Body on the Stage

by Bev Robitai

  “Just forward planning really. Always have a strategy to cover a worst-case scenario, then if something does go wrong nobody panics.” The worry returned to her face. “I just wish I’d thought of one to cover losing an employee who may have emptied my bank accounts.”

  Mark looked thunderous. “What? Is that why you wanted to know where Vincenzo was? Has he ripped you off? I must have been crazy to think he was a decent guy. What a fourteen carat bastard!”

  “No, Mark – please don’t get upset! The police have been notified and I’m sure they’ll track him down. It’ll be fine, really. And I’ve got no proof he was responsible for the theft, only that he disappeared at the same time as the money. I shouldn’t have mentioned it really – can you try to forget I said anything?”

  “Sure, if you say so. God, what an arsehole, and he was always so charming.” A thought deepened his frown. “Hey, do you have stocks of the protein powder we’ve been getting from him? I’m almost due for a refill and I’ll need more in a couple of days.”

  “He’s been selling you protein powder? You mean you paid him direct instead of buying it at reception? What brand was it?”

  ‘Dunno, he said he bought bulk amounts and divided it into zip-lock one-kilogram bags himself to make it cheaper.”

  Cathy looked stricken and Dennis felt a fierce surge of anger towards Vincenzo. Was there no end to his betrayal of trust?

  “Do you know who else bought it from him? It probably explains why our retail figures have been so much lower lately.”

  “I know Ricky and Warwick were, but I don’t know how many others. I’m so sorry, I didn’t know he was selling it without your permission.” Mark looked furious. “I feel terrible – he seemed like he was helping us out, you know? We thought what a great guy he was. If I’d known it was at your expense I’d have poured his dumb powder down his throat with a bottle of water and made a live protein shake of him.”

  Dennis and Cathy both smiled at that image.

  “The milk foam would have come out of his nose,” she chuckled. “Thanks for that, Mark, I needed a laugh.” Her smile slowly faded as she turned to walk away, and when she turned back her eyes were serious. “Just a thought, but it might be a good idea to hold on to the last few grams of that protein powder, just in case it needs to be looked at more closely. You said you, Ricky and Warwick were using it, yes?” Mark nodded. “So Simon, Jayden and Dennis weren’t, is that right?”

  “Certainly right for me,” said Dennis. “The plan was for me to slim down, not bulk up. Besides, I’m not all that keen on milkshakes. I’d rather have a steak for my protein.”

  “What are you thinking?” asked Mark, flushed and irritable. “What do you think might be in the powder that’s got you worried?”

  “I don’t know, Mark. Don’t get upset. I’m just trying to look at the big picture and tally up a whole lot of information to make sense of it. It’s probably nothing, just a wild theory that’s suggesting itself. Until I have more information I’m not going to speculate any further.” She pointed at his notes. “Focus on learning your routine, it’ll take your mind off anything else. Be the best spy you can be, OK? Whetford’s women are counting on you!”

  Mark gave a non-committal grunt. “Just make sure you keep us informed. If there’s something we should know for God’s sake tell us, and sooner rather than later.”

  “Of course.” She smiled wearily at Dennis. “Now I’ll have much the same conversation with Ricky and Warwick, I suspect.”

  “Why don’t you leave out the concerns about the protein powder? As long as you have a sample from Mark, you don’t need to get them all wondering.”

  “Good point. I’ll just give them their choreo notes and leave them to it, I think.”

  Dennis watched from across the room as she gave out the pages to the other guys then spun and twirled in a spirited rendition of their dance moves. For a moment he wished that, perhaps, one day – he shook his head and sighed. Never in a million years.

  At the next rehearsal he was delighted to see Cathy come into the Green Room where he was putting a fresh bottle of milk away in the fridge. Her usual bounce was missing, but her face lit up as he came out of the kitchen area.

  “Dennis! What a lovely surprise to see you here. I expected a bunch of grumpy actors and it’s so nice to see you instead.”

  “You’ll still have to deal with the actors, I’m afraid – that is why you’re here, isn’t it?”

