Page 61 of A Village Theatre Murder
Julia had all but forgotten Troilus, in her conversation with Hector. But now she turned to look at him.
He stood frozen, staring at them. She might have thought he hadn’t heard anything that they had said, except for a lone tear that made its way down his cheek.
‘Oh, Papa,’ he said. ‘You always trust people far too much.’ He shook his head slowly. ‘Why did you even tell Julia aboutyour missing book? She seems like such a nice lady, and now I’m going to have to sort her out.’
‘Sort her out?’ said Hector. ‘What on earth are you talking about, Troilus?’
But Julia had put together the puzzle much more quickly, and knew exactly what Troilus meant. Her heart was hammering in her ears, knowing what danger she was in. She understood how to deal with troubled young men professionally, and now her life depended on that skill.
‘You were just trying to help your father, weren’t you, Troilus?’ she said, standing up, hoping her voice betrayed none of her fear. She couldn’t have been completely successful, because Jake sat up from where he had been lying next to Troilus, and came over to her. She put a hand on his head, drawing strength from her loyal friend.
‘It’s true. I never meant any of this to happen. Papa just needed help.’
Troilus looked so sad and at sea. Julia knew he had probably had years of feeling lonely and being misunderstood. From his perspective, it was simply another situation where nobody understood what he was trying to do.
‘The best thing to do is to speak to the police. Tell them everything. Explain what happened.’
‘I didn’t mean to kill Mr Grave, you know.’ Troilus said this almost conversationally.
‘What?’ gasped Hector, who seemed to be several steps behind the conversation.
‘I never thought you did,’ Julia said gently.
‘You didn’t?’
‘Of course not.’
Troilus gave her a tiny smile, grateful for that small show of faith. ‘I only went to his house to talk to him. To find out why he never cast Papa in anything. I brought the book so I could show him how hard Papa works, how much he loves the stage. All thenotes he made. My papa is a very great actor, and I just wanted Mr Grave to understand that.’
‘Oh, my darling boy,’ said Hector softly, finally understanding. ‘What have you done?’
‘I spoke to him and tried to explain. But then he said…’ Troilus paused, as if seeking the strength to repeat what he had heard. ‘He said that Papa wasn’t any good. Oh, he tried to pretend he wasn’t saying anything bad, said how valuable Papa was as the prompt. But he said Papa is a terrible actor.’ Troilus let out a sob.
‘That must have been hard to hear, Troilus,’ Julia said. ‘I’m sorry.’
‘It was. It was a lie! Papa is wonderful. He knowsallthe Shakespeare, all of it! Nobody else can say that, can they?’
‘Hector is certainly remarkable,’ said Julia.
‘Anyway, he said…’ Troilus closed his eyes for a moment, and it was clear that he was remembering words almost too horrible to repeat. ‘He said Papa was the worst actor he has ever seen.’
Julia nodded and made soothing affirmative noises.
‘Papa was on television, you know. He was a great star. Did you know that, that my papa was on the telly?’
‘Yes, of course. It has been mentioned.’ Mostly by Hector himself, but Julia didn’t say that. Nor did she mention that his character had been in a coma for most of the show’s run and he had done next to no acting. Troilus looked pleased to hear that Hector’s fame was well-known.
Hector had stood up and was looking at Troilus, tears streaming down his face. ‘Oh, Troilus, you didn’t…’
Julia thought her heart might break for Hector. The terrible and unique pain of realising that your child has done something bad and irreversible, and that they have done it for you. She could hardly imagine what he must be feeling.
‘I knew if he could hear Papa do Hamlet he’d change hismind. I showed him all Papa’s notes in the book. But he cut me off, really quite abruptly. Rudely. I just got so mad. I saw red. I threw the book at him.’
Troilus stopped talking, breathing heavily in rough, rasping gulps. Julia waited, holding her tongue. His breath evened out and his shoulders softened. He spoke quietly. ‘I threw the book at him. He wanted me to leave, he was walking to the door, so he was in front of me. And I threw it. I can’t throw well. I don’t dosports. I couldn’t hit him if I tried. And I didn’t try, just threw it. I couldn’t believe it when it hit him on the head just as he turned to look back at me. I can still see his face. The surprise, and then he just looked blank. His knees buckled and he went down slowly. And then thecrack. His head hit the table. And that was that. He was dead.’ Troilus turned to Hector. ‘I’m sorry, Papa. I know you liked him.’
‘You didn’t mean to kill him.’ Julia spoke softly and calmly.
‘No. You don’t expect to kill someone with abook!’
