“Well, I…Yes, I saw Michael Proctor. He was in the wings. I’m sure he was dreaming of the night when he might have his chance to play Vole. Not that I believe for a moment he arranged to do so. He has such a helpless air, doesn’t he? I can see this business devouring him whole in another year or so.”
“And Areena Mansfield. Did you see
her as well?”
“Certainly. She made the dash to her dressing room. She had a full costume and makeup change between those scenes. She raced right past me. But honestly, Lieutenant, if you want the positions and activities of the cast between scenes, you don’t want to talk to one of us. You want Quim. He’s head stagehand, a rumpled little man with sneaky eyes that miss little to nothing. He’s everywhere.”
“Not anymore,” Eve said quietly. “Linus Quim was found hanged this morning in the theater. Lower level.”
For the first time, Eliza’s polished veneer cracked. Her hand went to her heart, trembled there. “Hanged?” The well-trained voice was husky on the single word. “Hanged?” she repeated. “There must be a mistake. Who would kill a harmless little toad like Quim?”
“It appeared to be self-termination.”
“Nonsense.” Eliza got to her feet. “Why, that’s nonsense. It takes great bravery or great cowardice to end your own life. He had neither. He was just an irritating little man, one who did his job well and never seemed to enjoy it. If he’s dead, someone killed him. That’s two,” she said almost to herself. “Two deaths in the theater. Tragedies come in threes. Who’s next?”
She shuddered, lowered herself to her chair again. “Someone’s killing us.” The avid interest in her eyes was gone, the play of amusement around her mouth turned down to worry. “There’s another play, Lieutenant Dallas, by the late Dame Christie. And Then There Were None. Ten people, subtly linked, who are murdered one at a time. I don’t intend to have a role in it. You have to stop this.”
“I intend to. Is there a reason anyone would wish you harm, Ms. Rothchild?”
“No. No. I have no enemies on the scope that leads to murder. But there will be at least one more. It’s theater, and we’re a superstitious lot. If there’s two, there must be three. There will be three,” she said. “Unless you do something about it.”
She jolted when her security beeped. The lobby clerk’s face came cheerfully on-screen. “Ms. Landsdowne is here to see you, Ms. Rothchild. Shall I send her up?”
“I’m engaged at the moment,” she began, but Eve held up a hand.
“Please, have her come up.”
“I—” Eliza lifted a hand to her hair, patted it. “Yes, yes, please send her up.”
“Does Carly often drop by?” Eve asked.
“Not really. She’s been here, of course. I enjoy entertaining. I don’t recall her simply popping in this way. I’m really not up to chatting with her at the moment.”
“That’s all right. I am. I’ll get the door,” Eve said when the buzzer sounded.
Eve took a moment to study Carly’s face on the security screen. Frantic would have been her description. She watched it change to shock, then smooth out quickly to careless curiosity after she opened the door.
“Lieutenant. I didn’t realize you were here. Apparently I’ve chosen a bad time to pay a call on Eliza.”
“Saves me tracking you down for a follow-up interview.”
“Too bad I don’t have my lawyer in my pocket.” She stepped inside. “I was just out shopping and decided to drop by.” She caught Eve’s speculative look at her empty hands. “I had a few things sent on to my apartment. I do hate lugging parcels. Eliza.”
Carly swept in, arms spread, and met Eliza in the center of the living area. They exchanged light hugs and double-cheeked air kisses. “I didn’t realize you were entertaining the NYPSD. Shall I leave you alone?”
“No.” Eliza gripped her arm. “Carly, the lieutenant’s just told me Quim’s dead. Linus Quim.”
“I know.” Turning, she linked arms with Eliza. “I caught the news on-screen.”
“I thought you were shopping.”
“I was.” Carly nodded at Eve. “There was a young man entertaining himself with a palm unit while his young woman tried on half the wardrobe in sportswear and separates. I heard the name.”
She lifted a hand, appeared to struggle with herself briefly. “It upset me—panicked me, frankly. I didn’t know what to think when I heard the report. I was just a few blocks away, and I came here. I wanted to tell someone who’d understand.”
“Understand what?” Eve prompted.
“The report said it’s believed his death is linked to Richard’s. I don’t see how it could be. Richard never took notice of techs or crew. As far as he was concerned, the sets were dressed and changed by magic. Unless there was a problem. Then he’d abuse them verbally or physically. Quim never missed a cue, so Richard wouldn’t have known he existed. How could there be a link?”