by Bev Robitai
“Such as?”
“Anger, particularly. You just don’t know what’s going to set them off. And now that they’re so bulked up and strong it’s a bit unnerving when they start behaving like the Incredible Hulk.”
“Have you noticed any other guys at the gym reacting in the same way?”
“You mean ones who aren’t involved with the theatre? I haven’t really noticed, no. I tend to keep my head down and don’t interact with anyone I don’t know. Sorry.”
“Oh, not your fault, Dennis! You weren’t to know I’d be needing a witness.” Jack clapped him on the shoulder. “Relax, it’s OK! Thanks for your input anyway, it all helps to fill in the picture. Off you trot and do whatever you need to do. I’ll catch up with the rest of these guys another time.” He unfolded his tall frame from the seat and strode towards the exit, pausing halfway there. “What’s a good time to catch Cathy at the gym? I need to speak to her but it can wait till she has a quiet moment.”
Dennis felt his heart thump. Why would Jack need to speak to Cathy? Did he suspect her of something? Surely he didn’t think she could have done away with Vincenzo? Then common sense caught up with his instinct. Jack was on their side – he wouldn’t be rushing to arrest an innocent person.
“She’s usually quite busy during the day, and she teaches from six to seven tonight, but it’s generally pretty quiet after that. Does that help?” He was trying to make sure he could be there at the time just in case Cathy needed moral support. Jack smiled as if he’d guessed as much.
“I’ll try after seven then. Expect I’ll see you there, Dennis, as you’re training so hard. The gym must feel like a second home to you. Bye!”
Chapter Nine
At seven o’clock that night Dennis stationed himself on a machine that was as close as possible to the door of the yoga room, doing a light set of chest presses so that he could stay in place as long as necessary. Just as the last of the yoga group left the room, Cathy came out and Jack Matherson appeared at the far end of the gym. He came over, carrying a briefcase that appeared quite heavy.
“Good evening, Cathy, Dennis. Good to see you.” He winked at Dennis. “Would you care to join us?”
“Oh, er, yes, OK. Thanks.” Dennis eased the weights down gently on his machine and followed Jack and Cathy to her office. Jack placed his briefcase on her desk and opened it.
“Can you tell me if this looks like a piece of your equipment, Cathy?” He pulled out a black iron dumbbell enclosed in a plastic evidence bag and handed it to her. She looked up at him, startled.
“Oh God, this isn’t the murder weapon, is it?”
“We don’t know for sure just yet, but we found two of them with the body. We think they were used to hold it underwater. It would have worked, too, if that heavy rain hadn’t dragged the body away from the sheltering bank and moved it out into view.”
She stared at the item, turning it over and peering through the bag. She turned to Dennis. “Could you go and get one of the dumbbells off the rack, please?” Her voice was frail. Dennis squeezed her shoulder and went off to the rack, pretty sure he would find a dumbbell which would match the one she held. Oh, this looked bad. It was another link between that blasted Italian and Cathy’s gym. If only Vincenzo had been done in by someone completely unrelated to Intensity. Cathy really didn’t need this complication.
He took a dumbbell off the rack and returned to the office, handing it to Jack.
“Thank you.” Jack examined it closely and compared it to the one in the evidence bag. “It certainly looks identical to me. Do you think it’s one of yours, Cathy?”
She nodded. “Yes, I’m afraid so. We found there were two missing when we did a stocktake. It seems pretty conclusive, doesn’t it?” Her face was drawn and pale.
“I’m sorry, this must be very difficult for you,” said Jack sympathetically. “I’m afraid I’ll have to take this one away as well so the lab can do a proper comparison. Sorry if it leaves you short.”
“Somehow I doubt if it will matter,” she sighed. “Once word of this gets out, there won’t be many customers coming here anyway, so a shortage of equipment won’t be a problem.”