  “True. But at least I can talk to you in a break, can’t I?”

  “Of course! How are things going at the gym? Any news of Vincenzo?”

  ‘No, not a word. There’s been no activity at his apartment, no use of his bank accounts or phone, according to the police. I reckon he skipped the country with a false passport and is living up large overseas with my money by now,” she said bitterly. “Heaven knows if I’ll ever see any of it back.”

  “What about insurance – is the business covered for something like that?”

  “Yes, up to a point. I think.” She looked at him, her eyes suddenly huge with worry. “I’d better take a closer look at the policy when I get back to the gym. It’s been several years since I took it out and I can’t remember all the fine details. Now you’ve got me really worried. If I’m not covered I’ll be in big trouble.”

  “You’ll be fine,” he soothed her, trying to inject as much reassurance in his voice as he could muster. “You’re a smart woman, and I’m sure you’ll have done a thorough job of getting the right policy. Anyway, you can’t worry about it until you look at the paperwork, so relax and put it out of your mind for now.”

  “Thank you.” She leaned against him for a moment. “Just as well you’re here to stop me from going completely off the rails.” She stood back, her posture straighter, head held high. “I feel better already. It’s such a help knowing somebody else cares about all this.”

  “Of course I care,” he said gently, a warm glow filling him with delight. “I care a lot about you…”

  The Green Room door burst open and Simon ran into the room. He headed straight for Cathy and grabbed her hands.

  “At last, you’re here! Show me my routine, you brilliant and talented choreographer. I want to see what you’ve done for me. Come on, come on, dance!”

  Laughing, and with an apologetic glance to Dennis, Cathy allowed herself to be towed away into the centre of the room. She handed Simon his printed pages.

  “We haven’t quite figured out your entrance yet, but you’ll be in the police uniform, or something that looks close enough to one. You’ll be quite stiff, almost robotic, while you’re a cop.” She demonstrated with a lively performance, and her solid moves made Dennis think of the Terminator. She mimed pulling off the outer uniform layers. “OK, once you’re down to this, you whisk off the shirt and trousers to reveal your street kid outfit, and your whole body language becomes fluid and loose. This is where you get to show off all your hip-hop dance skills.”

  Simon watched, entranced, trying to mirror her moves as she flexed and snapped.

  “That’s so cool, Cathy! I love it!”

  By this time several of the others had come in and were standing in a group by the door watching the performance. As she finished with a fancy spin on the floor, they broke into applause. Dennis clapped too, but felt a sudden pang of sadness. Cathy was obviously far too talented ever to go out with a plain boring guy like him. She was way out of his league, and the realisation hurt. He sighed, turned away, and retreated to the workshop.

  “Hey, Doc, how’s it going?” Tony greeted him, standing at the workbench in a faded Cats sweatshirt.

  “Oh, fine. You know – can’t complain.”

  “That bad, huh? When my missus says ‘fine’ in that tone of voice you can bet your bottom dollar she’s not. What’s up, mate?”

  Dennis forced a smile. “Nothing really, just having an off day. You know how it is. What are we working on today?” He hoped Tony would stop asking questions and jus
t let it go.

  “Can you face a long boring job?” A smile played on Tony’s lips.

  “Sounds perfect.”

  “You’re sure? You don’t mind boring? Really, really boring?” His eyes twinkled.

  “Boring is good. Just tell me what you need and I’ll get on with it.”

  “OK, you asked for it. We need about five hundred and eighty holes bored in this backdrop, to spell out Ladies Night.” Tony chuckled. “Dude, you walked right into that one! There you go – the art department has already drawn out the words, all you have to do is grab the drill and follow the lines. Get the holes as evenly spaced as possible because there’ll be lights shining through them and if they’re out of whack it’ll stand out like dog’s balls.”

  “No dog’s balls. Got it. OK, call me when it’s coffee time. I’ll be over here making a holy mess.” Dennis picked up the drill and approached the plywood panel with intent to wound. Once he had made the first few holes he got into a routine, and the fiddly job was enough to keep his attention fully focussed. It was a relief to escape his thoughts.

