Page 27

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…so old , 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 old person. 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.’

‘Thank you, Nicky. Again, I don’t think it relates directly to the case. Now, back to the casting. What happened after the emails?’

‘There was an audition on a Saturday morning,’ said Oscar. ‘We all had to read a few lines. There weren’t a huge number of applicants. Just about everyone who came along got a part, big or small.’

Hayley seemed relieved to have moved on to more meaty topics. ‘Right. Any trouble there? In the casting, I mean.’

‘Not that I saw,’ said Oscar, looking round the group. ‘I guess some people might have been disappointed not to get something. Or not to get a bigger or better role. But it’s am-dram, after all. Not the West End. It’s supposed to be a bit of fun.’

There was a glum silence after Oscar’s words. Whatever fun there was supposed to have been, that had long gone.

‘No conflict, then?’

‘Um, do you have anything to say, Guy?’ Gina said pointedly. ‘A fight, perhaps?’

‘I had a run-in with Roger.’ The words came spilling out. All heads turned towards Guy. He was so quiet and unobtrusive that Julia tended to forget he was there at all. Let alone having run-ins with people. ‘I wanted to give the Postman more personality. Even though he was a minor character, I thought he could have more gravitas. More mystery. I wanted to play him as French.’

Hector gave a dismissive snort.

‘French?’ Hayley’s astonishment moulded the word into three distinct, lilting syllables: Fre-e-ench? ‘Why French?’

A fair question. After all, the play was set in a manor house in 1950s England. A French postman would be unusual, to say the least.

‘I do a good French accent,’ said Guy, modestly, as if that explained it. He went on: ‘’Ello, my nem is Gee. Je suis votre postman…’

‘ Votre facteur ,’ said Dylan helpfully.

‘ Facteur ? Are you sure?’

‘Yes, I’m learning French on Duolingo. Funnily enough the word came up last week.’

‘Well I never,’ said Guy. ‘ Je suis votre facteur… ’

‘Thank you.’ Hayley held up her hand, putting an end to the excruciating performance. ‘I’m assuming Roger refused?’

‘He did. He didn’t like the idea at all. Didn’t see the point. I was quite upset and said some horrible things. Just in the heat of the moment, you know. Said he had no imagination. That he was a petty dictator. Gina must have overheard the argument.’

She nodded. ‘Sorry, I don’t think you killed him or anything, but the detective did say we must mention any conflict.’

Guy nodded his understanding and forgiveness, and looked down at his hands.

‘Oh, I’ve just remembered another thing,’ Nicky cut in. ‘I complained to Roger about the teabags. Does that count?’

‘No,’ Hayley and about half the cast answered in unison .

Things continued to deteriorate after that. Despite Hayley’s efforts to keep things on track, there followed an accounting of small slights, tiny tiffs, random run-ins and misunderstandings. Those weeks felt like ancient history, although they had been only a month or so ago, and the conflicts themselves entirely trivial. Julia couldn’t believe that they had anything to do with the death of the two men.

Hayley called an end to the meeting, with an air of barely concealed irritation. ‘Please be in touch with DC Farmer if you remember anything that might be useful. Useful . Nothing about teabags and French postmen and such.’ She paused and spoke in a serious, measured tone: ‘Now, I don’t want to cause panic, but I must reiterate, the killer is still at large.’

The look on the assembled faces indicated to Julia that there was – if not panic – at least significant unease amongst some of the cast. They forgot about their trifling arguments and confessions, and focused once again on the core of the matter – two men had died, and the police didn’t know how, or why, or at whose hand. The mood was suddenly sombre.

Oscar said: ‘It’s the men who are being targeted, isn’t it? Shouldn’t we have security until the murderer is behind bars? I feel rather nervous.’

‘No, I don’t think that’s necessary at this stage. We are not at all sure what the connection is between the deaths, or if it has anything to do with this production,’ said Hayley.

‘Probably nothing at all. I don’t think you need to be afraid, Oscar,’ said Hector, with a hint of an eye-roll.

‘Not afraid, just alert,’ said Hayley. ‘I’m just asking you all to be alert. If any of you experience anything suspicious or are at all concerned for your safety, you must phone the police immediately. I’m going to give you my personal number to save on your phones. You can of course also phone 999 in case of emergency. I don’t need to tell you, this is for emergencies only.’

The players diligently tapped the digits into their phones and then dispersed, some of them looking around anxiously as they exited the hall.

‘Well, I don’t know about you, but I feel better after coming clean about everything,’ said Nicky, beaming at Tabitha and Julia. She didn’t seem particularly troubled by the ‘killer at large’ speech. In fact, she seemed in excellent spirits. Having owned up to her fifth or sixth troublesome interaction, she looked like someone who’d just come out of the confessional with a clean slate and a pure soul.

Julia, who had nothing to confess, and who thought the whole exercise had been a phenomenal waste of time, returned her beam with a wan smile, and said, ‘Well, I’m glad for you, Nicky.’

‘Bye then, Julia. I’ll be off to do my errands. Before I know it, it’ll be time to fetch Sebastian.’

‘I’d better dash, too. Don’t want to be late for Second Chances.’

‘Oh, thanks for reminding me. I broke my favourite mixing bowl. It was my grandma’s, such a pretty one. You know the ones with those old-fashioned stripes? I’m so upset. I want to come over and see if you have something similar. Maybe someone else’s grandma died and they didn’t want her mixing bowl.’

‘We usually have mixing bowls. I’ll have a look when I get in and let you know.’

‘Thanks, Julia. Or I’ll just pop round later, or tomorrow.’ Nicky bounded off with a spring in her step.

‘I’ll walk with you; we’re going in the same direction,’ said Tabitha. When she and Julia were at a decent distance from the hall, she chuckled. ‘Have to say, that was one of the weirder meetings I’ve been to.’

‘Complete waste of time for Hayley, I should think. Everyone confessing these mild transgressions and throwing themselves at her mercy. ’

‘Oh dear lord, Guy’s story about the French postman…’ Tabitha’s chuckle gathered force.

‘I think you mean le facteur …’

‘ Mais oui! ’

‘Oh, and the teabags!’ Julia, who had been rather irritated by the whole thing, couldn’t help but be drawn into her friend’s good humour.

‘The parking place…’

‘The biscuits…’

‘I had no idea there was so much strife amongst the Players.’

‘I wracked my brains to find something I could confess myself,’ said Julia. ‘But I wasn’t there with the actors enough to get into any beefs.’

‘I know. Luckily, I’d been snappy about letting Gina wear her own dress, so I had something to offer.’

‘I was the only person who had no transgression to speak of. Well, me and Hector.’

‘Which is surprising if you think about it, because Hector is actually very…How to put it…?’ Tabitha was a very kind person, always at pains not to be overly critical and never mean.

Julia helped her out. ‘He’s a bit annoying. So breathtakingly self-involved.’

‘Yes, that, exactly. Ah well, we’re none of us perfect.’

By now they were approaching Second Chances.

‘Well, this is me. Bye, Tabitha. See you soon. Maybe a meal?’

‘Lovely.’

They lingered for a moment at the door. There was a troubled air between them, as if something should be said. Tabitha spoke first: ‘You take care of yourself, Julia. I’m sure we’re not in danger, but, like Hayley said, it pays to be alert.’

‘Yes, I’ll keep my wits about me. You too.’