Final Act (6 page)

Henry knew why he had.

“So, Jeffrey, who’s going to save your butt once you’re in New York?
”

Muscle twitching in the side of his face, Jeffrey ignored his remark but softened his tone.   

“Okay. Down to business.  I spoke with Andrew.
  Told him I wouldn’t be recommending him for the chair.
”

“How did he take the news?”

“He was upset but he won’t cause any trouble
, not if he knows what’s good for his career
. Board of Directors are in agreement.   Congratulations, Henry.  You got what you wanted.”

Henry looked in the mirror and raised the mug.

But you didn’t
get what you wanted
, did you, Jeffrey?
 
Spasms,
arched backbone, spittle and foam pouring out of your mouth
, wasn’t what you were looking for.

Henry laughed and drank the rest of the whiskey in a single gulp. 
No sense in dredging up the shouted insults, vindictive, spit drivelling rot of the rest of their conversation.
  He popped a peppermint candy, brushed imaginary dust from his tailored suit,
closed the door quietly and walked slowly down the hallway towards centre stage.

He met A
ndrew and Eleanor at the doorway into the large common room.  They didn’t exchange greetings but stood silently together listening to the snatches of conversation drifting into the hallway.    

In all the years I’ve known him, I never suspected Jeffrey suffered from seizures.

Don’t be daft; the man
was
poisoned.

Who’s going to assume the Director’s mantle?

Why Andrew, of course, who else?

Poor Catherine, I’m glad she was spared the sight of her husband’s death.

Too bad, she wasn’t spared his infidelity.  

Died in agony, you say?  It was his body I heard thrashing round on the floor.  I thought something let loose on the stage set, given all the mechanical screw ups over the past few weeks. 

Henry took a deep breath, nodded to Andrew and
Eleanor;
the three entered the room
and
positioned
themselves
behind the drinks table.  Gradually all conversation ceased as more and more heads turned towards
them.
He
nry cleared his throat and
waited for complete silence before addressing them. 

“We’ve all experienced a terrible shock tonight and, as difficult as it might be, we need to keep a clear head.  I ask each and every one of you to keep Jeffrey’s family - Catherine and their children - in your thoughts and prayers
.  The police have requested we do not leave the theatre before they’ve had the opportunity to speak to us.
I would suggest you ease up on the drinks before that happens.”

The sound of a muttered ‘
sanctimonious shit
’ drifted up from the back of the room to the drinks table.  Henry smirked, Andrew smiled, and Eleanor turned her head.

Another
slurred voice was heard.  “What’s going to happen to the next scheduled play, Henry?  Are we going to be laid off?  Should we start looking around for something else?”

“I can’t answer those questions.  I have no idea; I will meet with the Board of Director’s as soon as possible.  Now, good people, I suggest you get rid of the makeup and back into your street clothes.”  He looked at his watch.  “I have to meet with the police.  Try to stay calm and for God’s sake, no dramatics.”

“
Theatre without drama –impossible - w
hy
it’d be like a bathroom without a toothbrush”, Charlotte said. 

Henry and Eleanor made deaf and left the room.  Andrew addressed the group.

“The first
ones to get rid of makeup and costumes are the first ones to leave for the comfort of their own homes and beds.” 
He smiled and bid them
a
good night.

“Keeps a level head that one does”, Charlotte said.  “We’d be lucky to have him in the Director’s chair.” 

***

On the other side of the curtain
,
Alexis and Susan sat together
in middle row seats, centre aisle
.  The middle aged women had been friends for the last seven years and how the friendship managed to blossom was a mystery.  The friend
ship began when
Alexis, a Librarian in the city’s main branch retired and moved to a small town where she was able to buy a small bungalow.
  Susan, a wealthy city socialite,
relocated to the same small town when her husband died unexpectedly of an aneurism.  Escaping the claustrophobic care and concern of family and friends, she invited her sister-in-law to move into the family home, relocated, bought and restored a Victorian mansion in the small town.

The two friends met at a fund raiser for the town’s library.  Susan had listened to Alexis’
halting
speech of the importance of small town libraries
.  She decided to befriend the retired, unassuming, shy Librarian.  The two forged a strong relationship, travelled once a year together to Europe, made frequent trips to the city condo Susan bought to shop and attend the theatre.  They joined the town’s bridge club where Susan dragged a reluctant Alexis into the mystery of the poison pen letters the women had begun to receive.  The two women actually succeeded in uncovering the culprit.  It gave Susan an undying
thirst for all things mysterious.  Alexis regretted her involvement and put the whole incident out of her mind. 

Alexis looked at her watch.  Thirty minutes since the producer
first
stepped on stage
and
informed the
m
there had been a backstage accident
.  His next appearance was a bit more alarming.  T
he police were on the scene and had requested everyone remain in the theatre until further notice. 
At this
latest news, theatre patrons’ cell phones
sprout
ed faster than weeds in a garden.
 

