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“His weapon’s as blunt as old boots.”
“It weighs enough for a whack on the head to fix Macbeth.”
“Yerse. But it didn’t.”
“No. We’ll move on. Banquo. Banquo, we find, is a very rum fellow. He’s devious, is Banquo, and he was ‘dead’ all this long time and free, up to the second curtain call to go wherever he liked. He could have gone into the O.P. corner and waited there in the dark with the claidheamh-mor when Gaston left it there for the stagehand to put the dummy head on it. The stagehand did put it there. Banquo removed it and did the deed. There’s no motive that I can see but he’s a possibility.”
“And are you going to tell me that Banquo is the perpetrator of the fu
“I rather think so. I’m far from happy with the idea, all the same.”
“Humph,” said Fox.
“We’ll knock off now for a while.” He looked into the dark house. “It was a wonderful production, Fox,” he said. “The best I’ve seen. Almost too good. I don’t think they can carry on.”
“What do you suppose they’ll do in its place?”
“Lord knows. Something quite different. Getting Gertie’s Garter,” said Alleyn angrily.
Chapter 7
THE YOUNGER ELEMENT
It was a quarter past three when Peregrine let himself into his house and gave himself a drink. A very stiff whiskey and a sandwich and then upstairs softly to bed.
“Hullo,” said Emily. “You needn’t creep about. I waked when you opened the front door.”
He turned on his bedside lamp.
“What’s happened?” she said when she saw his face.
“Didn’t Cip tell you?”
“Only that there’d been an accident. He said, privately, that Robin didn’t understand. Not properly and he wasn’t sure that he did.”
“Is Robin upset?”
“You know what he’s like.”
“Has he gone silent?”
“Yes.”
“I’d better tell you,” said Peregrine. And did.
“Oh, Perry,” she whispered. “How awful.”
“Isn’t it?”
“What will you do? Go on?”
“I think not. It’s not decided. Alleyn pointed out what would happen.”
“Not the same Mr. Alleyn?” she exclaimed.
“Yes. The very same. He was in front last night. He’s a Chief Superintendent now. Very grand.”
“Nice?”
“Yes. There’s nobody arrested or anything like that. Shall I take a look at the boys?”
“They were both asleep an hour ago. Have a look.”
Peregrine crept along the landing and opened their doors. Steady regular breathing in each room.
He came back to his wife and got into bed.
“Sound asleep,” he said.
“Good.”
“God, I’m tired,” he said. He kissed her and fell asleep.
Maggie Ma
And then the confused sound of the audience leaving and Masters again, saying, “Clear, please. Everybody off and to their dressing-rooms. Please.” And hurrying figures stumbling past her and asking each other, “What accident? What’s happened?” and Malcolm and the soldiers: “It’s him. Did you see? Christ Almighty.”
There was a muddle of human beings, Na
“Na
“Never you mind, dear. We’ll be told. All in good time.”
“Go out, Na
Na
“Nina!” Maggie had called. “Come in. Come in, darling.”
Nina was in disarray but had changed and had put on her scarves and a tam-o’-shanter of the kind that needs careful adjustment and had not received it. There were traces of mascara under her eyes.
“Maggie!” she cried. “Oh, Maggie, isn’t it awful?”
“Isn’t what awful? Here. Sit down and pull yourself together, for pity’s sake and tell me. Is somebody dead?”
Nina nodded her head a great many times.
“Who”? Is it Dougal? Yes? For the love of Mike, pull yourself together. Has everybody lost their heads?”
Nina produced a shrill cackle of laughter. “What is it?” Maggie demanded.
“He has,” shrieked Nina. “Dougal has.”
“Has what?”
“Lost his head. I’m telling you. Lost his head.”
And while Maggie took in the full enormity of this, Nina broke into an extraordinary diatribe.
“I told you. I told lots of you. You wouldn’t listen. It’s the Macbeth curse, I said. If you make nonsense of it it’ll strike back. If Perry had listened to me, this wouldn’t have happened. You ask Brucie Barrabell, he’ll tell you. He knows. Those tricks with heads. They were warnings. And now — look.”
Maggie went to her little drinks cupboard. She was an abstemious woman and it was stocked for visitors rather than for herself, but she felt she now needed something, actually to prevent her fainting. The room was unsteady. She poured out two large brandies and gave one to Nina. Both their hands were shaking horridly.
They drank quickly and shuddered and drank again.
Na
“Sort of,” said Maggie. “Only what happened. Not how, or why or anything else.”
“I saw Mr. Masters. The first anybody knew was the head carried on by Mr. Sears. Mr. Masters said that was absolutely all and he’s coming to see you as soon as he can. While we were talking a very distinguished-looking gent came up who said he was the Yard. And that’s all I know,” said Na
“Yes. What about you, Nina? You could ask to go and I could take you.”
“I said I’d go with Bruce. I’m on his way and he’ll drop me. I’ve finished my drink, thank you all the same, dear Maggie, and I feel better.”
“Come on, then. So do I. I think,” said Maggie. “Lock up, Na
They left their keys with Mr. Fox. Masters was in deep conference with Alleyn but he saw her and hurried toward her.
“Miss Ma
They fled. Their car was waiting and there was still a small crowd in the alleyway. Maggie turned up her collar but was recognized.
“It’s Margaret Ma
“I don’t know,” she said. Na
The car began to back down the alleyway. Greedy faces at the windows. Impudent faces. Curious, gri
“Horrible people,” she said. “And I thought I loved them.”
She began, helplessly, to cry.
Gaston Sears walked up the path to his front door and let himself in. He was, by habit, a night owl and a lonely bird, too. Would it have been pleasant to have been welcomed home by a tender little woman who would ask him how the day, or rather, the night, had gone? And would it have been a natural and admirable thing to have told her? He went into his workroom and switched on the light. The armed Japanese warrior, grimacing savagely, leaped up, menacing him, but he was not alarmed. He found, as he expected, the supper tray left by his Chinese housekeeper. Crab salad and a bottle of a good white wine.