Murder Dancing (16 page)

‘That hasn't stopped you in the past.'

‘I know, but I've told you before, I think that part of my brain, or whatever it is, has been dying off. Look how long it's been since I had any, well, feelings.'

‘Three days ago,' said Libby promptly. ‘When you told Jonathan, Tom and me that it was a different person who did all the stuff in London to the person who fixed up the Kabuki curtain.'

‘Oh.' Fran was silent for a moment. ‘But that was nothing, really.'

‘It was quite significant. That's why Ian's asking you now.'

‘I suppose so,' said Fran reluctantly. ‘Anyway, I think you ought to tell him all about your little chats. Won't Harry be taking lunch up for the troops soon? You could go and snaffle a sandwich.'

‘Max might have asked him to take the food to Carpenter's. Easier, really, it's just across the road.'

‘True. Well, go up anyway. Hetty might give you lunch.'

‘I'm not always thinking of my stomach, you know.'

‘Not all the time, no.'

‘Fran!'

Fran was laughing. ‘Oh, go on with you! You know I'm teasing.'

‘All right. I'll go up, but I was hoping to spend the rest of today in the conservatory.'

‘Painting? Guy will be pleased!'

‘Hmm,' said Libby uncrossing her fingers. ‘I'll call you later and tell you what Ian says.'

After sending Ben another text saying she was now coming up to the theatre, she threw her latest cape round her shoulders, tossed her phone into her bag and left the cottage, tripping over Sidney on the way out.

The weather had been dry for the last couple of days, so the track from the top of Allhallow's Lane across the Manor farm fields wouldn't be too muddy, and Libby decided to go that way. It had the benefit of being away from the high street and Maltby Close, so neither the dancers nor Harry would see her if they did happen to be going to the Manor for lunch. Sidney, as usual, appeared from behind the row of cottages and trotted along beside her as far as the stile, then sat down for a wash.

She passed the row of rebuilt Hoppers' Huts and headed down towards the back of the theatre. As she got nearer, Ben appeared from the front.

‘Thought you might come this way,' he said, ‘so I came to meet you. Ian's in my office interrogating.'

‘Interrogating who? The company are all in Carpenter's.'

Ben grinned. ‘Flo and Lenny. He wanted to ask them about Stan's father.'

‘Oh, he's definitely his father, then? Now, why would he want to do that? He's got all the resources of the Force to find out about Wally Willis. By the way, Seb didn't know about him.'

‘I think he wanted to know what the public view of him was, and if they knew anything about his family.'

‘Has he decided it's something to do with his father, then?' said Libby. ‘Doesn't seem very likely.'

‘He didn't actually confide in me, Lib.' Ben grinned at her and tucked her arm through his. ‘Come on, let's go and see what Mum's got for lunch.'

‘You shouldn't let her cook for you every day. You get fed at home.'

‘I can't stop her. And Harry's taking lunch over to Carpenter's today, so there's no freebie food.'

‘I came up to see Ian. I might miss him if we go into the kitchen.'

‘Then go and knock on the door and tell him. He's not likely to be cross about being interrupted with Flo and Lenny.'

Libby followed her knock on the office door by sticking her head round it.

‘When you've finished, could I have a word, Ian?'

He stood up. ‘You can have one now. We'd finished, hadn't we, Flo? Lenny?'

‘Yeah. Just 'avin' a chat, we was.' Flo creaked to her feet and she and Lenny went out into the passage. ‘See you in the kitchen, gal.'

‘What was it, Libby?' Ian sat down again. ‘I hope Ben doesn't mind me appropriating his desk.'

‘'Course he doesn't.' Libby sat in the chair Flo had vacated. ‘I just wanted to tell you a couple of things I picked up this morning.'

She repeated the story of Sebastian's drug problems, and Stan's unwillingness to come out, including her theory that he'd used his father's contacts to get the pressure off Sebastian.

‘And finally,' she said, ‘it turns out Dan Washburn's wife is a Wiccan and isn't overly keen on the ballet.'

Ian blinked. ‘Is that relevant?'

‘Well, she might not want it to go ahead. He might have tried to stop the performance by sabotage while they were still in London.'

