“Are you here to bring more donuts?” Poppy asked.
“No,” Heather said. “We’re here to ask you a few questions.”
“Because of you, I had to spend the night in jail,” Poppy said with venom.
“I’d argue it was because you were trying to move a murder victim’s body,” Amy said. “Not because of us.”
“Murder victim?” Poppy asked, losing some of her anger. “Willie wasn’t murdered.”
“I’m afraid he was,” Heather said.
“But I was watching the whole show and curtain call,” said Poppy. “Nobody touched him.”
“Do you mind if we come inside and talk to you?” Heather asked.
“I don’t know,” Poppy said, blocking the doorframe. “The last time I talked to you, the evening didn’t turn out well.”
“Well, if you’d like to avoid more jail time on a murder charge,” Amy said with a smile. “You might want to consider talking to us.”
Poppy relented and showed them inside. Heather was struck by how neat and orderly the home was. It lived up to the adage “A place for everything and everything in its place.” Though it was orderly, it was not devoid of personality. There were posters from various theater shows that she had worked on and comedy/tragedy mask decorations on the walls.
She showed them into her living room where they could all sit down. Poppy made a pointed effort of finishing to dry her hair.
“I’ve taken three showers today,” Poppy said. “I still don’t feel clean after that night in jail.”
“You’re sure it doesn’t have anything to do with moving a dead body?” Amy quipped.
Poppy turned away from her and faced Heather. “You said that Willie was murdered. Is that true or was it so that I would let you inside?”
“It’s true,” Heather said. “He was poisoned.”
“Poisoned?” asked Poppy. “But who would do that?”
“Do you have any ideas on that matter?” Heather asked.
Amy took her tablet out so she could take notes on it, and to stop her from making any more comments about moving the body. They didn’t seem to be getting them anywhere with their questions.
“I guess it had to be his wife,” Poppy said.
“Why do you say that?” asked Heather. “They didn’t get along?”
“I didn’t really know her,” Poppy said. “But Willie flirted and carried on like he wasn’t married.”
“Did you ever date him?” Heather prompted.
“No,” Poppy said. “And I only suggested his wife did it because she must have had access to poisoning him because they lived together.”
“Did Mrs. Sales ever come to the theater?” asked Heather.
“No,” Poppy said. “I don’t think so. She only came to the shows, not the rehearsals.”
“Then, I don’t think Mrs. Sales could be the killer,” said Heather.
Poppy stared at them, and her eyes widened. She dropped her towel onto the floor and gasped.
“You mean that the killer was inside the theater?” Poppy asked.
“Can you tell us about the teacup that Willie Sales used during the show?” Heather asked.
“What do you want to know about it? It was a prop. I bought it at a Thrift Store and chose that one because of the bright colors on it.”
“What was it filled with to drink?” Heather asked.
“Iced tea,” said Poppy. “I prepared it and kept it in the fridge. We used it in rehearsals after the actors learned their lines. And I was going to make it for each show too. I’d pour it into the teapot before we began a run of the show. During the play, Willie would pour the iced tea into his teacup.”
“Does anyone else touch the teapot onstage?” asked Heather.
“Only Pat. He pours himself some in another glass. His character is making fun of teacups at the time.”
“And do both men drink the iced tea?”
“Willie always did,” Poppy said. “But Pat just mimed it. He said he was a Germaphobe, so he just pretended to drink.”
“Interesting,” Amy said.
“Why?” asked Poppy.
“They were the actors who used the tea onstage,” Heather said. “Did anyone use it backstage?”
“No one is supposed to touch it,” Poppy said. “You’re only supposed to touch your own props. Not anybody else’s. I’ve said that since the first rehearsal.”
“But did anyone have access to it?” asked Heather.
“I don’t understand these questions,” Poppy said. She rose to her feet and backed away from them. Heather thought that Poppy did understand the nature of their questions, but didn’t want to admit it.
“We believe that Willie Sales was poisoned onstage with the iced tea,” Heather said. “And so we’d like to determine who could have put the poison inside.”
“You think it was someone in the cast?” Poppy asked. “No. I can’t believe that.”
“Did anyone have access to the tea beside the cast?” asked Heather.
“Well,” Poppy said. “The fire escape door is loose. Someone could have snuck inside through there and added the poison. And so anyone could have added the poison. Anyone at all.”
Heather nodded. She didn’t really think that it could have been anyone at all. She was fairly certain it was someone at the theater, but she didn’t want to upset Poppy anymore.
“Well, thank you for your time,” Heather said. “We’ll be in touch if we have any more questions.”
“Okay,” Poppy said. “I wish you luck with your investigation project. Wish me luck with mine.”
“What are you investigating?” Amy asked.
“Where we can have rehearsal until the theater opens up again,” Poppy said, sighing. “It seems impossible on such short notice.”
An idea suddenly occurred to Heather. “I might know a place…”
Rehearsal Space
Are you sure this is a good idea?” Amy asked.
