Death at the Pantomime

by Evelyn James

  Clara was out the front door before Annie could unleash her annoyance upon them.

  They arrived back at the theatre in the middle of the matinee. Maddock was easy to find backstage, but he was not keen to be distracted from the production. He followed each line, each move, each song with a hawk-like gaze and did not want to be disturbed. It took Clara all her powers of persuasion to convince him to leave the wings and head for the laundry room where they could talk in peace.

  “I don’t like leaving a performance,” Maddock puttered. “It feels like bad luck.”

  “You were watching every step when Hutson died,” Clara pointed out. “Seems to be bad luck doesn’t much care for what you are doing.”

  Sobered by this statement, Maddock said no more and allowed Clara to explain.

  “I think Audrey Burns is the niece of the late Albert Long,” Clara began.

  Maddock blinked at this statement.

  “Audrey?” He thought for a moment. “I know Long had a niece.”

  Clara gave a relieved sigh, for until that point she had not been certain of even that key fact. She had been fumbling about in the dark, hoping her conclusions were not just puffs of hot air.

  “What can you tell me about Audrey?” She asked.

  Maddock frowned.

  “She auditioned for Aladdin back in June. I could see she had talent, but she had done absolutely no acting in professional productions, only in amateur shows. I was reluctant to cast her in the lead and offered her a part in the chorus to begin with.”

  “Something made you change your mind,” Clara said.

  “Well, yes,” Maddock flushed a deep red and looked uneasy. “You see, Audrey approached me and begged for the part of Aladdin, said it would be the making of her career. It is hard for actresses to get started. So many are auditioning for the roles and, quite frankly, a lot of producers go for looks rather than ability. Audrey is not the prettiest of things, though with the right make-up that can be overcome.

  “Anyway, I felt her plight, but I had already given one major role to an actress out of charity, namely Grace Allen. I was reluctant to do the same with another role, especially if I could place a familiar face in the part. Pantomimes sell so much on who is performing the key roles.

  “That was when Audrey made me an offer. She said if I let her take the role of Aladdin, she would ask for no payment in return. Effectively I should have her performing for free. I was not entirely convinced, but she wanted the role so badly, certain it would make her name and I confess that any way of saving money is a bonus for me. Putting on a production of this scale is never cheap and the last few seasons ticket sales have been down.”

  “Long story short, you have Audrey playing the part for free,” Tommy interjected.

  Maddock put out his arms and hefted his shoulders in a ‘what can I say’ gesture. It was obvious he was not really ashamed of his antics.

  “What else can you tell me about Audrey, about her family and personal life?” Clara said, not particularly interested in Maddock’s financial dealings. “Audrey must have money, if she can afford to work for free.”

  “She said her mother would support her,” Maddock said. “Has never much mentioned her father. Honestly, we have not spoken a great deal about her personal life. But, if what you are saying is true, I am surprised she did not mention it. Most actors would have used such a personal connection to secure a role. No shame in it.”

  “The thing is, if Audrey had an ulterior reason for joining the pantomime, such as murdering Stanley Hutson, then she might have felt it prudent to keep her family connections secret.”

  Maddock looked stunned.

  “No, surely not!”

  “Well, we know that a woman most likely killed Hutson, and we know it happened during the interval with the fire as a distraction. There was a clear message written on Hutson’s costume, and that message makes no sense unless we take into account the rumours that Hutson had stolen his famed role from someone. That brings us back to Albert, who lost his first dame role to Hutson and never recovered. Now he is dead, but supposing someone felt bitterly about his suicide, someone such as the niece who adored him and aspired to go on the stage like him. Audrey states that her uncle inspired her. I know it is all supposition, but it could be correct.”

  “Audrey was in the alley during the fire,” Maddock said, looking confused by everything. “She was witnessed there.”

  “We now know that Audrey had accomplices for hiding the body. Those accomplices would be very keen to provide her with an alibi, as a result providing themselves with one. That means…” Clara came to a halt, a sudden realisation coming to her. “Oh, how stupid I have been, why did I not see that before?”

  “What now?” Maddock looked alarmed.

  “Mr Maddock, I need to talk to Erikson, urgently.”

  “No, Miss Fitzgerald, please, the pantomime must continue. I cannot afford another interrupted performance. Allow us to finish the second half before you attack my cast further.”

  Maddock looked pathetic and Clara relented.

  “All right, I shall wait. But Erikson must be brought to me as soon as the curtain drops, understood?”

  Maddock nodded, still looking close to despair.

  “Understood. You can wait in my office, if you like.”

  Maddock shuffled them out of sight and had instructions sent out that Clara and Tommy should be provided with tea and sandwiches, a small attempt to keep them occupied and out of his way.

  “You scare Maddock to death,” Tommy observed to Clara once they were settled in the office.

  “I only scare his bank account,” Clara retorted.

  They passed the time as best they could, discussing nothing in particular, until a very loud round of applause signalled the pantomime was concluding.

  “Why are we interviewing Erikson? I thought it was proved he was ill during the murder and could not have been the killer?” Tommy asked.

  “We only proved that he was not wearing the guard uniform. He didn’t murder Hutson, but I think he knows more than he has said.”

