Thursday Club Mysteries: All 7 stories

by Sheila Hudson

  “Well I hadn’t really considered,” Hattie said as a tiny smile crinkled her face. “Who’s going to play Mortimer?”

  “I haven’t really considered. Mortimer is a very important character,” I answered.

  The twinkle was back and I knew without asking that Hattie would be my Abby. Martha was a toss-up between Clara and Blanche Ledbetter. I would make a decision tomorrow.

  I focused on the audition for the male leads: Mortimer the nephew, Teddy his brother, and Jonathan, the scalawag other brother. It was hard to picture just anybody in those roles since I kept seeing Cary Grant and Peter Laurie. I’d seen the movie several times and no one living in Athena came close to their portrayals.

  I tried to sweet talk my husband into auditioning for Mortimer. Tom fit the bill. He is tall and good at memorizing. His exact words were – “there’s not enough money in the world.” I then reminded him that we were all volunteers. He turned his back and went into the study. I interpreted that as a ‘maybe.’

  Who could I find to play the creepy perverted Jonathan? Or the demented Dr. Einstein? The reverend should be easy. He only had a few lines.

  Kenny, Clara’s law enforcing nephew, would be a perfect police officer. Her boyfriend, Derek, might be interested in one of the male leads. They were both agile and attractive young men. Perhaps having Derek close every night for a few weeks would be enough incentive for Clara to use her powers of persuasion.

  Howard, Hattie’s friend who owned the Somewhere Bar, was another male lead possibility. I wonder if he can act. But surely someone with his prowess in business could run down the stairs and shout “Bully” occasionally. He was sturdy built so I was confident he could hoist a shovel and mumble something about finishing the Panama Canal. Howard is sweet on Hattie so getting her to recruit Howard would be another smart move. When did I become so devious? Must be show biz. Deviousness and alcoholism go hand in hand. I’m going down a dark path.

  Tom and I are the new kids on the block. Thankfully there are plenty of ‘seasoned veterans’ willing to volunteer as set builders, costumers, make-up artists, and gophers willing to do the innumerable tasks that come with putting on a production.

  What I really needed was a general to organize the troops with finesse and grace. Perhaps I was too close to some of them to demand their utmost respect. What I needed was a neutral go-between. Why did I ever think I could do this?

  On Monday morning, Derek stepped up and outperformed everyone at the audition thus winning the part of Mortimer Brewster, drama critic and confirmed bachelor. Clara was in awe of his dramatic prowess. I could hardly tear her away. Later, she grabbed me in the hallway.

  “What do you think about someone else playing Martha Brewster instead of me? I mean with Derek playing the Cary Grant role, isn’t it logical that I should be Elaine – the girlfriend?” Clara whined her request like a four-year-old.

  “Well if that happens who will play Martha Brewster?” I answered.

  “Blanche, perhaps?” Clara responded. No way was she going to relinquish her hold on Derek no matter what it costs.

  “Okay I’ll ask her,” I said knowing that she hadn’t expressed any interest. If Blanche agreed to be Martha, then maybe Leona, Blanche’s sister, might be persuaded to be Elaine’s mother – Mrs. Harper. The latter had only a few lines, so perhaps I wouldn’t hear the “I thought you were my best friend card.”

  Whew. Who knew that being a director of a community play was so political?

  My to-do list was growing by the minute but for our second rehearsal, we needed a window seat and a mannequin for the corpse.

  First run through. Act 1. Mortimer and Elaine come to tell the aunts about their engagement when Mortimer finds a corpse in the window seat. Mortimer asks his maiden aunts about the corpse in the window seat, they reveal their ministry of helping lonely old men find peace by administering elderberry wine laced with arsenic. Hattie is perfect. The deadpan look of innocence on both she and Blanche was priceless. Then again I think Blanche always looks that way.

  “CUT. Derek, you need to work on your surprised look when you open the window seat. Hattie and Blanche, your interaction was great. Both of you, please speak up a little. Elaine, I mean Clara, you did a great job of looking at your intended with adoration.”