The Producer had
waited until the buzz subsided
before
inform
ing
them the box office would be starting to issue refunds in the next five minutes
and t
he bar woul
d be open
ing
at the same time.
  A mass exodus to the lobby coincided with the closing of the curtain.

Alexis
was debating whether to seek out the facilities when the
jab to her ribs
hit.

“For God’s sake, Susan, an excuse me or something would get my attention.”

“Sorry
, Alexis
.  Look over at the top step, to your left, beside the curtain.”

She
glanced over and saw a tall, familiar looking woman, heading backstage.

“Kate”, Susan yelled.
 

“Honest to God, Susan, you should have made a career in the theatre. Your voice projection is phenomenal.”
 
 

Kate turned, waved, smiled, pointed to her watch, and exited backstage.

“Murder’s been done, Alexis
.  A
ccident my foot.  No accident would see a member of the Murder Squad here.”

Alexis said not a word.

“
Quick
Alexis
,
to the left.
If I’m not mistaken, the tall black man motioning to the usher is none other than handsome himself. 
It’s Roger, the second member of the murder team. 
I told you, Alexis, murder’s been done.” 

Alexis
suppressed her groan
. 
Had it only been t
wo years since the
murder
; t
wo years since they met Kate and Roger.
The memory
seemed
as fresh and chilling as autumn air.  She
shivered
at the remembered heartbreak; the trauma; and, at the end, the
sheer
terror.  

“Indigestion, Alexis?”

“You could say that.” 

Alexis forced her thoughts elsewhere.  She
thought about the first time she experienced one of Tennessee Williams’ play.  She
was only 19
and had just moved from a small rural town to attend university. 
The play
was
T
he Glass Menagerie
and
it
had
stunned her senses. 
She identified with Laura, the pathologically shy young woman who lived in a private world of glass animals and old phonograph records.
 
She knew the reason she related so well.  She suffered too from a life-long painful shyness, haunted by the ‘otherness’ of people; tongue tied, self-conscious, at school, at home
, at work
.   

Loud, persistent coughing from the woman seated a row behind disrupted of her thoughts.  She was trying to immerse herself back into her reverie when she was struck by a horrid thought.  She turned to her friend.

“Tell me, Susan, please, that you don’t know a single person involved in this play?”

“I know two, the Director, Jeffrey Stone and the Producer, Henry Ward.  No, wait a minute, make that four, I know their wives as well, Catherine and Cheryl.  No, sorry, make it five.  I forgot about Eleanor; she’s in charge of set design and costumes. I went to boarding school with sister, Alice.  I have memories of her trailing behind us on weekends, a bit of an oddball ...WHAT? ”

“Listen to me, Susan.  If you value our friendship, you’ll keep your distance from whatever is going on backstage. The police will handle it.  I’m not; hear me, NOT, getting involved in another murder case.”

“Relax. My ambitions to be a sleu
th have been wiped as clean as the doctor’s
operating table.
 
Perhaps I shouldn’t have been so enthusiastic in my wave to Kate; I wouldn’t want to give her the wrong impression”.

“No need to fear, Susan, Kate and Roger would move heaven and hell to keep us out of police business.”

Chapter 1

Kate
lifted her arm towards the
snooze button
, remembered the early morning briefing before the interviews
and threw back the covers.
Her head pounded as she stumbled to the shower, headaches were ever present during murder investigations due to the sheer lack of sleep.

As the h
ot water pound
ed
away
her body’s stiffness, she
thought about the messages waiting on her
answering machine
when she got home.  T
he first one
was
from Abir
who left the typical rant.  So
rry she
hadn’t been able to
join them
; they had a good time without her; and, if
she continued
in her career as
a homicide detective
, they were sure to continue having g
ood times without her
.  Please let them know about this Saturday night.

The second message interfered with her sleep.  It had been from David
wanting to know if she was free next weekend. 
It
was time to face the music. 
The
ir
relationship was going nowhere; it was time to end it.  He was too dependent, too needy.  It didn’t start that way.

They met over a year ago at
detective’s conference in New Brunswick.  The
attraction was immediate and the
romance b
lossomed.  Maybe it was all those back and forth trips to each other’s city that cooled things down.  She wasn’t sure.  One thing she
was sure of though,
his feelings hadn’t cooled towards her.  In fact, just the opposite was happening – vague hints surfacing about long term commitment.  David was
fourteen years older than her, divorced, and had a 16 year old daughter
.  He didn’t come baggage free but then who did?  

On his promotion to
Chief Inspector in charge of the detective division
, his work
schedule
doubled
and they saw each other less and less. Slowly, their relationship began to change.  David lost interest in going out, preferring to spend their time together inside
either his or her apartment, cooking meals
, talking about the breakup of his marriage, his concern over the impact it would have on his daughter and the guilt he experienced over his failure.