Death at the Pantomime

by Evelyn James

  “Might I be of assistance?”

  She turned, expecting the shopkeeper or at least one of his staff and instead found Brilliant Chang. He was muffled up with a scarf and wore an old hat on his head that would not have looked out of place on a scarecrow. The judicious application of make-up had taken the usual light chestnut sheen of his skin down to a pasty and rather sickly looking grey. He was wearing round glasses, which did a clever job of masking his obviously oriental eyes. Despite this disguise Clara recognised him at once.

  “You are taking a chance,” Clara observed.

  “A worthwhile chance,” Chang said quietly. “We need to talk.”

  “I should say,” Clara sighed. “Look, I have been wanting to speak to you for a while, but I stuck to our arrangement not to contact you unless you first summoned me.”

  “I appreciate that,” Chang said. “Which is why I am here. I’ve been trying to catch you alone for ages, but you will keep going into that damn police station.”

  “I am on a case,” Clara said touchily. “Besides, if you were to work with the police, perhaps this matter would sort itself out sooner.”

  Chang snorted.

  “Let’s not talk nonsense. Look, the library is across the road, no one will be looking for me there. Let’s go across and discuss what has been happening.”

  Clara simply nodded. She returned the umbrella to the display stand and allowed Chang to have a head start to the library. After fifteen minutes had passed, she followed, trying to look nonchalant while at the same time having her eyes peeled for signs of trouble.

  She found Chang in the reading room, which happened to be empty at that time of day and allowed them a private place to talk. Chang had dropped the scarf from his chin and was fanning his face with his hat.

  “I am boiling,” he grumbled.

  Clara had no reply to that and she wanted to get down to business before they were disturbed.

  “Your sister approached me,” she said bluntly.

  Chang gave a start, which troubled Clara. She had hoped he had a suitable network of informants about the town keeping him up-to-date with things.

  “You did not know?”

  “No,” Chang admitted, looking displeased. “What did she want?”

  “She hired me to find you for her. Obviously she did not say that she was involved in criminal activities in the town, just that she was concerned for your safety.”

  “Huh? Yes, because she is the reason my safety might be in question,” Chang stalked back and forth across the room. “This is unsettling.”

  “I should say, I feel like a piggy in the middle between you two and I am not terribly happy about it. Jao is going to want results and I don’t want to think what will occur if she discovers I am working for you.”

  “Don’t let her discover it,” Chang shrugged at Clara as if this was obvious.

  Clara had not expected sympathy but had hoped he might show some understanding.

  “Between the pair of you, you have put me in a dreadful position,” Clara told him sharply. “I can barely sleep at night for worry.”

  “You are a detective, that’s part of the job,” Chang brushed aside her concerns. “Eventually this was going to happen, or did you think you could exist without someone taking a grudge at some point?”

  “I was hoping you might offer some reassurance,” Clara folded her arms and glared at him. “Right now, I think I might be safest to just tell your sister where to find you and get her off my back.”

  “You can’t do that!” Chang snapped.

  “Why not?” Clara demanded. “I’ve got to look out for myself, and you are not offering me any sort of protection from Jao’s wrath, should it fall upon me. I owe you nothing Chang, you are part of the reason this whole affair has occurred in the first place.”

  “This is not my fault!” Chang snapped, then he realised how loud his voice was and cringed.

  They both waited to see if the librarian might appear and reprimand them for being noisy, but no one came. Chang sagged a little with relief.

  “This was not meant to happen. I never expected Jao to do this.”

  “And yet she has,” Clara said. “Chang, you are hiding out in an old house in the countryside while your sister runs roughshod over this town. It looks to me as if your empire is falling down around your ears. You have a handful of loyal men, the rest you don’t trust and the longer you hide away, the more they will imagine you are scared and will turn from you. You are a general hiding from his army. Sooner or later you are going to end up with a major desertion problem.”

  “Don’t you think I know that?” Chang retorted. “I am playing a dangerous game keeping in isolation, but I have to do it.”

  Clara looked at him sadly.

  “From an outside perspective, it looks to me as if you are finished.”

  “Never!” Chang growled. “This is a strategic withdrawal.”

  Chang clutched his head in his hands and slowly it dawned on him that he was acting like a man with a target on his back. He had come into Brighton dressed like a working-class nobody for fear of his sister and he would only be there for as long as it took to speak to Clara before running back to his house and hiding away. Every way you looked at it, he was acting not as the powerful criminal gang leader he was, but as a hunted man terrified of everyone.

  Clara saw the reality creep over him and with it came a hardening of his resolve. She felt a faint glimmer of hope. Chang was a criminal, the enemy in many regards, but right at this moment she felt he was her only chance of stopping this gang business and ensuring that she and the residents of Brighton were safe from Jao Leong.

  “Supposing you are right,” Chang said. “I still have to move cautiously. Jao has a lot of support in town.”