  By the time Tony tapped him on the shoulder and made coffee-drinking gestures, Dennis had regained his equilibrium. He was able to join the rest of the cast and crew in the Green Room without shrinking from view.

  “Hey, Doc,” said Gazza, lounging back on one of the old grey chairs. “Look at this – my arm’s healed up just like a bought one, thanks to your expert touch with the Dettol.” He showed a neatly mending scratch mark. “Guess they won’t have to amputate after all.”

  “Just as well,” remarked Tony. “You’re already busier than a one-armed paper-hanger. A one-armed lighting tech would be unthinkable. Well done, Doc, you did a nice bit of Repair and Maintenance on our Head of Lighting there. Help yourself to an extra biscuit.”

  “No thanks, I’m staying away from biscuits at the moment. You and Gazza share it between you.”

  A warm hand landed gently on his shoulder. “Impressive will-power, ‘Doc’. I’m pleased to see you sticking to your eating plan in the face of temptation.” He turned to find Cathy smiling at him. “Is everything OK?’ she asked quietly. “I saw you looking a bit down in the mouth as you left the room earlier.”

  “Really?” He cast round for a plausible reason that wouldn’t sound as sappy as the true cause of his glum look. “Um, well, it was just a hard day at work, that’s all. Nothing serious.” Time to turn the tables and redirect her attention. “When will you have a chance to check that insurance policy?” He could have kicked himself as he watched her smile fade and worry lines appear on her brow.

  “I think I’ll go and do it right now. Like I said, there’s no news, no sign of Vincenzo, and no cash reserves to cover my debts – I need to know exactly where I stand with that insurance. But it’s been a relief to come down here for rehearsals to get into a different headspace for a while.”

  “And I just ruined it for you.” He smacked his forehead. “I’m so sorry. What an idiot.”

  She stopped him. “It’s all right, nothing that a hug wouldn’t fix.” Her blue eyes looked into his. He took the hint and stood up, turned, and opened his arms, wrapping her in a gentle embrace. He was sure he got the most benefit from the feeling of her body moulded against his and the scent of her hair as he breathed in, but when they broke apart, her eyes were sparkling. “Thank you! That was the best hug ever! I feel ready to take on the world now!”

  “That’s funny,” he told her. “I was thinking the same thing. We should take this and bottle it. It would be handy for those times when life gets you down, wouldn’t it?”

  Dennis felt a tap on his shoulder.

  “Is this a gentlemen’s excuse me?” said Nick, the smooth-talking head of promotions. “Mind if I cut in? If there are hugs going then I want my share.” He swept Cathy into his arms leaving Dennis standing on the edge of the group feeling very exposed.

  “Actually it’s a ladies’ excuse me,” said Jessica. She tapped Cathy on the shoulder and took her place in Nick’s arms, freeing her to return to Dennis.

  Nick swung Jessica round with a grin.

  “Jessica! I knew you’d come back to me! Have you ditched that policeman for good? Couldn’t he measure up to my charms?”

  “Oh he does, Nick, don’t you worry. I’m just reminding myself of how good I’ve got it at home. This is a charity dance, my little wallflower.”

  “Ouch! After all the trouble I’ve gone to this week to get advance publicity for the show, and this is the thanks I get? You ungrateful woman!”

  “What advance publicity? What have you done, Nick?”

  He grinned smugly. “What have the Letters to the Editor been ranting about in the paper all week?”

  She eyed him incredulously. “That was YOU? You wrote that blistering rant to the paper about sin and nudity and told people to boycott the show? And you think that was a GOOD idea?”

  He was unrepentant. “Look at the coverage it has generated. Everybody is talking about Ladies Night and there are plenty of people defending it on our behalf. The argument is playing out in public, we don’t have to do a thing, and everyone in town will know the show is on. How can that be bad?”

  She nodded grudgingly. “OK, I take your point.” She looked over to Dennis who was listening nearby. “It seems we played right into the hands of Mastermind here, Dennis, but thanks for writing your letter anyway. I guess it was all part of the plan.”

