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The Cinderella Murders

Page 5

by David Cargill


  Jane Ferris who was to play the Fairy Godmother got to her feet.

  ‘Yes Jane, what is it now?’ Walter said, in an exasperated tone of voice.

  ‘I was wondering if Giles might be able to enlighten us about possible illusions when we stop for lunch.’

  Walter turned towards Giles at which point the professor of magic gave the thumbs-up sign and a faint flicker of a smile crossed his face as he acknowledged his intention.

  ‘That seems to be all,’ said Mark as he flicked open his copy of the play. ‘I want every one of you to pay particular attention to the scene I am about to describe. That will stand you in good stead when we rehearse on a real stage.’ He paused and looked around at the cast.

  ‘The scene,’ he said, reading from the script, ‘is the lounge of BRIGADIER GERALD GRANGER’s house near Mayfair in London. It is early afternoon in late August. It is a bright well-furnished room. Small tables with vases of flowers on them are dotted around the room. French windows are Back Left overlooking a tennis court. The French windows are open and sunshine is flooding the room. Back Right there is a bookcase and Down Left is a large sofa. An ornate fireplace is Centre of the wall Right. To the right of the fireplace is a door leading to other parts of the house. To the Left of the fireplace there is a photograph of a lady.’ Mark broke off his description and raised his head. ‘The photograph was to be of Brigadier Granger’s late wife who was Cindy’s mother,’ he said, glancing across to Giles. ‘But our magician has suggested that instead of the photograph we can have a large portrait of the lady and his illusion will bring her to life when she can deliver her lines as the Fairy Godmother.’ This was met with a cry of delight from Jane, who was going to play the part of the godmother.

  Mark smiled before continuing his spiel. ‘A door down Left leads to the kitchen and other parts of the house. A young woman is alone in the room and she is on her knees polishing the surround of the fireplace. She is dressed in a shabby sombre smock over a dress that has seen better days. As she stops the polishing to wipe the sweat from her brow a lady comes in through the French windows. The lady is the stepmother Grizelda to be played by Eleanor Mansfield. We can now begin reading Act 1 Scene 1.

  As the reading began, with the cast speaking their lines from the script, Giles started to read what was printed in his copy of the play.

  GRIZELDA:

  What on earth are you doing? Have you not finished yet? It’ll soon be time for lunch and my boys will be starving when they come in from the tennis court. You’d better get a move on. (Enraged she snaps her fingers)

  (Cindy wipes a tear from her cheek but says nothing)

  GRIZELDA:

  Leave what you’re doing, girl and get back to the kitchen and be quick about it.

  (Cindy rises to her feet and exits down Left without saying a word) (Brigadier Gerald enters from the French windows. He is distressed)

  BRIGADIER GERALD:

  Where is my Cindy? (He says in a weak flustered voice) I’ve been looking for her all over the garden.

  GRIZELDA:

  You’ll need to do something with that slut of a girl. (She sniggers) She’s useless – does nothing properly. No appreciation of all we’ve done for her. Really Gerald, if you can’t deal with her, I will – then she’ll know who’s the boss in this house.

  BRIGADIER GERALD:

  I’ll do what I can but my poor Cindy has never been the same since the untimely death of her mother. (He lifts the picture of the mother and gazes affectionately at the photograph before placing it back on the table)

  It was at that point that Mark stopped the reading. ‘This will fortunately have to be altered,’ he said with obvious pleasure. ‘Thankfully with our magician’s illusion we’ll replace the photograph with a portrait of the lady and Gerald will go over to the picture and gaze at it with adoration. Now let’s continue,’ he said glancing at his watch again.

  With the disclosure of the change that was to be made Giles felt elated to know that his illusion of the Artist’s Dream was assured. He was quietly confident that the startling effect would make the audience gasp with amazement. He made some notes and started to look at the script again.

  (Enter the two step-sons from the French windows. They are wearing shorts and carry tennis racquets which they throw on the sofa)

  CYRIL:

  Where is that little brat? She knows we want our racquets in their presses ready for our next game. (Turning to the Brigadier) You’re not strict enough with her. If you ask me she needs a good spanking.

