After a second or two he went back into the dressing room and shut the door. From the stage came the sound of music played on the two pianos by Billy Dale and Beryl Cameron and then the door at the end of the passage — the door that led out on to the pier — opened and a girl came hesitantly in.
It was the red-haired girl in black.
She stood for a moment just inside the door looking rather uncertainly about her. Then she began to walk slowly along the passage, pausing every now and again outside each of the dressing room doors. She had passed the door of Wayne’s room when he came out and she turned in alarm.
‘Oh,’ she began nervously. ‘Excuse me, but...’
‘Are you looking for someone?’ he asked.
She nodded.
‘I — I’ve called for a small packet...’
‘Was it you who threw it into our compartment?’ inquired Tony.
‘Yes,’ she answered eagerly. ‘Have you got it? Can I have it, please?’
‘Well, it’s not here...’
Her face dropped.
‘Not here?’
‘No, it’s at my lodgings.’
‘When can I have it?’ she asked. ‘I must have it back as soon as possible.’
‘Can you come in during the evening show?’
‘Yes, yes.’
‘I’ll bring it down with me.’ He looked at her curiously. ‘Why did you throw it into our compartment?’
‘I — I was afraid,’ she answered. ‘I — I can’t explain...’
‘Afraid of what?’ he demanded. ‘Something...’ She breathed the word so that it was almost inaudible. ‘Something — or someone?’
She looked quickly up and down the passage.
‘I’ll come back,’ she said hurriedly. ‘I — I can’t stop. I’ll come tonight. You won’t forget to bring it?’
‘I won’t forget,’ he said.
She gave him a brief smile and almost ran down the passage to the stage door. The next second she had gone and the door banged shut behind her.
Tony stared after her a wrinkle of perplexity between his brows. Then he turned and went up to the stage.
*
‘Well,’ Andy McKay came bustling into the room he shared with Billy and Tony, ‘that’s the first show over.’
He sat down in front of the cracked mirror and began to remove his makeup.
‘I had a visitor during the show this afternoon,’ remarked Tony.
Billy looked up with a grin from the basin where he was washing his hands.
‘Don’t tell me you’ve enslaved some beauteous damsel already?’
‘Well, she was quite pretty,’ admitted Wayne.
‘Some people have all the luck,’ sighed Billy. He reached for a towel and began to dry his hands.
‘The only person I ever seem to enslave is Beryl,’ said Andy.
‘Poor old Beryl. She does chase you around, doesn’t she?’ said Billy. ‘What was your girl like, Tony?’
‘You’ve seen her,’ said Tony. ‘The red-haired girl in black — on the train — remember?’
Billy threw down the towel and picked up his tie.
‘Did she come to claim the packet?’ he asked.
Tony nodded.
‘Did ye give it to her?’ asked Andy.
‘I haven’t got it here.’
‘So it was she who threw it into our compartment,’ grunted Billy. ‘Just my luck that I wasn’t around when she came.’
‘She’s coming back this evening,’ said Tony, reaching for his shirt.
‘I’m stuck to that confounded piano all through the show.’ Billy made a grimace at himself in the mirror. ‘Did she say why she got rid of the packet on us?’
‘She admitted that she was afraid...’
‘Of what?’ put in Andy.
Tony shook his head.
‘She didn’t say.’
‘It’s a jolly queer business altogether,’ said Billy.
‘Sharon was right — about the girl,’ said Andy.
‘I wonder,’ murmured Tony thoughtfully.
‘Well, of course she was,’ said Billy in surprise. ‘The girl came to claim the packet, didn’t she?’
‘Anybody can claim anything,’ said
Tony. ‘If you don’t know who the rightful owner is.’
‘Aye, I see what you mean,’ said Andy. He went over to the basin and began washing.
‘For all I know,’ Tony went on, ‘she may be quite genuine. But, as you said just now, it’s a jolly queer business. Did she get rid of the packet because she was afraid someone would try and take it from her? Or did somebody else get rid of it because they were afraid she was after it? See what I mean?’
‘Are you going to give it to her?’ asked Billy.
