Death in the Stars

by Frances Brody

  I hadn’t thought about it, but now that she mentioned it, the truth came home. ‘You mean those who came back from war were no longer able to perform?’

  She nodded. ‘Jarrod and I met as child performers in this very theatre. I sang and danced. Jarrod did acrobatic tricks, and he juggled.’ She smiled. ‘You’d have thought him made of rubber in those days.’

  ‘He was a performer, too?’

  ‘Not really. This was when we were kids. I can’t remember all the details but the theatre put on auditions for children, and then a show. I expect it was a wheeze to bring in a good audience of lots of parents and aunties and uncles. It was the summertime. Jarrod was home from Giggleswick School and I was helping out at home with the ice cream making. We weren’t paid to be in the show so it was a bit difficult for me as I was meant to be pulling my weight for the family. It was different, later on, when I was a child in the panto and paid each week.’

  ‘Who taught you?’

  ‘I always danced and sang but it’s thanks to Beryl’s parents that I had some training. She and I started in the infants’ class together at St Charles’s. We lived on Grimston Street, ten kids in our family. She lived on Valley Street and was an only child. We were always back and forth. I could find my way to her house blindfolded, along the ginnel onto Cherry Row, over Green Road and up through the streets. Her dad was an engineer, so they were well off. Her mam and dad sent her to singing and dancing lessons, only she wouldn’t go alone. She said she would go if I did too. Her dad paid for us both.’

  ‘And you were the one who succeeded.’

  ‘Beryl didn’t mind. She never was all that keen. It was her parents’ idea that she should learn tap and ballet and singing, to brighten her up a bit they said. I suppose it was to make up for her being an only child.’

  ‘So she never took to the stage?’

  ‘Oh, the odd time, when we were kids, that’s all.’

  ‘And what about Jarrod? Were you and he childhood sweethearts?’

  ‘Nothing like that. We weren’t in touch for a few years. When I was nineteen I was very lucky and landed a principal boy role in panto.’ She smiled. ‘It was thanks to my singing and my legs rather than acting talent. Jarrod was just seventeen and writing reviews. He came along to review the show, and remembered me. He was waiting at the stage door on opening night.’

  ‘Selina, I have to ask you something.’

  ‘I know. You have to ask me if Billy and I were lovers.’

  ‘Were you?’

  ‘No, but there were rumours that we were and we never bothered to deny it. Rumours don’t deserve denial.’

  ‘If Jarrod heard these rumours, who would have been the Iago who whispered them?’

  ‘I don’t know. Perhaps I’m wrong. I don’t know what goes on in his head any more. It was one thing when he wanted to keep out of sight because of being self-conscious. His face is disfigured, on the left side. Half a mask was made for him, a very good mask but he doesn’t like to wear it. It’s hot and itchy. Even so he was on a more even keel than Billy in lots of ways, funny, enjoying his writing, saying writing was what he was meant to do and that with half his face gone he had a good excuse not to socialise.

  ‘A few months ago everything changed. He became angry and irrational. He’d have sudden outbursts of temper and make accusations, being horrible to people, pushing passers-by off the pavement if they came too close. Staff at the sanatorium became concerned about him. He stopped going there, for his massages and everything that made his life bearable. He had moments of being the old Jarrod, when he was writing, or when some sort of calmness came over him. I don’t know how closely you read what he left for me, but one of those songs was about a man who could only live underground, in tunnels because he fears he is affected by the moon.’

  ‘Did Jarrod know that you asked Billy to take his place and come to Giggleswick today?’

  ‘I suppose he knew I would take someone else and Billy would be the obvious choice.’

  ‘Because?’

  ‘Because we are such old friends.’

  We had left the door open. Beryl came in. ‘What on earth are you doing in here, sitting in the cold when there’s a nice little fire burning in the grate in your room?’

  I stood. ‘It’s my fault. I was interested in seeing round, and taking a look at Billy’s room.’

  ‘Well you’ve looked, so frame yourselves and come where you’ll be comfortable. I’ve brought you drinks.’

  ‘We’ll be along in a minute, Beryl.’ Selina turned to me. ‘Give me a few moments, to say goodbye to Billy.’

  I nodded and left the room, following Beryl back down the landing, leaving Selina to remember Billy, and to say goodbye to her lover. She was doing the right thing, denying her and Billy’s affair. The only way to hug a secret close is never to tell a soul. If one other person knows, then there is no secret.

  Beryl looked back along the landing for Selina.

  Until now, I had thought Beryl older than Selina because of the way she sometimes behaved like a mother hen. Mother hens could be extraordinarily protective of their chicks.

  Twenty

  The Mystery Man

  When we went back into Selina’s room, Beryl began to gather up the dishes and plates.

  I helped and took the tray, so she was not able to hurry away. ‘It was a good supper, Beryl, my compliments to the chef.’

  ‘That would be young Babs Powolski. She made the soup this morning.’

  ‘Do you have a minute, Beryl?’

  ‘I have lots of minutes.’

