The Cinderella Murders

by David Cargill

  ‘Not much at this stage… but if I’m right I think it’s imperative that I stay with the entire group throughout the night. If anything should happen I must be in a position to play my own part.’

  ‘Count me in.’ said Freddie. ‘Two heads are better than one.’

  ‘That makes three of us then,’ said Laura, ‘but I must say I’ll be so relieved when this is all over and done with and we can let the Theatre Royal get back to putting on their own plays.’

  ‘They’ve been extremely generous,’ said Giles. ‘But I’m convinced they’ll also be equally relieved to get started with the new season of plays they’ve lined up.’

  ‘This gut feeling of yours Giles,’ said Laura, her voice quivering. ‘What did you mean when you said you thought something might be more serious than believing in ghosts? What could possibly be more serious than believing in ghosts?’

  ‘I can think of several things Laura. Some of which would be unbearable. Let me just make one statement.’ Giles took some considerable time as he pondered over what he was about to say. He looked at Laura then at Freddie. ‘Ghosts don’t fire guns!’ he said.

  ‘We are well aware of that,’ said Freddie, giving Giles a look of surprise at such a curious statement. ‘As long standing members of the Ghost Club we’ve always had certain reservations about such things as ghosts. But you were inferring something else with that cryptic remark, weren’t you?’

  ‘Hmm! I’d like to expound a bit more. Just consider this.’ Giles cleared his throat. ‘Apart from the fact that such apparitions don’t fire guns, they don’t stick daggers into arms and chests causing life’s blood to flow and they don’t speak out loudly about mummy’s curses from ancient Egypt.’ Giles smacked his hands together. ‘Do you see what I’m getting at?’

  ‘I’m beginning to, you cunning old fox. It’s not a ghost we should be worrying about, is it? It’s much more likely to be flesh and blood.’

  ‘I never thought it was a ghost we had to worry about,’ said Giles. ‘But flesh and blood comes in all shapes and sizes and apart from ourselves there are eight others who fit into that category. Eight who make up the team involved in the production of this play based on Cinderella. As I’ve previously said,’ Giles paused momentarily, ‘whoever fired that gun causing Cyril to collapse and then disappear happens to be one of that eight. And I’ll go further by reiterating that whoever spoke to Mark about the consequences of an ancient Egyptian curse was also one of those eight and, most likely, the same one.’

  ‘You seem to be fairly certain about that,’ said Freddie. ‘In the world of horse racing picking a winner from eight in a race is one of the most common attributes of the successful punter. I do this on many occasions but in most races with eight runners it is usually possible to eliminate four or five of them due to their form and you can then concentrate on picking one from the remaining three runners. But when you have no form to go on it becomes increasingly more difficult and looking at the eight involved with this play you can easily eliminate several because of what you have already called opportunity. But in this case there lies a problem. In eliminating some who could not be considered as suspects you may do so at your peril, for invariably the one you least suspect may turn out to be the one that is guilty even though the opportunity wasn’t obvious to the onlooker.’

  ‘A bit like the classic whodunnit detective story Freddie,’ said Laura, her voice whimsical. ‘What you’ve said doesn’t help matters though, does it? We’re none the wiser are we?’

  ‘No we’re not,’ said Giles. ‘Yet I can’t get away from this gut reaction I have.’

  ‘You’re still avoiding telling us the reasons for this gut reaction of yours Giles,’ said Laura. ‘Can you not confide in us?’

  Giles’ face froze with anxiety as he prepared to answer.

  ‘Did you hear what I said?’ Laura persisted.

  ‘Yes I did. But I was thinking back to a time in the Green Room when the Brigadier questioned me about a statement I’d made.’

  ‘Don’t keep us in suspense,’ said Laura. ‘What statement?’

  ‘I’d been talking about the final collapse of Cyril when the gun was fired that allegedly shot him and that the gun had been fired by someone I was addressing at the time in the Green Room.’

  ‘And?’ said Laura.

  ‘I not only mentioned that the person responsible for the shooting had to be one of them but I said I believed I knew who that person was.’

  ‘I do remember you saying that Giles,’ said Freddie, ‘but I was at a loss to know how you could be so positive.’