She and Heather picked up the table and moved it to the side. They were clearing space in the seating area of Donut Delights so that the actors could rehearse there that night. Digby was moving the chairs against the wall as they worked on the tables.
“I think it’s a great idea,” Heather said. “We’ll be able to watch rehearsal close up and see if we can find any clues.”
“You don’t think it’s dangerous?” Amy asked with a grunt as they lifted a heavy table. “There’s a good chance there’s a killer in the cast.”
“No,” Heather said, as they set the table down. “Why reason could the killer have for coming after us?”
“Until we learn what the reason was for killing Willie Sales, we have no idea,” Amy pointed out. “And we are good investigators. The killer might poison us to stop us from getting too close.”
“Okay. That is a good point,” Heather admitted. “But Digby and Detective Peters are also in the cast. I think we’re safe.”
“What about having a poisoner so close to the food?” asked Amy.
“We’re not going to let anyone in the kitchen,” Heather said. “All our ingredients will be safe. We can clean the tables again if we’re really worried about safety.”
“All right,” Amy relented. “I guess I am interested to see this crazy play for myself. And to see Detective Peters’s acting debut.”
“And I’m excited to see what we can learn about the cast and crew as suspects,” said Heather.
“You’re sure it’s one of them?” Amy asked. “It couldn’t be someone who walked off the street and entered the theater through the loose door.”
“For someone to know about that loose door, they had to be familiar with the theater,” Heather pointed out. “And I think it also needed to be somebody who was familiar with the show.”
“Because they knew what Willie Sales would drink from?”
“Exactly,” Heather said. She clapped her hands together after they moved their last table, satisfied with the space they had made. “The killer h
ad to know the play to know that Willie Sales’s character Doug drinks from the teacup. He’s supposed to take a sip at a certain time. The killer also had to be reasonably certain that no one else would drink the poison.”
Digby finished moving the chairs and came up to them.
“Thanks for letting us rehearse here,” he said. “I could use all the practice I can get now that I’ve been thrown into the new role. Because I was the understudy, I have been studying it. But that’s not the same as practicing it all the time.”
“You’ll be great,” Heather assured him. “And I was just telling Amy how having the rehearsal here would have its own perks.”
“You think it will help you solve the case?” Digby asked.
“Hopefully,” Heather said. “We think it had to be somebody involved in the show.”
“Please don’t think it was me,” Digby said. “I didn’t kill anyone to get their part. I would have loved to be cast in this leading role originally, but stepping into it so close to opening night is stressing me out.”
“We know you couldn’t kill anybody,” Heather said. “You’re a good guy.”
“Besides, if you did, calling us about the body being moved wouldn’t have made sense,” Amy added.
“Thanks,” Digby said. “And I should just say this. It’s going to really bum me out if I learn all these lines and this whole part in a few days and then the show can’t go on. I know you’re both great investigators. I’ve seen evidence of that. Do you think you can solve this case in time for opening night?”
“We’ll certainly try,” Heather said.
Digby nodded, appeased. “Hey, are there any more of the Mint Crisp Donuts left?”
“There’s some in the kitchen that I was going to take home,” Heather said. “I didn’t leave any out for the cast because I thought they might be nervous about having a poisoner on the loose.”
Digby shrugged. “I’ll brave it for one of our donuts.”
He headed to the kitchen, but the front door opened at the same time. Detective Peters walked inside, holding his script very close to him.
“Is the director here?” he asked.
“Not yet,” said Heather. “Only Digby. The rest of the crew should be here soon. But this gives us a chance to talk before they arrive.”
“Sure,” Peters said. “Do you think I should use my natural voice? Or should I use one a bit deeper.”
“Well,” Heather began.
“Like this,” Peters said, letting his voice drop an octave.
“I’ve love to see you keep up that voice for a whole show,” Amy said.
“I meant that we could talk about the case,” Heather said.
“Oh. Right,” Peters said, looking sheepish.
“Did you and Ryan find the teapot or the glass that Pat uses on stage?”
“We couldn’t find the teapot,” Peters said. “We’re not sure if this means that the killer got rid of it or not. But we did find the glass. It was empty. Ryan didn’t smell the poison like he did last time, but that might be because the tea wasn’t still it in. We’re going to have it tested for poison too.”
The director Stanley entered the shop, and they stopped talking about murder. It was almost time for rehearsal.
Donut Theater
Everyone, let us first have a round of applause for the lovely woman who gave us a rehearsal space tonight,” Stanley suggested.
The cast and crew clapped for Heather. She blushed. She didn’t expect praise, especially when half the reason why she had invited them was to see if someone was a killer.
“And now,” Stanley said. “If you’d like to hear more of that applause, cheering for your performances, you are going to have to work for it. We have a short amount of time left and two actors in new roles. Let’s make the most of our time.”
Heather watched the cast as they got to their places. The young woman was wearing red lipstick again but was sitting in the corner, looking sad. Norma was looking at the time on her watch in an annoyed way. Pat was standing by a table, ready to pretend it was a door and make his entrance.
