Murder in the Second Row (14 page)

Jack made his
selection and Jessica waited until the waitress had left.

‘Do you know
when it happened?’

‘Probably right
at the end of the rehearsal. The others said Tamara was on stage
with them the entire time, prior to the last scene. She wasn’t in
that one. Several saw her go down to the second row to watch. She’d
been seen eating an apple at lunchtime and the pathologist used
that to narrow down the timeframe even more. She died between 4.20
and 5.30pm.

Jessica
paled.

‘So it could
have been while we were in the workshop? There was a killer
murdering someone in our theatre and we didn’t even hear a
whimper?’

‘It’s hardly
surprising,’ he said practically. ‘You said yourself you were in a
virtually soundproof room, and probably using tools that made a bit
of noise. There’s no way you could be expected to hear anything.’
He paused, assessing her state of mind. ‘It’s possible the killer
was still in the building when you left, and took their time moving
the body and tidying up after themselves. As you are aware, the
door unlocks from the inside and he or she would have simply
re-locked it before pulling it shut as they left.’

She shuddered.
‘Is our five minutes up yet? I think I’ve had enough.’

He patted her
hand across the table.

‘Absolutely. I
don’t want to be talking shop on my first free evening all week
either, and it’s definitely not a topic for dinner conversation.’
He leaned back and relaxed a bit. ‘OK, tell me about this town of
yours. I’ve only been here a month and I could really use a native
guide to tell me what’s what.’

The waitress
came back and poured their wine. Jessica took a sip and made an
approving noise.

‘You were
transferred here? Where from?’

Her innocent
question was met with a pause while he selected his words.

‘From a city
station up North where my superior officer felt he’d had enough of
me. The feeling was mutual, so here I am, lower in status but
happier in spirit.’

‘Slumming it in
the provinces, eh? You must have really annoyed him.’

‘Let’s not go
there. We’re not talking about work, remember? I want to hear the
good points about my new town of Whetford.’

‘Ah, the good
points.’ She pondered for a moment. ‘Well, rush hour really is only
an hour morning and evening, not like the big city.’

He laughed
immediately. ‘Yes, I’ve seen your so-called rush hour. Both cars
were finding it very hard going.’

‘All right, all
right, it is only a small town after all. Have you had a look at
the river? There are walkways along it right through town, and
parks, and places to swim. You can rent canoes and paddle around
throwing bread at the ducks.’

‘OK, I like
boats. What else have you got?’

‘Ooh, let’s
see. Whetford Museum, Whetford Art gallery, and a fairly ancient
railway station. How’s that?’

‘Gosh, all that
as well as a historic theatre. What a haven of culture I find
myself in.’

‘Look, if
you’re just going to take the mickey…’

‘Sorry. I’m
just enjoying watching you defend your home town. It makes you go
all pink.’

The pink
deepened to red. ‘Shut up!’

He burst out
laughing and she threw her napkin at him. It missed, and was
scooped up by the waitress returning to take their order.

‘Ah, just give
us a few more minutes, would you?’ Jack asked her, with a charming
smile. ‘I don’t think we’re quite ready yet.’

Jessica studied
her menu closely and took a long drink of water.

‘Have you
decided what you’re having, Jack? The Conchiglie Al Cinghiale looks
rather good.’

His jaw dropped
at her flawless Italian accent.

‘Well if you
recommend it – and if you’ll order it for me! Otherwise I shall be
stuck with a pizza, and probably the Leonardo because I don’t think
I’m up to pronouncing Salsiccia. And would you mind not looking so
damned smug?’

‘Who’s the
uncultured one now, city boy?’

He held up his
hands in surrender. ‘All right, you win that one. Who knew you were
so cosmopolitan? Do you have a particularly good language school
here, or did you get that fluent overseas?’

‘I spent an
exchange year in Italy when I was sixteen. Had a fabulous time,
managed to learn reasonably good Italian, and came home several
sizes larger after all that Italian food.’

‘Speaking of
which, will you please order some soon because I can’t spar wittily
on a stomach this empty.’

Jessica
summoned the waitress and gave their order, asking for breads and
dips to sustain Jack until the meal arrived.

