Murder in the Second Row (21 page)

‘Sorry Adam,
sorry Simone. I’ll see if I can find a wider skirt in wardrobe, or
I might be able to let a piece in to give more room. Leave it with
me, I’ll sort it out.’

Despite Adam’s
firm control, the cast became increasingly nervous and forgot lines
they’d had word-perfect the previous week. Scene changes were slow
as new crew members learned the moves, and the whole play felt dull
and flat from weeks of repetition.

Jessica,
standing in for the still-absent Austin as stage manager,
recognised the symptoms and decided it was a particularly bad
attack of the “final week blues”. She did her best to tighten the
crew work and to lift morale, but by the time coffee break came
along she felt more in need of a good strong vodka and tonic.

Cast and crew
gathered glumly in the Green Room, nursing their mugs quietly. Adam
gave them a few minutes to themselves. Once they’d finished their
drinks and had time to settle down, he called for their
attention.

‘We’ve had a
few hiccups tonight, but don’t let it affect your core performance.
Hold on to the truth of your character and the rest will come. You
know the script, you know the moves; trust your instincts and don’t
be distracted. That counts just as much in rehearsal as it does in
front of an audience. Get your performance up to an acceptable
level that you can maintain automatically, so that anything more
you can bring to it is a bonus. Always be good, with the option of
being great. Now, before we get back to it, let’s do a few
relaxation exercises to loosen you all up a bit. You look like you
need it!’

He gathered the
cast in a circle and they began some vocal exercises, chanting
nonsense syllables to relax their mouths and throat muscles. As the
‘me me me’s’ and ‘mo mo mo’s’ filled the Green Room, Jessica
beckoned to the crew and took them up to the Rose Room for their
own pep talk.

‘Well, team –
obviously we need to improve our game a bit too. Has anyone got any
suggestions to sort out the problems we’ve found?’

‘We’re going to
mark the bolts on the hotel set more clearly so we can see when
they’re set properly, and I’ll add a couple more as back-up,’ said
Howard.

‘If those steps
up to the cave keep giving trouble, we could make them shallower or
try a ramp,’ offered Shane.

‘OK, that’s
good. Did you have a chance to find a bigger skirt for Simone,
Clara-Jane?’

Clara-Jane
grimaced. ‘There wasn’t anything upstairs. I’ve given her a
temporary one she can work with tonight and I’ll hunt round the
charity shops tomorrow, but if worst comes to worst I’ll just have
to sew in a couple of panels. At least black will be easy to
match.’

‘Right then,
let’s get back into it. And keep an eye open for anything else that
might go wrong, preferably before it happens! Thanks, guys.’

The second half
of the rehearsal went more smoothly. Right up to the point when
every light in the place went out.

Cast and crew
stood motionless, waiting for their eyes to adjust from the bright
stage lighting to total darkness. Jessica fumbled for the torch in
the stage manager’s corner, but the batteries had been taken out
after the previous show and she couldn’t find them nearby. After a
few minutes they could see the dimly-glowing exit signs in the
wings and made their way slowly backstage.

‘Is it a power
cut or just us?’ asked Jessica.

‘I can see
lights up the road,’ reported Howard from over by the window. ‘It
looks as if it might be just us.’

‘Did we forget
to pay the electricity bill?’ asked Clara-Jane brightly.

‘Oh, I don’t
think Gerald would let that happen,’ said Howard, with total
confidence. ‘Besides, they don’t just disconnect people any more,
do they? Stay here for the moment, I’ll go and check outside,’.

‘I’ll come with
you,’ said Jessica. They left Adam telling the cast to carry on
reciting their lines from where they’d stopped.

On the
pavement, just outside the front door, lay a heavy tangle of wires,
visible in the orange glow of the streetlight. High on the front
corner of the theatre a broken bracket hung down where the main
power supply had been fastened.

‘How the hell
did that happen? Careful! There’s 300amps per phase going through
that lot,’ said Howard, stepping gingerly across the wires. Jessica
followed him, looking closely at the tangle.

‘Is that a
piece of rope in amongst all that other junk?’