  “Maybe not as much as she thinks,” Clara replied. “Some of those working for her have been angered by her reaction to a pair of Brighton citizens. She murdered a man and woman well known in the criminal world because she decided the man was a traitor. This has left a bitter taste in the mouths of local lowlifes. They don’t like the fact that an outsider killed one of their own. I think a reaction is swelling up and if you could encourage it, then it might just be the key to ousting Jao.”

  Chang’s eyes glittered as he absorbed this information.

  “Jao never did understand the diplomacy involved in this life. If she is stirring up resentment, that is good, and completely as I expected from her. But she has power and influence, which will stay the hand of those wishing her harm.”

  “True,” Clara said. “But you are forgetting something.”

  Chang fixed his attention on her.

  “Jao has one disadvantage that I can fully appreciate and which she can do nothing about,” Clara continued. “She is a woman, and many men find it hard to work for a woman. They might at first accept the situation, but gradually it festers within them. I know how that is, since I spend most of my days being confronted by surly men who do not like the fact that a woman is asking them questions. I can only imagine how much tougher it must be if that woman happens to be running a criminal organisation.”

  “That is a good point,” Chang said, stroking his chin in thought. “And Jao will do little to help overcome that prejudice. She has never been, shall we say, a woman of subtlety. She will bludgeon her way to power, that is all.”

  “She poisoned one of her employees who failed her,” Clara added. “He died before my eyes. He had been loyal to her up until that point. He had refused to say a word, then he realised she had turned on him and you could see how that cut to his heart.

  “How many of her employees are now nervous that they could be next? That sort of reactionary punishment is prone to backfiring, and leads to people questioning their loyalties.”

  “Yes. Yes, you are a very good observer of human nature,” Chang grinned at her. “Jao always said I was too lenient on my men. That I gave too many second chances, but there was a reason for that. Everyone fails from time
-to-time, showing a touch of mercy instils respect and even a little gratitude. It seems to me Jao has forgotten this.”

  “And you can use that?”

  Chang paced again, but this time it was not due to anxiety, rather it was because he was thoughtful.

  “You have given me an idea, Clara, a way of dealing with this affair. But I must tread carefully,” Chang paused before her. “My sister will want results from you and she lacks patience. You want protection from me, then I shall give it. Tell my sister of the house where you met with me when she next contacts you. I shall not be there when she comes calling, but it will at least seem as if you are doing your part.”

  “I need a way to contact you Chang. I can’t go on just waiting for you to find me. I may need to let you know something urgently.”

  Chang nodded.

  “I shall arrange a go-between. Someone you can deliver a message to and they will pass it to me. Will that suffice?”

  “I want to be able to speak directly to you,” Clara persisted. “Not just pass along messages.”

  “Of course, if you need to speak to me, then the go-between can arrange it,” Chang was looking happier, his old confidence returning. “What of the police? Did you follow up the information I gave you about a possible traitor among them?”

  “I am working on it,” Clara lied. “Look, Chang, whatever you plan to do, it must not put any more people in danger, do you understand? I don’t want to see full scale gang warfare breaking out on the streets of Brighton.”

  “Give me some credit,” Chang looked hurt. “I am far more discreet than that.”

  “But you are also very angry, oh, you are masking it well, but it is there bubbling away beneath the surface,” Clara caught his eye and held his gaze. “This is personal, Chang, and don’t deny it. And I know how nasty personal disagreements can become.”

  Chang was silent a while, his enthusiasm dimming slightly. He turned to look out of the window of the reading room. Clara could only see the reflection of his face in the glass pane, but it seemed he had grown solemn.

  “There is nothing crueller than betrayal by a family member,” Chang said softly. “Jao’s actions have cut me deep.”

  “From where I am standing, it looks as though her actions have nearly destroyed you,” Clara said gently. “It takes a strong man to rise up from such a crisis and recover himself. This difficulty will either make you stronger than before, or it will be the spark of your destruction.”

  “You are such a cheerful soul,” Chang threw at her sarcastically.

  “This is hardly a cheerful time,” Clara pointed out. “People have died unnecessarily already. I don’t want to see worse occurring.”

  Chang was quiet for some time, then he spoke in a soft voice.

  “Why are you helping me? You hate me.”

  “Yes,” Clara agreed. “Or rather, I hate what you do, I am not sure I have developed enough feeling for you to hate you personally. The reason I am helping you is quite simple. I think you are the only way we are going to rid Brighton of this trouble. As much as I respect the police, I don’t think they have the manpower and resources to crack down on Jao.”

  Clara did not say that Park-Coombs had already told her that sheep-rustling was of more interest to his superiors than a gang running around and causing trouble for the lower classes. It would only be when Jao’s activities started to interfere with the lives of the middle and upper class residents, or impacted on Brighton’s legitimate businesses that the police chiefs would pay heed. By then, Jao’s network would run so deep it would be nightmarish to untangle it.

  “You know what I like about you Clara? Your honesty. You are blunt and brutal, but that appeals to me. You don’t pander to me and you certainly don’t lie,” Chang’s reflection in the window glass bore a smile now. “I suppose that is why I am drawn to you. Well, if we are to be unconventional allies for the time-being we ought to get on with things. No more hiding away, no more chasing shadows. I have to stand up and face my sister.”

