Page 53 of A Village Theatre Murder
Tabitha
And then:
Julia
Julia looked at her own name and felt that surely she was overreacting. She was completely on the wrong track. Chaplin jumped onto her lap, causing her to levitate an inch or two off the kitchen chair. ‘I’ve let my imagination run away with me. No one from the cast is in danger,’ she said to the cat, stroking his silky back while he settled himself down. He closed his eyes, letting it be known that he was only there for warmth, not conversation. She had none of his relaxed attitude to the matters of the day. The prickle was still there.
Julia’s mind was churning – thinking about all she had learnt, and trying to tie it up into a logical theory about what could have happened. But she just couldn’t make sense of it – and was quite relieved when the beeps of incoming messages on her phone disturbed her thoughts.
The first beep must have been the formation of a new group, and the second was Walter Farmer putting a message on the group that he had just created for the Cotswolds Players, instructing them all to report to the police station the next morning. Walter had rather cleverly made the group broadcast only, so nobody could comment on his request.
But that didn’t stop the speculation starting on the main Cotswolds Players group.
What do you think he wants?asked Nicky.
Maybe we’re going to the festival after all, suggested Hector.
Don’t be utterly ridiculous, said Gina, who didn’t usually get involved in these exchanges.Two men have died, is that not enough for you?
The messages volleyed back and forth, and Julia sighed.There was nothing that any of them could do but wait and see what the police had to say. Maybe they just wanted to ask a few more questions, with everyone there. But what more could the Cotswolds Players add to what they had already told the police?
As it turned out, there was alotstill to say.
27
The South Cotswolds Players arranged the chairs of the police meeting roomin a semicircle as they would for a cast meeting or for a read-through of the script. The half-circle faced a single chair, traditionally occupied by the director, but today by DI Hayley Gibson. She was attired, as always, in her practical uniform – dark trousers, button-up shirt, jacket, flat supportive shoes. Her short hair was a bit spiky, as if she’d been running her hands over it, and as if it might be a day past hair-wash day. Hayley wasn’t one for much make-up, but she seemed to have forgotten even the little slick of mascara and touch of lip balm that she usually wore. She looked pale and harassed.
Julia sneaked a look at her watch. She hoped the meeting would be quick. She would be working at Second Chances that morning to compensate for Wednesday’s absence. Having left Diane and Wilma in the lurch on Wednesday, she’d phoned to apologise profusely (Wilma was a person for whom only ‘profusely’ would do, when an apology was called for). She had sounded a bit scratchy, saying with a sigh, ‘Oh, don’t you worry, it was a busy day but Diane and I just had to manage.’ And now Julia was going to be late again.
Hayley gave a brief recap of what everyone already knew without additional new information. She didn’t mention Bethany. It was clear she was here to garner information, not share it.
‘Given the unlikely coincidence of the two men, both involved with the Players, both dying under unusual circumstances, we are treating the deaths as suspicious. And we are examining all and any links between the two. I’m starting from scratch. Fresh eyes. Fresh ideas.’
The Players looked at Hayley expectantly.
‘I want us to go back to the weeks of rehearsal leading up to Graham Powell’s death,’ she said. ‘I want to hear the whole story again, and specifically where there was conflict. Disagreements. Fights. Misunderstandings. Even if they were minor. This is not to say anyone’s going to be accused of anything. I just want to get a feel for what it was like in those rehearsals. So be honest. Let’s go right back to the beginning and start with casting. How did that work?’
Nicky, unsurprisingly, was the first to put up her hand. ‘So, there was a casting call. You had to email Roger if you wanted to come to casting, and fill in a form with your name, experience, age and all that.’
‘Thanks, Nicky.’
‘Well, if we are speaking about misunderstandings, I have to say I took a year off my age when I filled in the form. I said I was thirty-four. I’ve just turned thirty-five and it just sounded so…soold, you know? Like, middle-aged.’
She looked around for corroboration of this fact. Only Dylan, who was twenty-something, nodded in an understanding sort of way. Julia caught Tabitha’s eye, but maintained a stony expression.
‘I know I shouldn’t have lied – well, not lied. More like a fib. I mean, it was mostly true, just a sort of adjustment of a few weeks one way or another. I didn’t want to be cast as an oldperson. I feel bad now, honestly I do. I should have told you earlier. Come clean. I hope this hasn’t muddied the waters.’
Hayley looked like a woman reconsidering her life choices. ‘Thank you, Nicky. I appreciate your honesty, but I don’t think it has any bearing on the case.’
It was, thought Julia, hard to imagine how Nicky believed her fib about her age could possibly have had any bearing on, well, anything really.
But Nicky looked relieved, and added, ‘Also, one day, I wasn’t very nice to Graham. I teased him about his trousers, the ones he wore in the play. Said he looked like a bible salesman from Tennessee. I don’t know why I said that. I haven’t even been to Tennessee and I don’t know if they have bible salesmen there or what they look like if they do. I feel bad about that too. I hope he wasn’t hurt.’