He squinted in
the direction she was pointing. ‘Yes, I think you’re right,
Jessica. Looks like we’ve been hit by vandals. Bastards!’ He fumed
impotently. ‘There’s nothing we can do to fix it tonight – we may
as well tell Adam to let the troops go home. It’s black as the ace
of spades in there and they’ll be groping about unable to tell
their backsides from their elbows. Do you want to call your tame
policeman and let him know about this?’

She didn’t
answer. ‘Hey, Jessica! Are you listening? Would you mind?’

‘Yeah yeah,
just hold your horses a minute, Howard. Something about this
reminds me of something I came across recently, but I can’t think
what.’ She shook her head in frustration. ‘No, can’t put my finger
on it. Maybe it’ll come to me overnight. All right, I’ll call Jack
if you call the power company.’ She grinned at him. ‘Last one to
finish their call buys the drinks!’

They pulled out
their cell phones and hit the dial buttons.

Jessica
explained the situation to Jack in a few brief sentences and
accepted his offer to notify the duty patrol supervisor. She
snapped her phone shut and turned to Howard in triumph. He mouthed
that he was stuck on hold. She mimed playing a violin.

‘How sad for
you! I’m going up the street to the petrol station to get a couple
of torches so the cast can get their stuff together and go home.
Hang in there, big boy!’

By the time she
came back there was a patrol car parked out front and Howard was
showing the officers what he thought had happened. Jessica went
inside, following her wavering disc of torchlight along the
corridor and backstage to the Green Room where the cast had just
reached the last few lines of the show.

‘Sorry, team,’
she said, ‘but it looks like we’re done for the night. Our mains
electrical supply has been pulled right out of the wall and we’ll
have to get the power company in to fix it first thing tomorrow.
I’ve got a torch here to give you enough light to grab your gear,
and if you give me a minute to check the Box Office I might find a
couple more torches to speed things along.’

‘Thanks,
Jessica,’ said Adam. ‘Do you think the theatre will be back in
action by tomorrow’s rehearsal? We could go to another venue but
I’d really rather keep using the set at this late stage.’

‘See what
Howard says, he was talking to the power company just now to report
the fault. They may have given him some idea of when it’ll be
fixed.’

‘Do you think
you could get those extra torches soon, please?’ asked Terence.
‘With my night-blindness trouble I’m fumbling in the dark
here.’

‘Coming right
up, Terence,’ said Jessica cheerfully, and skipped off through the
make-up room where her torchlight flared brighter in the
room-length mirrors. She pushed open the stage door and made her
way down the far side of the building to the Box Office.

Good old Gerald
had stashed a row of torches for the Front of House staff to use,
all placed neatly in a drawer along with fresh packets of
replacement batteries, and it was the work of a moment to load them
up and head back to the waiting cast.

‘Let there be
light!’ she declaimed to the group waiting in the Green Room, and
then stopped dead as her brain finally made the connection it had
been looking for.

The LORD will
strike you with madness, blindness, and panic. You will grope
around in broad daylight, just like a blind person groping in the
darkness, and you will not succeed at anything you do.

On Saturday
morning, once power had been restored to the theatre, Jessica
joined the members of the construction team and stage crew who were
having their own practice session. It was proving difficult to
manage the scene change, from the complicated hotel set at the end
of Act One, to the Petra rocks and tent of Act Two, so they wanted
to work out a better technique. One thing that Adam insisted on was
fast, efficient scene changes, saying that nothing undermined a
performance more than leaving the audience sitting waiting in the
dark.

They tried
several combinations of movements until Howard was satisfied that
they had found the best sequence, then they practised doing the
change that way many times over. After an hour, they had reduced
the time needed for the scene change from one and a half minutes to
forty-five seconds.

‘Well done,
team,’ said Howard, easing his aching shoulders. ‘Adam should be
happy with that. Jessica, if Austin ever shows his face here again
and decides to join us as stage manager, can you fill him in on how
we’re doing it?’

‘Sure. I wish
we knew where he was and if he plans on turning up. I’d prefer to
be free to troubleshoot during the run of show, and it’s really too
late to get someone else in to stage-manage at this point in the
game.’

