Murder Dancing (9 page)

‘Which a lot of you aren't,' said Libby.

Tom shrugged. ‘It's a popular perception.'

‘Oh, I know. Just as all actresses were considered to be whores in the good old days.' Libby shook her head. ‘And old perceptions can stay alive and dormant for years, more's the pity.'

‘But,' said Jonathan reasonably, ‘no member of the company could have felt like that.'

‘No.' Fran was thoughtful.

‘Fran?' Libby peered across the table at her friend.

‘I was just thinking …' Fran fell silent.

Tom and Jonathan looked at Libby, who sighed.

‘She's rather good at – um – seeing beyond the obvious.' Libby squirmed a bit. Fran hated her so-called psychic gift, even though it had on occasion saved lives. ‘One of the reasons Max … called us in.'

Jonathan narrowed his eyes. ‘You don't mean what I think you mean, do you?'

‘I don't know what you think,' said Libby.

Tom was watching Fran. ‘Does Max believe it?'

‘Sir Andrew does, anyway,' said Libby, wishing Fran would deal with this herself.

Fran looked up. ‘I don't know what it is,' she said. ‘I do know that most people are sceptical, as I am myself. But it's been useful sometimes.'

Once again, Jonathan and Tom exchanged glances.

‘All right,' said Fran. ‘Let's get back to the known facts. You can't think of anyone in the present company who would have perpetrated all the practical jokes, or whatever they were, in London?'

Both men shook their heads.

‘And were they all directed at particularly sensitive people?'

‘No. One was directed at me.' Tom grinned. ‘I am known as the most insensitive of the lot.'

‘So who is it?' said Jonathan. ‘Who would hang rats up and actually hurt poor old Stan?'

‘Oh, it's not the same person,' said Fran. ‘No, that's somebody quite different.'

Chapter Nine

Libby, Tom and Jonathan gaped. Fran looked surprised. It was at this spectacularly inappropriate moment the waiters arrived with the food.

‘Well, it can't be, can it?' said Fran when they had departed.

Libby found her voice. ‘Why can't it?'

Now Fran looked confused. ‘Actually, I don't know.'

Libby sighed. ‘Here we go. What did you see?'

Jonathan looked alarmed. ‘See?'

‘I didn't see anything. I was just sure it wasn't the same person. And there was a different motive.'

‘How can you possibly be sure of that?' Tom was sceptical but interested.

‘I don't know.' Fran shook her head. ‘I've told Libby before, things appear in my head as if I've always known them as facts. I have no idea how it happens. But I'm not unique.'

‘Most people would be turning that into a money-spinner,' said Jonathan, even more sceptical than Tom.

‘Well, she did work for Goodall and Smythe,' said Libby apologetically.

‘The estate agents?' Tom's eyebrows rose. ‘Selling houses?'

‘No, investigating them. They used to send her in to properties to see if anything had happened there that might put prospective purchasers off,' explained Libby. ‘Ben used her occasionally, too.'

‘
Ben
did?' said Jonathan, as though this was a step too far. ‘What for?'

‘Building sites,' said Fran succinctly.

The two men looked at each other and shook their heads.

‘Anyway,' said Fran, ‘what it suggests to me is that someone within the company, or just possibly without, but with a connection to it, wanted the production to fail in London, but here – I don't know, it's more personal.'

‘Couldn't it just be that the attempts didn't work in London so they've upped the ante?' suggested Libby.

Fran shrugged. ‘Maybe. I'm just telling you what I – feel.'

‘OK,' said Libby, ‘but meanwhile, we want to know about the members of the company. Let's ignore the possibility of two different – er – protagonists at the moment. What can you tell us about everyone?'

‘You start,' said Jonathan.

‘OK.' Tom settled himself more comfortably in the chair. ‘Starting with Max, who can't possibly be under suspicion. He would hardly sabotage his own production.'

‘He's one of the best,' agreed Jonathan. ‘Always willing to take a chance on a young dancer, and very innovative. He's got his own school, you know.'

‘Has he?' said Fran. ‘How does he manage to do that as well?'

