Much Ado About Murder Read online

  Audrey shifted her position so she could see her sister. The corners of Maxine’s mouth sagged into a formidable scowl, but she said nothing.

  “It’s a bereavement, Maxine. He had no choice. He had to go. We’ll just have to make the best of it.”

  “Exactly,” said Charlotte. “Well, we’ll leave you to it. And as I said, call me if you need anything.”

  *

  Charlotte and Paula Van Dusen strolled the short distance to Charlotte’s bungalow. “Drink?” Charlotte asked.

  “I don’t know about you, but I need one.”

  Although Charlotte had known about the influential and wealthy Van Dusen family for years, and Paula had been involved with the board of directors and fundraising activities of the theater, the two women had got to know each other just a few months earlier when a body had been found in the garden of Oakland, following the theater company’s outdoor performance of A Midsummer Night’s Dream.

  With a new British star joining the company, Paula had offered to take on the refurbishing of the bungalow. She’d been on site almost every day, giving orders and checking that deliveries arrived on time, and during the course of the project, she and Charlotte became friends. Paula was lonely, and in Charlotte she had found someone who didn’t want or need anything from her. Not her name to lend to a cause, not her time, and above all, not her money. Charlotte had no agenda and wasn’t interested in what Paula could do for her. Paula had found that hugely refreshing and had been drawn to Charlotte for her honesty, sophistication, sense of humor, and common sense.

  While Paula fetched a bottle of gin from the drinks table in Charlotte’s sitting room, Charlotte placed two highball glasses on the counter, opened the fridge, and pulled out a can of tonic. She stepped aside while Paula added a few ice cubes from the door dispenser to the glasses and assembled the drinks.

  “I don’t suppose you’ve got any limes?” Paula asked. “For a wedge to add to the drinks.”

  “Sorry, no. But I’ll get some in for next time. There’s a lemon, though. Will that do?”

  “Certainly.” When she’d added a lemon wedge to each drink, Paula asked, “Where would you like to sit?”

  “How about outside? It’s such a lovely afternoon.”

  When they were settled in Adirondack chairs positioned at the front of the bungalow to overlook the river, Charlotte asked Paula what she thought of Audrey.

  “She seemed nice enough, but it’s hard to tell. I would imagine there’s a lot of stress involved in starting a new job where you don’t know anybody. She’s joining a company that’s already jelled. And then there was the disappointment of the director not being here to meet her, and she’s just got in from a long flight.”

  “Speaking of the flight, it was awfully good of you to send Barnes to meet them at the airport. I’m sure Maxine thought driving from JFK to the Catskills in a vintage Roller is exactly the way Audrey should be treated.”

  Paula smiled. “Well, I thought it would get things off to a good start. Her joining our little company was all very last minute, and it was fortunate, I thought, that she was available and agreed to come here.” She paused for a moment to consider what she’d just said. “I’m sorry, maybe that didn’t come out right. I didn’t mean . . .”

  Charlotte laughed good-naturedly. “I know what you meant, and I thought the same thing. She’s been a big star in the UK since she was a child—what on earth does she want with a small Shakespeare theater company affiliated with a Catskills hotel in upstate New York? She’d play Broadway in a heartbeat, of course, but the likes of us here in Walkers Ridge? Still, we might seem like a small, underfunded company, but we are professional and we’ve got a solid reputation. We’re proud of the work we do. We manage to create a little more magic with a lot less budget than most companies have to work with.”

  She paused for a moment, then continued. “And many young actors who are serious about getting into traditional theater want to start their careers with us for the training and discipline. We get far more applications than we have room for.

  “As for Audrey, we’ll find out in due course what really brought her here. In my experience, most of the older actors are either running away from something or have nothing left to lose. But there’s a third group, and these are the ones who bring joy. For them, the opportunities may have dried up, but they still want to perform. They want to continue to practice their craft in front of an audience, and they aren’t bothered by how much it pays, how big the audience is, or how grand the theater.”

  “There’re some curtains in the barn. Let’s put on a show!” said Paula.

  “Exactly. But the thing is, they’re all in it for something. So we’ll see what brings Audrey here. She’ll have a good reason.” Charlotte took a sip and smacked her lips with a satisfied Ah as the crisp lemony drink caught the back of her throat and infused her senses. “I wonder why gin is considered a summery drink when it tastes the way a Christmas tree smells,” she remarked.