‘He could have simply pulled out, surely?' said Ian.

‘Perhaps there were reasons why he couldn't do that. Money, for instance.'

‘Perhaps, but I really think that's one of the slenderest motives you could come up with.'

‘It is a bit contrived,' conceded Libby.

‘However, there might be something in the drugs story.' Ian stared thoughtfully at the empty mug on the desk.

‘Fran thought I should tell you.'

Ian lifted his head and smiled. He still fancies her, thought Libby. After all this time.

‘Did she tell you I was trying to bully her into having one of her moments?'

‘Sort of.' Libby grinned back. ‘She says she hardly ever gets them these days. Anyway, your bosses wouldn't like you consulting a witchy woman.'

‘I may have been grumbled at in the past, but they leave me alone these days.'

‘Now you've reached your exalted rank?'

‘Something like that. Now I'm going down to Flo's hall to harry the dancers.'

‘They'll be having their lunch.'

‘Then I won't be disturbing them, will I?'

‘Why don't you send an underling?'

‘I shall be taking an underling with me, don't worry.' Ian stood up and came round the desk. Libby caught a whiff of tantalising male cologne and wondered again why he hadn't been snapped up long ago.

I suppose, she thought, following him out of the room, he works too hard to concentrate on relationships. Or maybe he was married in the past and won't risk it again?

‘He was ready to risk a relationship with Fran though, wasn't he?' said Ben, when she put this to him.

‘But he might only have seen that as a passing fancy,' said Libby. ‘Except he still seems very fond of her.'

‘He's very fond of you, too,' said Ben. ‘That doesn't mean anything.'

‘Soup?' asked Hetty.

Libby called Fran when she got back to Allhallow's Lane.

‘He was interested about Stan and Seb and the drugs business,' she reported, ‘but very dismissive about Dan's Wiccan wife.'

‘Hmm.' Fran was quiet for a moment. ‘It does seem unlikely.'

‘But you said especially to tell him about that.'

‘I know. It seemed important. But maybe I got it wrong.'

‘Not exactly a moment, then?'

‘No … but there was something.'

‘Then you ought to tell Ian. He was saying today he was hoping for something from you, and you said you don't get them any more.'

‘They aren't as definite as they used to be. But yes, I'll tell him, although I shall feel a complete fool if there's nothing to it.'

‘Suppose,' said Libby slowly, ‘that there was something there, but not the obvious connection. Not Dan's wife, say.'

‘But Wicca itself, perhaps? Yes, that's possible. But still unlikely. Wicca is supposed to be a very gentle, peaceful religion, isn't it?'

‘I can't say I know much about it. They believe in the Earth Goddess, don't they?'

‘I think there's a bit of confusion about Gods and Goddesses,' said Fran. ‘I shall look into it. Anyway, I'll send Ian a quick text saying something ambivalent and leave it to him.'

‘OK. I'm hoping to get away from here over the weekend. I had hoped perhaps the company would go back to London for the weekend, but Max wants to keep them working on the assumption that he will be allowed to open next week. And I've had enough of dancers.'

‘Poor Hetty will have to stay there.'

‘And Peter, too.' Libby sighed. ‘Oh, well, I suppose I'll have to stay too, then.'

‘You can come down here for the day, if you like. Or you and Ben could come down for supper tomorrow night and stay over.'

Libby brightened. ‘Oh, yes! That's a great idea. I'll tell Ben.'

‘I'd
ask
him, actually,' said Fran.

‘I'm always diplomatic,' said Libby.

Fran's laugh could be heard in Canterbury.

Chapter Seventeen

On Saturday, there was still a police presence at the theatre, but it was understood that Ian had taken himself and a colleague up to London. Max took the company over to Carpenter's Hall in the morning, Ben went off to the estate timber yard, Libby went shopping and Harry said he couldn't take lunch to the dancers as Saturday was his busiest lunchtime in the restaurant.

‘You should have heard them,' Max told Libby later that afternoon when he called in to see her. ‘I tried to tell them it had been a perk, and they were very lucky to have had it every day, but it was as though they'd been deprived of basic human rights.'

‘What did you do?' Libby was amused.

