‘Leave it,’ Diamond said at once. Proper forensic procedure debarred them from handling anything at this stage. ‘We’re doing everything by the book, right?’
‘Right, guv.’
‘She’s so famous that every action we take is going to be picked over by the media. And what is more, from now on, anyone backstage from the manager down has the chance of making big money by selling exclusives.’
‘Christ, they’ll be round here with their mobiles taking pictures.’
Diamond nodded. ‘It wouldn’t surprise me if the lighting guy has already taken a long shot from somewhere up there.’
‘And those paramedics may have spoken to the press. You want to seal the building?’
‘That would be a start. This theatre has more entrances than Victoria station. I’m sure PC Reed is a good copper, but we need twenty of her. Yes, get reinforcements. Get our team in, everyone you can raise, and a scene of crime unit.
Tell them to bring arc lamps and some kind of screen for the open side.’
‘There are curtains.’
He cringed at his own stupidity. Crimson velvet and about ten feet long, they were difficult to miss, but he’d managed it. ‘Where would I be without you? Pull them across. And where does this other door lead to?’
He opened it and got his answer: the dress circle.
He pushed open the door to the stairs and told PC Reed she now had two doors to guard, so she’d better come inside the box with the body. ‘Does that bother you?’
‘No, sir.’
‘Good answer. You’re the speed writer, I believe.’
She nodded.
‘Do you get every word?’
‘I try to.’
‘And is it understandable to anyone else?’
‘If they can read my writing.’
‘May I see?
She took her notebook from her tunic pocket and opened it at an example.
‘What’s this, then?’ he asked.
‘The interview with Denise Pearsall.’
‘On Tuesday morning? You and Sergeant Dawkins?’
‘Yes.’
He frowned at the first few letters – hv w mt b4 – and then smiled. ‘Neat. I get it. May I tear these pages out? I’d like to read the rest.’
‘Take the notebook, sir.’
‘No, you’re going to need it. We’re expecting the pathologist. If he says anything, be sure to get it down. Over to you, then.’
He and Halliwell stepped through to the dress circle and for no obvious reason he felt less troubled than he’d expected by the sight of the auditorium. He looked across to the far side and spotted a movement in the royal circle, one level down. He shouted through his hands, ‘Where are you going, Mr Shearman?’
‘Backstage, to see if the actors are all right.’
‘Make an announcement over the public address. Nobody leaves the building. Everyone still here is to assemble in the stall seats: actors, crew, cleaners, front of house people, the lot.’
‘It’s getting late.’
‘That’s an order.’
Halliwell, phone in hand, told him CID and uniform were alerted. More officers were already downstairs and security had been told to seal the building. ‘But if she was murdered, whoever did it is most likely out and away.’
‘Which is one good reason to find out who’s still here,’ Diamond said. ‘Get them listed when they’re all together. They’re going to be stroppy. Do your best. I’ll speak to them as a group.’
Dr Sealy, the pathologist, arrived, grumbling that he’d been watching an old Inspector Morse on television and now he wouldn’t find out who did it.
‘Give me strength! This is the real bloody thing,’ Diamond said.
‘Without the culture.’
‘Do you want me to hum the Morse music?’
‘Frankly, old boy, if you sang the whole of Die Meistersinger, it wouldn’t make a blind bit of difference.’ Sealy lightened up at the sight of PC Reed, still on duty. ‘But here’s a Rhine maiden sent to help me into my zip-suit.’
‘She won’t be doing that,’ Diamond said. ‘She’s working for me.’
‘Getting into one of these isn’t simple, you know.’
‘Tough.’
Dawn Reed remained impassive while Sealy struggled into the white suit.
Over the public address, Shearman made his announcement telling everyone where to assemble. There was a definite tremor in the voice.
The crime scene people arrived soon after and set up their lighting. Downstairs, more uniformed police reported for duty. Halliwell went off to supervise them.
From the dress circle, Diamond watched the actors and backstage staff respond to the summons and take seats in the stalls. A hierarchy was observed without any supervision from the police: actors in the front row, stage management behind them, the crew next, then the front-of-house team and finally the cleaners. Among the actors, Diamond spotted Gisella, Preston Barnes and the woman playing Fräulein Schneider. Kate from wardrobe was in the third row. A late arrival from backstage was Titus O’Driscoll and he was uncertain where to position himself until Shearman offered him a second-row seat. There must have been forty to fifty people there already.
Binns, the stand-in doorkeeper, was one of the last to arrive, having reluctantly been replaced by a policeman.
Still upstairs, Diamond opened the door of the box and asked Sealy if he’d found anything of interest.
‘Run away and play, will you? I’ve hardly started.’
Impatient investigating officers don’t cut much ice with pathologists. Diamond exchanged a long-suffering look with PC Dawn Reed. ‘Tell me when he comes out.’ He took the stairs down to the ground floor and was pleased to find most of his CID team already there: Ingeborg was helping Halliwell list the names of all present. Leaman and young Paul Gilbert were in the aisle and the man he thought of as the square peg, Fred Dawkins, was in conversation with one of his recent colleagues in uniform.
Diamond asked Shearman if anyone was missing.
‘I think not,’ the manager said. ‘There’s a spare programme here. If you go through the names you’ll find all the cast and crew are accounted for. How long will this take?’
This was brushed aside. ‘So where’s the big man?’
‘Who do you mean?’
‘Melmot.’
‘Francis? He’s not in the play.’
‘I’m not asking who’s in it. Was he in the theatre tonight?’
Shearman pressed a hand to his mouth as if the thought had just dawned. ‘He was, yes, doing the hospitality bit with our special guests. It was Francis who told me Clarion wanted to come. We decided between us that a seat in the box was the best way to keep her hidden.’
‘But has anyone seen him since the play ended?’
Nobody spoke.
Then Gisella said, ‘Did I hear right? Clarion was here?’
Titus O’Driscoll, seated next to Shearman, gave a gasp. ‘I knew it, we’ve been duped.’
Diamond glared. ‘What do you mean?’
‘The sighting.’
‘You’re not making sense.’
‘There was a sighting of the theatre ghost this evening, the same grey lady you and I discussed the other day. A manifestation would be a sensational event by any stretch of the imagination. That’s why I’m here. A reliable witness saw her in the Arnold Haskell box, the one with the drawn curtains.’
All the conversations around them had stopped.
‘This evening?’ Diamond said.
‘During the play. She was all in grey. Where’s Fräulein Schneider?’
‘Here,’ a voice answered from the front row. The big woman turned a stricken look on Titus.
‘Don’t be nervous,’ he urged her. ‘Tell them what you saw.’
‘They won’t believe me.’
‘Out with it, ma’am,’ Diamond said.
Her words soared melodramatically. ‘She was here tonight, I swear, staring at me from the upper box where she is known to materialise.’