“Oh, come on, don’t be like that.” Dennis tried to be cheerful. “You never know, the publicity might get more people interested in coming here. You know how ghoulish they can be where murder is concerned. They’d probably love to see where the dead guy used to work.” He forced himself not to think Vincenzo might have been killed there as well. Those stains on the carpet meant nothing. It was vital the gym stay open.
Cathy shot him a sceptical look.
“Don’t shoot his idea down in flames,” said Jack. “After there was a murder in the theatre a while ago they did tours of the place and made quite a tidy sum. There may be some way you could cash in on the notoriety.” He paused. “But of course as a responsible officer of the law I could never suggest such a thing. Do forget I mentioned it, please.” He winked, and Cathy managed a small smile.
“Thank you for being so human, Jack, I really appreciate it. This would be far worse if you weren’t the one dealing with it.”
Dennis felt a small pang of jealousy until she turned to him. “You’re my knight in shining armour, Dennis – look at you, here protecting me against this big bad policeman! I really don’t know what I’d do without you.” He moved closer and put his arm around her.
“All right, you two – I’ll be on my way now. I’ll just write up a receipt for the dumbbell and then I’ll get out of your hair.” He pulled out the paperwork from his briefcase and jotted down a few lines. “Here you are – you can get these items back eventually once all the tests have been done.”
Cathy shuddered. “I’m not sure if I want them after what they were used for. But thanks anyway.”
They sat in silence for a few moments after he’d gone. Cathy looked so glum that Dennis knew he had to find her something else to think about, if only for a while.
“So, Miss Choreographer, have you managed to come up with a dance routine for my exercise programme?” It was the last thing he wanted to remind her of but he knew she’d be enthusiastic about it. She looked up, her eyes showing the gleam that had been missing for too long.
“Oh yes, I have, actually.” She grinned. “Just wait till you see my idea, I think you’ll like it.” She stood up and walked around her desk to take his hand. “Come to the yoga room with me and I’ll show you the whole routine, and then you can start practising in front of the mirrors.”
“Great!” His bright, carefully-crafted smile faded slowly as she towed him through the gym.
After four days of practising his dance moves at every opportunity, Dennis felt he was making good progress. It was getting easier to remember what his arms and legs had to do at each point in the music, so he had more brain space to devote to actually performing with a bit of style. He would practise after his weights workout once the yoga room was empty, and found the mirrors there invaluable for assessing his form. As he warmed up and peeled off his T-shirt, he realised his body was actually looking quite presentable. He found himself striking the sort of muscle poses he’d seen the other guys do, flexing biceps and crunching his abs. He had abs! It was a revelation. He even found himself considering getting a spray tan like Ricky to make the filmstar look more believable.
His elevation to pin-up status got another boost at the Friday night rehearsal when Adam called him over from where he was coiling a rope in the wings.
“Dennis, could you help us out for a few minutes please, if you can spare the time? Ricky is missing tonight and I want to run through some of the group dance routines. You just need to mark his place and walk when I tell you – you don’t need to know the moves. It’ll help the others to get the timing right.”
“If you think I’ll be any use, sure.” He grinned. “I’ve got used to following instructions when Cathy tells me what to do!”
Adam arranged the three actors and Dennis on the stage and nodded to the
sound guy for the music to start. Dennis watched carefully and tried to mimic what the others were doing. It was hard work, both physically and mentally, but he managed to keep up and stay no more than half a beat behind.
“That’s very good Dennis!” Adam called out. “See if you can follow what the others do as they come off the stage.”
Warwick bounded down the steps, ran back about four rows and jumped up to stand astride the aisle with his feet on the seat arms, facing the stage. Mark followed, taking the third row from the front.
“Now you, Dennis!” called Adam.
Dennis tried to move as quickly as the others and jumped into position in the second row. It was hard to balance and he felt himself wobbling, but Mark braced him with a steadying hand on his shoulder. Simon sprang into position in the first row and began to clap his hands over his head then down against his thighs. Dennis struggled to follow the moves but couldn’t quite keep up the timing.
