Murder Dancing (11 page)

‘Company manager?' asked Ian.

‘Stan Willis,' said Libby. ‘He's also the stage manager and the victim of the Kabuki curtain assault.'

‘Surely he will be in favour of going to the police?' said Ian.

‘I should think so,' said Ben. ‘He was certain someone was out to kill him after the attack.'

‘Oh? What did he say?' asked Ian.

‘I don't remember exactly, but it was sort of “They'll get me next time, you see if they don't”. None of us took it seriously.'

‘Hmmm,' said Ian, more thoughtful than ever. ‘That sounds as though he believed it was definitely an attack on him, doesn't it?'

‘I'll ask him,' said Max with resignation. ‘He's staying here, as I am, so I'll knock on his door when I go up.'

‘He isn't in the bar with the others?' said Libby.

‘No. Damian and Seb are there, but they said Stan had gone up.'

Libby explained to Ian who Sebastian and Damian were in case Ian had got muddled with all the names.

Max stood up. ‘I'll go up, then. I'll be in touch tomorrow.' He nodded at Ian, smiled sadly at Libby and Ben and went towards the stairs.

Ben stood up. ‘I'll go and fetch the girls, shall I?'

‘Yes, please. They've still got drinks to finish,' said Libby.

‘Well?' she said to Ian when Ben had gone. ‘What do you think? Storm in a teacup?'

‘I think it's more dangerous than that,' said Ian. ‘If your friend Max won't report it formally I shall force his hand. I'm not sure I shouldn't also force him to cancel the production.'

‘Oh, Ian, no!' gasped Libby. ‘All that work!'

‘And suppose something worse happens?' said Ian.

‘What if it has?' said Ben, appearing behind them. ‘Stan isn't in his bedroom. And it's been ransacked.'

Chapter Eleven

Ian was out of his seat so fast he was at the door before Libby could even stand up.

‘What?' she said to Ben.

‘When I got into the hall Max was practically falling down the stairs. I left him there and came to get Ian. I don't know any more than that.'

‘Oh, bloody hell.' Libby shook her head. ‘Why was Max nearly falling down the stairs?'

‘He's got the wind up. He was worried by Ian's attitude.' Ben sat down. ‘He was trying not to think any of it was really serious and he's realised he can't ignore it any more.'

‘You never made it to collect the girls,' said Libby after a moment. ‘I'll go and get them.'

Ben nodded and Libby left the pub, avoiding the reception area.

Harry and Peter were sitting with Anne and Patti in the left-hand window, the one with the comfortable sofa and chairs, a bottle between them on the coffee table. Libby quickly told them what had happened.

‘I came to fetch you,' she said at last. ‘You left drinks on the table.'

‘I think we'd be better keeping out of the way,' said Patti. ‘Harry's treated us to the wine, so we're quite happy.'

Just then, the door opened and Ben stuck his head round.

‘Pete, Hal, could you come and give us a hand?'

‘What's happened?' Peter stood up.

‘Ian's worried about Stan, and as we can't raise him on his phone, he wants to go and look for him. I'll have to open the theatre in case he went back there, and Ian thinks we should have a look round outside. He doesn't want the dance crowd involved.'

‘That makes sense,' said Libby, but with a sense of foreboding. ‘Shall we stay here?'

‘Yes.' Ben came and patted her on the shoulder. ‘You'd only get plagued by the company if you went back to the pub.'

The men left and Patti, Anne and Libby sat and looked at each other.

‘What shall we do now?' said Anne. ‘I feel useless just sitting here.'

‘I think Ian's over-reacting,' said Libby. ‘He's making much more of it than the rest of us did. I don't know why he's so worried.'

‘He's a lot more experienced than any of us,' said Patti. ‘He must have spotted something that got past the rest of you.'

‘Or perhaps he knows something we don't,' said Anne. ‘Or rather, you don't.' She shifted impatiently in her chair. ‘I feel so useless.'

‘You've already said that,' said Patti. ‘There's nothing we can do anyway. And we don't know any of the people concerned.'

Anne smiled. ‘I know. I'm just over-reacting to the situation like Ian. I think I tend to dramatise things because I can't do anything about them.'

