Free Murder in the Second Row by Bev Robitai Page B

over there and the tin of stain is behind
you on the tray.’
    Jessica spent
half an hour contentedly staining and polishing until the box was
done. ‘There you are, Gert. Is that OK? I’d better go and check on
the rehearsal, but thanks for the safe haven.’
    ‘Any time,
Jessica. We can always use an extra pair of hands down here.’
    Hoping to avoid
running into Nick, Jessica took a route through the Green Room,
letting herself out of the back door, then walked along the narrow
alley that ran beside the theatre to the street out front. She came
in through the main entrance, nipping smartly up the stairs to the
circle, slipping into one of the private boxes. Since they were
seldom used, they were empty of furnishings, except for the
tattiest of the theatre’s old chairs. The advantage was that from
the box she could see the stage without being seen herself, and
wouldn’t distract the cast.
    Centre stage,
the Boynton family was grouped round a low table with Simone
glowering at her fellow actors. The girl playing Ginevra was
agitatedly tearing a tissue into little pieces.
    ‘Ginevra, go
and rest, you’re tired.’ Simone’s sudden deep voice made even
Jessica jump, and the effect on Ginevra was painful to see.
    ‘I’m not really
tired, Mother. I’m all right.’
    ‘No, Ginevra,’
said Simone, sounding oddly pleased. ‘You’re going to be ill.’
    ‘No I won’t! I
will not be ill!’
    ‘Go to your
room and lie down.’
    Tamara, playing
Nadine, offered to take Ginevra upstairs. ‘I’ll come up with you if
you like.’
    Jessica saw
that Tamara’s eyes weren’t on Ginevra, but were looking offstage
instead. She’d bet good money that Nick was standing in the wings
making googly eyes right back at Tamara, enjoying the suggestion of
going upstairs to bed. Behind the hotel’s front desk, Stewart went
through the motions of lighting a cigarette for a guest.
    A movement in
the auditorium caught Jessica’s attention. A tall thin woman who
she didn’t recognise was seated on the cross-aisle. She couldn’t
see the woman’s face, but she seemed to be following Tamara’s
movements with close attention. Jessica debated going down to see
who she was, but decided that if Adam hadn’t objected to her
presence then she wouldn’t interfere. Besides, Austin was seated in
the front row and could easily deal with her if the need arose. She
leaned back and watched more of the story unfold.
    At the end of
the session Adam gave the cast a few notes, then handed over to
Clara-Jane for wardrobe fittings.
    Austin stood
up, holding a small parcel, and called out to Tamara. She walked
downstage, squinting against the lights, and took it from him. She
tore off the wrapping and held up a garment on a hanger. It
unfolded, revealing a little white vinyl “naughty nurse” uniform,
complete with split-crotch fur-trimmed panties and a stethoscope.
She exclaimed in disgust, threw it back at him, and unleashed a
torrent of invective that sent Austin reeling, laced as it was with
obscenities that would have made even Billy Connolly blush. The
theatre’s excellent acoustics meant that her voice penetrated every
corner of the auditorium, leaving nobody in any doubt of her
feelings at Austin’s highly inappropriate costume suggestion.
    ‘You’re a
dirty, sleazy pervert!’ she screamed. ‘I bet you can’t even get it
up any more and this is the only thing that gives you a thrill.
Who’d want to screw you anyway, you filthy old goat! Go suck on
your own dick and I hope it chokes you!’
    ‘Tamara!’
    A stern voice
from the auditorium stopped Tamara in mid-rant. She peered into the
darkness, shading her eyes.
    ‘Oh Christ,
that’s all I need.’ She spat out the words. ‘What the hell do you
want? Have you come to tell me what a bad and horrible person I am
again? Well, tell it to this guy instead, will you? He’s the one
being an asshole.’
    She turned to
storm off stage but the thin woman called her back.
    ‘I want a