The Case of the Petrified Man (13 page)

I felt swimmy-headed & sick.

But I was also happy.

I was about 95 percent certain that I had solved the mystery of who had strangulated Miss Short Sally Sampson.

Ludwig Hamm’s name had just gone to the top of my list of Suspects for three reasons.

People confound me & I do not generally understand why they behave as they do, but those three things seemed to add up to a good motive for murder.

Still, I needed to be sure.

If he had been the “old friend” Sally saw at Topliffe’s Theatre the night she was killed then I reckoned I had solved the crime.

That was why I decided to leave those other suspects for later and go straight to Topliffe’s Theatre to confirm my suspicions.

The double front doors of Topliffe’s were firmly closed but I found a door unlocked on the north side of the building. When I opened the door, I could hear banjo music coming from inside. I found myself in a dark area with more doors and stairs. I followed the sound of the music and opened another door into a big, high-ceilinged room with a stage at my end and a bar down at the other.

I was astonished to find four men disguised as Negroes singing & playing & swaying on stage.

They had darkened their faces with something but they did not look very convincing. The black was too shiny and you could see some of the white skin on their ears and neck. The two men in the middle played banjo & fiddle. The man on the far end was jangling a tambourine and the one near me was clacking what appeared to be pieces of polished rib bones. All four had garish pants & floppy bow ties. They were singing a bouncy song called “I’s Gwine to de Shuckin.”

In the area right in front of the stage on ground level a man played a piano. He had not painted his face with bootblack.

As the men finished and the last notes died away, a female voice spoke behind me, “Hello, P.K. What brings you here?”

I thrust my hand in my pocket & whirled, my seven-shooter cocked & ready. I had recognized the voice of Miss Belle Donne, a Soiled Dove, who had betrayed me a couple of times the week before.

Sure enough, it was Belle.

“Put away your piece, P.K.,” she said, with her throaty laugh. “I do not intend to rob you today. Or tie you up neither. I have become an Actress!”

I put my gun back in my pocket & studied her attire. She was wearing a shiny pale blue dress with a puffy skirt & cinched-in bodice that exposed all her shoulders & most of her bosom.

“Oh, P.K.,” she said. “I am up soon. I am
so
nervous! Please stay and listen to me?”

The piano player had gone up onstage to give the blackface men some instructions. He went back down to ground level and they started singing a sad song called “Lucy Neal” about a slave girl who dies.

“Why are those men in disguise as Negroes?” I asked Belle over the sound of the music.

Belle rolled her eyes. “They ain’t in disguise,” she said. “They are blackface Minstrel Singers. Ain’t you ever seen a blackface Minstrel Singer?” She was talking to me, but watching the men.

“I have seen some Shakespeare,” I said, “but the players did not paint their faces black.”

“Ooh! Shakespeare!” she said. “Ain’t you high-tone!”

The Minstrel Singers finished their sad song and started playing a jolly piece called “Ring, Ring de Banjo.”

It employed all four instruments & had a catchy tune.

I tried not to get entranced by it.

I tapped Belle on the shoulder. “Who is in charge here?” I asked.

She waved me away as if I was a vexatious bug. She was watching the blackface Minstrel Singers.

I looked around to see if there was anyone else who might have seen my prime suspect in the audience the night of Sally’s murder. The theater was a big, high-ceilinged room with five round tables up close to the stage and chairs laid out in rows behind them, stretching back to where I stood.

There was something like balconies either side of the stage. I was used to seeing balconies outside a building, not inside.

At the back of the room was a bar with liquor & food for sale. A big blackboard announced that you could buy delicacies such as Pig’s Trotters, Pickled Tongue, Oysters & Ham Sandwiches. The blackboard suggested washing these treats down with Champagne, Beer or Cider.

There were posters on the walls with information about interesting acts like “Martin the Wizard” & “Madame Samantha the Seeress” & “Miss Lola and Her Acrobatic Dog.”

One of the posters was for the evening of my 12th birthday. The very night Miss Sally Sampson had died!

I went over to look at it. It was pink and half falling off the wall. I did not think anyone would mind me taking it so I pulled it off and folded it up and stuck it in my pocket. I am placing it here in the pages of my account.