“Now, Roger,” Paula continued, “would you be kind enough to give me a hand with the drinks?” She made her way to the drinks table and asked over her shoulder, “Audrey, what can I get you?”
Before Audrey could respond, Maxine answered for both of them. “She’ll have a small vodka and tonic, no ice, and I’ll have a tonic with ice, please.”
A moment later, a young woman entered the room with a tray of canapés. Audrey shook her head as the woman approached her, but Maxine accepted a pale-blue napkin and helped herself to a small mushroom vol-au-vent and a mini quiche.
The conversation started off strained and awkward, but civil. Audrey’s eyes flickered from Ray to Charlotte and back again, narrowing slightly. She said something in a low voice to her sister, who then turned to speak to Edmund and Paula as Audrey joined Ray and Charlotte.
“Well, hello again,” she said brightly to Ray. “Hello, Charlotte. Paula certainly has a lovely home, doesn’t she? I especially like the fence and gate! No unwanted prowlers here!” Ray smiled and Audrey gave him a sly look before moving on to exchange a few words with the Harrison couple. A few minutes later, dinner was announced, and they all moved into the oak-paneled dining room. When they were seated, the server placed a bowl of steaming tomato-and-basil soup in front of each diner and then circled the table pouring wine. Gradually, the din of congenial conversation filled the room as the guests relaxed and almost began to enjoy themselves.
The server removed the soup bowls and set an entrée in front of everyone. Knowing where Paula was now going to steer the conversation, Charlotte braced herself. One way or another, someone would be going home unhappy.
“Now then. Might I have your attention, please?” Paula Van Dusen tapped her water glass with her knife. The room fell silent, and all eyes turned expectantly toward her. “I think it best if I just get right to it. Our new director, Edmund Albright”—she tipped her head in his direction—“arrived with an unusual proposal that caught us all off guard: that the upcoming production of Much Ado About Nothing be performed as a Civil War piece, specifically set in the North. There was resistance, if not outright opposition, to the idea among some of the cast and crew, as well as board members, but because of the way Edmund’s contract is worded, the board has no authority to override his artistic decision. Two of our board members are with us tonight, but I can assure you all the rest have been consulted. So speaking as the chairperson of the board, it falls to me to say that after much discussion and consideration, we have decided . . .”
Edmund leaned forward while Audrey rested her elbow on the table and, after glancing nervously at her sister, covered her mouth with the tips of her fingers. Sensing what was coming, Charlotte held her breath.
“. . . that we are giving our approval for the Civil War production.”
Edmund’s face creased into a big grin as he exclaimed, “Yes!”
Roger Harrison picked up where Paula left off. “We liked the idea of creating something fresh and new. We think this production will attract a lot of attention—especially from the New York media—get people talking, and really put the theater on the map. We expect it will bring in bigger audiences later into the season.
“But we didn’t make the decision alone. We polled an online Shakespeare course, and we spoke to local educators. Everyone is quite excited about the idea, and I must admit, so are we. To be honest, at first we were heartily against the idea, but we did come ’round to seeing it as something we should try. Especially since next year is the four hundredth anniversary of Shakespeare’s death, and theater groups around the world are going to show how relevant and timeless his body of work really is.”
“It’s all about modernizing the play,” said Sonja Harrison. “Well, modernizing it into the nineteenth century.”
“I’ve just had this terrific idea,” said Edmund. “Let’s have the two brothers, Don Pedro and Don John, as soldiers fighting on opposite sides during the war. One for the North, one for the South.”
“Well, that’ll be for you to work out,” said Paula. “Now I know there are budget concerns,” she continued, anticipating Charlotte’s protests, “so we’re allocating from our reserve funds what we think is an adequate amount for costumes. We don’t think whole new sets will be required, but appropriate changes can be made to the existing ones.
