How I Survived My Summer Vacation
Page 20
“And I think it’s great that you’re going to summer school to get your teaching certificate. Going after a new career at your age and all.”
Giles was thrown off by her comment, but did manage a glance at Willow to show that he was proud of her forethought in explaining why he was in the library over summer vacation. This elicited a little smile from the student.
Wait a minute! At my age? he thought.
Willow took his silence as the opening for introductions. “Giles, this is Elisabeth, one of the actresses in the show I’m working on. She plays Lady Macbeth.”
“Very nice to meet you,” he said, shaking her hand. “If you don’t mind my saying so, you seem rather young for such a role.” Take that.
“We’re a young cast,” she replied easily. “Mostly college kids, but you’d be surprised how much life experience we’ve had.”
“I can’t believe the amount of experiences we’ve had in the last two weeks,” Willow said.
“I must say how impressed I am that you took on this job, Willow,” Giles’s spoken praise caused her to smile even more. “Especially considering how uncomfortable you were working on the talent show.”
“I’m only behind the scenes,” Willow said, hopping up on the counter. “As long as I don’t have to go on stage, I don’t have to worry about the stage fright that manifests itself as temporary paralysis.”
“Don’t believe her,” Elisabeth added. “She also understudies some of the roles and she’s been fabulous.”
“Really?”
“I wouldn’t say fabulous,” Willow said. “Let’s just say that I haven’t tripped and fallen off the stage into the orchestra pit yet.”
“Well, compared to the untalented townies we hired for the smaller roles, you’ve managed to hold your own.”
“And how is Xander doing?”
Giles’s question was met with an uncomfortable silence.
“I take that to mean that he’s not enjoying himself?”
“He isn’t,” Willow confirmed. “He’s . . . had a few accidents.”
“A few?” Elisabeth added sarcastically.
“He just needs a little confidence,” Willow hastily defended her friend. “It doesn’t help that we’re on two different schedules. We took the jobs so that we could work together, but I had to work all the rehearsals and the crew didn’t come in until after they were over. We hardly saw each other while the show was in rehearsal.”
“Well, it will all be over tonight,” Giles said.
“Speaking of tonight,” Willow removed something from her pocket. “I have your tickets for the show. There’s also a cast party afterward.”
“You have to come,” Elisabeth added. “It’ll be a blast.”
“Thank you, I’ll think about it.”
“I notice you asked for two tickets,” Willow said. “Will you be bringing someone of the Ms. Calendar variety?”
“As a matter of fact, Ms. Calendar will be accompanying me,” he confirmed, pocketing the tickets. “We thought it would be a nice show of support for our students.”
“How romantic,” Elisabeth added dryly. “On that note, we should be going.”
“We need to get Elisabeth a new pair of shoes for the show,” Willow said as she slid off the counter. “Her other pair was lost last night.”
“The costumer was ready to kill Xander for losing them,” Elisabeth said. “That is, until Willow, the peacemaker, offered to go with me to get new shoes.”
“Well, it’s been nice meeting you, Elisabeth,” Giles said, shaking her hand. “Break a leg tonight.”
“Thank you,” she said. “But you can wish me luck. I don’t believe in theater superstition. I mean, we’re performing one of the most cursed plays in theater history and, Xander’s screw-ups aside, nothing bad has happened.”
The concept of cursed plays sent Giles’s mind into overdrive. He barely managed to say good-bye to Willow before racing back to the stacks. It took him a few minutes to find what he had been looking for because, since Buffy had arrived in Sunnydale a few months earlier, he rarely spent any time in the section of the library actually devoted to school books.
* * *
When Jenny arrived an hour later, she found Giles exactly where she had left him, at the research table. However, this time he was not reading books that were written centuries before. These books looked more modern, like regular library books.
“Listen to this,” he said as he opened one of the books. “Had it the ability of life to thank you: He never gave commandment for their death. But since, so jump upon this bloody question.”
As Giles’s voice trailed off, Jenny filled in the blanks, excited by the fact that they had their first real clue. “The words that the man was repeating!”
“They are from Hamlet!” Giles explained, handing her the book. “From Horatio’s final lines. The man who was left to bear witness to the killings at the end of the play.”
“The murders were taken from plays?” she asked as she quickly scanned the text.
“The poisoned woman represented Hamlet’s mother. The three men who had been cut by the foils were Hamlet, Laertes, and the King.” Giles was rubbing his creased brow, mentally berating himself for not being more thorough. “If we had taken the foils, we probably would have found that one of them had been dipped in the same poison that was in the chalice.”
“And last night?”
“The final scenes of Our Town,” Giles explained, as if it should have been obvious all along. “The entire third act centers around the dead in a cemetery. They are seated on twelve chairs in three rows. I don’t know how I missed it!”
“This isn’t normal behavior for vampires though,” she said, closing the book and putting it down on the table among the pile of other plays.
“Ah, but history is littered with stories of theater troupes bringing death with them as they travel from town to town.”