  We ran through it a few more times before I dismissed them for lunch. Rehearsal times would be staggered because not everyone was retired. I decided one more run through was in order before we broke for the day. The cast so far were doing pretty well, but what did I know? Maybe this wouldn’t be the disaster I imagined.

  On Tuesday I planned a few auditions for support cast and bit parts. Some were walk-ons that the backstage people would help me with. I wondered if I should post the list but I think everyone knew through word of mouth. Not much goes on around here that isn’t public in a few hours.

  Would the postmaster, Wally, make a convincing Jonathan, Mortimer’s evil brother? I had yet to find out. I still needed a Dr. Einstein. We had a dearth of men who volunteered for speaking parts. Somehow I managed the rest of the week with parts filled, props built, and some insight as to what needed to be done.

  Thank God for the weekend. I needed time to prioritize my duties, get a grip on how to be a director, and touch base with Howard. This production is growing by the minute. I also need to make arrangements for the after-party celebration and get the tickets printed. I really hope African orphans appreciate my hard work on their behalf.

  I arranged for lunches during the week to be catered by Miss Pauline’s Cafe. In return, I agreed to put her name in the bulletin and advertise for her. Catering was something new she was trying.

  The weekend went much too quickly. Monday rolled around again. I blew the whistle and everyone assembled for the last run through of the day.

  “Okay places everyone. Remember my comments on our last run through. Try and incorporate those into your dialogue and facial expressions. Everyone ready? And go.”

  Derek’s acting had taken on a new realism when he opened the window seat. His face was positively contorted. I searched my notes. Hattie wasn’t supposed to scream.

  I stood up and shouted, “What’s going on?”

  Derek pulled himself up to his full six feet and announced, “There’s a body in the window seat. A real body!”

  2

  “What? Are you sure? Someone from props was supposed to put a mannequin in the window seat.”

  “I believe that we know a body when we see one. And this is one. A dead one,” Hattie remarked. “And what’s more I know who he is. Cyrus Vanderfield of the New York Vanderfields.”

  After the police dismissed us, I called off rehearsals until further notice. We were all in shock and needed some ‘down’ time. My nerves were too jangled for me to think clearly.

  The next morning my cell announced a call from my sister, Debra. I didn’t know if someone in the family had died or if it was good news. Just to be safe, I let it go to voice mail.

  “Hey Roxy. I’ll be in town this afternoon for a few days. Can we meet around 5ish? Thought we could have some sister time and check out the new restaurant, Go Fish, I’ve been hearing about.”

  Debra was always up on everything. She was the sophisticate in the family. She knew about fusion and Feng Shui before it was a thing. Debra was into midis, minis, and fashion trends as soon as they hit the runway. And if that wasn’t enough, she kept up on the world of entertainment. Debra was a walking social media machine with a blonde pageboy. Perhaps this was the answer to my prayers.

  If memory served, Debra did a stint in summer stock. I wonder if she’d ever directed any plays, but even if she hadn’t Debra certainly had more experience than me. At least she’d been IN a play, a feat which I had avoided like the plague. Now it seems the theatre gods were punishing me.

  I returned her call.

  Debra answered.

  “Hi Sis. What a surprise I didn’t know you were coming to town! Reservations at Go Fish for 5 o�
��clock. That sounds perfect. I’ll check with Tom and see if he is available. His evenings are sometimes filled with committee or board meetings. I’ll meet you there. Bye.”

  Conversations with my sister were often one sided with me filling in “uh-uhs, yes, or I see.” Debra was annoyingly gregarious and never met a stranger which came in handy when we were together. The biggest drawback of being with my sister was that I tended to transform into my old introverted self when she was around – a trait I never thought I’d be thankful for. But if things worked out as I hoped, it just might be to my advantage.