  “No idea,” said Paula as she drained the last of her drink and stood up. “To me it tastes all-year-round-ish. I’m going to fix myself another one. How about you? Are you ready for another?”

  Charlotte shook her head. “No, just the one for me, thanks.”

  “I’ll just have a small one, and then I’d better see what Barnes is up to. It’s been a long day for him, at his age. Normally, he hates turnpike driving. He just likes meandering along our little two-lane blacktop highways, but he seemed quite keen at the prospect of picking up Audrey from the airport.”

  With a small sigh, Paula disappeared around the side of the bungalow and through the door that opened into the kitchen.

  Charlotte leaned back in her chair and closed her eyes. Normally careful about sun exposure, she was enjoying the sensation of the late afternoon sun warming her face when her phone rang. She answered and listened for a few seconds, then, her body stiffening, she straightened up in her chair and asked a series of pointed questions. As she ended the call, Paula returned and slid into the chair beside her.

  “We’ve got a problem,” Charlotte said. “A big one. I’ll have that drink after all.”

  Chapter 2

  “He can’t bail on us just like that! Can he?” Paula demanded. “What does his contract stipulate?”

  “I don’t know. Harvey will have a copy of it somewhere in that messy office of his, along with all the other contracts. Simon told me he’d just spoken with Harvey and was letting me know ‘as a courtesy.’ A courtesy! We were planning to start a theater school together to accommodate all those students who can’t get into New York schools, and now it looks as if that’s down the pan. All that research and planning for nothing.” She got to her feet, brushed her dark hair off her forehead, and scowled.

  “What about the legalities of your theater school?” Paula Van Dusen asked.

  “Money from investors will need to be returned. Fortunately we hadn’t bought a property yet, so the legal affairs could have been much more complicated than they are. Simon said he’ll send something in writing to make it all official. Of course he apologized and said he felt very bad, letting us all down like this. Which he certainly did. His leaving at this time is very hard on the cast. They’ve got to learn to work with a new lead actress—and now a new director as well.” She sat down and met Paula’s eyes. “He said he’d left behind a few staging notes for Much Ado, as well as the rehearsal notes he left with Aaron.”

  “Did he say why he’s not coming back? I hope he had a very good reason.”

  “Well, his father’s just died and his mother isn’t doing very well, and he said he doesn’t feel comfortable leaving her.”

  “I must say, I find this very inconvenient. But I think from now on, the board—and by that, I suppose I mean me—should retain copies of all theater contracts or at least duplicates. Well, we’ll just have to find ourselves another director. And fast.”

  “We will. But it shouldn’t be too hard to find somebody. Ther
e’ll be someone hanging about off Broadway, perhaps, dying for a nice opportunity like this.”

  Paula heaved a deep sigh and took a sip of her refreshed drink.

  “I don’t want to make it sound too easy, though,” said Charlotte. “We do have to be a bit choosy and make sure we get the right person. We need someone who understands the demands of staging Shakespeare. And Audrey has director approval, so whoever we bring in, she has to approve him.”

  “Is that likely to be a problem?”

  “It shouldn’t be. It hasn’t been in the past with any other star actor. They were just happy to be offered the work and signed their contracts with the director who was already in place. The difference here is that Simon offered her the part, and she signed a contract agreeing to work with him. Now that Simon’s out and a new director’s coming in, she gets to approve him. Still, I don’t see that being a problem because I doubt she even knows any American directors—what could she possibly object to?”

  Charlotte checked her watch. “Let’s see now. With Audrey and Maxine just arrived today and settling in, it’s too late to mention this to them now, but we’ll have to let them know tomorrow morning. I’ll make a few calls to see who’s available, and at least that way we might be able to suggest a few directors when we tell them.”

  “Does anyone spring to mind?” Paula asked.

  “I know one or two, but whether they’re free or not I won’t know until I speak to them.”

  “Actually, I might know someone,” said Paula. “Wade Radcliffe. He’s local, and you might remember he was being considered when Simon was appointed. Wade was crushed when we chose Simon over him, and he might be very glad to have another chance at this job. I’ll give him a call and see if he’s interested. He might have retired, for all I know.” She drained her glass. “Thank you for the delicious drinks. Really hit the spot. But now, I must be off.”

  “And I’d better get inside and start making phone calls. Ray’ll be home soon, and I have no idea what we’ll do for dinner.”