“The same was said of murderous Gypsy bands or strong women who were called witches,” she countered as she took a seat beside him. “It was just a reflection of ignorant times in which townspeople were afraid of anything different.”
“True,” Giles agreed. “And I am rarely one to put so much faith in baseless folklore, but the killings do coincide with the nights of the performances.”
“And you think it’s the cast?”
“No,” Giles said slowly, sounding it out. “Willow just came over with the lead actress this afternoon. But it has to be someone associated with the show. It’s too large of a coincidence for it not to be. . . .” He trailed off in thought, absently chewing on the arm of his glasses. “It could be the backstage crew. They don’t report to work until after the rehearsals, so they don’t have to be out during the day.”
“Vampires with secret identities,” she said. “How Clark Kent of them.”
“Tonight is closing night of the show. Willow said that there’s going to be a big cast party afterward. I’m afraid to think what could happen.”
“Before we jump to conclusions based on coincidence, let’s do some more research of the modern variety.”
Jenny moved over to the computer and warmed up the search engine on the Shakespeare Players. Conveniently the troupe had a website listing their summer tour. From there, it was only a matter of cross referencing the newspapers of the towns in which they had performed. She had their answers printed out in less than a half-hour.
“Okay,” she said. Her voice brought Giles back from the stacks where he had been pulling other plays for potential research. “The company has performed in three other towns this summer. In each of the towns there were several unsolved murders during the time the company was there.”
“Murder scenes?” Giles asked, placing his new pile of books on the table.
Scanning the pages, Jenny read a few off. “Two young brothers. Their mother is missing and, as far as I can tell, has not turned up yet . . .”
“Medea.”
“A young coupl
e found in a crypt, one stabbed, the other by a vial of poison . . .”
“Romeo and Juliet.”
“A crucifixion scene . . .”
Giles looked through his new pile of books. “Obviously a play about Christ.”
“Jesus Christ Superstar?” Jenny guessed. “There are other murders too.”
“I think we’ve proven our point,” Giles said with satisfaction. “Someone associated with the theater is responsible for these killings.”
“Not just that.” She handed him the printed pages. “I meant there are a lot of other murders. The scenes aren’t just contained to the nights of the performances. They occurred nearly every night that the troupe was in the towns.”
“What could be different about Sunnydale?” Giles wondered as he browsed the information. “If anything, this town would be the one most likely to see the worst of the murders. Historically speaking, of course.”
“We’ll have to find that out tonight,” Jenny said. “We can watch the first act from our seats and get a read on the theater. Nothing should happen until after the show. I’ll go ask Angel to watch the backstage once the sun sets in case he recognizes the guy from last night. In the meantime, you really should warn Willow and Xander.”
“I know,” he said. “But I don’t want them to be involved if they don’t have to be.”
“If you’re right, then they’re already involved.”
There’s no way I can do this.
Willow was pacing outside the theater in a truly agitated state. Her breath was short, her mind racing. She could not believe what she had just been told. It shouldn’t have come as a surprise, but it did catch her off guard.
Everything had been going so well . . .
She had been enjoying her summer job until moments ago.
In the midst of her hysterics, she saw Giles. Before he could reach her, she found herself running to the Watcher, the shock showing on her face.
“Willow, what’s wrong?” he asked as she reached him.
“It’s horrible,” she cried.
“Vampires?”
“No,” she said. “Kirsti didn’t show up. She plays one of the three witches. We’ve been calling, but can’t find her anywhere.”
“And you think she’s been —”
“Oh, no,” Willow said, barely registering the significance of his question. “She’s been flaky for the past two weeks, always late to rehearsal, never knew her lines.” Then it hit her and she shifted gears. “Why would you think something happened to her? Nothing evil has happened since Buffy left.”
Giles decided to ignore that last part. “But that doesn’t explain why you are so upset.”
Why isn’t he getting it? “I have to go on in her place!”
The Watcher relaxed slightly. “Well, that explains why you are wearing so much make-up. Willow, you’ll be fine. I have total faith in you.”
“I’m glad someone does,” she said. “Giles, how can I do this? You remember the talent show.”
“That was different.”
“How?”
Giles was at a loss. “Um, it wasn’t a paying audience?”
“This isn’t one of your better pep talks.”
“Willow, listen to me,” he said calmly. “You’ve been preparing for this for the past two weeks. You knew that it was possible that you would have to go on stage.”
“But I never thought —”
“You told me yourself how much fun you’ve been having. When you’re on the stage, you’ll be surrounded by the friends you’ve made at the theater. Ms. Calendar and I will be out front watching you. You have nothing to fear.”
“But I’m —”
“Going to be fine.” He placed his hands on her shoulders in a fatherly manner. “You’re going to be just fine.”
His calming voice had an effect on her. It wasn’t enough to make the nerves go away, but it was sufficient to get her to remember her responsibilities.
“I have to call places,” Then she realized, “And I have to get into place. I’m in the first scene!”