  “Hello Roxy. Over here,” Debra yelled across the dining room. Athena is not a large city so thanks to my sis, everyone within earshot knew that I was eating dinner with a blonde stranger. That should keep the gossip line hot for hours. Maybe I should have brought a poster board with SHE’S MY SISTER printed on it – just to satisfy everyone’s curiosity.

  “Hey yourself,” I replied when I neared the table set for three. I gave her a hug and an air kiss then took a seat opposite her. She was still standing and looking at the entrance.

  “Tom isn’t going to be able to make it. Emergency board meeting.” With that she looked disappointed and plopped down. When the waiter appeared, Debra requested that the extra place setting to be removed. Tom and Debra had a relationship called ‘it’s complicated.’

  “So what brings you to this part of the world?” I asked my little sister.

  “I needed a distraction from work and from some of my friends,” she answered.

  With that last remark ‘some of my friends’ I read between the lines. That meant male friends and one in particular who wanted to marry her – Robin. He had been asking for years but Debra didn’t want to commit. When was she going to realize that she was no longer a spring chicken? And neither was he.

  We sipped our Chardonnay and talked about family, mutual friends, and things in general. Then I popped the question: ‘have you ever directed a play?’

  “No not exactly. I was script girl once, been in dozens of community theatre productions, audience participation plays, and once I co-directed a children’s Christmas special.”

  “You’re hired,” I said quickly. I didn’t know what half that stuff was but I knew that I needed help and this was the life preserver God has tossed my way. She was, after all my sister, how could she refuse?

  Before she could run away I ordered another round of drinks and explained the situation I found myself in. When she finished laughing, Debra agreed to sign on as my assistant (but we both knew she’d be doing the real directing).

  In return I promised to host several family functions, sign and mail her holiday cards, and I may have deeded over all my jewelry – really not sure. But it didn’t matter, she could have asked for anything except Tom. Oh yeah. She’d be staying with us for the duration. Tom would be THRILLED about that.

  3

  I settled Debra into the guest room and helped her unpack five pieces of luggage. Was she planning on relocating? Like Scarlett, I’ll think about that tomorrow.

  We retreated to the den and began planning. She quizzed me on some theatrical terms that I needed to know in order to pull off this bluff. I suppose it was my pride that kept me from just giving her the full director job. I could always paint scenery, take tickets, and do the hundred and one things backstage. “Pride goes before a fall” bounced around in my head but I tried to ignore it.

  “Are you sure you didn’t intend to stay?” I asked.

  “Why do you ask?” she said.

  “Well you brought quite an assortment of clothes,” I continued.

  “A girl never knows what she will need or how the weather will be,” Debra pulled out her compact and inspected her hair and make-up. That was the universal sister language for ‘this conversation is over. Move on.’

  “Um Debra. There’s one thing I forgot to tell you. . . “

  She gasped when I told her about the corpse. But it was too late, she was committed.

  4

  The next rehearsal day came. Debra and I arrived at the temporary quarters of the Community Playhouse, the church basement. After poor the victim was identified and removed, the police cordoned off the playhouse. We were to use the church basement until further notice.

  Hattie was the first to arrive via the Golden Palms people mover. Her Royal Highness wheeled in fully arrayed in a navy pants suit with a red pillbox hat plopped down upon her silver curls. It was all I could do to stifle a giggle and say “where’s your monkey?” but I didn’t dare. Hattie was the nearest thing Athena had to royalty.

  I made the introductions. Debra was on her best behavior and listened patiently to Hattie’s suggestions for the play. When she was certain I was out of earshot, Hattie proceeded to comment on everything I’d done wrong as director.

  “Roxy and I will be co-directing the play,” Debra said with a little cough.

  Hattie’s eyebrows went up. I could see a long discussion was to be forthcoming. The other cast members began arriving and interrupted the private tete-a-tete.

  Blanche had most of her lines memorized and so did Clara, who was over the moon to play Elaine, Mortimer’s intended. Maybe she reasoned this would push Derek thinking in the right direction.