  ‘I wasn’t positive Freddie. I wasn’t positive then and I’m none the wiser now. But in my book the evidence is so persuasive that I have reduced the eight potential suspects to two. And of the two I have one person in mind. That person had opportunity and the will to carry it out. What puzzles me is the motive. It really seems inconceivable.’

  ‘And what if you’re wrong Giles?’ said a concerned Laura. ‘You would have great difficulty explaining that original statement of yours.’

  ‘Not really, Laura. You see when I made that statement I didn’t say I knew who the person was that fired the gun. I said I believed I knew. You must agree there’s a subtle difference.’

  ‘You can be quite devious,’ said Freddie. ‘We should all know that by now. So what’s the next step?’

  I suggest we go to the auditorium and watch how the play evolves,’ said Giles. ‘That allows us to keep a close watch on all the actors. Cindy is someone we must pay attention to and we mustn’t neglect the Brigadier or the Fairy Godmother.’

  ‘Do you honestly believe they are involved in such goings on?’ asked Laura.

  ‘Unlikely, I must admit. But in saying that I may be tempting providence,’ said Giles. ‘Let’s go and watch the play unfold and when the twins come back from the Green Room I’ll make sure the Fairy Godmother goes down to keep Mark company.’

  When Giles, Freddie and Laura took their seats in the stalls Walter was going over the scene where the Fairy Godmother was enacting the illusion by coming out of the large portrait of herself as Cindy’s dead mother and crossing to Cindy to tell her about the Brigadier’s gun and where to find it.

  The illusion was spectacular and Giles was delighted about the way things were going as the figure moved silently from the picture frame towards Cindy. But instead of the expected hush that would have audiences enthralled the kitchen door was thrown violently open and the stumbling figure of the Brigadier burst through and collapsed on the stage floor with an enormous thump.

  ‘Hold it,’ shouted Walter. ‘Bloody hell!’ he bellowed. ‘Does everyone want to play the part of falling down in a heap? I’m getting so fed up with everyone’s tantrums.’ Walter went over to the prostrate Brigadier who was groaning as he tried unsuccessfully to get back on his feet. ‘What the hell’s the meaning of this? Can’t you wait and make your entry at the proper time? You’re supposed to be a professional actor, for God’s sake. What do you think you were doing?’

  ‘I’m ever so sorry,’ said the Brigadier, slowly getting to his knees. ‘I was watching that clever dream illusion and captivated by the silence of the moment when I heard something behind me.’

  ‘Another bloody ghost I suppose,’ said Walter, shaking his head.

  ‘I don’t know what it was,’ said the Brigadier. ‘It was a voice but it didn’t sound like a human voice. I was afraid to turn round.’

  ‘Not a human voice?’ said Walter. ‘What the hell is going on here? You must have understood what the voice said. It must have been something serious that made you fall through the door and spoil such a super illusion.’

  The Brigadier shivered. ‘It was a whisper,’ he said. ‘The kind of whisper you could imagine hearing in that gallery of St. Paul’s Cathedral. Penetrating. Echoing.’

  ‘But what did the voice say, for God’s sake?’

  ‘It said… you might be next on the list.’ At that the Brigadier shuddered and
he grabbed hold of Walter to steady himself. ‘It was horrible but I steeled myself and plucked up the courage to turn round.’ He gave another shudder. ‘There was no one there.’

  ‘What?’

  ‘When I turned round there was no one there.’

  ‘You might be next on the list? Was that what the voice said?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘What the hell does that mean?’

  ‘I don’t know. But I immediately thought of Cyril and Mark and how they’ve been affected.’ His voice trailed away to a murmur. ‘I couldn’t get that damn curse out of my head and how it seems to be starting to affect everyone connected with them. I had to tear myself away from whatever was following me.’

  ‘You’re letting your imagination get the better of you and if we go on like this we’ll all end up as neurotics,’ said Walter. He made no attempt to disguise his derision. ‘Get a grip, for God’s sake, or we really will begin to wonder who’s next on the list. Whatever that means?’