Without another word, she ran to the stage door, unlocked it and disappeared inside, leaving Giles behind to contemplate what he had not told her.
There was a small crowd in front of the theater for the last show.
“I told Angel we’d meet him backstage during the intermission,” Jenny said to a preoccupied Giles as they went inside. “He’s going to be hiding back there during the first act. Apparently one of the many tunnels under Sunnydale has an opening in the alleyway behind the theater. He may already be in place.”
“Which explains how they have been getting in and out of the theater during the day.”
“Did you tell Willow and Xander?” she asked.
“I . . . didn’t see Xander.”
“Willow?”
“There was a slight change of plans.”
“How slight!”
“One of the actresses has gone missing, and Willow has to go on in her place. She was a nervous wreck. I didn’t think that it was a good idea to make things worse.”
After a pause, Jenny eased his conscience. “You made the right call.”
“Thank you.”
They had come to their row. An usher handed them each a program. After they took their seats, Jenny began to read over her program looking for clues, while Giles’s thoughts shifted from Willow and Xander to the theater full of unsuspecting innocents.
How many people do they intend to kill tonight? the Watcher thought. And how do we stop them before they enact their plan?
“I think I’ve found something.” Jenny’s comment put an end to his musings.
“What?” he whispered, cognizant of the fact that they were surrounded by audience members who were easily within earshot.
“There seven people on the stage crew,” she said, also in a whisper. “Subtract Willow and Xander and that leaves five. The same number of . . . people . . . Angel saw last night.”
“I guess that’s the final confirmation,” he said. “It’s the whole crew.”
The house lights began to dim.
“We have to get back there and tell Angel,” she whispered more urgently.
“They won’t do anything while the show is on. They’ll wait until after the curtain call.”
“How can you be so sure?”
“This is theater. They won’t let anything get in the way of the show.”
The curtain opened, and Willow had the first line of the play. Giles not only saw, but actually felt her fear from where he sat. She was frozen on the stage, and the play would not start until she spoke her lines.
During the silence, a loud crash was heard from backstage. Giles wasn’t sure if it was a sound effect or an accident. The noise, while scaring half the audience, managed to jar Willow into speech.
“Wh-When shall we th-th-three meet again? In thunder, l-l-lightning, or in rain?”
Having snuck in through a window after sunset, Angel found himself a place to hide in the catwalks thirty feet above the stage. The first act seemed perfectly fine from Angel’s vantage point. When they weren’t on stage, the cast stayed in either the green-room or their dressing rooms. The only people walking around were the stage crew.
He could not help but notice that the crew was all dressed in black just like the vampires from the previous evening. Although that was probably normal for people working backstage, what was abnormal was the sense of death associated with them. Angel knew when he was in the presence of other vampires, and the air felt as if he’d stumbled into their nest. The darkness of the backstage area normally would not affect his surveillance, but that in combination with the natural havoc of backstage during a performance and the height from which he was perched, kept him from getting a true read on the situation. Every now and then he would see Willow and Xander scurrying about and, though they were not looking in his direction, he was careful not to be seen by them.
As the intermission was nearing, Angel decided
that it was time to do some looking around. He figured that everyone was so busy with their own jobs that they wouldn’t notice him.
Careful to avoid the greenroom and dressing rooms, Angel went to the stage-left wings to look around the less populated part of the theater. According to the signs, the left side of the stage led to the costume shop, paint closet, and electrical room. Most of the doors were tied open to make sure that they did not slam during the performance. Angel could see the costumer in her shop and avoided the room completely.
Once past the costume shop, he entered the paint closet next door. Several cans of paint lined the shelves of one wall while dozens of brushes lined the other. There was a big sink in the middle of the back wall. Nothing could be hiding in that room. Before Angel exited he heard angry voices in the next room straining to remain at a whisper. At first he couldn’t make out what they were saying, until they moved out into the hallway.
“I can’t believe that you left that mess behind,” said a male voice with a familiar tone.
Angel did his best to hide behind the paint room door. Since it was tied open, he couldn’t entirely fit, but it did obscure most of his body.
“I couldn’t help it,” a female voice answered.
“You shouldn’t have been striking things until after the show.”
“But I needed to, Sam.” The female voice gave Angel a name to work with. “Xander’s had this whole production so screwed up that I couldn’t wait any longer. We missed so much work during the week cleaning up after his mistakes.”
“I should have fired him last week, but we’ll get rid of him as soon as the show is over,” Sam said. “Although, I’m thinking of making Willow a permanent member of the crew.”
“She has been doing a great job.”
“I’ve got to get back up to the booth to call the rest of the cues so that Willow can go onstage.”
“I should be in the light booth too,” the woman said. “See you after the show.”
Angel heard one of them quietly pull a door shut and lock it, which he found a little odd.
As they were walking away from the paint room, Angel stole a glance from behind the door to confirm his suspicions. Although both the man and woman had their backs to him, it was all that Angel needed to see. The badly dyed black hair confirmed that the stage manager was the vampire he had fought in the cemetery.