  They waited a little longer and then a tentative knock came at the office door. Clara called the person to enter and Maddock appeared with Erikson. Erikson looked deathly pale and Clara felt even more sure of the suspicion that had formed in her mind.

  “Mr Erikson,” Clara said lightly. “Are you fully recovered from your illness?”

  “Yes,” Erikson answered. “I don’t want to repeat it though.”

  “Naturally, look, I am not going to beat around the bush. I know that Audrey borrowed your guard costume and murdered Hutson while wearing it,” the bluntness of the statement had the result Clara had hoped for. What little colour was left in Erikson’s face drained away. “She planned on giving you an alibi by supplying you with something that would make you sick and prevent you from going on stage. That might appear an act of kindness, but I think it was more because she liked the idea of casting suspicion on the one other person who would fit your costume perfectly, Mervyn Baldry.

  “I am guessing, Mr Erikson, that Audrey convinced you to help her because she said she loved you, and you would do anything for her. She did not make you a murderer, she wanted that part for herself, but she did have you help her move the body. Maybe you also set the fire that distracted everyone and was meant to destroy the guard outfit.

  “Lastly, you were able to provide her with an alibi, saying you were with her in the alley. You did all this for her, put your own life at risk for her, because you loved her. Then, the moment it was all done, she cast you aside. You told me yourself, you were no longer of use to her.

  “What an odd statement to say, unless you were meaning that Audrey was only with you because she could gain something from your company. And what might that be? You could not help her get a part in this production, so what use did she have for you? Why did you feel she had taken what she needed from you and then ditched you?

  “I didn’t think at th
e time that the phrase was peculiar, I was too busy with other thoughts. Now I think I see what you meant. Audrey used you to help her commit murder. You served her because you adored her and thought she adored you back. Instead, she has abandoned you. How am I doing?”

  Erikson had his head down, his eye shut. He seemed defeated, but Clara doubted it was because of her words. He had been defeated since Audrey left him.

  “She has taken up with Donald,” Erikson said bitterly. “I should have seen that coming.”

  “And, am I right? Did she use you as an accomplice?”

  Erikson was silent.

  “You know, if you confess and give evidence against Audrey you will likely get a lighter sentence. If you do not, then it will take me longer to get what I need, but I will do it and then you will be cast as an accomplice, in fact, I would suspect Audrey will place most of the blame on you,” Clara hoped Erikson had a good sense of self-preservation. “I think you now need to decide if you really want to remain loyal to her, or if it is time to think of yourself.”

  Erikson took a deep sigh, his head nodded forward. After a long while he sniffed.

  “You are right, Miss Fitzgerald, she did use me,” Erikson’s eyes were wet and he looked scared. “I don’t want to hang!”

  “Then tell me everything,” Clara persisted. “A confession will go a long way.”

  “All right,” Erikson wiped his nose on his sleeve. “All right, I am going to make a clean breast of it. I’ll tell you the truth.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Erikson followed his statement that he would make a confession with silence and it seemed he regretted his abrupt declaration. Maddock looked uncomfortable, shuffled his feet and cast Clara a worried look. Clara remained patient; she guessed that Erikson was beginning to see the enormity of what had happened and what was about to tumble down on him, that required a few moments to consider.

  Erikson cleared his throat twice, then he seemed to come to a decision.

  “I want you to know that I was not involved in the murder. I didn’t even know what was going to happen, until after.”

  “Except Audrey borrowed your costume and gave you something to make you sick,” Clara pointed out.

  Erikson chewed on his lip, contemplating this clear flaw in his statement.

  “I didn’t know she borrowed my costume until afterwards and I swear I had no idea about the drug, I just thought I had eaten something bad. Audrey explained it to me later, how she had done it to make sure I could not be implicated in the crime. She had to borrow a costume to cover up her own and stop it getting covered in blood…” Erikson tailed off as his own words rang in his ears. “I didn’t want to be involved in a murder, but when she found me she was covered in blood and wearing my costume. She said if I didn’t help her she would refuse to say I had been with her in the alley and everyone would think it was me who did it, I just had to help.”

  Erikson was attempting to play the victim, implying he had been forced over a barrel, however, Clara was not so certain he had been quite so innocently used. She let him continue without questioning his statement, nonetheless.

  “It all happened in a flash. I had been in the toilet. I came back to my dressing room and there was Audrey. She had stripped off the guard costume and it was lying on the floor covered in blood. I asked her what had happened and she said she had argued with Stanley, there had been a scuffle and in a panic she had killed him,” Erikson looked miserable. “I’m not saying I believed that, but Audrey was hysterical, said we had to hide the body, said if we could just cast a few red herrings about, the police would never realise and it would be all right.

  “I didn’t have the strength to argue. The fire had already been started, everyone was outside. We had to use a blanket to carry him to the laundry room and it was an ordeal to get him in that hamper. I’ve never seen that much blood. I felt so sick looking at the mess.”

  “You didn’t really believe it was self-defence, did you?” Tommy said when Erikson finished. “I mean, once you saw the body…”

  “I had my doubts,” Erikson nodded, Clara still had that sense he was trying to put the best spin on his involvement and say what they wanted to hear. “But I was committed then, I couldn’t turn away. They would have seen to it that I was accused of the crime, I knew that even then.”