‘She’ll have to do a little explaining first. I’ve an idea that this packet business is tied up with something much bigger.’
‘Ye’ve been reading too many detective stories,’ said Andy raising a dripping face from the basin and groping for his towel. ‘Ye’ll probably find it’s simple enough.’
‘I expect you’re right, Andy,’ said Tony. ‘But I’m curious.’
‘You know what happened to the cat that was curious?’ said Billy. ‘I’m going to get some tea — at the cafe on the front, if I can get in. I wonder what the girls are going to do?’
It appeared that they all had the same idea.
‘What about you, Andy?’ asked Beryl. ‘Are you coming?’
Andy shook his head.
‘I’m going round to the box office to see what the bookings are like,’ he said hastily.
‘The bookings! He dreams about them!’ wailed Beryl.
When they had all gone laughing and joking out the stage door, Howard Gilbert came cautiously out of his dressing room. He waited for a little while to make sure that they had gone and then he went to the stage door and opened it. He uttered a soft whistle and a short, thin little man slipped quickly inside.
‘Be careful,’ whispered Gilbert, ‘McKay’s about somewhere.’
‘Somethin’ went wrong,’ muttered the little man.
‘I know,’ said Gilbert. ‘Come into my dressing room.’
The evening performance of ‘The Crimson Ramblers’ was nearing its end. Sharon, coming down from the stage for a quick change, ran into Tony in the passage.
‘Has the girl been yet?’ she asked.
‘No — not yet,’ he answered.
‘The show’s nearly over...’
‘Perhaps she’s in front,’ he said. ‘She’ll come round after, I expect.’
She nodded and hurried on into her dressing room. Tony went on up to the stage. When he had finished his number with Vera he came back to his dressing room and sat down to enjoy a cigarette until he would be wanted for the finale. Andy came in.
‘Ye’ve no got rid of the packet yet?’ he asked.
‘No, she hasn’t turned up.’
‘Curious. I thought she was anxious to get it back,’ said Andy.
‘She was...’
‘Ah, weel, there’s time yet,’ said Andy, looking at himself in the mirror and
making a dab here and there at his makeup. ‘Did she no say what her name was?’
‘No, she was off like a startled rabbit when she found I hadn’t got the packet here.’
There was a gentle tap at the dressing-room door.
‘Here she is now,’ said Andy and called: ‘Come in. But it was not the red-haired girl in black who entered. It was a very large, enormously fat man, with jowls that hung down on either side of his face in flabby lumps of flesh. His small, beady eyes were sunk deeply in rolls of fat and Wayne thought he had never seen such an altogether unpleasant-looking person.
‘Excuse me,’ said the newcomer in a high-pitched voice, ‘Do I intrude?’
‘Aye, ye do! What do you want?’ said Andy.
The fat man laughed. It was a jerky, spasmodic laugh, without mirth behind it.
‘My niece was to have called t
his evening, sir,’ he said. ‘To collect a small packet...’
Tony stared at him.
‘Your niece?’ he repeated.
The fat man inclined his head.
‘My niece, sir. Unfortunately she has been detained and has sent me in her stead. Perhaps you would be good enough to inform me, sir, to whom I apply?’
‘Nothing doing,’ said Tony.
The fat man raised his eyebrows.
‘I beg your pardon, sir?’
‘The packet you mention is in my possession,’ said Tony, ‘but I have no intention of parting with it except to its rightful owner.’
‘But, my dear sir, I am its rightful owner,’ asserted the fat man. ‘My niece was merely acting on my behalf.’
‘Look here, Mr. — Mr. — ’ began Tony. ‘My name is Beatal, sir — Simon Beatal.’
‘We’ve a lot of your relations in the Dome,’ said Andy.
Simon Beatal turned towards him.
‘I fail to comprehend, sir,’ he said. ‘Black ones,’ said Andy with a chuckle. ‘Ye’re a vurry prolific family.’
For a moment there was a flash of rage in the small blackcurranty eyes. But it was gone in a second and was replaced with jerky laughter.
‘You are pleased to joke, sir,’ said Simon Beatal.