  ‘I believe I saw Jarrod tonight. He came to the door of the royal box.’

  Beryl picked up a spoon that we had missed. ‘Jarrod’s become our mystery man. No one sees him come or go, through the actors’ door or through the main entrance, even though he isn’t easy to miss.’

  I didn’t want any more mystery than already existed. ‘If he is self-conscious about his appearance, isn’t it understandable that he should slip in to see the show, unnoticed?’

  Beryl agreed. ‘Completely understandable. Why shouldn’t he come to see the show and hear his own songs? Only Harry said he didn’t come in at the stage door. Front of house manager swears one of his people would have noticed Mr Compton.’

  ‘Does Jarrod usually come in person to bring songs to Selina?’

  She thought for a moment. ‘Not usually. He has been known to send a song through the post. He sometimes waits until she visits him.’

  There was no subtle way of asking the next question, but I wanted to ask before Selina returned. ‘This may sound odd, but the last thing Billy was seen to do was to light a cigar. I’m wondering whether it was for some special occasion, or whether he usually smoked a cigar.’

  She looked at me blankly. ‘He wouldn’t normally, not unless someone gave it to him.’

  ‘I suppose someone might have, at the party.’

  ‘It’s possible. Selina doesn’t let people smoke indoors because of her sensitive throat, but there was a box of cigars on the veranda.’

  ‘Yes. That could be it.’ I imagined a box of cigars, with at least one laced with poison and sincerely hoped that was not it.

  ‘Do you think it upset Jarrod that Selina invited Billy to come to Giggleswick?’

  ‘I shouldn’t think so. Jarrod knows that Billy liked to gather material for his act.’

  ‘Would you have gone, given the opportunity?’

  She brushed away the question. ‘I wasn’t asked. Selina always likes a male escort.’

  Her answer intrigued me. I wanted to know who else might in the past have played the role of escort, perhaps Douglas Dougan or Floyd Lloyd.

  At that moment, Selina returned. She stood in the doorway and stretched, rolling her head, making cracking sounds in her joints. ‘I wonder if Jarrod was in the theatre to hear me tell people about Billy? They were so close, together through most of the war.’

  Beryl shut her eyes as if the thought of Jarrod heari
ng about Billy in a public announcement didn’t bear thinking about. ‘If he did, where has the poor lad gone? It could turn his mind altogether to hear such news.’

  Selina did that thing people sometimes do of talking as if this is a continuing conversation rather than something that has been going round and round in their own head. Speaking as if the other person already knows what they are thinking. ‘I don’t believe he’ll harm me. These dreams I’ve had.’ She stopped abruptly.

  ‘What dreams?’ Beryl asked.

  ‘Beryl, don’t go yet. I’ll show Kate the cuttings.’ Selina opened the top drawer of a bureau. ‘I’ve kept these cuttings because I had a feeling, an instinct. I don’t know what else to call it. Two horrible things happened and I knew there would be another, and that it might never end.’

  She handed me the newspaper cuttings with the information that Mrs Sugden had discovered at the newspaper library. By now I was beginning to feel dead on my feet and overloaded with information. I sat down and read the pieces. Douglas Dougan, knocked down by a tram. Floyd Lloyd killed on stage when a sandbag dropped from the flies.

  The items had been cut out of newspapers, but with no title for the newspaper and no date. They were less informative than the transcripts Mrs Sugden had shown me earlier.

  ‘They’re distressing incidents. Is there any reason to regard them as other than accidents?’

  ‘Dougie wouldn’t walk under a tram. And why, if a sandbag dropped from the flies, would it be precisely where Floyd was rehearsing?’

  Beryl set down the trays she had been about to whisk away. She drew up a small chair and sat down. ‘It’s a rum business.’

  I felt sure Selina and Beryl had discussed this already and so asked, ‘What do you make of it, Beryl? Do you also think Mr Dougan’s and Mr Lloyd’s deaths weren’t accidents?’

  She tucked her hands into her cardigan sleeves. ‘I did wonder with Dougie that it might have been drink. It was after the interval.’

  Selina disagreed. ‘A person doesn’t walk under a tram just because he’s had a drink. If that were true we’d lose the entire male population over three Saturday nights.’

  ‘You have instincts, Selina, but you know my opinion. I can’t see that either of those deaths was anything other than a bad accident. Dougie liked a drink and I wouldn’t put it past him to have misjudged crossing the road or been so caught up with his own thoughts that he didn’t see the tram coming.’

  ‘What about Floyd, who never touched a drop? He signed the temperance pledge as a boy. All he did was seat himself in his usual place on stage to rehearse his new routine with Manny Piccolo.’

  ‘Ah, now that’s another matter. If you ask me they shouldn’t have let that theatre open its doors again after that. Something was amiss. Probably some stage hand who’d had one too many and then realised there was a frayed rope or some such and managed to rectify it before the investigation began. Drink’ll be at the back of it, mark my words.’

  I did mark her words. If her explanation for both accidents was alcohol, she could be right, or she could be completely wrong.

