Murder Unprompted

the day-to-day running of the show. It would help if the cast got on with him, though, because of his allegiance to the management, they would never quite trust him.

‘Right,’ said Paul. ‘I’m sorry that we haven’t got round to contacting your agents during the last week, but it has been very busy. I’ve had to set up a Production Office, sort out the deals with Denis Thornton and Bobby Anscombe — there’s been a hell of a lot to do.’

‘Still, the important bits are now settled, and the result of it all is. .’ He paused, seeming uncertain, which was out of character for him. ‘Well, let me say that I have some good news and some bad news for you.’

The cast was absolutely silent. This was the first discordant note since the euphoria of the Taunton party.

‘Now, as you know, Bobby Anscombe is coming in with me on this production. The credit’ll read: “Paul Lexington Productions, in association with Bobby Anscombe”. Now this is excellent news for the show. I don’t think I need to give you a list of Bobby’s successes. He’s got the best nose in the business, and the fact that he’s with us means that we’re going to have a hit.’

He paused again. The cast hardly breathed. They hadn’t had the bad news yet.

Paul Lexington chose his words with care. ‘Now Bobby Anscombe’s success in the theatre hasn’t been just coincidence. He knows what makes a show work, and, if all the elements aren’t there, he has never been sentimental about making changes as necessary.’

There was a tiny rustle of unease from the cast. They were beginning to anticipate what was coming.

‘Now I think it’s no secret from any of you that when we opened the play in Taunton, we were hoping to have a star name in the cast.’

They all knew now. Imperceptibly, they all glanced towards Salome Search, whose face shone with tension.

‘We didn’t get a star name, but we got an excellent performance, and the show was still a huge success. And, for myself, I’d like to keep that success intact. I don’t believe in changing a winning team.

‘However. .’

Moisture glowed on Salome Search’s eyes.

‘Bobby Anscombe does not agree with me. Obviously he’s more objective than I am, he doesn’t know you all, he hasn’t worked with you all. But his view is that to bring in a play by an unknown author without any star names is commercial suicide. He wants to make changes in the cast.

‘Now I’ve argued with him about this, but he won’t budge. In fact, what it comes down to is, if we don’t make cast changes, he’ll back out. I’ve checked round other potential investors and there’s nothing doing. Either we do the show with Bobby Anscombe — or the transfer’s off.’

The cast was once again silent.

‘I’m sorry I have to break the news to you like this. I’d rather have spoken quietly to the individuals concerned, but I’m afraid there hasn’t been time. So I’m going to be brutal and just tell you. .’

He paused. Once again, as at the cast party, Charles wondered whether the producer wasn’t rather enjoying the suspense he created. There seemed to be a kind of glee behind the apology, a relish in the role of hatchet- man.

‘Alex,’ Paul Lexington announced finally, ‘I am afraid you’re out. We’ve just done a deal with Micky Banks to play the part of the father.’

Now at last he got reaction, but it was a confused reaction. If he hadn’t mentioned the name of the replacement, the cast would have been shouting at him in fury, in defence of the one of them who had been so savagely axed. But Michael Banks. . Even in their moment of shock, they could recognise what a coup it was to get him. Now if ever a name was box office, it was Micky Banks. And though their hearts went out to Alex, their actor’s fickleness could appreciate the commercial sense of substitution.

Alex Household himself was the slowest to react. The noise around him subsided and they all looked covertly towards him.

‘I see,’ he said, very, very coolly.

‘I’m sorry,’ said the producer. ‘If it could have happened any other way, I’d’ve. . I’m sure we can sort out some sort of deal for you. I mean of course, you haven’t signed any sort of contract. .’

I see, thought Charles. Maybe that was the reason for delaying the announcement of the transfer; maybe that was why no approach had been made to any of their agents. Paul Lexington hadn’t wanted to get any of the original cast signed up until he had contracted his star.

‘But I’m sure, Alex, we can sort out some sort of generous terms for you if you want to understudy — ’

‘Understudy!’ the actor repeated, rising to his feet. ‘Understudy. .’

‘I mean it’s up to you. You just say what you want and I’ll — ’

‘Say what I want, eh?’ Alex’s anger was beginning to build. ‘Say what I want. Shall I tell you what I want? I want the world rid of all the little shits like you who run it. I want you all out — gone — dead — exterminated!’

‘Look, Alex, I’m sorry — ’

‘Sorry, yes, but you’re not as sorry as you will be! You dare to offer me the job of understudy to a part I CREATED! Well, you know what you can do with your job — stuff it! Understudy!’

And, with that sense of occasion that never deserts an actor even in the most real crises of emotion, Alex Household exited from the gym.

There was a murmur of mixed reaction from the cast. They were sorry, yes, angry, yes, but inside each felt relief. In each mind was the thought: It wasn’t me.

‘I’m sorry, this is very painful,’ Paul Lexington continued, with the same hint of relish. ‘It’s not the part of the producer’s job that I enjoy.

‘I mentioned cast changes.’

They were all struck dumb again. In their relief they had forgotten that. The axe was still poised overhead. Eyes again slid round to Salome Search.

‘Charles,’ said Paul Lexington, ‘I’m sorry. .’

CHAPTER FIVE

Charles was no less hurt than Alex Household at losing his part in The Hooded Owl, but his way of showing the hurt was different. He was not quick to anger and confrontation; shocks caught up with him slowly and he usually faced them in solitary depression rather than by throwing a scene. A bottle of Bell’s was the only witness of his lowest moods.

It was just the two of them. The rest of the cast had survived the axe. Charles stayed at the meeting long enough to hear when the rehearsal call was for the Monday; if he accepted Paul’s offer of an understudy job, then he’d have to be there. But he wasn’t sure whether he was going to accept. He said he’d think about it over the weekend, and let Paul know on the Monday.

When he left, the other actors offered him clumsy commiseration, as to someone who had been bereaved. And, as to the bereaved, their words glowed with the grateful confidence that their own worlds were still intact.

It was when he got outside into the sunlight of a newly-trendy Covent Garden that the disappointment hit him. His armour of cynicism was shown up as useless; all he could feel was how desperately he had wanted the job and how bitter he felt at the injustice that had taken it away from him.

Because it was injustice; he knew it wasn’t a matter of talent. He had played that part well, certainly at least as well as the actor taking over from him.

George Birkitt.

He knew George Birkitt, had worked with him on a television sit. com. called The Strutters. He liked George Birkitt and thought he was a good actor. But to lose the part to George Birkitt. . that he found hard to stomach.

And why? Simply because George Birkitt was a better-known name from television. After The Strutters, he had gone on to play a leading part in another sit. com. called Fly- Buttons. That had just started screening as part of the ITV Autumn Season and so suddenly George