‘I’m not at all sure, Mr. Beatal,’ said Tony, ‘that even your niece is the rightful owner. The packet came into my possession in rather peculiar circumstances.’
‘The foolishness of an imaginative and highly strung girl, sir,’ explained Simon Beatal smoothly. Nothing more, I assure you. The contents of the packet are of a certain value. My niece received the impression on the train — purely mistaken, I am convinced — that she was being followed. There was a man who seemed to be watching her very closely, whom she described as of a criminal type. No doubt he was merely interested in her physical attractions. There are, I believe, such men, sir. In a sudden panic she... Well, you know what she did, sir.’ Tony shook his head.
‘That’s just it, I don’t,’ he said obstinately. Anybody could have thrown that packet into our compartment.
The expression on Simon Beatal’s face hardened. His eyes were like two little black pebbles.
‘Come, come, sir,’ he said impatiently. ‘I respect your scruples. But don’t carry them too far. That packet is mine and I must request you to give it me.’
‘If you want it you’ll have to call at the nearest police station,’ said Tony.
Simon Beatal was startled.
‘Police station, sir?’ he echoed.
‘I’m taking it round there as soon as the show’s over,’ said Tony. ‘I intended to tell your niece the same, if she’d turned up.’
The expression of the fat man’s face was malignant.
‘I warn you, sir,’ he almost snarled, ‘that I am not the sort of man to be trifled with.’
‘I’m not trifling,’ retorted Tony briefly.
‘We’ll be late for the finale,’ broke in Andy searching among the litter on the dressing table.
‘Ye’ll have to go, Mr. Slug...’
‘Beatal, sir.’
‘Aye I knew it was something that crawled. Where did I put that big prop cigar. The one that lights up at the end.’
‘I haven’t seen it, Andy,’ said Tony.
‘I’ll have to get a spare one out of the prop basket,’ cried Andy. He rushed over to the door. ‘Come on!’
‘Your friend is facetious, sir,’ said Simon Beatal, ‘but I assure you there is nothing humorous in this matter.’
‘I’m inclined to agree with you,’ answered Tony grimly.
‘If I could persuade you to listen to reason, sir...’
‘I’ve no time to listen to anything,’ snapped Tony.
There was a sudden sharp cry from the passage outside as he opened the door. Andy, his face strained even beneath the makeup, was staring into one of the big prop baskets.
‘Tony... Tony... For God’s sake come here,’ he called in a horrified voice. ‘Come here — quickly...’
‘What’s the matter?’ Tony hurried over to his side.
‘Look...’ Andy stabbed a finger at the interior of the basket and Tony looked.
In it lay the red-haired girl in black.
‘She’s dead,’ whispered Andy huskily. ‘She’s been strangled...’
3
From the direction of the stage came a burst of applause and then the two pianos began a catchy melody.
Andy dropped the lid of the basket, shutting out the horrible sight.
‘That’s the finale,’ he cried. ‘Come on. We’ll be off...’
‘But, Andy...’ began Tony. But Andy wasn’t listening. He gripped Tony by the arm and pulled him away up the passage.
Simon Beatal stood watching them until they were out of sight and then he went over to the basket and raised the lid...
*
‘What was the matter?’ asked Sharon as they all came trooping down from the stage after the finale. ‘You two were nearly off...’
‘Yes, what’s up, Andy?’ asked Billy. ‘You and Tony look all dithery.’
Tony pressed his arm.
‘Shut up,’ he whispered.
‘Sharon and I are going to the fun-fair,’ said Vera. ‘Coming, Billy?’
‘Rather, I like fun-fairs,’ said Billy.
‘You and Tony coming, Andy?’ asked Sharon.
‘We’ll no be able to,’ answered Andy. ‘We’ve some vurry important business to attend to.’
‘Don’t you ever relax, Andy?’ said Beryl.
‘I can’t relax at the moment,’ said Andy. He almost dragged Tony into their dressing room and shut the door.
‘We ought to get hold of the police, Andy,’ said Tony. ‘There will be trouble if we don’t...’
‘Aye,’ agreed Andy. ‘I didna want to say anything before the...’
Billy came in quickly.