‘Seb and Damian went to the little shop and bought every sandwich they had.'

‘Well, at least they're handmade,' said Libby.

Max smiled and fidgeted with his mug. Libby had supplied tea and was now waiting to supply sympathy, which she felt sure was going to be demanded.

‘Have you learnt anything more from the boys?' he asked eventually.

‘Your boys? No. Apart from the fact that it was drugs which got Seb into trouble when Stan rescued him.'

‘Not entirely unexpected.' Max looked dissatisfied. ‘At least Seb hasn't got a motive.'

‘No.' Libby was surprised. ‘Did you think he might have?'

‘He was the closest to Stan. And I was sure he didn't really like him.'

‘Difficult situation given they were living together.' Libby was unwilling to say anything else.

‘Mmm.' Max took a sip of tea and put his mug down. ‘Has your policeman said anything to you?'

‘No. Well, he wouldn't. He's not allowed to discuss cases with members of the public.' Libby crossed her fingers.

‘But you've helped him in the past.'

‘That doesn't make any difference.'

‘But you can make suggestions?'

Libby gave him a wary look. ‘How do you mean?'

‘If you hear something you can pass it on, can't you?'

‘If I think it's relevant. Anybody can, and should. If you hear anything, you should tell the police.' Libby squinted at him. ‘Have you heard something, then?'

‘Not really.' Max was fidgeting again.

‘Yes, you have. That was why you came, wasn't it?'

‘You're too shrewd for your own good,' said Max with an attempt at a grin.

‘Nosy, is what most people say. Shrewd is polite. Now, come on, out with it.'

Max sighed. ‘It's not much, really. I just happened to overhear the two new boys –'

‘Which two?'

‘Jeremy and Bernie.' Max was surprised. ‘Why?'

‘Not Paul, then?'

‘No-o. Why do you say that?'

‘Just go on.'

‘Well, it was about him, actually. You know they were all auditionees?'

‘Yes.'

‘They've stuck together to a degree because they're all new to the company.' Max stared into the fire.

‘And?' prompted Libby.

‘Jeremy and Bernie were talking about him.'

‘I gathered that,' said Libby, after another moment's silence. ‘What about him?'

‘Apparently, he got thrown out of a panto chorus.'

‘That's unusual, isn't it? What for?'

‘That's the trouble, they didn't say. They both obviously knew all about it – whether they were in it as well, I don't know. But it sounded – I don't know – nasty.' Max looked up anxiously.

‘I see what you mean.' Libby frowned at her mug. ‘How can you find out what happened? Has he got a CV? Wouldn't it list all the productions he's been in?'

‘Not always. We can check up on, say, the most recent, and anything we're familiar with, but it's only too easy for a dancer to leave something off. Something he's not proud of, or a flop.'

‘And they get in on audition, anyway.'

‘Yes. And those three were the best. He's a good dancer. Got a sort of inner energy. He can look really evil.'

‘You said before that he might have been trouble if he'd been in on the beginning of the project.'

‘Yes, and what I heard today seemed to confirm it. Sounds as if he's trouble in a company.'

‘But was he around long enough to cause the problems in London?'

‘Not the early ones.' Max made a face. ‘But certainly the threats of burning and the cockerel.'

‘I don't suppose Bernie and Jeremy would talk to me if I asked them about him, would they?'

‘I don't see why not. You could try.'

‘In an oblique fashion,' said Libby. ‘Being tactful, you know.'

Max grinned. ‘Aren't you always?'

‘Ben and I are away tonight, but we'll be back tomorrow. I'll track you down then. Are you keeping them working tomorrow?'

‘Probably, although I'll suggest they take some time off in the afternoon. They've worked really hard.'

‘They certainly have, and they've all had a dreadful shock.' Libby stood up. ‘I'll have to turn you out now, as I have to get ready to go out, but I'll see you tomorrow.'

Libby reported this conversation to Fran as they stood in the latter's kitchen broaching the first bottle of wine a couple of hours later.

‘I would have thought it would be easy enough to do,' said Fran, decanting steamed broccoli into a dish. ‘Just sit down with them and ask their advice on panto chorus.'