“Offstage” Poppy had her script open, ready to tell the new actors proper places to move to at the proper time. Stanley set a chair in what would be front row, center and was watching the action.
Digby was onstage playing the role of Doug. He was strumming a guitar. Detective Peters hesitantly made his entrance.
“Hello there, neighbor,” he said using the same deep voice he had showed off before.
Amy tried not to laugh in the audience.
“Wait a moment,” Stanley said. “Detective… I’m sorry. What’s your real name? Or your stage name?”
“My name is Miguel Peters. I hadn’t thought of a stage name. Maybe I could come up with one. How about M.P. Detective? Or Pete Guel-detect?”
“Miguel,” Stanley said, ignoring his attempts at stage names. “Try using your own voice. You have such a nice voice as it is. I’d like to hear it.”
“Okay,” Peters said, nodding. However, this time he was quiet when he said, “Hello there, neighbor.”
“Stop,” Stanley said. “You’re going to have to be louder, Miguel. But there’s no need to be nervous.”
Peters cleared his throat and then said his line very normally. The third time was the charm. Heather wanted to clap but was afraid it would sound condescending. She settled for smiling in case he looked up at her.
Then, it was Digby’s turn to respond with a line. “Ello zere to oo.”
“Stop,” Stanley said. “Digby, what was that?”
“I was trying my own interpretation of the Doug character,” Digby explained. “I thought maybe he would have a French accent.”
“No,” Stanley said. “No accents.”
Heather and Amy exchanged a look. This might end up being a very long night if there was a stop after every line.
However, after the accent was abandoned, Digby started to feel very much like the Doug character. He was charming but distanced from others.
Peters still seemed nervous, but seemed to gain confidence with a monologue from neighbor #2.
“I know they say the grass is always greener on the other side of the fence,” he said. “But I’m happy to report that is wrong. My grass is much more chipper than yours. And it’s almost jade. I think perhaps you should add more fertilizer to your lawn. We want the neighborhood to look nice, don’t we?”
Heather found the rehearsal process interesting. Stanley was able to get the actors to think about their characters, and even in the Donut Delights’ space their movement was interesting to watch.
It was also interesting to watch the actors when they weren’t in character. Eve with the red lipstick stayed close to tears the whole night. Pat was very serious about his work and didn’t even smile in between scenes. Norma was using her time off stage to complain. Mostly, she was muttering to herself, but when it came time to bring out the teapot (which today was an imaginary prop), Norma couldn’t contain herself.
“What’s the point of all this, Stanley?” she asked. “We don’t have our stage. The show is ruined. Willie ruined us all when he died.”
“Well, it’s not like he chose to do so,” Digby said.
“Didn’t he?” Norma asked. “That would be the sort of thing he would do. The most dramatic way to grab attention.”
“Willie didn’t control it,” Poppy said. “The police think he was murdered.”
“Even more dramatic!” Norma said. “Why did he always have to upstage me?”
“Why don’t we call it a night?” Stanley said, addressing the group. “We’ve all had a long day. We still have a lot of work to do before we’re finished. We could all use the rest.”
The cast agreed and began to gather up their things. Heather assured them that they could use the space again in the evening after the donut shop closed as long as they needed.
Then, she gestured to Amy. The two women met Norma before she could leave with the rest of the cas
t.
“What do you want?” Norma asked.
“To tell you how good we thought you were in the play,” Heather said, brightly.
“Oh,” Norma said. “Thank you. I’m glad somebody appreciates me.”
“You were the best actor in the play,” Heather continued. “And we have friends in the show, so we’re not just saying that.”
Norma smiled. “Really, you are too kind.”
“I hope everyone will get to see this wonderful show and how great you are in it,” Heather said. “But, of course, the murder needs to get solved before the theater can open again.”
Norma sighed. “Even in his death, Willie is making a fuss.”
“He made a fuss while he was alive too?” Heather prompted.
“I don’t think the others will tell you,” Norma said. “But he could be a difficult actor to work with. He would accuse me of cutting off his lines. Can you believe that? If I start to say a line early, it is because something is moving me to do so. It’s organic for the character. He was always trying to stifle my performance.”
“That must have been frustrating,” Heather said.
“Oh. It was infuriating,” Norma agreed. “Of course, having this understudy step up right before the show is trying too. I hope he can support me properly onstage.”
“Maybe it will work out better for you with Digby as the main character?” Heather suggested.
“I’m sure, in the end, it won’t matter,” Norma said. “I’ll still be stunning in my performance.”
Amy looked down at the ground to stop herself from rolling her eyes.
“Do you know anyone who would have wanted to hurt Willie Sales?” Heather asked.
“It’s thoroughly surprising to me that he got himself murdered,” Norma said. “I don’t know who would want to kill him. Though I suppose I do know one juicy piece of gossip about the deceased. Maybe it could be a motive.”
“What is it?” asked Heather.
“Willie was cheating on his wife with somebody in our cast.”
“By process of elimination, I’m guessing it was Eve?” Amy said.
Mint Crisp & Murder Page 4