“However, time is not our friend here. The production will have to be put together quickly so we can keep to our schedule and open on time. And we’re going to need new posters and other advertising materials. But all in all, we’re quite excited by the idea. It will, however, require everyone working together, so I hope all of you will accept our decision and really get on board with the project. We had some delays when we lost the previous director, and now it has to be full steam ahead for everybody involved.”
Audrey sank back in her chair, gazing at her hands, fingers intertwined, resting on the edge of the table. She pushed her plate away, and Maxine, seated beside her, stretched her hand along the tablecloth and grasped her sister’s.
“What do you think, Audrey?” Paula asked gently.
Audrey raised head and leveled a steady gaze at Edmund, sitting across the table from her. “I’ve been against this daft idea from the beginning, and I certainly wasn’t expecting to hear this tonight. I thought we were here to see if we could talk some sense into Edmund, to make him see how disastrous this is going to be, and frankly, I’m feeling betrayed. I never would have agreed to perform this play, at this theater, had I known the production was going to be nontraditional.”
“We acknowledge that the situation hasn’t been handled well,” Paula said. “Edmund should have proposed his idea to the board before dropping it on the cast with no warning.”
“Yes,” said Edmund, glancing first at Paula, then facing Audrey’s belligerent stare. “And I certainly should have discussed it with you. I apologize.”
As the uncertain mood lifted, conversation resumed, and the diners returned to their plates. Audrey, however, left hers untouched, and eventually, forks were laid down and a server appeared to clear the table.
“Now we’ve got something typically American for dessert tonight,” announced Paula. “Old-fashioned apple pie!”
Audrey shook her head as the server placed a generous slice of apple pie—its latticed crust golden and flaky, with warm, cinnamon-laced chunky apple filling oozing onto the plate—in front of each diner. It was accompanied by scoops of homemade French vanilla ice cream and slices of locally made, mature cheddar cheese.
When the dessert course was finished, the group moved back to the sitting room, where a coffee service had been set up. Ray passed around cups of coffee, and Charlotte followed with a selection of liqueurs. Audrey allowed herself a small brandy under Maxine’s disapproving eye.
Eventually, the evening wound down, and the guests made their way to the front door. After thanking their hostess, they headed to their vehicles, and the little convoy set off down the driveway.
“Are you and Aaron going to be okay with those costumes?” Ray asked Charlotte as they turned onto the highway in the red glow of the Rolls-Royce’s taillights.
“We’ll just have to be. I’ll meet with Edmund to go over everything, but we can make a few new dresses, rent the men’s Civil War uniforms as Aaron suggested, and perhaps adapt existing costumes for minor characters. I think Aaron’s going to be excited.”
“Audrey didn’t seem thrilled.”
“I’ll talk to her. We can make it work. Possibly even to her advantage.” In the greenish light from the dashboard, she glanced at Ray’s profile. “I wonder, though, if it was really a Civil War theme Edmund was after or if he just wanted to get his own way. If what he really wanted was to win. To make a point with Audrey, for some reason.”
In the back seat, Harvey Jacobs and Nancy remained silent the entire journey. As Ray dropped Nancy off at her home, he mentioned that several lights were on upstairs.
“Oh, my niece is staying with me,�
�� Nancy said. “I’ve reminded her a thousand times about turning off lights in empty rooms, but she isn’t as mindful of that as I am. Of course, she doesn’t have to pay the electricity bill.”
*
Audrey, Maxine, and Edmund Albright climbed out of the Rolls-Royce and stood for an uncertain moment in an awkward cluster watching Barnes drive off. Before anyone could say anything, Ray’s police car arrived, and Charlotte hopped out of the front seat and joined them.
“Ray wants us all to walk home together,” she said. “He especially wants to make sure Audrey and Maxine get home safely.” Her presence released some of the tension between Edmund and the sisters, and together, they walked toward the path that led to the bungalows, where Ray caught up with them. After seeing Charlotte safely inside, he rejoined the other three, and with his flashlight’s bright beam guiding them, they continued on. Edmund was next, and finally, Ray escorted Maxine and Audrey to their bungalow. He held out his hand for their key, unlocked the door, switched on the kitchen light, then checked both bedrooms. When he was satisfied the bungalow was empty, he opened the door and the two women entered. Audrey brushed past him and headed straight for her bedroom.