‘His partner runs it and he has teachers,' said Tom. ‘All trained by him, of course. They hold Saturday classes for kids from thirteen upwards and prepare them for ballet school entry if they want it, or they stay on as apprentices in the company. Sometimes he has to tell people they simply aren't suited, but more often than not the dead wood dies off through natural selection when they're young.'

‘I came up that way myself,' said Jonathan. ‘I did go to ballet school, but I applied to come back to the company when I graduated.'

‘So there are people who could be jealous of him?' said Libby.

Both men nodded. ‘Oh, yes. There's a lot of jealousy in the profession. And Max has helped to make dance popular with the general public who wouldn't have thought to go to see
Swan Lake
or
Coppelia
before,' said Jonathan.

‘But no one in the company?' asked Fran.

‘No,' said Tom. ‘And we already discounted the guys who were turned down at audition. They couldn't have got into the rehearsal rooms.'

‘Go on to the others, then,' said Libby. ‘Damian, for instance.'

‘Damian?' Both men laughed.

‘Never!' said Tom. ‘He's been our rehearsal pianist for years, and he plays when we do small shows at arts festivals and so on, and this is his big chance. He composed
Pendle
out of the improvs we were doing when we workshopped it. And it's bloody good.'

‘It is,' agreed Jonathan. ‘And he's
so
proud of it. He'd never jeopardise his chance of being noticed.'

‘Dancers, then,' said Fran. ‘People who didn't want to come down here.'

‘Dan, I suppose, but that was because of his baby. And he's come down anyway,' said Tom.

‘Phillip?' suggested Libby. ‘He's a wasp, Max says, and I agree with him, although I quite like him.'

‘Oh, he's all right,' said Jonathan. ‘Makes everyone laugh, actually. And he's very dedicated. He teaches for Max, too, when he's not dancing.'

‘So very unlikely to undermine anything,' mused Fran. ‘Who else?'

‘Will and Alan are the only two I know,' said Libby.

Jonathan shook his head and Tom said, ‘No. They're both so delighted to be out of panto this winter they'd never do anything to upset the apple cart.'

‘Who else, then?' said Fran again. ‘There aren't many others, are there?'

‘Four. All younger than we are. One came up through the school, the other three auditioned,' said Tom.

‘What are their names?' asked Libby.

‘Lee is our boy,' said Jonathan. ‘I taught him and so did Phillip. It wouldn't be him.'

‘Paul, Jeremy and Bernie are the other three. We don't know much about them except they're all from Manchester, but I can't see what motives they'd have.' Tom peered gloomily at his plate as if searching there for the answer.

‘Jeremy's a bit of an activist,' said Jonathan. ‘Gets very annoyed about what he sees as injustices. He's probably up in arms about all this. But he shouts about it. He wouldn't be underhand.'

‘What about Sebastian? He doesn't like Stan very much,' said Libby.

‘He's told you, has he?' Jonathan looked interested. ‘He hardly speaks to any of us. Do you think it could be him?'

‘He doesn't like Stan but he seems to be tied to him,' said Libby. ‘He says he buggered up a stage management degree and Stan helped him out. He didn't say how he buggered it up, though.'

‘I didn't know that.' Now Tom, too, was looking interested. ‘So he could have rigged the Kabuki. In fact, he's the perfect person to have done it. Didn't he have to get that rat down this morning? He could have done it then.'

‘I think he'd have been seen,' said Libby doubtfully. ‘Ben and Max were watching him do it. Come to that, so was Stan.'

‘What about Stan?' asked Fran. ‘He's a bit of a wasp, too, isn't he?'

‘He's a pain in the arse,' said Tom firmly. ‘Sorry, girls, but he is. The trouble is, he's a good designer and a very organised company manager. In fact, I don't know where we'd be without him.'

‘Unpaid, probably,' said Jonathan.

‘How does he manage all that?' asked Libby. ‘Does he run the school, too?'

‘No, as I said, the school's run by Max's partner,' said Jonathan. ‘But Stan pays us, organises appearances, accommodation –'

‘Not this time,' put in Tom.

‘And tells us what to do,' continued Jonathan.

‘Isn't that Max's job?' said Libby.

‘Yes, but Stan's always muscling in.'

