An Expert in Murder

‘In self-imposed exile in my dressing room. She said she couldn’t trust herself to be civil so she’d wait there until I was free to go.’

Penrose took Lydia gently through the period between the end of the play and the discovery of Aubrey’s body, but learned nothing that Fallowfield had not already discovered in his earlier brief conversation with the actress. ‘I suppose I should have come to fetch you when I realised that the door was locked,’ she said.

‘Something was obviously not right, but you do things instinctively, don’t you? I just opened it without even thinking what might be on the other side.’

‘You’re absolutely sure that the door was locked, aren’t you, and not just stuck or difficult to open?’

‘I’m positive. I tried the handle once, turned the key and tried again. The door opened, and I saw him right away. I know it’s odd, but that’s how it was.’

‘Did you go into the room?’

‘No more than a couple of steps. It was obvious that I was too late to help him. A part of me couldn’t believe what I was seeing, but most of all I just wanted to get away.’

‘You told Sergeant Fallowfield about some unpleasantness amongst the cast after the show. What had Aubrey done to upset everyone so much?’

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‘Well, Esme McCracken has always hated him just for being successful, but it’s got worse since he refused to accept her play for production. I don’t know about Lewis Fleming; he and Johnny have always hated each other, and that’s about rivalry and social background as much as anything, but I’ve never known Lewis to show Bernie anything other than respect until today. As for Johnny, I think he was simply starting to outgrow what Bernie could offer him. He’s always been restless, but he’s sick to the back teeth of this play and Bernie is – was – determined to hold him to his contract. And there’s the Swinburne issue, of course. Johnny was set on having him – in all senses of the word, probably – for Bothwell in Queen of Scots, but Bernie preferred Fleming. At least, I thought he did. Perhaps he’d changed his mind. That might explain Fleming’s behaviour, but not Johnny’s.’

‘Aubrey hadn’t changed his mind about Bothwell,’ Josephine said. ‘Apparently he was still very keen this afternoon on hiring Fleming.’

Lydia gave an involuntary shudder. ‘You know, I’ve just remembered what Johnny said when he made the toast tonight: “To memorable exits.” He couldn’t have known, could he? Surely he wouldn’t . . .’ she tailed off, unable to bring herself to say the words.

‘I thought you said you wouldn’t keep her long, Inspector?’

Marta stood in the doorway, calmer now, but no less protective.

Penrose looked up at her and said, politely but firmly, ‘There are a couple more questions. Please take a seat, though, I’ll be as brief as I can.’ Marta moved across to be near Lydia, but remained standing. ‘Now, the tray of drinks for this ritual,’ Penrose continued, ‘who got that ready today?’

‘Hedley made sure everything was there before the matinee. At least, that’s what usually happens. McCracken was on duty tonight, so she’ll have put the drinks in place.’

‘And do those two get on? White and Miss McCracken, I mean.’

‘I don’t think you could honestly say that McCracken gets on with anyone – except Johnny, perhaps. He actually thinks she can write. But Hedley isn’t the confrontational type and he has to work with the woman, so he puts up with all her nonsense and just 160

gets on with it. How is Hedley, by the way? I didn’t realise until Josephine told me tonight that it was his girlfriend who was killed yesterday. I can’t believe I met her at the station and didn’t make the connection. He’ll be devastated. He was so in love with her, you know, it was really very sweet. And of course Bernie had become like a father to him over the last few months. It’ll feel like his whole world has collapsed when he finds out what’s happened now.’

‘Actually, we’re having a bit of trouble getting hold of Mr White,’ Penrose said, with an edge in his voice which was lost on neither Lydia nor Marta. ‘I don’t suppose you have any idea where he might be, do you?’

‘I haven’t seen him since the matinee,’ Lydia said, and Penrose was interested to note that her tone had lost some of its warmth.

‘If I had, I’d have no qualms about telling you. He wouldn’t do anything wrong, Archie. He’s just a boy.’

Fallowfield spoke up for the first time. ‘He had done something wrong, though, hadn’t he, Miss? The stage doorman says he was supposed to report to Mr Aubrey after the matinee this afternoon for some sort of disciplinary, but he never showed up. Do you know what that was about?’

‘I’ve really no idea, Sergeant, but I can’t imagine it was a matter for the police.’ She accepted the cigarette that Marta held out to her, and paused while it was lit. ‘He shares digs with Rafe Swinburne over the river. If he’s not there, I’ve no idea where you’ll find him, but I just hope he’s all right.’

‘Rafe Swinburne – you mentioned him earlier,’ Penrose said.

‘Why is Terry so keen on him?’

‘Well, partly out of sheer stubbornness. He hates Fleming so much that anyone who has some talent and fits the same sort of roles would be preferable. And Swinburne is talented – he’s made quite a success of things in Sheppey at Wyndham’s, helped along no doubt by his looks. Johnny’s a fool for a pretty face.’

At the mention of Wyndham’s Theatre, Penrose looked across at Fallowfield. ‘And does Rafe Swinburne want to take this role as much as John Terry wants to give it to him?’

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‘Oh, I don’t think there’s any doubt about that. He’s very ambitious. I’ve seen him work the room a couple of times now, and he certainly knows how to pull out all the stops.’

Marta made no attempt to disguise the contempt in her voice.

‘Has the world really come to that, Inspector? Are we all so shal-low now that we’ll kill for a part in a play? Whatever happened to the good old-fashioned motives that people used to murder for? At least they were a little more convincing.’