“Well, good night,” said Ray, handing the door key to Maxine. “Be sure to lock the door behind me. Let’s hope no one is disturbed tonight.”
He let himself into his and Charlotte’s bungalow a few minutes later and, loosening his tie, reached for Rupert’s leash to take him out for his last little walk before bed. They strolled back along the path, almost as far as the director’s bungalow, then returned home. The night was still and peaceful, and Ray hoped it would remain that way so everyone got a good night’s sleep. He suspected the next few days at the theater were going to be busy and filled with more drama than the players might wish.
He let Rupert and himself into the house to find Charlotte changed into a pair of soft cotton pajama bottoms and a pink T-shirt, curled up on the sofa, waiting for them.
“Can I get you anything?” he asked her. “Nightcap?”
“No, I’ve had enough to drink, thanks.” Rupert jumped up on the sofa, and she wrapped her arms around him. “I’m knackered. I’ve had enough for one night. Luckily, Aaron’s done some costume sketches, so at least we have a starting point. Now that we know for sure what direction we’re going in, we’ve got to get our skates on.”
“Skates on?”
“It’s an English expression. Get going. Get on with things.”
“Oh, right.”
Ray checked one last time to make sure the door was locked and turned off the lights.
Chapter 11
“Well, I must say, Charlotte, you’re a bit of a dark horse,” said Audrey the next morning when they passed each other in the hotel parking lot. Charlotte was on her way into the hotel to review Aaron’s sketches, and Audrey, apparently having finally found something palatable for her breakfast in the cafeteria, was just coming out.
“What do you mean?”
“Not telling me you’re involved with the dishy policeman. Although, I’ve seen him around here often enough, I should have realized.”
Charlotte shrugged. “Didn’t I say? Sorry. I guess I don’t really like talking about my personal life.”
Audrey gave a fluttery laugh. “Well, you’re forgiven.”
As she started to walk off, Charlotte placed a gentle hand on her forearm. “Audrey, just a moment. You and I need to have a chat about your costumes, and the sooner the better. The thing is, I’ve given your costume requirements a lot of thought, and I believe we can make this situation work to your advantage. We make sure you look fabulous, and then, if the production is as easy to promote because of the Civil War angle as everyone seems to think it will be, you’ll get a lot more attention. After all, look what playing a Civil War beauty did for Vivian Leigh’s career, and she was English too.”
Audrey’s blue eyes sparkled. “You might be right. I should have been more open-minded and given poor Edmund a chance. I did say some awful things to him. As difficult it would be for me, I wonder if an apology would be a good idea.”
“I think that would be helpful. If both of us show willing, we’ll probably get more done, and everything will be a whole lot easier. We’re really under a lot of time pressure now. Look, Aaron’s done some concept sketches. Why don’t you come to the office with me and take a look at them? And after you’ve reviewed them, we’ll see when Edmund’s available to discuss your costumes.”
“Sounds good.”
Minutes later, Charlotte opened a folder and spread Aaron’s sketches over the worktable. “We can modify anything to suit you,” she explained as Audrey pored over them.
“This neckline could be a little lower,” said Audrey, pointing at one, “and I’m not sure about this skirt. It doesn’t seem full enough. But it’s hard to tell without seeing and feeling the fabric.”
“We haven’t got any swatches yet, but we will,” Charlotte assured her. “And trust me, the end results will be flattering.”
When Audrey had finished examining the sketches, Charlotte replaced them in their folder and snapped it shut.
“What do you think?”
“I like them.”
“Good. Now let’s see if we can find Edmund.” She picked up her desk telephone and dialed the four-digit extension to the director’s office. There was no response. “I’ll try the bungalow.” Again, no response. “He might be in the shower, or he could have gone out, I suppose,” she said as she replaced the receiver. “We’ll try him again later, although I was really hoping we could get on with this.”
