles had thought it was a portrait of Laura. It wasn’t – it was a portrait of Laura’s mother painted when she had been a dancer in Vaudeville in the 1920s. The painting was a portrait of a female dancer in a Spanish costume of scarlet and vermillion against a sandy background. In her left hand the dancer carried a fan and in her other hand she held a dagger. With Laura dressed in a costume similar to that in the painting Giles knew the effect would be spellbinding. If the illusion was introduced into the last Act of The Cinderella Murders the audience would be enthralled when the Fairy Godmother left the portrait to advise her daughter and tell her where to find the Brigadier’s gun.
On the morning of the last day in October Giles and Laura were hard at work making sure everything was in place for the presentation.
As the evening drew near the two playwrights arrived for the birthday dinner and were eagerly awaiting their first introduction to the magical wizardry of the professor of stage illusions. The three course meal was enough to whet their appetite and conversation centred on what was in store.
Before his death, Laura’s father, Jack Ramsden, demonstrated his magical skills as a designer and illusionist with a special magic trick to celebrate his wife’s birthday each year. It was now the turn of Giles to continue the yearly ritual but on this occasion the performance had a dual purpose. Not only to entertain the mother but to give the authors of a new play an opportunity to witness, at first hand, an illusion that would add a spectacular effect to their stage production.
When everyone was seated in the library with the lights dimmed Giles made his announcement.
‘What you see is a replica set of what I suggest you should have on stage.’ He pressed a switch and a spotlight came on to illuminate the portrait of the lady in the scarlet and vermillion dress.
‘Is Laura not going to watch this presentation?’ asked Mark, ‘I don’t see her in the room.’
‘She’ll be here in good time for the illusion to unfold,’ Giles said. ‘I think you may be pleasantly surprised when she appears.’
Silence pervaded the room as Giles started to set the scene for the illusion. ‘On your darkened stage the leading lady Cindy is asleep on the sofa,’ Giles said, his deep but softly spoken voice reminiscent of the storyteller in the Appointment with Fear radio programme of the late 1940s. ‘The room you are in has the lights turned low to deputise for your stage but here the roles are reversed. Instead of Cindy asleep on the sofa I have placed Laura’s mother, Isabella, on the sofa to the left. To the far left is the portrait of a girl in a Spanish costume lit only by the gentle rays from a spotlight. Please watch closely.’
For several seconds nothing happened and then the portrait appeared to move. The figure seemed to leave the canvas and start to glide over towards the sofa. The framed canvas was empty and the girl in the Spanish dress began to speak her lines.
‘My dear daughter, I’ve kept a close watch on you for some time now from my canvas and I think it is time to give you some helpful advice.’ The voice was clearly that of Laura’s. She was wearing a scarlet and vermillion dress as in the painting and she carried a fan in one hand and a stiletto dagger in the other.
You could hear a pin drop in the room as the vision continued to speak the lines of the Fairy Godmother. Finally she mentioned the gun her husband the Brigadier had hidden and why Cindy should retrieve the weapon in order to counteract the sadistic intentions of the two step sons. She then bent over the sitting figure of Isabella as if whispering in her ear before retreating back towards the empty canvas until the oil painting appeared restored.
The lights were switched on again by Giles and the two playwrights, shaking their heads in disbelief, started to applaud.
‘Absolutely brilliant,’ Mark said enthusiastically as he got up from his seat and came over to shake hands with Giles. ‘That will have an audience enthralled as Walter and I have been tonight. But how on earth was it done?’
‘That, I’m afraid, will have to remain a secret,’ Giles said going over to the library door. He opened the door and Laura came into the room dressed as she had been at dinner.
‘Another extension to your miraculous illusion, Giles,’ Walter said as he clasped Laura’s hands. ‘And you delivered the Fairy Godmother’s lines like a real pro.’
‘I’m glad you consider this illusion to be suitable for inclusion in your play, Walter, but Giles and I are anxious to know if you have been able to acquire the use of a theatre for a prolonged period to stage your rehearsals.’
‘I’m afraid we’ve come up with a blank,’ Mark replied glumly.
‘You could say it’s been tragically similar to the gun Cindy will fire on stage,’ Mark observed tongue-in-cheek. ‘We’ve tried several theatres in Carlisle, Newcastle and Manchester without success. ‘But am I right in thinking that you might be able to help us, Laura?’
‘You might be in luck,’ Laura answered promptly. ‘But you might also have to wait some time.’
‘Tell us more please and we’ll decide if what you say can be of help.’ Walter pleaded anxiously.
‘The theatre I have in mind is in Dumfries,’ said Laura. ‘The main problem being that they will probably be in the midst of their winter season and you might have to wait until that is over.’
‘I wasn’t aware that Dumfries had a theatre,’ Mark observed expectantly.
‘Dumfries has the Theatre Royal which is the oldest working theatre in Scotland,’ Laura said confidently. ‘It’s now owned by the Guild of Players and I know they occasionally release the use of their stage to visiting companies.’
‘That sounds very promising. Do you honestly believe we might have a chance of meeting some of the Guild of Players?’
‘I’m sure they’ll be delighted to assist another group of performers. I’ll have a word with the top brass in the Guild and arrange for you and Walter to have a visit to the theatre. I can then let you know when it’s convenient for you to meet with them and discuss arrangements.’
‘Splendid!’ an enthusiastic Walter exclaimed. ‘The Hallowe’en witches have been kind to us tonight. First the Artist’s Dream and now the search for a theatre could be over.’
‘Please don’t get carried away just yet. A lot might depend on their current productions and how long you have to wait for a suitable opportunity.’
‘That’s true,’ Mark agreed. ‘We cannot count our chickens. T
here’s so much to be done but we’re indebted to you and Giles for getting us this far.’
As Mark and Walter said goodbye to return to their homes after a dramatic evening Laura was quite optimistic.
‘Leave things with me,’ she said, ‘and I’ll get back to you the moment I have any news for you. Both Giles and I will make every attempt to boost the chances of your play being a success.’
Doreen had already stoked the fire in the lounge and had escorted Isabella upstairs to bed when Laura and Giles returned from locking the front door. Laura poured two gin and tonics and Giles, with legs stretched out and hands clasped behind his neck, relaxed on the couch looking perfectly satisfied with the evening performance.
‘What did you make of our two guests?’ said Giles as he sat up, unclasped his hands and took the crystal glass from Laura.
‘They’re poles apart,’ Laura said as she sat down. ‘I rather thought Walter Bradley is the kind of guy who’ll take all the plaudits when thing go well but will not accept responsibility when everything goes pear-shaped.’
‘Perhaps that’s why he doesn’t want his name credited as co-author,’ Giles said, his brow creasing in puzzlement. ‘I wondered about that. He certainly needs taken down a peg.’
‘I don’t like the man,’ said Laura, taking her glass up to her lips and having a sip. ‘He’s ill-mannered, bad tempered and insolent. I feel rather sorry for Mark having to put up with him and we don’t want to let him down. He has enough to worry about with all this nonsense about a curse.’
The Cinderella Murders Page 6