‘Whetford isn’t
a bad little town really. There are plenty of places to go for day
trips out in the country, if you enjoy farmers markets or wineries
or craft galleries. If you like, I’d be happy to do the touristy
thing with you on your next day off.’

‘Well thank
you, Jessica, that’s a very nice offer. It may be a while before
that happens though. We hardworking coppers keep our noses on the
trail pretty hard in the early days while the scent’s still fresh.
Ask me again in a week or so, will you? I’d like that very
much.’

They sampled
the selection of breads, dipping them into gleaming green pools of
olive oil or smothering them with tasty pesto. When they were down
to the last piece, Jack chivalrously offered it to Jessica but
happily devoured it himself when she declined.

‘Ah, that hit
the spot.’ He dusted the last crumbs from his fingers. ‘Now then,
tell me how you came to be a theatre manager. Is it a lifestyle
choice?’

‘Not exactly.
Given the opportunity, I’d prefer to be earning a bit more than I
get from this job! There’s a small wage from the Theatre society,
and the City Council tops it up to something that’s almost enough
to live on, but it’s just as well I have some savings from my last
job to tide me over the odd financial hiccup. I was made redundant
and this was a way to keep earning while I look for work, and also
a way to help the theatre a bit.’ She looked down. ‘Sometimes the
struggle to keep it going gets a bit wearying.’

He nodded
understandingly. ‘I can sympathise with that. Police work can have
the same effect. No matter how often you catch offenders and put
them away, there are always more coming along to commit the same
stupid crimes. After a while you have to question why you’re doing
it.’

‘Is that why
you fell foul of your last boss?’

‘Probably,’ he
acknowledged with a wry smile. ‘He’d reached his level in the
hierarchy without thinking too much, and didn’t like the idea of
someone questioning the way things were done. If I hadn’t
transferred, I would probably have resigned.’

‘So what would
you have done instead?’ she asked curiously. ‘If you were given
free choice of any career you wanted.’

Their meals
arrived, sparing him the need to find an answer immediately. He set
to with gusto.

Jessica tasted
her first mouthful and closed her eyes with pleasure. ‘God, this is
good. To taste this wonderful, it must be desperately bad for me.’
She speared a forkful and offered it to him. ‘Want to try
some?’

He closed his
hand round hers and guided the fork to his mouth. ‘Mmmmm.’ He
swallowed. ‘Oh yes, that’s fantastic. Thank you.’

He returned to
his own plate. ‘Try some of this.’

He put a hand
under a dripping forkful and held it to her lips. She opened them
and took his offering, catching the trickle of sauce with her
finger. As their eyes met, a jolt of electricity seared through
her, and she was sure her face must be radiating enough heat for
him to feel it. Somehow she managed to swallow the mouthful and
busied herself with her napkin, hiding until normality
returned.

‘Gosh, that’s
even better, isn’t it? What a good choice you made there,
Jack.’

‘Yes,’ he said,
giving her a penetrating look. ‘I thought so too.’

‘You haven’t
answered my question yet though. If you weren’t a policeman, what
would you like to be?’

‘To be honest,
I haven’t really considered. Maybe a truck driver, with new scenery
every day and no responsibility except for the truck and its
load.’

‘Ooh yeah,’ she
laughed, with a western drawl. ‘I kin jest see you in a greasy old
denim shirt and baseball cap, jumpin’ down from your big rig at the
gas station. You’d fill ‘er up, mosey on inside, and pick yerself
up a hot new country music CD to listen to while you’re on the
road.’

He shuddered.
‘Ah, if country music is compulsory then I’ll pass on the truck
driving. How about you, Jessica? What would your ideal career
be?’

She shook her
head. ‘I’m still waiting to figure that one out. I’m quite good at
organising things, so maybe a PA to some high-flying businessman.
Or, I really like outdoor activities so perhaps teaching people to
abseil and scuba dive and stuff like that. But to be honest, I
haven’t the faintest idea of how to break into a new career.’

Jack mopped up
the last of his pasta sauce and pushed his plate aside.

‘It looks like
we’d both better stick with what we’re doing for now.’

The waitress
took their empty plates and offered to bring them the dessert menu.
Jessica groaned and shook her head.