  DICKY:

  Allow me. I’ll show her what a real man can do. (Raucous laughter from both)

  As the morning drew to a close and the reading of the play gradually approached the concluding lines of the first Act, Giles went through the copious notes he’d made about possible illusions, paying particular attention to the high tension between the heroine Cindy and the two step-sons Cyril and Dicky goaded on by their mother Grizelda.

  During the reading both Mark and Walter had stressed the importance of accentuating the smutty and malicious behaviour of the threesome whose continual provoking of Cindy might eventually lead to far-reaching consequences.

  When the reading of the first Act was finished the two playwrights thanked everyone for their contribution and seemed satisfied with the way things were going.

  The housekeeper brought in trays of fruit, sandwiches, pots of tea and coffee while Giles took Marlene, who was playing the heroine Cindy, to a corner of the room where he produced, from thin air, a small pistol. Laura went over and had a word with Marlene and Giles after which plates of sandwiches and cups of coffee were brought over to them.

  When lunch was over and all the dishes had been cleared away Giles took Mark to one side. ‘Your sweet Marlene requires very little tuition in handling a small firearm,’ he said confidently. ‘With a little practice her ability to produce and conceal an object with dexterity will be as good as a professional magician. I think you’ll be pleasantly surprised.’

  ‘That’s great news,’ said Mark, somewhat relieved. ‘I’m quite sure she’ll have learned such legerdemain by watching you even though she was with you for such a short time.’

  ‘Only in part. Some things can’t be taught. Marlene is a natural. I got the impression she had done this kind of thing before.’ Giles paused for a moment, his slightly furrowed brow showing concern as if he’d said something untoward.

  ‘Something wrong Giles?’ Mark hesitated as he witnessed the anxiety shown by the magician. ‘I only wish Malcolm Kelly, who plays the stepson Cyril, proves as proficient, as you seem to think Marlene is, when he collapses to the floor after being shot. He’s having great difficulty playing dead. I know that to be a fact. However I’m not sure who can coach him in the art of dying with conviction. Unless, of course, we can cast a spell on him and he dies for real.’

  ‘I’ve come up with an idea,’ Giles said briskly, changing the subject, his frown disappearing as he spoke. ‘I took down some notes when you mentioned the changing of the godmother’s photograph to a portrait and I decided that when you and Walter make the next visit to attend Laura’s mother’s birthday you’ll be able to have the first showing of the illusion where the godmother comes down from the painting to deliver her lines to her daughter.’

  ‘That’s splendid, but does the actress who plays the godmother have to be present for the illusion?’

  ‘No we can do it without her,’ Giles said with a loving smile on his face and a glint in his blue eyes as he spoke. ‘I’ll have a very special stand-in for the part,’ he said as Laura approached and placed a hand on his shoulder. ‘After you’ve seen the demonstration I’ll show you exactly what’s required for the illusion to be done on stage. But,’ he added with a little shake of the head, ‘I won’t be giving away all the secrets of the illusion. You must understand that.’

  ‘Of course. Of course.’ Mark said with a trace of disappointment in his voice. ‘I suppose I hardly need to be privy to the
magical know-how of the stage magician just so long as the illusion is of jaw-dropping effect.’

  ‘I guarantee you’ll not be disappointed when you watch this illusion on Hallowe’en,’ Giles reassured him. ‘It will take me back to the time I saw this being done on a Glasgow stage when I was accompanied by my first girlfriend.’ There was a reminiscent expression on Giles’ face as he hesitated. ‘I’m aware,’ he went on, ‘that you haven’t yet made any decision regarding where you might be allowed to rehearse. It might be quite difficult finding a theatre willing to let you use their stage but if you haven’t made any plans by the end of October there’s just a possibility that Laura may be able to help.’

  ‘We’ll bear that in mind,’ Walter said brusquely as he stepped in to interrupt the conversation between Giles and Mark. With his hands thrust deeply in his pockets Walter turned to face the cast. ‘Can we now get on with things?’ he said impatiently. ‘We have another two Acts to get through and we don’t want to overstay our welcome.’ Giles and Laura exchanged glances, amused at the arrogance of the man.

