“We’ll have a break, ladies and gentlemen,and then try one more read-through before we bring the curtain downon our evening,” he said to the troupe as soon as his ear detectedthe familiar footfall of his butler.
The hall door did indeed open, but Chiverswas not there gliding behind his trolley. Instead he stood blockingthe doorway, a look of consternation on his face.
“What is it, Chivers?”
“There’s a vagabond at the door, sir, dressedup in a peeler’s uniform, asking to be let in.”
“Then, show him the road,” Sir P. saidsharply, standing up.
Chivers never got a chance to reply, for hewas abruptly pushed aside, and the aforesaid vagabond barged intothe theatre, blinking in the glare of its chandeliers.
“What is the meaning of this outrage?” Sir.P. thundered.
All eyes were now upon the intruder, none ofthem welcoming.
“I am a policeman, sir. And I’m hereon official police business,” Cobb shouted across the room.
Sir Peregrine converted his scowl into a thinsmile. “Then, you’d better come in, constable,” he said.
NINE
Cobb found himself comfortably seated in the denadjacent to the platform the Shakespeareans were calling a stage.In here the chairs were leather and the fire cosy. On the sideboarda crystal decanter of sherry winked back at the scented, bluecandles. Following Marc’s advice, Cobb planned to interview thefour club members who might provide him with useful evidence,emphasizing that they were considered to be potential witnesses -not suspects. Further, he was advised to indicate that theirtestimony could be vital in determining the fate of a fellow clubmember, Brodie Langford. That one of them might be the actualmurderer, and lie through his teeth, was to be kept in mind, butthat was all. “If we spook them, we’ll get nothing,” Marc hadwarned.
Cobb himself had decided on the order inwhich he would see the “witnesses.” After informing Sir Peregrinein the presence of the whole troupe that Brodie Langford was inimminent danger of being charged with murder, Cobb indicated thepurpose of his visit, and announced that he would start hisquestioning with the baronet, then move on to Dutton, Fullarton andCrenshaw. The proposed second read-through of The DreamSequence was indefinitely postponed, and as Cobb and SirPeregrine had made their way towards the den, the others drifted,muttering unpleasantries, towards the dining-room and the remainsof supper. Cobb had thought it best to interview the baronet firstbecause he wished to have Gillian Budge’s account of the members’departures either confirmed or disputed. And since the chairmanusually left the meeting last, he should be able to recall exactlywhen the others had departed.
“You were the last person to leave themeetin’?” Cobb began.
Sir Peregrine, who had settled his bulk in achair opposite Cobb, decided to adopt a bemused expression, as ifhe were the director watching himself play a scene. “Always,constable. I invariably have papers to collect and re-organize. Andas captain, I feel obliged to be the last man to abandon ship, soto speak.”
“I see. So you’d remember when the othergents left?”
“There were only four of them – three afteryoung Brodie departed prematurely – just before half past thehour.”
“You’re sure of the time?”
“I am. I requested Mrs. Budge to bring usmaterials for a toast – at precisely nine-twenty-five. She wasthree minutes late by my pocket watch.”
“So you an’ the fellas still there – Mr.Dutton, Mr. Fullarton an’ Mr. Crenshaw – went on with yertoastin’?”
“We did. But toasting is not an indefinitesporting event, constable. We toasted our success at launching anexciting new dramatic project, the fruits of which you may haveobserved in the next room, and then we toasted the Queen.”
“An’ this would take how long?” Cobb had hisnotebook open and his pencil poised, but he was mainly concernedwith checking the time-line he had sketched there, the one he andMarc had worked out.
“Oh, about five or six minutes. Then I askedthe others to bring their scripts to up to me as I had somelast-minute alterations to pencil in on them, thoughts thatoccurred to me only after hearing the members read their parts forthe first time.”
Which must have been quite a shock, Cobbmused.
“So they didn’t leave right away?”
“No. Andrew Dutton came and stood beside me,we went over two brief excisions, he said goodnight to us andleft.”
“Through the coatroom an’ down the backstairs?”
“Yes.”
“Riskin’ any riffraff that might be in thealley just to avoid the taproom?”
Sir Peregrine’s gaze narrowed slightly: hecould detect the intimation of an impertinence at fifty paces. “Wenever experienced any difficulty in exiting via that route,” hesaid coldly.
“So Mr. Dutton left about a quarter toten?”
“Or a minute before, perhaps.”
“I’m curious, sir, why you gents, allbelongin’ to a chummy club, seem to leave by yerselves. Didn’t youever walk home together? Or share a carriage?”
The baronet offered Cobb his well-oiled,condescending smile. “But none of us have become friends yet, yousee. It is our intense interest in the Bard and his glorious worksthat have brought us together. Except for Fullarton, whom I sawoften this past summer, I have met the others only at thesemeetings and, at a distance, waved to them from my pew at St.James. Moreover, we take different routes when we leave. I like towalk up Peter Street in this fine weather and over to theGovernment park, where my driver waits for me with the brougham.Dutton goes east along Front to Jarvis. And Crenshaw usually rideshis horse here, leaving it in a stable around the corner.”
“What about you an’ Mr. Fullarton, though?You’re friends of a sort, aren’t you?”
“We might have been, but, since August, I’veseen him only here and at St. James. He has an invalid wife, youknow, and rarely socializes. Ordinarily he leaves here quite earlyin order to be home with her. Last night was an exception becauseof our play-reading. Still, he was next to consult with me, and aswe had only minor changes to his part, he hurried out – through thecloakroom – at about, say, ten minutes to the hour.”
“That’s very helpful, sir. So that wouldleave just you an’ Mr. Crenshaw?”
“A salient deduction, constable. Crenshaw, Icould see, was unhappy about having been assigned the role ofBottom, so I did not go over his part. I merely spent two or threeminutes explaining that it was the plum role.”
“Then he skedadelled?”
Sir Peregrine smiled. “I think that Yankeeismaptly describes the nature of his departure.”
“So Mr. Crenshaw leaves through the coatroomat about five minutes to ten?”
“A little before that, I believe. I know thatI immediately began sorting my papers and putting them in myleather case. I looked at my watch as I got up to leave, and it wasthree minutes to ten.”
Which, if the baronet were telling the truth,would bring him into the cloakroom too late to be of any help toBrodie. “Think carefully now, sir. When you were in the coatroom,near that window, did you see or hear anythin’ from the alley?”
“I don’t have to think carefully, constable.I did glance out the window as I put my cloak on.”
“What did ya see?”
“I saw someone running north up thealley.”
Cobb’s mouth went dry. “Any idea who itmight’ve been?”
“It was dark and shadowy with swatches ofmoonlight here and there. I can only say for certain that itappeared to be a young person of slim build who could run with somenimbleness.”