Murder in the Second Row (11 page)

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Authors: Bev Robitai

Tags: #crime, #drama, #murder, #mystery, #acting, #theatre, #stage, #stage crew, #rehearsal

BOOK: Murder in the Second Row
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‘They don’t
give much away, do they?’ said Gazza.

Jessica ground
her teeth. ‘Argh! This is so frustrating! If something major has
happened in there I need to know about it. Suppose we can’t use the
theatre and I have to organise an alternative venue for
rehearsals?’ Her eyes widened as the next thought struck her.
‘Suppose we have to cancel the show for some reason?’

‘Take it easy
there, Jess. Don’t go looking for a worst-case scenario just yet.
Let’s deal with one thing at a time, eh? How about texting people
to tell them that tonight’s rehearsal is cancelled, for
starters?’

‘Of course!
Thanks, Gaz. Just as well one of us can still think straight. I’m
on it like a cop on a doughnut,’ and she dug her cell phone from a
pocket with shaking hands.

With ten
minutes left before rehearsal was due to begin, she might still
catch a few people before they reached the theatre. She wrote a
quick text message and sent it to all the cast and crew that were
on her phone list.

Adam’s car
pulled up across the road and she saw him look at his phone and
frown. He got out of the car quickly and came over.

‘What’s
happened, Jessica? Flood? Fire?’ He saw the ambulance. ‘Injury?’ He
saw the police cars. ‘Break-in?’

‘For all we
know, Adam, all of the above. The police have given orders to keep
everyone out and they’re calling it a crime scene. That’s as much
as we know.’

He looked at
her searchingly, blue eyes seeing deeper than she might have
liked.

‘You’re really
upset, aren’t you?’ he asked, in a voice so gentle that she just
wanted to bawl her eyes out.

She toughed it
out instead. ‘Oh, I was for a bit, but I’m fine now. I just wish we
could find out what happened in there, that’s all.’

Adam patted her
on the shoulder. ‘Let me see what I can do.’

He walked
purposefully towards the door and went inside, leaving Jessica
saying, ‘But you can’t do that, Adam’ in his wake.

In a few
minutes he reappeared in the corridor, deep in conversation with
Jack Matherson. There were serious faces, nods, and finally
handshakes, before Adam re-joined them outside. For once he looked
older than his 56 years.

‘Sorry Jessica,
but it’s not good news, I’m afraid. It seems that Stewart and
Nathan found a body at the back of the auditorium. The police
suspect it’s a homicide, so they’ll be closing off access to the
whole theatre while they investigate. The detective told me that
it’ll be off-limits all of tonight, and next day at least, to give
the criminal pathologist time to get here and complete work on the
scene.’

‘Who?’ She
managed a strangled croak. ‘Whose body?’

He shook his
head. ‘They wouldn’t say any more than that. Not even if it was a
man or a woman.’

‘Shitfuckbuggerypoxdamn’ was Gazza’s eloquent contribution.

‘Yes indeed,’
agreed Adam. ‘Now, in a “show must go on” spirit, shall we work out
a contingency plan for dealing with the situation?’

‘We could ask
the Musical Society if we can use their clubrooms as a rehearsal
space,’ said Jessica, her mind already racing ahead. ‘I think it
should be available for a week or so at least before they start
working on Oklahoma.’ She grabbed Adam’s arm, her eyes huge at the
thought that had just struck her.

‘Suppose it’s
one of the cast. What do we do then?’

He shrugged.
‘To be brutally practical, there’s nobody who is irreplaceable.
Except perhaps for Simone. That would be a hard part to re-cast at
this stage of the game.’

Jessica pulled
out her phone and stared at it as if it might bite her. ‘I guess I
could call her.’

Adam gently put
his hand over hers. ‘I’ll do it.’

He thumbed the
keypad and held his phone to his ear. They waited. It rang and
rang.

It’s too long,
it’s too long, thought Jessica. She should have answered by
now.

‘Hi Simone,
Adam here.’

She gasped a
relieved sigh. One problem was averted, at least. But then he
continued.

‘Can you give
me a call when you get this message please? It’s quite urgent.
Thank you.’

‘Shitfuckbuggerypoxdamn?’ she asked.

‘I’m afraid so.
All I got was her voicemail.’ He looked at his watch. ‘Well, there
doesn’t seem to be anything much more I can do here. I might as
well head home. I’ll let you know if I hear from Simone.’