  ‘Can you possibly be thinking what I’m thinking?’ Giles whispered to Laura.

  ‘Big shot playwright!’ Laura raised her eyebrows and smiled.

  ‘Exactly!’ Giles replied knowingly. ‘Where has your mother gone?’ he asked raising his voice. ‘She seems to have disappeared. I didn’t see her leave the room when lunch was brought in.’

  ‘Mother was tired and wanted a lie down. Doreen took her up a tray.’

  ‘She did well listening to the reading of the play,’ Giles said, with a congratulatory nod of the head.

  ‘It might have been a trifle harrowing for her. She hates anything at all unpleasant,’ Laura said.

  ‘Can we cut out the talking?’ Walter said removing his hands from his pockets and slamming one fist on the table. ‘The next Act must show in no uncertain terms how the behaviour of the two step-sons, aided and abetted by their mother, is having such a devastating effect on Cindy. An effect that is reducing her to tears of utter despair.’ He glowered at Giles and Laura. ‘I won’t have anyone prattling on about anything whatever that isn’t relevant to the reading of this play.’

  The astonished look on Laura’s face at such an outburst was instantly noticed by Giles. Her startled stare signified distaste at Walter’s behaviour. She rose and walked quickly from the room.

  Giles made a mental note of the unreasonable storm of rage and marked Walter Bradley down as a man who would fly into a temper at the least provocation. With an effort he remembered he’d been asked to conjure up some mind-bending illusions and not to pass judgement on how the playwright – producer of a theatrical play should behave. It was perhaps essential to be short with actors who were not giving of their best, yet he suddenly realised the unprovoked outrage was directed at Laura and himself rather than the actors. It was excessive and unforgivable. He quite definitely did not like the man.

  As Act 2 progressed Mark stressed the importance of increasing the aggression shown by Grizelda and her sons towards Cindy and for the Brigadier and his daughter to become more helpless in the face of such antagonism. Devastated by the death of his wife the Brigadier was now a shell of a man. Bullied and constantly belittled as he was by Grizelda and her obnoxious sons.

  Towards the end of the Act the two sons were to be involved in a heated argument. They were to quarrel about which of them was to cause the greatest harm to Cindy. According to the script they were to be committed to some form of fisticuffs in her presence. Giles was making some notes when Mark stopped proceedings.

  ‘Is there any chance, Giles?’ he said anxiously, ‘any chance that an illusion could be devised that would add realism to the fit of anger between the step-sons and yet scare the hell out of Cindy?’

  ‘I’m sure of it,’ Giles responded mirthfully. ‘Do you remember when we were discussing types of illusions and I mentioned Solid-through-solid?’

  ‘What on earth is that?’ Walter Bradley bellowed.

  Slightly taken aback by the abruptness of the question Giles looked Walter straight in the eye and pondered for a few seconds. ‘Well,’ the magician said taking his time. ‘Solid-through-solid is a term used by illusionists when they contrive to have a solid object penetrate another solid object with no tell-tale sign that the penetration ever took place. With regard to the fit of anger between the step-sons if one of them was to pull a knife on the other and stab him in the arm I have no doubt the action should be scary enough to cause your leading lady to collapse in terror. An audience would think that was a reasonable thing to happen and when the girl recovers from her fainting spell she finds the wound is no longer there. The boys can then joke that she must have dreamed the entire incident but suggest that is exactly what they’ll do to her if she doesn’t give in to them.’

  ‘That’s so much better than two lads bashing the living daylights out of each other with their fists,’ Mark declared excitedly. ‘Can this be achieved realistically?’

  ‘Guaranteed.’ Giles said confidently.

  The two playwrights gazed at each other and nodded their immediate approval. ‘Great! Much better than the punch-up.’ said Mark.

  ‘Can this illusion be carried out with the sight of blood oozing from the supposed wound?’ Walter asked.

  ‘No problem. That’s all part of the act and the sight of blood will make the effect more amazing. You could have the room in semi-darkness with a light shining on the bleeding wound.’