  “They?” Clara queried.

  Erikson shuffled his feet.

  “Donald Hutson,” he said. “He was there too.”

  Maddock gave a groan and fell back into a handy chair.

  “Donald helped move the body of his father?” Clara made sure she had heard correctly.

  “Yes,” Erikson said firmly, but he blinked rapidly and Clara recalled that he had been ditched for Donald. She was not sure he was being truthful.

  “I know the rest,” Clara said. “You placed Stanley in the laundry hamper, was it then that Audrey wrote the word thief on his apron?”

  Erikson nodded.

  “Then you all headed for the alley to be seen. In the confusion, who would remember you were late? Especially when you would verify for each other that you had been there the whole time.”

  Erikson gave another pathetic nod.

  “One thing, Mr Erikson, did Audrey explain her reasons for killing Stanley Hutson?”

  “No,” Erikson said, his voice suddenly filled with anger. “She put me in this position and I don’t even know why!”

  ~~~*~~~

  The next stage was to confront Audrey, but Clara wanted Park-Coombs present. Tommy agreed to hurry out and fetch him, while Maddock made sure Audrey did not leave the building. He said he would give her some story about needing to go over a few script changes he was contemplating. Erikson remained in the office, in a chair up one corner, looking condemned already. Clara did not have the inclination to talk to him. She felt he was a liar, that he was trying to make himself look good, or at least as good as he could muster under the circumstances. That made her angry.

  It took nearly an hour for the inspector to arrive back with Tommy. He looked harassed, but he greeted Clara politely.

  “Tommy says you have solved the Hutson murder?”

  “I have,” Clara said and she recapped the information Erikson had given her, while Tommy went to fetch Maddock and Audrey. Erikson listened to the recitation of his own confession with a growing look of despair. He could not meet anyone’s eyes and he slumped over in the chair, trying to hide his face in his hands.

  By the time Audrey arrived, the inspector had all the facts that Clara could give him. Audrey walked into the office and was startled at the sight of Clara and Park-Coombs. She did not truly react, however, until she realised Erikson was sitting in the corner and his expression was enough to tell her everything. She turned sharply on her heel, trying to leave, but Maddock and Tommy were blocking the way.

  “It’s over Audrey,” Clara told her calmly. “Perhaps you would like to sit down.”

  “Whatever he has told you is a lie!” Audrey pointed her finger angrily at Erikson.

  Clara did not respond. The actress looked around her at the hard faces and gave a scream of frustration.

  “What have you done you stupid fool!”

  Erikson cringed.

  “They said they knew everything.”

  “And you believed them?”

  “You ditched me Audrey!” Erikson found a sudden resolve and glowered at her. “I owed you nothing and I am not going to swing for you!”

  His bluntness stunned Audrey into silence. She turned her gaze to Clara, a look full of hate and rage.

  “Are you going to arrest me then?” She demanded.

  “I am,” Park-Coombs said steadily.

  “I just have a couple of questions for you Audrey,” Clara said. “I would like your side of the story. I have guessed a lot of it.”

  “Have you now?” Audrey had furious tears spilling from her eyes and her hands were clenched in fists. “Well aren’t you clever?”

  “You are the niec
e of Albert Long?” Clara asked.

  Audrey tried to make a noise that indicated that was surely obvious, however her emotions made it come out wrong.

  “Yes,” she said.

  “And you killed Stanley in revenge for your uncle’s suicide? You felt Hutson had stolen his chance to succeed on the stage?”

  This time Audrey laughed.

  “No,” she said. “You got that bit wrong. Not so clever, are you?”

  Clara did not hide her surprise.

  “You wrote ‘thief’ on Hutson’s apron,” she pointed out.

  “To confuse the police,” Audrey shrugged. “It was the first word that came to mind.”

  Clara felt as if the world had shook under her feet. The word had been intended as a red herring, instead, in a round-about fashion that Audrey could not have predicted, it had led straight back to her. A quirk of chance, that was all.

  “Then why did you kill him?” Clara asked her.

  Audrey tilted her head. Her tears were gone, now she was arrogant.

  “Because I wanted Donald and his father disliked me,” she said. “Donald and I, we are true loves. But his father said I was spiteful and only out for the prestige I could get through Donald. That was a lie, but Donald was too sweet to stand up to his father. So, I had to make the decision for us both. I got the part in this play and staged things. I meant for it to look like Stanley had committed suicide, that’s why I used the broken mirror shard. People would think it was done on impulse because of the man booing him.

  “Only, once he was dead I knew that wouldn’t work and I needed to buy myself time to think. I needed to put the blame on someone else. That’s when I moved him with Erikson to the laundry room, to hide the body for a bit.”

  “And that was when Donald helped you?” Clara asked.

  This time there was a look of genuine surprise on Audrey’s face.

  “What?” She turned on Erikson again. “What have you told them?”

  Erikson gave her a nasty look.

  “Throw me over for another man, will you? I shall show you! I told them Donald helped us dispose of the body.”