‘Now look here,’ he said. ‘What’s it all about? What’s up?’
‘It’s the girl,’ explained Tony. ‘The girl in black...’
‘What about her?’ demanded Billy.
Tony told him.
‘Good Heavens!’ exclaimed Billy when he had finished. ‘This is horrible. Strangled... in the prop basket... I say,’ he added suspiciously. ‘You’re not pulling my leg, are you?’
‘Go and look for yourself,’ said Andy. He opened the door and they all went out into the passage. The rest of the company were changing and it was deserted.
Andy pointed to the basket.
‘There ye are,’ he said.
Billy went over to the basket and raised the lid.
The next moment he had dropped it with a hoot of laughter.
‘You didn’t expect to take me in with that, did you?’ he said. ‘For a moment I really believed you...’
‘Do ye mind the waxworks — opposite the stage door?’ said Andy. ‘There was the figure of a girl outside the booth to advertise the show.’
‘A girl in a summer frock,’ said Tony.
‘Aye,’ agreed Andy. ‘Well. That’s it — in the basket.’
‘Why did he do it?’ asked Billy. ‘It must have been risky?’
‘It was worth it,’ answered Tony grimly. ‘It ties our hands completely. What d’you suppose the police’ud say if we went to them now with our story of a strangled girl in a basket? And then showed them that dummy.’
‘They’d no believe a word of it,’ said Andy.
‘Exactly. That was the idea,’ said Tony.
‘But he couldn’t have carried the real body off the pier...’ began Billy.
‘He didn’t have to,’ interrupted Tony. ‘There’s a high tide.’
They looked at each other, and Billy gave a little shiver.
In the dressing room next door, Howard Gilbert was examining a small black hat. Attached to it was a long red hair. He removed the hair carefully, opened a large travelling trunk, put the hat inside and locked the trunk. He looked worried and anx
ious as he began to remove his makeup.
‘Look here,’ said Billy, putting on his jacket. ‘I just can’t believe all this, you know. You two must have made a mistake.’
‘There was no mistake,’ said Andy emphatically. ‘Besides the dead girl in the basket didna have the same dress on as that dummy. She was dressed in black!’
‘But,’ persisted Billy, ‘who killed her, when did they kill her, and how did she get in the basket?’
‘How do I know?’ retorted Tony impatiently. ‘She was there, that’s all I know.’ ‘Perhaps she wasn’t dead...’
‘She was,’ said Andy. ‘She had a scarf tied tightly round her neck.’
‘She might not have been dead,’ argued Billy. ‘She may have recovered and walked away herself.’
‘What do you suppose she was doing in the basket at all?’ asked Tony sarcastically. ‘Playing hide and seek?’
‘Well, you may not be so far out, eh?’ said Billy. ‘She was scared, wasn’t she? She may have been hiding from somebody. This fat chap, what’s-his-name...’
‘How do you know he was fat?’ asked Tony quickly.
Billy looked a little confused.
‘You told me — or else it was Andy,’ he said.
There was a tap at the door and Vera’s voice called:
‘We’re ready, Billy.’
‘Coming now, darling,’ cried Billy. ‘Good night, you chaps. See you tomorrow.’
‘Don’t say anything to the girls,’ warned Andy.
‘Don’t worry,’ answered Billy with a grin. ‘Your deadly secret is safe with me.’
He went out with a wave of his hand.
‘He doesna believe a word of it,’ grunted Andy.
‘Queer he should describe Beatal as a fat man,’ muttered Tony thoughtfully. ‘Neither of us mentioned it.’
‘I don’t like it, Tony,’ said Andy very seriously. ‘I don’t like it at all. I canna get the sight of that poor wee girl out of my mind. I didna make any mistake about her.’
‘Neither did I,’ said Tony.
‘That packet’s at the bottom of it,’ said Andy. ‘The sooner ye get rid of it the better.’
‘I’ll turn it over to the police first thing in the morning,’ said Tony.
‘I wouldna wait. Do it tonight.’
‘Perhaps you’re right.’ Tony went over to the suitcase in which he had put the little packet and opened it.
The Crimson Ramblers Page 2