  “Okay everyone. Please take a seat. I have a few announcements before we get started,” I said as everyone made their way to the rows of folding chairs. I introduced Debra as my sister and my co-director.

  “Debra will be coaching you on how to memorize and deliver your lines. She will be blocking the scenes, choosing script personnel, and approving sketch designs for the set builders.”

  After saying all of that, I wondered: ‘just what will I be doing?’ Probably whatever Debra decides that I should do. I had no idea what needed to be done on most of those fronts so I said a ‘thank you’ to God for sending my sister at this particular time of need.

  Kenny needed no prompting as to how to portray a policeman since he really was one. It also proved a moot point since no one else auditioned for the part. Plus he was already on the scene when the body was discovered.

  Howard made an ideal Teddy. His voice and mannerisms were exactly what the role called for. Hattie was pleased as punch that they would be together so much and together they stayed at every opportunity. Anthony aka Tony, Suzy’s husband, opted for off stage duties. It seems that he had some stage hand experience and was especially gifted at design. Who knew? God does indeed provide.

  Suzy kept herself busy in costumes and make up. That petite little blonde who once drove a truck was also into Mary Kay cosmetics. Who knew? Suzy was indeed a gift from above. If only that pesky corpse hadn’t shown up in the window sill, this production might have a chance.

  Debra called a lunch break. All the major roles were cast and the builders knew what props we needed to begin rehearsal. I was relieved and owed my sister big time, but I couldn’t let her know how much. It’s a sister thing!

  “So be honest, Sis, how is it looking on a scale of 1 to 10?” I knew it was dangerous to ask but I did it anyway. She finished her bite of hummus and grilled shitake mushroom pita and wiped her lips.

  “To tell you the truth, I have seen much worse. With the cooperation of everyone, I think we can pull it off. We only have a month so it will take extra rehearsals. We need memorization coaches working overtime, people making cue cards, and a few more extras but the charity deserves our best. And they are going to get it!”

  With that she turned back to her sandwich and kale chips. I, on the other hand, munched a totally unhealthy burger and fries. I had to have some reward for my longsuffering. In her little soliloquy my sister had let me know that (1) she was staying for at least a month and (2) she was in charge. I was okay with that but Tom might have different ideas. Could he take living with sisters in the household?

  And what about the crime committed right under our noses and placed on stage for us to find? Who was responsible for that? Was it meant to send a message? If so what
would that message be and who was the message for?

  Debra blew her whistle to signal lunch break was over. We gathered for a run through of Acts 1-3.

  “Martha, Abby, Mortimer. Please take your places,” came the authoritative voice of my director/sister.

  “Excuse me. Miss Debra,” Kenny interrupted.

  “Yes, Kenny,” Debra turned toward him.

  “I have to take someone into custody.”

  “Here? Now?” Debra said.

  “Yes ma’am. “ Kenny approached our leading lady. “Hattie Sewell, I have been ordered to escort you to the police station. You are a person of interest in the death of Cyrus Vanderfield.”

  5

  I don’t remember what happened next. Shock does that to a person. Debra dismissed everyone and I phoned Tom to go to the police station and do whatever he could for Hattie. As for the lady in question, she seemed to take everything in stride. At first I think she believed she’d been punked, but when Kenny announced that the police possessed evidence that Hattie was the last person to see Cyrus Vanderfield alive Hattie became a believer.

  Debra and I got to the police station at the speed of light. Hattie was still in the custody reception room. In spite of the circumstance, Hattie maintained her regal air and refused to become ruffled.

  “Hattie, why in the world did they arrest you?” was the first thing out of my mouth.

  “They found my fingerprints on Cyrus’ wallet and credit cards,” was her calm reply.

  “How did that happen?” was my next question.

  “We had coffee yesterday and talked about some of our shared past. He had to go to the men’s room and asked me to take his wallet and pay the waitress. So naturally my prints are on everything.”