“Don’t worry about it Dennis, just fake it for now,” advised Adam. “You’re doing fine. OK Warwick, down you go.”
Suddenly Warwick appeared beneath his legs, coming out of a forward roll and bounding back onto the stage. Mark came next, untucking from a roll and leaping up the steps.
“Just jump down and follow them,” called Adam, “No need to do the roll.”
Gratefully, Dennis landed feet first on the red floral carpet and hurried to join the others, with Simon just seconds behind him. They lined up in a row and ran through a few more moves that Dennis managed to copy, still only slightly behind the others.
As the music stopped he blew out a huge sigh of relief, grateful to stop the intense concentration.
“My God, how do you guys do that?” he gasped. “It’s the hardest thing I’ve ever done!”
“Practice, dear boy,” drawled Simon, “simply practice. Just like getting to Carnegie Hall. Or if you’re really lucky, onto The X Factor.”
“Very good, guys,” called Adam. “Take five, go and grab a drink.”
Out in the Green Room he took Dennis aside. “Thank you for that – you made a great effort out there. It can’t have been easy for you, but it made it much easier for the others. I may call on you as a stand-in again if anyone fails to show up at inconvenient times, would that be all right?”
“Sure, no problem, as long as it doesn’t get any more complicated than that. I think that was about my limit.”
“You’d soon pick it up if you watched it a few times. Can you get free to watch a couple of rehearsals when everyone is here so you get more familiar with the moves?”
“I guess so. I haven’t been assigned any particular crew task to do yet so it shouldn’t be a problem.” He hesitated. “But are you sure there isn’t anyone better suited?”
“No, you’ll do fine. We’ve got Jayden as our stripper understudy so you’re just a rehearsal back-up – just a body on the stage, basically. We don’t need you to perform with any degree of skill.”
“Well in that case, I’m your man!”
“Thank you, Dennis.” Adam inclined his head graciously. After he had walked away, Dennis was left feeling as if he’d been appointed to a position of honour and was somebody very special. It was the effect Adam had on people.
“What was all that about?” Ricky was suddenly in his face, his eyes hot and angry. “You don’t think you’re getting a spot on stage, do you? What did Adam say to you?”
Dennis backed away from him towards the table where the other actors were sitting.
“He was just thanking me for filling in for the rehearsal,” he protested. “Nothing more than that.”
“Really? You look pretty smug for someone who just pranced about making a twat of himself – you sure he didn’t promise you a part in the show?” Ricky advanced, so intent on Dennis he didn’t see Warwick’s foot shoot out in his path. He tripped, sprawled on the floor, and jumped back on his feet with murder in his eyes. He turned on Warwick.
“You bastard! What the hell was that for?”
Warwick stood slowly, looming over Ricky. “For being a dick,” he growled. “Sit down and shut up for once, will you? You’re a noisy little pain in the arse. Yap, yap, yap, in that squeaky little voice – I’m bloody sick of it.”
“To hell with you!” Ricky pulled back a fist and let fly with all his strength, catching Warwick in the belly. Mark sprang up and tried to get between them, getting a punch on the ear for his trouble. In seconds the three of them were tangled on the floor, fists flying and kicks landing with muffled grunts and curses. The others looked on in amazement, too surprised to take any action to stop them. When Mark started pounding Warwick’s head against the floor Dennis filled a jug of cold water to fling over them but by that time Adam had come back into the room.
“WHAT DO YOU THINK YOU ARE DOING?” Adam’s forceful but menacing delivery managed to penetrate the red haze in their heads and bring them slowly to their feet. They stood in front of him, panting, rubbing at their injuries.
“It was…” Ricky began.
“I DO NOT WISH TO HEAR IT. Go and clean yourselves up. I recommend cold water, paper towels, and a good hard look in the mirror. Ricky, go to the backstage toilets. Warwick, use the front of house toilets. Mark, use the upstairs toilets. GO!” Adam pointed. They hurried off in different directions.