‘Are the police
still looking for him? He must have found a good hiding place,
wherever he is.’ Shane appeared to relish the idea of Austin being
a fugitive from justice. He pulled out an imaginary pistol and
ducked behind the hotel desk, popping his head up to yell ‘You’ll
never take me alive, copper!’

‘Suits me,
Shane,’ said Howard, without bothering to look up. ‘Bang, you’re
dead. Now go and get the spray oil and lubricate those bolts and
hinges, would you?’

Shane stood up
and walked zombie-like to the workshop, returning with the
spray-can. ‘I am Shane the Undead,’ he intoned. ‘Here to anoint you
with the sacred oil of the Underworld.’

‘Shane, what on
earth did your Mum put on your cereal this morning?’ asked Jessica.
‘A great big spoonful of idiot powder? Settle down, boy, we’ve got
work to do.’

‘Mum’s been
doing heaps of baking for the Green Room suppers. Muffins, fruit
loaves, slices – the freezer’s chockfull.’ He rubbed his tummy.
‘S’good stuff, too, I tried some when she wasn’t looking.’

The crew perked
up. Shane’s Mum Erica was legendary for her suppers, and always
made sure the stage crew got their share at interval once the scene
changes were over. Other less thoughtful providers sometimes forgot
and allowed the actors to scoff the lot.

‘Can you ask
her to do some of her cheese scones too?’ asked Howard. ‘If it’s
not too much bother? They’re my favourite and MaryAnn doesn’t let
me get near that sort of thing at home. All we have is fresh fruit
and salads – far too healthy.’

Discussion of
their preferred treats kept them happily entertained while they
finished the session, by which time most of the cast had arrived
and had filed through to the Green Room.

Jessica went to
get a drink of water, but as she pushed open the stage door there
was a sudden hush in the conversation. Stewart was sitting at the
table, with Phil, Pippa and Simone looking over his shoulder. On
the table were two sheets of purple paper. Jessica hurried
over.

‘What have you
got there, Stewart? Aren’t those the religious notes that came in
the letterbox? What are you doing with them?’

He grabbed them
up guiltily. ‘I got the first one out of the rubbish bin – you’d
thrown it away so I figured it didn’t matter. Then Gerald showed me
this other one and I wanted to see if anyone else had seen any, or
could tell us anything about them. I’m sorry if that was
wrong.’

She forced
herself to lighten her expression.

‘No, that’s OK
Stewart. I’m sure they’re not important. Just a load of old
rubbish. The bin was the right place for them.’

‘Actually,
Jessica, I think they might be a genuine threat,’ said Phil,
looking worried. ‘The wording is pretty specific if you read it
carefully.’

Pippa, still
reading over Stewart’s shoulder, gasped suddenly.

‘Look at this!’
She grabbed the page from his hand and pointed. ‘This is hideous!
…until at last you are completely destroyed for doing evil….
Blindness and panic – groping in the darkness – isn’t that exactly
what happened last night? My God, somebody wants us dead! What are
they going to do next?’

An excited
chatter burst out among the cast, taking on a note of panic as they
imagined the possibilities. Jessica cursed inwardly. This was
exactly what she had hoped to avoid, and by letting the notes out
of her control she had allowed it to happen. She took a deep breath
and chose a relaxed but commanding tone.

‘Don’t get too
concerned, people. I’m sure these are just a minor annoyance and
that last night’s power cut was simply a coincidence. I’ve told the
police about them anyway, just in case, and they’re keeping a close
eye on the place. The instant anyone with a nine-foot flaming sword
approaches the door they’ll be arrested, OK?’

A ripple of
laughter rewarded her speech.

‘Has there been
any mention of plagues of boils?’ asked Terence. ‘Only, with my
eczema, I really wouldn’t want to be exposed to any irritating skin
conditions.’

She blessed him
silently as the rest of the cast hooted with mirth. Another crisis
averted. As casually and discreetly as possible, she took the notes
from Stewart and promised herself that she’d pass them on to Jack
the first chance she got. In fact, it would make a good excuse to
see him again.

Jack raised his
eyebrows as he read through the pages. He had answered her request
for a meeting by inviting himself round to her place for dinner on
Saturday night.