Murder Dancing (19 page)

‘That's true,' said Libby thoughtfully. ‘Like a small boy lashing out, sort of thing.'

‘Exactly,' said Fran. ‘Not that the idea would gain any weight with Ian.'

‘It sounds exactly like Paul, though,' said Libby.

‘The folklore enthusiast? How did he seem this morning?'

‘Much the same as the others. It was he who pointed out that none of them could have hit Max as they were all together in the Manor.'

‘Not all,' said Fran.

‘Eh?'

‘Surely Sebastian and Damian were still at the pub?'

‘Oh, golly! So they were! They both even told us about seeing Max as they were having breakfast. Ian had to collect them to bring them up to the Manor.'

‘So there you are. Two people who weren't in the Manor.'

‘Yes, but they were together having breakfast at the pub. And there's still the problem of how whoever it was got in. We've gone over the key problem and no one could have got in unless they'd pinched Max's keys and had copies made.'

‘Or Ben's, or Peter's.'

‘They couldn't have got hold of those. Anyway, my soup's ready, so I'm going now. As soon as I get any more news I'll let you know.'

Sunday afternoon passed pleasantly and at a quarter to six they walked back to the Manor anticipating Hetty's traditional Sunday roast.

‘Lamb!' said Libby coming through the door.

‘With garlic and rosemary,' said Peter, from his seat at the kitchen table.

‘Fetch the wine, Ben,' said Hetty. ‘Sit down, gal. Nothing to do.'

‘Have you heard anything from the boys, Het?' Libby asked.

Hetty shook her head. ‘They all trooped off to the pub when the coppers went. I heard some of 'em come back during the afternoon.'

Ben reappeared with two dusty bottles.

‘A crowd of them went past the caff,' said Harry, ‘and a couple of them looked in to see if I had any room, but I didn't. I hope they all got served at the pub.'

‘So we don't know if the hospital discharged Max,' said Ben.

‘And Ian hasn't told us a thing,' said Libby.

Everyone laughed.

After a convivial dinner, Libby looked into the large sitting-room and found a few of the dancers there watching television.

‘No news?' she asked. They all shook their heads, and Libby retreated.

‘We could call in at the pub on the way home,' said Libby, as she and Ben loaded the dishwasher after Hetty had retired to her own little sitting-room.

‘We all could,' said Harry from the sink, where Hetty had generously allowed him to scrub some of her pots, a job she normally preferred to do herself.

‘Get a move on, then,' said Peter, ‘or they'll have all gone home to bed.'

After excusing themselves to Hetty, they made their way down to the drive to the pub, where, along with Damian and Sebastian, Owen was sitting with Jonathan, Tom and Phillip.

‘What happened?' Libby asked Owen. ‘Did they let him out?'

Owen pushed back his chair and stood up. ‘Oh, yes, I should have told you. He's upstairs in bed, with strict instructions to stay there until the doctor sees him in the morning. He wanted to thank you.'

‘What for?' said Ben.

‘Finding him, I think,' said Owen. ‘Let me get you a drink.'

‘Ours are on the way,' said Ben, nodding towards the bar, where Harry and Peter stood in conversation with the barmaid.

‘So what did DCI Connell want to know?' Libby asked. ‘And what could Max tell him?'

‘Nothing.' Owen shrugged. ‘He really doesn't know why he was there and doesn't remember anything about being attacked.'

‘Did he have anything with him?' asked Ben. ‘That might give us a clue.'

‘Again, nothing. Normal wallet, car keys and hotel key. Oh, and theatre keys.'

‘Oh, dear.' Libby shook her head. ‘And I suppose we don't know if the police found anything at the theatre.'

‘I only spoke to the inspector before I saw Max,' said Owen. ‘He seemed rather irritated, I thought. Perfectly polite, of course.'

‘Yes, he's got a lot to be irritated about,' said Libby. ‘We'll let you get on with your drink. Maybe see you tomorrow.'

She and Ben joined Peter and Harry at their normal table by the fireplace in the other bar.

‘Nothing,' she told the other two. ‘A complete mystery. Max has no memory of the event.'

‘Did I, when I got hit on the head?' asked Harry.

‘Yes, I think so,' said Ben, ‘and I know I did when I was.'