  Walter nodded to Giles who had come on stage to hear what the Brigadier had to say. He then turned to the Fairy Godmother and Cindy who had been rehearsing the dream illusion when they were interrupted. ‘No need to take the gun from the hollow book Cindy but check that the gun is there. You’ll need it when we do the run-through of the play. If we ever get that far, that is. When you’ve finally managed to rid yourself of the shakes,’ he said to the Brigadier, ‘I want you and Grizelda to rehearse your important scenes and I think it’s about time for the Fairy Godmother to go to the Green Room to relieve the twins. The boys should surely be ready to start again on stage so away you go and don’t leave Mark on his own.’

  ‘I’ll stay with Mark until he’s ready to return to the stage,’ said the Fairy Godmother as she left to go to the Green Room.

  ‘Can I go to the Green Room?’ asked Cindy.

  ‘No I want you here when the twins arrive. We must go over the parts where you’re involved with Grizelda and the boys. I wish to make a few directions that might help to give the play a more dynamic tone. It would be as well to get these scenes right before we have any further disruptions. Am I making myself absolutely clear?’

  The subdued blabbering was interrupted by the sound of footsteps coming to the stage. The footsteps were those made by Dicky and Cyril and were instantly welcomed by Walter. ‘How is Mark?’ he asked. ‘Is he beginning to look more like himself?’

  ‘He’s had a nasty scare but he looks as if he’s coming round and should soon be fit enough to watch the run-through of the play very shortly.’

  Dicky’s words were so welcome to Walter that he smacked his hands together and called the cast together. ‘Now listen everyone. We’re going to go over all the scenes where the illusions take place. I want Giles to be absolutely certain that all his instructions have been met to his complete satisfaction and when Mark finally appears we must be prepared to start the run-through and, if necessary, we may have to do it over and over again even though we have to go well into the night to achieve success. Take your places everyone for the scene when Dicky and Cyril attempt to frighten Cindy with their arm stabbing act. And please no more thoughts about who’s next on the list.’

  Chapter 21

  GHOSTS DON’T FIRE GUNS

  With rehearsals about to begin once more and a full cast available to take part things were definitely beginning to take a turn for the better and this encouraging trend improved by leaps and bounds when Joyce returned to the stage to let Walter know that Harry the technician was prepared to assist in operating the trap door mechanism and would probably have the help of a fellow technician. The icing on the cake was provided when Joyce was also able to inform everyone that the theatre would be at the disposal of the Cinderella Murders crew for an additional day in order to complete what had to be done.

  This was music to everyone’s ears despite some of the cast doubting the wisdom of spending more time in the theatre of ghosts. Walter asked Giles if it would be possible to try the illusion, previously unrehearsed, of someone appearing through the locked French windows. When Giles said the illusion could be done but would require the use of an electrician to control lighting, Joyce went off to find out if the theatre’s lights man could assist.

  ‘Now we seem to be getting somewhere,’ Walter said. ‘An extra day here with the help of the Theatre Royal’s staff and we should have cracked it. But time is of the essence and we must make an all out effort to push on.’

  Walter’s words seemed to work a miracle as everyone buckled down and rehearsals continued with a crispness that had been somehow lacking before. The illusions submitted by Giles were performed with precision and when Harry appeared on stage with two other men Giles was first to hear their introductions.

  ‘This is Eric,’ said Harry. ‘I’ve roped him in to assist me in operating the trap door mechanism during your final rehearsals Giles and this is my friend Gus, our lights man. I was told you would need someone like him to help achieve the illusion of a person walking straight through a locked plate-glass window. This I’ve got to see!’ he said rubbing his hands. ‘When do you want us to begin?’

  Giles shook hands with both men then turned to Walter. ‘If you go on conducting the illusions, apart from the Artist’s Dream sequence that requires the Fairy Godmother, I’ll brief Gus and fill him in with all the details needed to create the Walking through Glass illusion and when we’re ready we’ll let you know.’

  ‘That sounds OK by me,’ Walter said. ‘But I hope Mark is not too long in getting back with us. I could do with just a little more help in getting this play ready for a first run-through. After that we should be able to put the final touches to what has been a fairly traumatic experience.’ He shivered and looked over his shoulder as if expecting to see some demonic vision coming to scare the living daylights out of him. Giles took Gus to one side but couldn’t help feeling that even a self-assured man such as Walter was beginning to have a break down because of the strange happenings of the past few days.