Libby looked at her with sympathy. ‘I think I know what you mean. But I can't think anything's really happened. Far more likely that Stan stayed behind at the theatre to fiddle about with the set or something. Or even check his accounts. Oh, I don't know.' She picked up the wine bottle. ‘Do you think I could have a glass of this?'

‘Course you can. Shall I get you a glass?' said Patti.

‘No, I'll go.' Libby went over to the counter and found a glass. Patti poured them all more wine and they settled down in silence to wait.

‘But his room was ransacked,' said Anne suddenly. ‘That's serious.'

‘But was it, though?' said Libby. ‘He could just be very untidy. Remember that TV ad about the boy who was left home alone and his friend thought he'd been burgled?'

‘But Ian must have had a look at it now,' said Patti, ‘and he'd know the difference.'

Libby nodded gloomily and sighed into her drink. ‘I sometimes think I've got some kind of reverse Midas touch. Whenever I go near anything or anybody …' she trailed off.

Patti looked at her fondly. ‘You go near people because they ask you to,' she said. ‘I asked you for help when I first met you, didn't I?'

‘It wasn't you actually,' said Libby. ‘It was my dippy friend Alice.'

‘So it was. But look how you helped in that affair.'

‘I think I made it worse,' said Libby.

Anne laughed. ‘She's determined to be the Harbinger of Doom, Pats, whatever you say.'

Libby grinned reluctantly. ‘Sorry.'

The interior of the café was suddenly illuminated by blue flashing lights. Libby's heart thumped and she stood up unsteadily.

Patti surreptitiously crossed herself and went to the door. ‘They've gone up the Manor drive,' she reported. ‘And here comes Harry.'

Harry came into the restaurant looking white and sick.

‘They found him,' he said, and sat down abruptly on the chair opposite the sofa.

‘Have some wine,' said Libby, offering her own glass. Harry took it in a shaking hand and downed half of it. The three women looked at each other, not liking to ask the question.

‘Where?' asked Libby eventually.

Harry let out a gusty sigh. ‘On the stage.'

‘The
stage
?' echoed three voices.

‘It looked like an accident.' He topped up the glass and realised Libby hadn't got one. ‘Get another bottle and glass, Lib.'

‘I think I've had enough,' said Libby. ‘Go on. The stage, you said?'

‘He'd fallen off a ladder. The scaffolding was still assembled in the scenery dock, and he'd just detached the main ladder. Silly sod. If he'd used the scaffolding, he wouldn't have fallen.'

Anne held up a hand. ‘Scuse me, but what scaffolding? Have you been painting the outside?'

‘No, it's stage scaffolding,' said Libby. ‘It has different platforms and is used for reaching the lighting barrels, painting – all sorts of things. It all comes apart and can be assembled differently – like Meccano.'

Anne looked puzzled, but Patti nodded.

‘So he used a ladder and fell off it,' said Libby. ‘Why?'

‘Ian guessed he was looking at the Kabuki.'

‘I explained that to you, didn't I?' Libby said to the other two, who nodded. ‘So it has nothing to do with the ransacked room?'

‘I don't know. As soon as they – Ben and Ian, that was – found him, Ian shooed us off. He'd already called for assistance to check the bedroom and Pete and I diverted them up to the theatre. We're to stay put for the time being.'

‘Where's Peter now?' asked Patti.

‘He went to tell them at the pub. They'll have to seal the room off, now. Poor old Seb will have to bunk down somewhere else.'

Peter pushed the door open.

‘Ian had already sent the second police car to the pub, so they knew something was up.' He sat down heavily. ‘None of them seemed to be able to take it in, though.'

‘What about Max?' asked Libby.

‘He was still sitting on the stairs. I didn't speak to him.'

‘What do we do now?' asked Harry.

‘Stay here, I suppose,' said Peter. ‘You could go home, girls.'

For once not commenting on his use of ‘girls', Libby nodded. ‘You go, Patti, Anne. I'll stay here with Hal and Pete for a bit.'

Looking relieved, Patti and Anne left.

‘Why do you think Ben's still up at the theatre?' Libby said, when Harry had closed the door behind them.

‘He'll have to show them round, won't he,' said Peter. ‘I hope they've let him go across and tell Hetty.'

‘She's not going to be happy, is she?' said Harry.