  Beryl looked from Selina to me. ‘Selina has instincts, uncanny instincts, and so I’m prepared to give her opinions weight, but I don’t share them.’

  Instinct is a marvellous thing. It cannot be explained and yet it cannot be ignored.

  Selina put the cuttings back in the envelope and placed it on the table by my chair.

  ‘Were those deaths really accidents?’ she asked, as if questioning a well-informed coroner.

  I decided against mentioning that Mrs Sugden and Mr Sykes were already on the case. ‘If you want me to find out more, I will try to do so.’

  ‘Yes, that’s exactly what I want you to do.’

  ‘Can you think of any connections between Floyd Lloyd and Douglas Dougan, or any explanation of circumstances? Did they have enemies in common?’

  ‘Neither man had an enemy in the world. They both started young in the business. We all played together a number of times in the early days. Their acts stayed the same over the years but the public changed. Neither was as popular as he once was but that’s true for lots of the performers in our business.’ She crossed her arms over her bosom and hugged herself.

  Beryl picked up a shawl and put it around Selina’s shoulders. ‘There’s nothing you can do about that. Hard times, it’s hard times all round. No one resents your success. There’s others would turn their backs on old timers and falling stars.’ Beryl shot me an appealing glance. ‘Selina is doing this tour out of the goodness of her heart. She doesn’t need to tour the old music halls. She has offers, big offers, but her generosity gets the better of her.’

  Selina squeezed her dresser’s hand. ‘I can’t turn my back on the audience that made me, or the people I looked up to when I was a kid.’

  It struck me that if she took up the offer of Trotter Brockett’s London show, or her husband’s plans for the silver screen, then she would be bound to move on.

  Beryl gave an impatient tut. ‘Your audience will follow you wherever you go. Your friends will urge you on. God gave you talents. You’ve done enough with your charity. Leave the good works to the Salvation Army.’

  She picked up the trays and I went to open the door for her. When I came back to the hearth, Selina was tapping the little acrobat, making her twirl.

  ‘Selina, am I right in thinking that you suspect your husband of some kind of mania?’

  She lowered her head. ‘I want to be sure… I can’t say this. You see, Jarrod’s wounds, the physical wounds are obvious. I want to know that he’s not… that he wouldn’t be capable of murder.’ The little acrobat slowed, and then was still. ‘Jarrod and I married young. What we had was so different, so unforgettable that there’s still this unbroken thread. He’s in my dreams and I’m in his. I believe the balance of his mind is disturbed and that he’d somehow imagined things about me and Billy and was jealous of Billy.’

  ‘And the other two performers, Douglas Dougan and Floyd Lloyd, were you close to them? Might Jarrod have imagined things about them?’

  ‘Not in the same way, for heaven’s sake. Dougie was a good friend. We spent a lot of time together. Floyd was like an uncle, always looking out for me, full of advice.’ She smiled. ‘Not always good advice. I took very little notice of him. He didn’t realise that the theatre has changed. We all got tipsy together often enough. There was nothing romantic between me and Dougie or me and Floyd.’

  ‘Would that friendship be enough to make Jarrod jealous?’

  ‘If something in Jarrod’s head has turned him peculiar, then who knows how he thinks or what he might do?’

  ‘With Jarrod in Bridlington and you touring, you must see each other so rarely.’

  ‘He has his motorcycle. I have my car, and the trains. We always managed to see each other until recently. Every August we go away with Reggie, somewhere remote where we can be ourselves. Reggie has never minded that his father is disfigured. He knows he was a soldier. But I don’t know what we’ll do this year, now that Jarrod can turn at a moment’s notice. I wouldn’t want Reggie to see him like that.’

  Part of me knew that she only wanted one answer: that she was wrong. But what if she was right? What if she was more than right and yet was avoiding the harsh truth, that her jealous and angry husband was a murderer?

  ‘You want me to investigate your husband, and his links to the deaths.’

  ‘I’ll pay you well, Kate. I’m wealthier than I ever dreamed, but I have just one condition.’

  ‘And that is?’

  ‘If you find out that my worst fears are true, come to me first. Don’t go to the police.’

  I hesitated. Even if it were me alone, I couldn’t agree to that condition, but Jim Sykes is a former policeman with a policeman’s way of looking at the world. If he arrived at the truth first, it would be impossible to rein him in. ‘I would like to say yes but circumstances may make that difficult.’

  ‘What circumstances?’<
br />
  ‘Another life might be at stake, your life.’

  She gave a dismissive gesture. ‘If it’s my life then I might take the chance, or I would if not for my son. I want to see him grow up. If it’s another’s life then that would be different. But will you agree to that condition as far as possible?’

  ‘I will.’

  Now that she had mentioned her son, this was the moment for me to pass on the message: that Giggleswick School would have no place for him. The fact that she had considered sending Reggie to Giggleswick School now explained why she had gained an invitation. I had thought it was because of her fame, fortune, and reputation for generosity.