‘Not for me,
thanks. I couldn’t fit in another mouthful. How about you, Jack? Do
you have a sweet tooth?’ Then, emboldened by wine, she surprised
herself. ‘You could have a coffee at my place if you like – it’s a
bit quieter.’

His eyes
flickered briefly. ‘Just coffee here, I think.’

That set her
back, and as he sipped at his mochaccino, she found herself asking,
as casually as possible, the question that had been at the back of
her mind all evening.

‘Did you
transfer here by yourself, Jack? Do you have any family in the
area?’

‘Oh, just my
gorgeous wife and two adorable children.’

Jessica was
shaken. Had she misread his warmth entirely? She felt flustered and
wrong-footed. She hoped that her face was expressionless, or at
least showing nothing but polite interest. Several seconds passed
while she tried to process the information.

Finally he
broke into an apologetic grin. ‘I’m sorry, I was just kidding.
Forget I said it. It’s this bloody job – sometimes we have to shut
ourselves off…’ He shook his head in frustration.

‘No, that’s
OK.’ She felt a flush of heat on her face as if a neon sign saying
“dateless and desperate” was right above her head. She picked up
her purse, too embarrassed to meet his eyes because he’d think she
was a complete idiot. ‘I think I’d better head home now. Work
tomorrow, you know how it is.’

‘Jessica, wait,
please.’ Jack leaped to his feet and put a warm hand on her arm to
keep her at the table. ‘Please, sit down. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean
to make you uncomfortable. It was just a clumsy joke. Please. Come
on, I’ll give you the marshmallow from my coffee if you stay.’

She sat down
reluctantly to avoid a scene, but the magic spell had definitely
been broken and they went their separate ways soon afterwards.

Next morning
Jessica swung into action, marshalling a full turn-out of
construction crew to work on the theatre. It would require a major
effort to unscrew the rows of seats from the floor to get them out
of the way of the carpet cleaner, and the more help they had
available, the quicker the job would be done.

Gazza swore as
his drill bit buzzed futilely in a burred screw head.

‘That bloody
girl’s still causing trouble even after she’s dead! Shifting these
feckin’ seats wasn’t on the schedule until we had the money for a
new floor. How are we supposed to fasten them back down with the
boards in this state?’

‘The same way
as we’ve made do the last couple of times,’ Howard reminded him.
‘Fill the holes with glue and matchsticks so the screws will hold a
bit longer. We’ll be fine until there’s a bunch of excited kids at
a panto that rock the whole front row backwards. The domino
effect.’

‘Feckin’ waste
of time,’ muttered Gazza.

Jessica was
inclined to agree, but at least the carpet would look better for
losing its thin topcoat of potato chip grease and ice-cream
smears.

‘Cheer up
guys,’ she said brightly. ‘I’ll bring in a few beers when we’re
done.’

‘Oh, why didn’t
you say so before,’ said Gazza bravely, trying to sound more
cheerful. Jessica gave him a pat on the shoulder and headed out to
the Green Room to see how Stewart and Nathan were getting on with
stacking the heavy rows of seats.

‘Hi Jessica,’
panted Stewart. ‘Could you give us a hand with this for a
second?’

She took some
of the weight in the middle of the row they were struggling with
and helped them get it in position next to the rest. The cast-iron
frames made the seats punishingly hard to manoeuvre.

‘I’ll get a
couple of the others to come back here and help if you like.’

Stewart nodded,
too breathless to speak.

‘Thanks.
They’re really heavy,’ said Nathan.

‘How are you
guys?’ asked Jessica. ‘I mean, since finding the body. It must have
been pretty horrendous for you.’

‘Yeah,’ said
Nathan. ‘Creepiest thing that’s ever happened to me, that’s for
sure. It’s been amazing for my work though. I’m moving into like, a
real dark phase. Heavy, dramatic stuff. Kind of lets it all out,
you know?’ He looked at his friend. ‘Not so easy for Stewie though.
You just think happy thoughts, don’t you mate?’

‘At least I’ve
got things to be happy about,’ said Stewart, looking up at him from
where he’d slumped exhausted on the floor.

Jessica smiled
and left them to it, promising to send help out right away.

Back in the
auditorium, the guys were working slowly towards the back rows of
seats, looking noticeably reluctant to approach the scene where the
body had been found.