  In the wings Giles explained to Gus what was required to create an illusion, on stage, that most people thought could only be done in films using mirrors. Gus was an intelligent man who’d worked in theatre for most of his working life and he was quick to understand exactly what was required of him and although Giles was astute enough not to give away too many secrets about the illusion he was able to let Walter know within quarter of an hour that all was set for the walking through glass illusion to be given a try.

  ‘I want everyone off the stage,’ said Giles, taking the stocky playwright by an arm. ‘And that includes you Walter. Gus and I will prepare the French windows and I want the Brigadier to make a somewhat better entrance this time from behind the glass doors.’

  The twin brothers left the stage with Cindy and Walter, and when everyone was seated in the auditorium Giles went over to the Brigadier and had a few quiet words with him before making sure the French windows were closed. Giles moved to the wings where Gus was situated. The stage was empty and silence pervaded the entire area. The lights of the auditorium were switched off and the house was thrown into total darkness. Gradually the stage lights dimmed and the figure of the Brigadier was picked out by a glow showing him approaching the closed windows. Without a sound being heard the Brigadier moved towards the glass and with no hesitation he appeared to walk straight through without the windows opening. The figure stopped and imperceptibly the stage lights brightened to show that the Brigadier had performed an unbelievable illusion.

  The silence was instantly broken by two quite different sounds. The applause by those sitting in the auditorium and the cries of despair made by the Fairy Godmother as she rushed on to the stage to tell everyone that something had gone wrong with Mark. He’d somehow gone into some kind of relapse and was now frothing at the mouth.

  Getting up from his seat Walter ranted at the Fairy Godmother. ‘Give me strength,’ he sighed dramatically. ‘I thought I told you not to leave him on his own you stupid woman.�
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  ‘I just had to come and get some help. I think you’d better come as he looks quite ill.’

  There was a quick exodus from the stage and Giles joined Walter on the way to the Green Room. ‘That illusion was brilliant Giles,’ said Walter. ‘We’ll leave that in the play and decide who plays the part of walking through those windows. But let’s see what has gone wrong with Mark.’

  When they reached the Green Room Mark was huddled in a chair. His face was pale and the froth on his mouth was starkly white against the colour of his lips.

  Walter got a tissue and started to clean Mark’s mouth while Giles took a good look at Mark’s face and the puzzled expression on the magician’s features took on a look that suggested he was coming to certain conclusions. Conclusions he found were rather disturbing but which were not too far away from his previous concepts.

  The Fairy Godmother appeared with a glass of water and when Mark’s lips were finally clear of all the froth she let him have a sip from the glass.

  ‘Has he now gone mad?’ Walter asked Giles as he turned to the illusionist. ‘I knew he was obsessed with that Egyptian curse but is he raving bonkers?’

  ‘I wouldn’t put it as strongly as that,’ said Giles. ‘Although it might seem to be the most likely scenario I don’t think he’s gone mad. In fact I’m sure he not raving bonkers as you indelicately suggested. I half expected something like this might happen at some stage.’ He gave Walter a soft pat on the back. ‘But I didn’t expect it to happen quite like this.’

  ‘You’re a rum one Giles,’ Walter said, frowning. ‘You say you half expected Mark to froth at the mouth yet you seem adamant that he isn’t mad. I’m not sure I understand how you come to that conclusion.’

  ‘Well I didn’t put it quite like you say Walter. I didn’t say that I half expected Mark to froth at the mouth.’ Giles was not in any hurry to continue. He cleared his throat and gave a little shake of the head. His voice lowered and became sensitive. ‘Mark is genuinely convinced that he’s under an old Egyptian curse, a curse that has somehow bedevilled his entire family for generations. That in itself creates an image to onlookers that he’s practically off his rocker. But he’s not mad in the sense that he should froth at the mouth and I did not anticipate that he would appear quite as affected as we’ve just seen him. I did think however that sooner or later something would disturb him so badly that his whole being would eventually show a reaction of derangement but I wasn’t aware that it might come like this.’ He scratched his ear. ‘I keep thinking back to a statement I made recently… Ghosts don’t fire guns.’