  “Glad I could help,” he said. “We certainly had some talk about it at our office. Most of the women there were concerned whoever wrote to the paper might succeed in getting the show stopped before they had a chance to see it. It certainly made them keen to buy tickets.”

  Nick crowed with delight and pumped his arm in a victory gesture. “Yes! Perfect response! See Jessica, that’s why they pay me the big bucks down at the radio station – I’m that good! Keep them wondering, Dennis. Tell them to book for the first week in case it gets taken off by the anti-nudity brigade in the second week. They wouldn’t want to miss it, would they?”

  “Righto,” said Dennis. He turned back to Cathy. “Feeling better now? I hate seeing you so worried when there’s nothing I can do to help.”

  “You help just by being around, actually.”

  “Really?” He felt absurdly pleased.

  “It’s reassuring to know there’s somebody on my side who cares what happens in my life. You’re a very sweet guy, Dennis.”

  He sighed inwardly. Sweet. It still wasn’t the dangerously sexy image he’d have liked to project, but it was better than nothing. If only he was a hardened man of action who could solve all her problems with some daring feat full of dramatic flair. What would James Bond do in this situation? Dennis, in his current state, felt more like ‘M’ than 007.

  “Hey, you’ve gone sad again. What are you thinking about now?” Cathy’s wide blue eyes were full of concern.

  “I’m wondering how I can find some answers about Vincenzo for you,” he said, surprising himself as the words came out.

  “How? I mean, what can we do? TV detectives seem to get all the answers, don’t they? How do they tackle something like this? Oh, I suppose we could do a scene examination around his known places, check out his apartment again, look around the gym more closely, talk to his known associates and all that, couldn’t we? Something like that, you mean?”

  “Yes, that’s exactly what I meant.” Ideas started to form. He grinned suddenly. “Moneypenny, I’m off on a mission and may be quite some time.”

  “No problem, James, I’m coming with you this time.” With a dazzling smile she linked her arm through his and they sauntered out of the theatre together, leaving the coffee-swilling crowd in the Green Room to their own devices.

  Chapter Seven

  Dennis drove Cathy to Vincenzo’s apartment, thinking they could fit in a good look around while it was still light, before their commitments at the gym.

  They walked round the side of the old villa onto the deck, cupp
ing their hands to peer in through the French windows. There was no sign that anything had changed since their last visit.

  “Oh,” said Cathy, “we should have checked his mailbox as we came in. I’ll go look. You see if you can find a key hidden anywhere – you know, under a plant pot or something.”

  Dennis watched her shapely rear end disappear round the end of the house and turned his attention back to the task at hand. There were several dried-up pots of indeterminate plant matter on the deck, but none of them had keys tucked underneath. He checked both pot and saucer, just to be thorough. It’s what Bond would have done. Or would he have whipped out a tiny glass-cutter and sliced his way through a pane to gain entry? That would be much cooler. Dennis got to his feet and studied the door. ‘If I was a slick Italian playboy, where would I hide a key?’ he thought. He looked around, spotting a small statue of a naked woman among some rose bushes. She appeared to be holding some sort of basket with a stone resting in it. Dennis reached gingerly between the rose stems and lifted the stone. A brass key lay exposed to his delighted gaze.

  “Cathy!” he called quietly, “I’ve found it!” Then it occurred to him the key might belong to one of the other apartments, so he hurried to try it out in Vincenzo’s door to make sure. It turned freely, but he had to give the door a strong tug to get it open.

  Cathy came back just then, with a fistful of junk mail.

  “Dennis!” she exclaimed, “I’m so impressed! Where did you find it?”

  He showed her the statue and she made a face. “How typical of him. But well done you to think of it. Come on, let’s see what we can find out!”

  Her enthusiasm evaporated as they reached the door and Dennis could almost see the cogs turning in her head as she imagined what might be inside.

  “Stop thinking about American cop shows,” he advised. “I’m sure there won’t be a body sprawled across the bed or anything as dramatic as that.”

  “Can you promise that?”