Read Stagestruck for Free Online Page B
Authors: Peter Lovesey
perfume from another.’
‘Believe me. I can tell.’
Diamond did believe him.
It was a huge relief to quit the auditorium. Ghosts weren’t the problem.
At the end of the dress circle corridor, Titus used the code system to open a door marked private and started confidently down some uncarpeted stairs. ‘She’s been known to terrify actors in their dressing rooms,’ his voice carried up the staircase to Diamond. ‘And that’s before anyone has told them about her.’
‘Incredible,’ Diamond said, taking the steps with care. He wished no disrespect to Dame Anna Neagle or any other actors, but he knew they thrived on publicity. The sighting of a ghost was a sure way to get a mention in the local press and possibly the nationals, too.
‘Incredible, indeed. You’ll say that again when you view the dressing rooms.’
‘I can’t wait.’ Actually he felt more at ease now he was out of the auditorium. He needed to be alert for this part of the tour, a chance to see where Clarion had got ready for her performance.
They were backstage now and it became obvious that Titus wasn’t just an armchair dramaturge. He knew his way around this place. ‘We’re fortunate in having eleven dressing rooms on three floors, and most of them are big enough for several actors,’ he said. ‘It means when you put on a small play like I Am a Camera , with a cast of seven, there’s no need to double up unless the actors prefer to share. If it were me, I would be happy to fraternise. I’m sociable by nature, as you may have gleaned.’
‘Which room was Clarion’s?’
‘The number one, naturally, with shower and WC ensuite, although I think the number two is more luxurious. However, this is known as the Alec Guinness because Sir Alec himself endowed it.’ Titus opened a door. ‘Voilà. Pause for a moment and reflect on all the great bottoms that have warmed the seat of that chair.’
It was not a thought Diamond cared to dwell on. ‘Clarion must have felt honoured to be in here.’
‘Or intimidated.’
‘True.’ Spacious, and with a huge dressing table and ornate gilt mirror, the room would surely have satisfied the most exacting of actors. A chandelier, chaise longue, wash basin with gold fittings, draped curtains, vases of flowers, electric kettle and a view from the window of the lawn fronting Beau-ford Square. For Diamond, it came as a relief to see daylight.
‘It cost Sir Alec rather more than he’d bargained for,’ Titus said. ‘When he first stepped in here to inspect the decor, the paint hadn’t dried. He didn’t know and got a patch of red on his cashmere overcoat. He was gracious enough to dismiss it with a theatrical aside that he would have made an appalling Macbeth.’
‘Oh yes?’ The point of the story escaped Diamond. No doubt a man of culture would have appreciated it.
‘“I am in blood stepp’d in so far,” et cetera,’ Titus murmured, more to himself than his companion.
Diamond crossed the room for a closer look at the dressing table. He was starting to function again as a detective, the thing he was paid to do . ‘I don’t see any make-up here.’
‘Clarion didn’t need it,’ Titus said. ‘The dresser was under instructions to make her up and she would have brought her own.’
‘And taken it away after.’ He bent to look more closely at the surface.
‘What are you doing?’ Titus asked.
‘Checking to see if there’s any residue.’
‘Oh, I shouldn’t think so.’ Titus stepped over and put out a hand to check for dust.
Diamond grabbed him by the wrist. ‘Don’t.’
‘Why?’
‘Could be a crime scene. We don’t want your prints all over it.’ He wished he’d sounded less like a policemen.
‘I would never have thought of that,’ Titus said, giving him a long look before adding, ‘That’s a firm grip you’ve got, Peter. Strong hands.’
Diamond backed away and looked at some clothes hanging on the wall. ‘I suppose these belong to her. She’ll have
‘Believe me. I can tell.’
Diamond did believe him.
It was a huge relief to quit the auditorium. Ghosts weren’t the problem.
At the end of the dress circle corridor, Titus used the code system to open a door marked private and started confidently down some uncarpeted stairs. ‘She’s been known to terrify actors in their dressing rooms,’ his voice carried up the staircase to Diamond. ‘And that’s before anyone has told them about her.’
‘Incredible,’ Diamond said, taking the steps with care. He wished no disrespect to Dame Anna Neagle or any other actors, but he knew they thrived on publicity. The sighting of a ghost was a sure way to get a mention in the local press and possibly the nationals, too.
‘Incredible, indeed. You’ll say that again when you view the dressing rooms.’
‘I can’t wait.’ Actually he felt more at ease now he was out of the auditorium. He needed to be alert for this part of the tour, a chance to see where Clarion had got ready for her performance.
They were backstage now and it became obvious that Titus wasn’t just an armchair dramaturge. He knew his way around this place. ‘We’re fortunate in having eleven dressing rooms on three floors, and most of them are big enough for several actors,’ he said. ‘It means when you put on a small play like I Am a Camera , with a cast of seven, there’s no need to double up unless the actors prefer to share. If it were me, I would be happy to fraternise. I’m sociable by nature, as you may have gleaned.’
‘Which room was Clarion’s?’
‘The number one, naturally, with shower and WC ensuite, although I think the number two is more luxurious. However, this is known as the Alec Guinness because Sir Alec himself endowed it.’ Titus opened a door. ‘Voilà. Pause for a moment and reflect on all the great bottoms that have warmed the seat of that chair.’
It was not a thought Diamond cared to dwell on. ‘Clarion must have felt honoured to be in here.’
‘Or intimidated.’
‘True.’ Spacious, and with a huge dressing table and ornate gilt mirror, the room would surely have satisfied the most exacting of actors. A chandelier, chaise longue, wash basin with gold fittings, draped curtains, vases of flowers, electric kettle and a view from the window of the lawn fronting Beau-ford Square. For Diamond, it came as a relief to see daylight.
‘It cost Sir Alec rather more than he’d bargained for,’ Titus said. ‘When he first stepped in here to inspect the decor, the paint hadn’t dried. He didn’t know and got a patch of red on his cashmere overcoat. He was gracious enough to dismiss it with a theatrical aside that he would have made an appalling Macbeth.’
‘Oh yes?’ The point of the story escaped Diamond. No doubt a man of culture would have appreciated it.
‘“I am in blood stepp’d in so far,” et cetera,’ Titus murmured, more to himself than his companion.
Diamond crossed the room for a closer look at the dressing table. He was starting to function again as a detective, the thing he was paid to do . ‘I don’t see any make-up here.’
‘Clarion didn’t need it,’ Titus said. ‘The dresser was under instructions to make her up and she would have brought her own.’
‘And taken it away after.’ He bent to look more closely at the surface.
‘What are you doing?’ Titus asked.
‘Checking to see if there’s any residue.’
‘Oh, I shouldn’t think so.’ Titus stepped over and put out a hand to check for dust.
Diamond grabbed him by the wrist. ‘Don’t.’
‘Why?’
‘Could be a crime scene. We don’t want your prints all over it.’ He wished he’d sounded less like a policemen.
‘I would never have thought of that,’ Titus said, giving him a long look before adding, ‘That’s a firm grip you’ve got, Peter. Strong hands.’
Diamond backed away and looked at some clothes hanging on the wall. ‘I suppose these belong to her. She’ll have