‘If you hear
what?’ asked a booming voice. Simone sailed up behind him looking
very put out. ‘I hear that tonight’s rehearsal has been cancelled,
at extremely short notice I might add. It would be preferable to
have a little more warning if such an event were to happen again.
Some of us do have lives outside the theatre, you know.’

‘Simone! Boy,
are we glad to see you! You’re all right!’

Simone stared
at Jessica as if she’d been speaking in tongues. ‘Yes of course I’m
all right. Why shouldn’t I be?’

Jessica
suddenly needed a break. She gestured to Adam to explain and went
to sit down on the pavement, leaning against the front of the
theatre with her knees pulled up to her chin. Her mind went
mercifully blank for a while as she gazed unseeing at the street in
front of her.

The next thing
she knew, Jack Matherson was standing in front of her, offering a
hand to pull her up. His grasp was firm and warm, and she was
almost reluctant to let go once she was up on her feet. ‘You’re
Jessica and you manage the theatre,’ he began.

‘Ah, thanks for
clearing that up.’ She stopped, surprised at herself. Where had
that come from? ‘I mean, yes. Sorry.’

He tilted his
head slightly. ‘Am I going to have to caution you, Jessica?’

‘No, Detective
Senior Sergeant Matherson. I’ll co-operate fully.’

He grinned.
‘That’s what we like to hear. It saves so much wear and tear on the
rubber hoses. Now, while you’re feeling meek and compliant, can you
show me somewhere in the theatre where I can set up an interview
room, please? Preferably well away from the auditorium.’

‘As long as I
get first go – and you tell me something about what’s happened.
Deal?’

‘Fair enough.
I’ve sent a chap to guard the door so you can stop being watchdog
out here.’ He looked at her companions. ‘I’ve spoken to Adam Bryant
already, but has that guy with him been inside at all?’

‘Gazza? No, he
hasn’t. He turned up just after your first two officers got
here.’

‘Fine. The
interviewing officer will talk to him soon. Come on.’

Jessica
followed Jack inside.

The fire doors
had been firmly closed so there was no chance to sneak a look into
the auditorium as they passed along the corridor. She took Jack out
the back and up into the Rose Room.

‘Is this OK,
Detective Senior Sergeant? There’s a table and plenty of chairs.
Oh, and a power socket just behind the bookcase there, to plug in
your interrogation lamp.’

He grinned.
‘Ah, you haven’t heard about the new user-friendly police force,
have you? We don’t call them interrogation lamps any more. Now
they’re “investigative” lamps, along with “investigative”
thumbscrews and “investigative” bamboo slivers.’

‘Ha, try what
you like, you’ll get nothing from me, copper.’

‘Interesting.
Is this a brave front over your worry, or an attempt to show how
completely unconcerned and therefore not guilty you are?’

The answer that
sprang into her mind was that now he was here, the worry didn’t
seem so bad, but that sounded far too stupid. ‘It’s a brave front,
sir. Now can you please tell me what’s happened in there?’

Jack pulled a
couple of chairs round to the same side of the table and offered
her one. He looked into her eyes as he sat down.

‘It appears
that the two lads out there found a woman’s body lying on the floor
in the back row of the stalls. Stewart has given us a preliminary
identification and we’ll be sending an officer to pick up her next
of kin for a formal ID when we’ve established who that is.’

Jessica was on
the edge of her seat willing him to get to the point.

‘And? Who is
the woman?’

‘According to
Stewart, the deceased is Tamara Fitzpatrick.’

‘Good God.
Wow.’

Jessica was
stunned. She held up a hand to stop him saying any more until she’d
had time to think. Her mind filled with a whirling mass of
thoughts, turning over all the possible ramifications of Tamara’s
death. How did it happen? Accident, suicide, murder? Who did it?
When? Why? Could she be replaced? How would this affect the show?
The theatre?

‘Jessica?’ He
waved a hand in front of her eyes. ‘Come back to me. This is where
I get to ask you some questions, OK?’

‘What? Oh. Yes,
of course. Sorry, go ahead.’ She shook her head to clear it. ‘I’ve
never been involved with anything like this – it’s a bit
mind-boggling.’

He smiled
faintly. ‘You get used to it, I’m afraid to say. Anyway, Jessica,
can you give me any details about Tamara’s family? We’ll need to
notify her next of kin as soon as possible. Do you have her home
address?’