‘No.' Libby sighed. ‘I mean, we've had murders connected with the theatre before, but never actually in it. I suppose he was sure it was murder?'

‘Seemed to be, but I couldn't really see. He wouldn't let any of us go near the stage, not even Ben.'

Libby's phone began to warble inside the large bag which had replaced her basket.

‘Ben,' said Libby, looking at the screen.

‘Libby, it's me. Listen, could you come up to the Manor and sit with Hetty? She came out to find out what was going on, and although she didn't say much, you know her, I could see she was upset.'

‘Of course,' said Libby. ‘We were just talking about that. I'm on my way.'

At the same time as Ben said, ‘Not on your own!' Peter and Harry said together, ‘We'll come with you.'

‘There,' said Libby. ‘We'll all come.'

‘Why did you say you'd come with me?' asked Libby, as Harry locked the front door of the café.

‘Someone's just been killed in the theatre, Lib,' said Peter, taking her arm. ‘Who knows where the killer is now?'

‘Lurking in the bushes,' said Harry, taking the other arm. ‘Waiting to pounce.'

‘Don't be flippant,' said Peter. ‘This is serious.'

‘We're sure this is murder, then?' said Libby again.

‘I've told you, we couldn't see, but Ian was certainly treating it as murder.'

Libby shivered. ‘You know, I've never thought about it before, but it is a bit spooky walking up here in the dark.'

‘You're hardly in the dark for long,' said Peter. ‘Look, there's the theatre – all lit up.'

‘And if you look back, you can see the lights from the high street,' said Harry.

Libby looked nervously towards the theatre. ‘We don't go in there, do we?'

‘No. Just into the house,' said Peter. ‘Come on, here we are.'

They found Hetty sitting at the kitchen table with a mug of tea.

‘Right carry-on,' she muttered.

‘Sorry, Hetty,' said Libby helplessly.

‘Not your fault, gal.'

‘Makes a change,' said Harry,
sotto voce
. Hetty glanced at him sharply.

‘Want tea?' she asked. ‘Or something stronger?'

‘Tea would be fine,' said Libby. ‘I'll do it, shall I?'

‘You sit down,' said Hetty, getting to her feet, and suddenly Libby realised how much older she looked.

They sat down and Hetty moved the big kettle on to the Aga hotplate.

‘What are they doing in there now?' she asked.

‘Don't know.' Peter shook his head. ‘I think Ben's having to stay there to show them how things work.'

Hetty shook her head and fetched three more mugs.

They sat in silence with their tea waiting and wondering what would happen. Eventually, Ben appeared, looking exhausted. Hetty immediately got up and fetched the whisky.

‘What happened?' asked Libby, as he collapsed into a chair.

‘They're taking the theatre apart, it seems to me.' He shook his head and accepted a whisky from his mother. ‘Max won't be able to go on at this rate. Or if he does, we'll have to re-rig everything. He certainly can't rehearse in the theatre for at least the rest of this week.'

‘So it is murder?'

‘Oh, yes. Ian and the doctor – pathologist, whoever he was – were quite certain. He had fallen from the tower and then been hit over the head.' Ben looked sick. ‘Quite distinctive, apparently.'

‘So deliberately pushed from the tower?' asked Peter.

‘I don't know.' Ben shook his head again. ‘I suppose so.'

‘Will they be there all night?' asked Harry.

‘Probably. But Ian was going down to the pub to interview all the others. He said he'd let the dancers come back here when he'd finished with them, but I suspect it'll be a long night.'

‘That's all right,' said Libby. ‘I'll stay here to let them in.'

‘Don't have to do that,' said Hetty. ‘I don't lock the door, and I'll leave the hall light on. They'll come in when they're ready.'

‘I'm not leaving you here on your own,' said Ben.

‘You don't reckon any of them boys did it, do you?' said Hetty scornfully. ‘Couldn't hurt a mouse, they couldn't.'

‘They're very strong, Hetty,' said Libby.

‘You do what you like then,' said Hetty. ‘Help yourselves to whisky. I'm going to bed.'

The remaining four looked at each other when she'd gone.

‘You two go,' said Ben. ‘No sense in us all staying up. Lib and I will stay here until a few of them are back, then we'll go.'