“Maybe he slept in after last night. Perhaps we should just go over and knock on his door. See if he’s home.”
“I don’t really like when people just pop in on me, so I don’t like doing that to other people.”
“Well, suit yourself, but I’m going over there. As much as it pains me to do so, I really must apologize for certain things I said to him in the heat of the moment and I’d like to get it over with. It would be easier for me if you’d come with me.”
“Oh, all right,” said Charlotte. She gathered up the folder of sketches and locked the door, and then they retraced their steps across the parking lot.
“Rupert not with you this morning?” Audrey remarked as they passed Charlotte’s bungalow.
“Ray had him out for quite a long walk earlier and tired him out. He seemed content in his basket, so I’m letting him have a nice lie-in this morning.”
“Maybe Edmund’s having a lie-in too.”
“I hope not. That’s why I’m really not comfortable dropping in on people unannounced. Or they may not be properly dressed.”
“Oh, well, we’re here now,” said Audrey when they reached the director’s bungalow. “We might as well give it a try.” She climbed the three steps and knocked on the door. When there was no answer, Charlotte checked her watch.
“It’s not quite ten. It might be a bit too early.” She joined Audrey on the top step and peered through the little window in the door into the kitchen.
She tried the door handle, and when it turned, she pushed the door open and entered.
“Hello?” she called. “Edmund, it’s me, Charlotte Fairfax. Audrey’s with me. Are you here? We need to speak to you.”
There was no response, so she entered the kitchen.
“Maybe this wasn’t such good idea after all,” came a whispery voice from behind her. “It’s rather creepy. I think we should leave.”
And then Charlotte smelled it. A pungent, rusty smell, like a jar of old pennies that had been left out in the rain. The unmistakable smell of blood. Heart pounding, afraid but driven to look, she inched toward the source of the smell and stood in the doorway between the kitchen and sitting room. Pale-beige light filtering through the drawn curtains cast the room into semidarkness, but she could see well enough to make out the body of Edmund Albright sprawled on the sofa, legs outstretched at odd, awkward angles and head lolling to his left. He
wore the same beige trousers and blue shirt he’d worn to the dinner party, but both garments were now heavily stained with dark-brown splotches. His arms flopped by his side, his left hand resting palm up and the fingers of his right hand loosely curled around a handgun.
“Oh, God,” screamed Audrey over Charlotte’s shoulder. “He’s killed himself. Oh, I never should have . . .” She covered her mouth with her hand and gagged. “The smell.” She twisted away and escaped through the kitchen, the screen door banging shut in her wake. Charlotte, too, overcome by waves of nausea, took a few backward steps into the kitchen and then to the fresh air and ordinariness of outside. Relieved to be no longer within sight of Edmund’s pallid, gray face, she groped in her pocket for her phone while Audrey hovered on the path.
“Yes,” she panted in reply to Ray’s question. “Yes! I’m absolutely sure he’s dead. He’s well beyond help, believe me.”
While they waited for Ray to arrive, she returned to the kitchen. She knew not to touch anything but thought she could at least look. The counter seemed to have been wiped down. A few documents lay scattered on the kitchen table beside a teapot. She peered at them and recognized production notes for Much Ado, a production that could now be in doubt. He must have been working on those documents while he had a cup of tea, she thought. But where’s the cup he used? There were no dishes in the sink, so it could have been washed and put away. She glanced back at the teapot, and then, setting the folder of Aaron’s drawings on the table and covering her hands with a tea towel, she opened a drawer and removed a spoon. Placing the edge of the spoon under the lid of the teapot, being careful not to touch the knob on the lid, she lifted it up and peered inside, then slowly let the lid fall back into place. She put the spoon back in the drawer and stepped outside to find Ray talking to Audrey, who was gesturing toward the bungalow, while another police officer prepared to unspool a roll of yellow police tape to cordon off the area.
Much Ado About Murder Page 8