‘As far as I
know, she lives away from her family. They didn’t get on very well.
But I suppose they’d still be her next of kin though, wouldn’t
they? Oh, dear, I’m not making much sense, am I? Of course your
parents don’t stop being your parents just because you don’t live
in the same house.’

‘We’ll assume
that for the moment. Do you have any contact details for them?’

She hesitated.
‘Let me just confirm something I was told. May I make a phone
call?’

‘You’re
entitled to one, remember.’

She smiled
briefly at his joke, and called Clara-Jane who asserted that she
was absolutely positive that Bruce Fitzpatrick was truly Tamara’s
father. Jessica passed Bruce’s details to Jack who called in one of
the constables to handle the visit. Once the constable had been
despatched, Jack turned back to Jessica.

‘Now that’s out
of the way, can you tell me when you last saw Tamara?’

‘Saturday
afternoon at rehearsal. As far as I know she was there throughout
and I assume she left with the others. I was down in the workshop
with the construction guys and we closed up after everyone else had
gone.’

‘What time was
that?’

‘Um, about five
o’clock. Rehearsal was due to end at 4.30. We worked on in the
workshop to finish the tent.’

‘Could you see
or hear anything from where you were?’

‘No, there’s a
soundproof door and blackout between the workshop and the stage.
When it’s closed you can just hear really loud bangs or yells but
nothing much else.’ She looked worriedly at him. ‘When did it
happen? I mean, I know the medical examiner has to complete his
post-mortem to give you an accurate time, but could you tell
anything roughly from the body?’

He smiled.
‘You’ve been watching a few crime shows, have you? Which ones?
“C.S.I.”? “N.C.I.S.”? “Law & Order”?’

‘Yes, all
those, and “Inspector Morse” and “Midsomer Murders”.’

‘Ah yes, the
delightful hamlet of Midsomer. You’d think people would be falling
over themselves to move out of the village, wouldn’t you, with a
death rate like that?’

She burst out
laughing. ‘I’ve thought the same thing! I do like John Nettles as
Inspector Barnaby though. He’s matured very nicely since he played
Bergerac.’

Jack ran a hand
over his mostly dark brown but slightly greying hair. ‘To return to
the matter in hand, what did you do after you left the theatre on
Saturday?’

She looked up,
screwing her eyes closed in an effort to remember.

‘I just went
home, actually. Had a quiet night watching TV and sending a few
emails.’

‘Was there
anybody else there with you? Husband? Flatmate? Boyfriend?’

She shook her
head. ‘Just the cat. He’ll vouch for me.’

His eyebrows
rose. ‘Home alone on a Saturday night? Is that usual for you?’

She winced.
‘Sadly, yes. Even more sadly, if I’m not home by myself, then I’m
here working on a show. At least here I have company.’

His look became
more business-like. ‘So, in effect, you have no alibi at all for
that night? Is that correct?’

Her jaw
dropped. ‘What! You can’t be serious! Does this mean she was
murdered?’

He frowned
slightly, and his brown eyes darkened. ‘I shouldn’t say until the
coroner has seen the body, but it certainly looks that way. That’s
why it’s a little unfortunate that you have nobody to corroborate
where you spent that evening.’

‘Oh, look here,
I didn’t kill Tamara. Why would I kill a member of the cast in a
show that’s really important to save this theatre, right on the
premises where it would cause maximum disruption?’ She gesticulated
wildly. ‘It’s ridiculous!’

Jack regarded
her solemnly. ‘Based solely on my initial assessment of your
character, Jessica, I think we can very probably rule you out as a
likely suspect. But we will check your computer for the times of
your emails, just to be on the safe side.’

‘Hey!’ She
looked at him cautiously. ‘You’re not trying to shock me into a
confession, are you? I don’t know if I can trust you now.’

He cleared his
throat and kept a serious face. ‘So, can you tell me who might have
come into the theatre between the time you left on Saturday and
when Stewart and Nathan came in today?’

She closed her
eyes for a moment, thinking. ‘Nobody was scheduled to be here, but
it’s always possible that one of the crew or committee members
could have come in to do some work on something. All the committee
members have door keys, and so do each of the heads of department
for the show.’

‘But you don’t
know for sure if anybody came in?’

‘Yes!’ Her hand
flew to her mouth. ‘I did! I was in here by myself. It rained hard
on Sunday night so I came in on Monday morning and cleaned up the
water that had leaked onto the stage. Oh my God, was she…?’

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