‘How did he come into the business?' asked Fran. ‘Was he a dancer?'

‘No, he went to drama school to do stage management. Probably the same one young Seb went to,' said Tom. ‘That may be how they met. I know he goes back to give occasional talks.'

‘Is there much difference in stage management for drama and for ballet?' asked Libby. ‘There isn't for musicals.'

‘It's useful to be able to read a score,' said Jonathan. ‘In opera you have to. Especially for lighting.'

‘Oh, yes,' said Fran, nodding. ‘You can't follow a script for cues, can you? But you can get to know the moves, I suppose.'

‘The choreography, darling,' said Jonathan, striking a pose.

‘Oh, sorry.' Fran grinned back.

‘So where did we get to?' said Libby. ‘Everyone, really. The four newbies, Seb, Stan, you lot, Damian and Max himself. It doesn't look like anyone, does it?'

‘But it must be,' said Fran. ‘Unless someone's smuggled him or herself down here in a suitcase and is hiding somewhere.'

‘That's a possibility,' said Libby. ‘After all, we've had people hiding out on the estate in the past.'

‘You have?' Jonathan looked worried, Tom interested.

Libby explained about the Hoppers' Huts, left over from when The Manor was a working hop farm.

‘People get into them, and they're so far from the main house we don't know about it.'

‘Could that be it?' Tom looked anxiously at Libby.

‘I'll check the huts tomorrow,' said Libby, ‘but I doubt if there's anyone there. They've all had new locks since last winter, and there's a security light and camera on the end of the block now.'

‘Is there? I didn't know that.' Fran put aside her knife and fork. ‘So whether you like it or not, the culprit – or the most recent one – must be one of you. There isn't another option.'

Tom and Jonathan looked at each other uncomfortably. ‘What about this first one?' asked Tom. ‘If you say they're different.'

Fran shrugged. ‘I think they are, but I can't be sure of course. There's a much wider field back in London. Far more people can have access to the rehearsal rooms, for instance.'

‘But no one could have got in without us knowing,' objected Tom.

Libby regarded him pityingly. ‘How many people do you know who've been burgled?'

‘Even while they're asleep in the house?' added Fran.

‘But –' began Tom.

‘No, they're right,' said Jonathan. ‘Burglars can get in anywhere they want unless there's a very high-tech security system.'

‘But this wasn't a burglar,' said Tom. ‘This was a malicious – er – a malicious …'

‘Prankster,' Libby finished for him.

‘With the same motive as the one down here?' asked Jonathan. ‘This is all very confusing.'

‘Tell me,' said Fran. ‘Was Stan the only person who would have been harmed by that thing this morning?'

‘Yes, it's his job to operate it,' said Jonathan.

‘So he could have been targeted deliberately?'

‘I don't know,' the dancers said together, looking bewildered.

‘If so,' said Libby slowly, ‘then it's against Stan, not the company. And the incidents in London were fairly random, weren't they?'

‘But all were attacks on the dancers,' said Tom.

‘Maybe the next incident will be against someone else,' said Libby. ‘Maybe whoever it is is working his way through the company.'

‘In that case we're back to motive again,' said Fran. ‘And you're both convinced that nobody has one.'

‘Well, somebody has,' said Tom, ‘but not against the company or the ballet. Not that I can see.'

‘Perhaps someone has a deep-seated hatred of witches,' said Libby.

‘In that case they wouldn't have wanted to be part of the company, would they?' said Fran.

‘Or of someone taking the piss out of witches?' said Tom.

‘We thought of that one earlier, but the same thing applies,' said Libby.

‘Except that they might join the company to sabotage the production,' said Fran.

‘Which is what they, or he, is doing anyway. It isn't personal. It's against the company or the production. And in the end they come to the same thing.' Libby finished her wine. ‘I suggest we go back. I don't think we've arrived at any sort of conclusion really, do you?'

Chapter Ten

‘So we didn't really get anywhere,' Libby told Max the following morning.

‘I think the bloody thing's cursed,' said Max gloomily.

‘Don't let anyone hear you say that,' said Libby. ‘They'll start thinking all sorts of superstitious nonsense.'