“Would somebody care to enlighten me as to what all that was about?”
“Thespians,” proclaimed Gazza. “Highly-strung bunch.”
“Yes, thank you Gazza, very illuminating. Anyone else?”
“It was weird,” said Tony. “They just kind of exploded. One minute we were all having a nice quiet cuppa, then all hell broke loose and they were at each other’s throats. I’ve never seen anything like it.”
Dennis was about to offer his theory but Ricky came back into the room and, unwilling to provoke another outburst, he stayed silent. Better that the rehearsal got back on track. He could always have a quiet word with Adam later.
“Right then,” said Adam, as the other two straggled back into the Green Room, their hair slicked back and faces scrubbed clean. “Now that everyone is behaving like human beings instead of animals, perhaps we can get on with our show. I trust there will be no repetition of this stupidity?” He looked hard at the three pugilists, who shuffled their feet and muttered “No Adam,” in some embarrassment.
Adam looked at his watch, then around the rest of the group in the Green Room. “Ah, Jessica – can you round up a few females to sit in the front row for the next part of the strip routines? I need bodies for the guys to perform to. Anyone will do. Cathy should be here shortly and we’ll try out the moves on a live audience.”
A broad grin spread across Jessica’s face as she called on several women Dennis didn’t know, telling them they’d been chosen.
“Yes, Gert, you can be in a hot seat for this part, come on. You must have seen a few naked men in your time, eh?” The grey-haired little old lady smiled but didn’t seem terribly keen on seeing any more. “You too, Clara-Jane, wardrobe can do without you for a little while, get your bootilicious self into the audience.
Adam turned and sailed towards the door. “Come along then people, let’s do this.”
Dennis followed, aware this might prove an unnerving experience. He was careful to sit at least four rows back in the auditorium, out of the range of the stage lights and well away from any possible interaction with the actors. Jessica herded in the group of women and persuaded them into the front row seats where there was much nudging and giggling.
Adam took a seat halfway down the front section of seats and waved to the soundman in the control room. “First track, please.”
As the first few bars of “Hot Stuff” reverberated round the almost empty auditorium, Warwick came in through the side door and stood waiting, looking up at the ceiling rose. Dennis could see him mentally counting off the beats. At the start of the second verse he ran down the aisle and sprang onto the stage, dancing energetically and looking intent
ly at the scattered women in the front row.
“Smile, Warwick! You look like you’re ready to snap at them, not seduce them!” Cathy’s voice rang out from the end of the front row and Dennis let out a surprised ‘oh!’ She must have come in while they were in the Green Room, he thought, and wondered if he could move closer to her without drawing unwanted attention to himself. But then, as he watched, Warwick jumped down and stood right in front of her, wiggling his hips and inviting her to undo his belt. As Dennis half-rose in his seat, Cathy undid the belt and playfully pulled it from around Warwick’s waist, waving it triumphantly round her head as she sat down. The other women clapped and cheered, eager to have their turn at removing clothing now they knew what was expected of them. Dennis sat back down, feeling ruffled and out of sorts. He didn’t want to watch Cathy flirting with the actors. It was uncomfortable and he wished he could retreat to the workshop and do something uncomplicated with the construction guys. He folded his arms and sighed heavily, drawing a sideways glance from Adam.
As the music came to an end, Warwick stood centre stage, then ran off.
“Good, that’ll be a nice quick exit when the lights go down,” called Adam.
There was a crash in the wings and a shout of pain.
“Watch what you’re doing, you hulking great moron! Ow!” Ricky stumbled onto the stage rubbing his shoulder. “He ran straight into me!” he complained loudly. “He could see me standing there waiting to come on and he ran right at me.”
Adam called all the actors onto the stage.
“This is a good time to block our exits and entrances,” he said, “now you can see what happens if you get it wrong. Enter through the downstage gap and exit upstage, that way there’s less chance of crashing into each other in a blackout. We don’t want any broken noses dripping blood onto the audience, do we?”