‘So did I, when I was,' said Libby. ‘Although mine wasn't very hard, was it. Wow. Think of that. All three of us having been hit on the head.'

‘In the course of
your
enquiries,' said Ben, pointedly.

‘Oh, well,' said Libby comfortably. ‘Perhaps he'll have remembered by the morning. And who knows what might happen then?'

Chapter Twenty

When a uniformed officer turned up on the doorstep of number seventeen Allhallow's Lane on Monday morning, it was to inform Libby that she could open up the theatre.

‘Really made my heart sink,' she told Ben. ‘I wondered what on earth had happened now.'

‘Good news, though,' said Ben. ‘We'd better tell Max and see what he wants to do.'

‘If Owen lets us get near him.' Libby stirred her tea. ‘Should we call in or just phone the pub?'

‘Phone the pub,' said Ben. ‘I'll do it.'

Owen, who said Max seemed a lot better this morning, said he would ring them back when they'd talked it over. When he did, it was to say that Max would like the dancers to rehearse on-stage and he, Owen, would run the rehearsal.

‘I know more or less everything about the piece,' he said, ‘and there isn't anyone else, is there? With Stan gone.'

‘I suppose he's right, really,' said Libby, as she and Ben walked up the drive to the theatre. ‘Sebastian couldn't do it, he hasn't a background in dance and they wouldn't take any notice of him.'

‘Damian probably could,' said Ben. ‘He knows the music, after all.'

‘You get the feeling that the dancers … well, I don't know – but they almost seem to hold him in contempt.'

‘Do they?' Ben looked surprised.

‘Just a feeling I got.' Libby stopped in front of the Manor. ‘I'll go and tell the boys the good news, if they haven't already heard, while you open the theatre.'

The dancers had already heard. Owen had called many of them and asked them to pass the news on to the others, so Libby found them all ready for action in the large sitting-room, with their sports bags and bottles of water.

‘Good to be back to normal,' said Tom, grinning at her.

‘Hardly that,' said Libby. ‘Are you all happy to be working with Owen?'

‘Course!' Tom looked surprised. ‘He runs the school. Max and he set up the business together.'

‘And Sebastian will be all right with the backstage stuff, will he?'

‘There's not much to do,' said Tom. ‘Except that bloody curtain.'

‘Yes. Will you continue to use that?'

‘I don't know. Nobody's keen.' Tom shouldered his bag and saluted with his water bottle. ‘See you later.'

After Libby had been into the kitchen to inform Hetty, unnecessarily, of the state of play, she called Harry, who agreed with much sighing and posturing to resume provision of lunches despite Monday being his day off. Then she went across to the theatre to inform the company that they wouldn't starve today.

‘Very difficult,' murmured Owen, after she'd delivered her announcement. They were watching the dancers warming up, and Libby was quite frankly astounded at the positions achieved.

‘It's like watching human snakes,' she said.

Owen smiled. ‘I suppose it is, a bit. But what I was going to tell you was – they don't want to use the curtain.'

‘Tom mentioned it to me back at the Manor,' said Libby, ‘and I should think Sebastian least of all. Who can blame them?'

‘What do you think we should do?' Owen turned a worried face towards her.

‘Me? Good Lord, I've no idea. Why don't you rehearse without it today and then talk to Max later? I assume you're going to do a straight run, or whatever you call it in dance.'

Owen smiled again. ‘Yes, we are, to get it back into their heads and for me to see it.' He stepped forward and clapped his hands, bringing the movement on-stage to a halt. ‘OK, beginners. Straight through from the top.' He turned to look up at the FX box. ‘You ready, Damian?'

There was a moment of silence, then Damian's head appeared in the window.

‘Er – I don't quite know what's wrong, but the equipment seems to be stuck.'

Everyone stood perfectly still until Ben appeared at the side of the stage.

‘Don't worry,' he called, calmness itself in jeans and a sweatshirt. ‘I'll come up.'

Now a buzz of conversation broke out on the stage and Owen turned to Libby.

‘That was where Max was found, wasn't it?'

‘Yes,' said Libby brightly. ‘I expect we'll find that the SOCOs messed up the settings or something.'

‘SOCOs?'

