Free Corpse de Ballet by Ellen Pall

Drew never had to sit alone in an office. Nancy Drew never had to make up stuff for imaginary people to say to each other. If someone wanted to sabotage Ruth, if someone had attacked Anton Mohr, wasn’t that indeed a matter of plot? Plot and character? Perhaps she could talk to the dancers a bit, get to know them, find out a few things …
    â€œI guess I could come for a few days,” she said.
    â€œOf course you can.” Ruth shoved the yogurt container at her again. “Eat up. They’ll be back here in ten minutes.”
    *   *   *
    A few hours after Juliet got home from the Jansch, Ruth phoned to report on Anton. As Victorine had predicted, Dr. Keller found that his injury would not affect his back. On the other hand, he had sprained his ankle mildly and was not to dance for several days. This, Ruth went on, left her with a terrible dilemma, because she had scheduled a formal run-through of Act One for three o’clock on the coming Friday.
    â€œA run-through?” asked Juliet, wondering what that meant and rather disinclined to learn just then. She had already gotten into her pajamas and had just sat down with the fourth volume of Anthony Powell’s A Dance to the Music of Time when the telephone rang. In her opinion, her new job as sous-chef to Ruth Renswick’s life was over for the day. “Can’t you change the date? Or do it without Anton?”
    â€œIt’s not that easy,” said Ruth worriedly. A run-through, she explained, was an informal performance of a work-in-progress, in the studio, for a small, invited audience. It provided a chance for both dancers and choreographer to see and feel the work whole. Equally important, this run-through would be the first time the design team saw the piece in action, their first chance to refine and recalibrate the somewhat theoretical plans they had made for sets, costumes, and lights. It would also be the first official viewing of Ruth’s progress by the administrators of the Jansch, who had so precipitously decided to stake their season on Great Ex. If they were pleased, money and attention would continue to flow. If they were displeased—well, Ruth didn’t want to think about what would happen if they were displeased. In short, the run-through was vitally important, both on a practical and a ceremonial level, and to have it danced by the second cast did not suit her ideas at all.
    On the other hand, she had already invited some two dozen extremely busy people (the costume designer and her staff, the set designer and his, the lighting designer, the American assistant to the composer), all of whom had made room in their schedules to come.
    â€œSo you’ll change it and they’ll make some more room,” said Juliet, eyeing her Powell book longingly. Wistfully, she wondered how people qualified for that “extremely busy” label Ruth seemed to revere so much.
    After considerable hand-wringing and why-don’t-you yes-butting, Ruth finally agreed it must be postponed. They hung up at last and, the next day, Gretchen Manning was pressed into service to make the necessary, complicated web of calls and cross-calls. In the end, the run-through was rescheduled for Wednesday of the following week.
    *   *   *
    Meanwhile, rehearsals went on—and, true to her word, Juliet went on attending them. The first thing she did, on entering each afternoon, was to take a sniff at the rosin box. So far, the outrage had not been repeated.
    On the day following his injury, Anton Mohr, his left ankle firmly wrapped with an elastic bandage, sat in his wonted place near the piano and watched as Hart Hayden came to the fore, both literally and figuratively. Partnering Elektra, Hayden gave himself unstintingly to Ruth, while Kirsten Ahlswede, temporarily paired with the dancer who was to be third Pip, a longtime soloist named Nicky Sabatino, stood behind them and followed their lead. If