  Chang turned around and started to arrange the scarf over his chin once more.

  “I shall let you know about the go-between as soon as I have arranged it. Stay safe Clara.”

  Clara had hoped for a little more from him, something that would actually provide her with physical protection, but Chang was not going to offer her more than he already had. He pulled his hat down around his ears and disappeared from the reading room. Clara was in no rush to follow. It would be safer to keep as much distance between her and the disguised Chang as possible.

  To waste time, Clara went to the reference section of the library and pulled out the Who’s Who for 1917, the year Albert Long passed away. She was not entirely surprised to discover he did not have an entry. She then headed to the non-fiction shelves and browsed for books on the theatre. It was within a thick volume on the history of the pantomime that she found something that caught her attention and made her pause. Clara went to the front desk and checked out the book at once, she had to show Tommy what she had found out.

  It was now an hour since Chang had left and Clara felt confident she was safe to leave. Book in hand, she headed for home, finally with an idea of who might have killed Stanley Hutson.

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Clara laid the book out on the table before Tommy and pointed to a black and white photograph. The picture was of an older gentleman, a head shot that looked to have been taken for a publicity still. The man looked off to one side, not meeting the eyes of the viewer. He did not smile, but had a serious, perhaps thoughtful expression. The caption beneath the photo indicated that the sitter was the late Albert Long, who had been worthy of a small section in the book due to it being his misfortunes that thrust Stanley Hutson into his lifetime role of the dame.

  The author of the book appeared sympathetic to the plight of poor Albert and had written a bittersweet paragraph or two about a talent that never had the chance to shine. Though Albert had failed to fulfil his early promise, he had been a consistent supporting actor in the festive theatrical circuit. He was known for his dastardly villains and bumbling kings or sultans. While he never got quite the spotlight Hutson or Baldry achieved, he had a small following of dedicated individuals who valued his performances. It seemed the author of the book was one of these and had made the time to pay tribute to this unlucky performer.

  The author skimmed over Albert’s suicide with a bland statement about the actor being tragically snatched from life too soon. The book, which had been published the year before, contained a wealth of pictures of famous pantomime actors, sourced from various places, but it was the picture of Albert that had caught Clara’s eye.

  “Interesting and all, but how does this help?” Tommy asked her after he had read through the brief biography of Long.

  “You are failing to read the small print, remember the motto of the good researcher? Always check the sources and footnotes,” Clara pressed her finger carefully to the page, marking the line of text beneath Long’s Photograph. “It states the source of this photograph. ‘Courtesy of Mrs Elizabeth Burns.’ Now, we know that Albert’s sister was called Lizzie and she would seem a likely source for a photograph of her brother. She would have taken possession of all his belongings after his death, including all his publicity shots.”

  Tommy stared at the caption, slowly absorbing this information.

  “Lizzie Burns, wife of an accountant. Wait, Audrey Burns!”

  “Exactly!” Clara retrieved the programme from the pantomime performance and flicked to the page that contained a few lines about Miss Burns.

  “‘Miss Burns is new to the pantomime scene and shall be undertaking the prestigious role of Aladdin for the first time. Miss Burns was educated in Oxford and has performed in amateur productions since the age of ten. Her passion for the theatre was inspired by her late uncle and encouraged by her mother. She is delighted to be part of this year’s production’,” Clara read the slightly dull text. Clearly there had been limited
things to say about Audrey and some filling had been required. “It doesn’t say who her uncle was, but if we begin to make loose connections then we might suppose it was Albert Long.”

  “It is a possibility, but there could be a completely unrelated Elizabeth Burns who supplied this picture and she may not have a daughter called Audrey Burns,” Tommy replied.

  “Coincidences, Tommy,” Clara said. “That is three coincidences. One, that a woman with the first name of Albert’s sister supplied that photograph of him after his death. Two, that Audrey has the same surname as that said woman. And three, that Audrey is stated to have been inspired by her uncle to take to the stage. Surely that number of coincidences suggests something.”

  “And your theory is that Audrey Burns killed Hutson in revenge for her uncle’s suicide? What, she felt he had been thrust from the limelight by Hutson and that had eventually been the trigger for his suicide?”

  “Maybe,” Clara had to admit to herself that there were a lot of holes in her theory, a lot of leaps and assumptions, but what else was there to go on? A woman had killed Hutson and labelled him a thief, so far the only one who might have a motive (if she was related to Albert Long) was Audrey Burns. “We need to go to the theatre and run this by Maddock, maybe he can help unravel this.”

  “He is going to be damn annoyed if his Aladdin is a killer,” Tommy remarked. “That will be the third one of his lead actors he shall have lost.”

  “Mervyn is back, he hasn’t lost him,” Clara brushed off the concern. “Anyway, we can’t let a killer go free. Come on.”

  With that Clara was heading back out the door. Annie gave her a startled look as she departed up the hallway.

  “I was just bringing in tea,” she protested.

  “Sorry Annie, back soon,” Tommy called over his shoulder as he hastened to follow Clara.