  ‘The light could come from a specific source such as a window or a standard lamp,’ Walter said as he rubbed his hands. ‘With a light shining on a bleeding wound caused by a large knife plunged into a bare arm the effect would be terrifying,’ he said dramatically.

  ‘It would have the audience on the edge of their seats,’ said Giles. ‘Especially if it takes place as the curtain begins to fall. What could be better than to end the Act with a Stab in the Dark?’

  Chapter 7

  NOTHING IS IMPOSSIBLE

  Before the reading of Act 3 had started the two playwrights had a short discussion after which Mark announced that he would now allow questions to be asked as the cast hadn’t been given the opportunity at lunch time.

  Marlene, who had spent most of the first two Acts weeping and cowering in the role of the persecuted Cindy, raised a hand.

  ‘Yes, Marlene?’ Mark asked. ‘What can I do for you? As you haven’t had many lines to speak now’s your chance.’

  ‘Presumably the gun I use in the last Act will be firing blanks. Will there be much of a recoil when the gun is fired?’

  ‘Naturally,’ said Mark with exasperated frankness. ‘The gun will fire blanks as do all guns used on stage. There will be a slight recoil as the gun will be a small type normally used by ladies but nothing like the recoil from a gun firing real bullets. So no need for you, Marlene, to fall backwards on firing. Anything else?’

  ‘Just one thing more, Mark. Could the gun fire real bullets?’

  ‘Why? Are you considering committing real murder by any chance?’ said Mark. ‘As far as I know it’s designed purely to fire blanks. But our professor of magic might enlighten us a little more. Such weapons must be used often in magical tricks.’

  ‘A gun used to fire blank cartridges will, and,’ said Giles with obvious reluctance, ‘depending on the type of gun, can fire bullets, but the gun would itself probably blow up when fired and severely injure the person using the weapon.’

  ‘Can we get on with this final Act?’ Walter spluttered impatiently as he glowered at his co-playwright. ‘All this pointless questioning is just holding up proceedings. What on earth does it matter what the gun can or can’t do?’

  The tension between the two playwrights was nothing compared to the high tension that developed in Act 3 of The Cinderella Murders and Giles remembered what Mark had told him the first time they’d met. Mark had said that it was Walter’s idea they write a play based loosely on the original fairy tale Cinderella but using spectacular e
ffects. For reasons of his own however, he did not wish to be acknowledged as co-author. Giles wondered what reasons Walter had for withholding his identity and strangely enough the word murder entered his thoughts. Was he being irrational in thinking of such an unlikely outcome? Had the previous two thorny and puzzling cases involving the heinous crime of murder that he’d had to solve as a detective pervaded his brain? Surely not? But what if.…?

  Putting all such thoughts out of his mind Giles tried to concentrate by following the script in front of him. Early on in the script he made extensive notes regarding the disgusting behaviour towards Cindy by the two step-sons egged on by their mother Griselda. At one point the reading was interrupted by Walter who asked Giles if he could suggest some kind of illusion that could create in Cindy the fear of ghosts.

  At the mention of the word ghosts Giles caught a glimpse of the ashen pallor that registered Mark’s innate fear. It was fleeting but Giles was in no doubt that the remark by Walter had been intended to induce in Mark a resurgence of his dread of an evil curse. For a short spell the magician went into a brief daze.

  ‘My dear Professor Dawson you seem to be in a quandary. Have I asked you to do the impossible?’ Walter demanded gloatingly.

  ‘I’m so sorry, my dear Mr Bradley,’ Giles replied, coming out of his temporary stupor. ‘But I must remind you that as a magician nothing is impossible!’

  ‘In that case,’ said the rather deflated playwright, ‘can you come up with something to put the fear of the supernatural into Cindy?’

  ‘Absolutely! You and your co-author have already turned the impossible into the possible by casting identical twins in the roles of the two step-sons. That combination is a magician’s dream.’

  The flummoxed expression on Walter’s face was enough to bring Mark into the conversation. ‘I see what you’re getting at,’ Mark said nodding his head and hesitating as if remembering a previous occurrence. ‘When we introduced the cast this morning you had difficulty telling the two boys apart. You immediately declared that they were the perfect double act to use in an illusion.’

 

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