‘Scenes of Crime Officers. The people you see in the white spacesuits.'

‘Oh.' Owen looked up to the box, where the top of Ben's head could now be seen. ‘What do we do if it won't work?'

‘I don't know,' said Libby. ‘We can't borrow sound equipment from anywhere else – it isn't portable.'

Peter appeared at her side. ‘We can, you know. It won't be as good, but if someone has a good-quality player, or a computer that still takes CDs, we can plug that in.'

‘I have,' said Libby. ‘But wouldn't it be better to upload it and play it direct from the computer? Or the tablet. There's a tablet up there, isn't there?'

‘Yes,' said Peter. ‘I shall go up and join the rescue party.'

‘Thanks,' said Owen and turned back to the stage. ‘Take ten, but don't go far.'

Ben disappeared from the box and Libby went into the foyer to catch him as he came down.

‘I've got the CD,' he said. ‘I'm just going to upload it and send it to the tablet as an MP3. That will go through the speakers.'

‘I thought that all out by myself!' said Libby. ‘I am so impressed. What had happened?'

‘I'll tell you later. Got to get this done.' And Ben vanished out of the main doors.

Peter peered down from the top of the spiral staircase. ‘Looks like another attempt at sabotage.'

‘Oh, no! How did the police miss it?' Libby sat down at one of the little tables with a thump.

‘I doubt they were looking for damage to electrical equipment, and it didn't show.'

‘Max must have disturbed them.'

‘Them?'

‘Whoever it is,' said Libby. ‘He, she or it. I wonder why he doesn't remember?'

Owen came out of the auditorium doors. ‘I've just called Max to tell him what's happened. I asked him if he thought anyone was in the box when he arrived, and he said no. He can remember that much – going up the stairs and into the empty box.'

‘They must have hidden when they heard him coming,' said Libby.

‘We still don't know how they got in, though,' said Peter, slowly descending the staircase.

Damian appeared next, looking pale and distracted.

‘I don't know what we're going to do,' he said. ‘How can we go on?'

‘Brace up, lad,' said Owen in a bad northern accent. Libby smiled at his brave attempt at encouragement.

‘It'll be fine, Damian,' said Libby. ‘Ben and Peter will sort it out, you see if they don't.'

‘However,' said Peter, ‘you must report it to the police, Lib.'

‘Oh, God. If I do that they'll close us down again.'

Owen and Damian looked at each other.

‘Do we have to?' asked Owen. ‘After all, it hasn't harmed anyone.'

‘But it has,' said Damian. ‘It harmed Max.'

‘That's true,' said Peter. ‘You haven't got a choice, Lib.'

Ben emerged triumphant through the theatre doors. ‘Sorted. Let's go and check it out,' he said.

Libby put a hand on his arm. ‘Ben, Peter says we must report it to Ian.'

He looked surprised. ‘Of course. I've already done it.'

‘Oh.' The other four looked at one another.

‘And how did he take it?' asked Libby. ‘Does he want us to shut up shop again?'

‘He didn't say so,' said Ben. ‘He said his people had done a thorough job up here yesterday but they could hardly have taken apart the equipment. He seemed to think it gave the perpetrator a motive.'

‘That's what we thought,' said Libby. ‘So we can go ahead?'

‘Yes, once I can get upstairs.' Ben glanced at Damian sitting despondently on the bottom step. ‘Come on, Mozart. Let's get going.'

Peter grinned and followed them up, and Owen and Libby returned to the auditorium. Within a very few minutes the opening chords of Damian's score echoed through the space and galvanised the dancers into movement. Owen went up to the stage to speak to Sebastian, and as the lighting changed
Pendle
began to come to life.

There was a noticeable hesitation as the moment for the reveal of the Kabuki curtain came closer, but they carried on and looked relieved when nothing happened at the appointed time. The dancing seemed to take on a new energy after that, Libby thought, watching entranced.

They broke for lunch when Harry appeared demanding to know where they all were. Owen was smiling, and all the dancers were buoyant. Libby left them to it and went to help Hetty with the tea and coffee urns.

‘You must be relieved,' she said to Damian, when she went back to the large sitting-room.

‘Of course,' he said wanly.

‘You don't look it.'