  “Oh, that reminds me,” said Paula. “I intend to give a little dinner party when Audrey’s a bit more settled. You and Ray, of course; Harvey and his wife; Audrey; Maxine; and any board members who can make it are welcome, and I was going to ask Simon, but now it’ll be the new director, whoever he is. What do you think?”

  “Lovely idea. You give the nicest dinner parties. Everyone will look forward to it.”

  “Well, call me tomorrow. I’ll have to notify the board about this development and call a meeting, if anyone’s available. Everybody travels so much these days. Never mind. We’ll deal with it. We always do. Our theater company’s come through much worse than this, believe me.”

  She handed Charlotte her empty glass and set off.

  *

  Charlotte was flipping through her Rolodex at the kitchen table when the door opened and a uniformed police officer entered. She looked up and smiled as he approached her and took her in his arms.

  “Good day?” Ray Nicholson asked. “Did your actress arrive as planned?”

  “She did,” Charlotte replied as he released her. “That was the good news. The bad news is that Simon bloody Dyer has quit.”

  “Oh, no,” said Ray. “You can’t put on plays without a director.”

  “No, you can’t. At least you can’t mount a new play without a director. The director’s all about getting the play ready for opening night, and then once all the decisions are made and it’s up and running, other people, like the stage manager, pretty much take it from there. But we’ve got a new actress and she’s going to need rehearsals, so we need to bring in a new director who can work with her and just generally manage the fall season.” She indicated the Rolodex and notebook. “That’s what all this is about. I’m beating the bushes to see who’s available, and Paula thinks she might know someone, so between us, hopefully we can find someone quickly to step in and fill Simon’s shoes.”

  Ray opened the fridge and pulled out a beer. Charlotte took this as a signal that his workday as chief of police of Walkers Ridge was over. If he had any reason to think he could get called back to work tonight, he’d have opted for a soda.

  He tipped his head back as he drank out of the bottle and then set it on the table.

  “Have you had a chance to think about what this means for us?”

  “No, I . . .” Her voice trailed off as she realized what he meant. She and Ray were planning a trip in late October to visit Charlotte’s mother in England, and while there, they intended to get formally engaged.

  “Well, let’s see what happens,” said Ray. “You might get everything sorted out quickly and our plans won’t be affected at all. But if need be, we’ll just have to think of something else. Maybe we could go for the holidays instead.”

  “Yes,” agreed Charlotte. “That could work. Mum would love us to spend Christmas with her.”

  Leaving his beer on the table, Ray disappeared into the bedroom. He returned a few minutes later, having swapped his uniform for a pair of comfortable beige cargo shorts and a dark-green golf shirt. He picked up his beer. “Why do you have to get involved in choosing the new director?” he asked, tipping the bottle toward her to emphasize the word “you.” “I wouldn’t have thought that would be part of your job description.”

  “In a larger company, it wouldn’t be. Hiring a new stage director would fall to the artistic director, but we’re such a small company, we don’t have an artistic director, per se. In our case, the board chooses the director, who then takes on the roles of both artistic director and stage director. He chooses the plays and casts and directs them. But there are advantages for me in helping choose the director—hopefully the person who gets hired is someone I want to work with. I didn’t have much input, though, when Simon was chosen.”

  Rupert, asleep in his basket, stirred. Charlotte glanced at him and then continued.

  “The thing is, we need to get a replacement director ASAP. Since it was announced that Audrey Ashley would be joining us for the fall season, we’ve practically sold out. The PBS crowd is coming to see her because she was in that period drama everybody loved so much, and if we can turn those audience members into subscribers for next season, so much the better. We don’t want to have to cancel performances and refund money. We don’t want the theater dark. That would mean people cancel their hotel bookings, the restaurants in town lose money, and so on. The theater is the main attraction in Walkers Ridge, and we take that responsibility seriously. We do a lot for the local economy.”

  The theater operation dated back to the 1950s, when Harvey Jacobs’s grandmother came up with the idea that a summer Shakespeare festival would be the perfect cultural attraction to lure guests to Jacobs Grand Hotel. Back then, the Catskills were flourishing as a holiday destination for New Yorkers, but within two decades, the great days of the hotels and resorts ended, and most of the buildings were abandoned or lost to fire. But with help from its annual Shakespeare festival, Jacobs Grand Hotel kept going, year after lean year. And now that upstate New York was experiencing an economic resurgence thanks to upwardly mobile New Yorkers flocking to the area in search of craft beers, artisan baking, and fine dining featuring fresh, local produce, the area was once again thriving. And so was Jacobs Grand Hotel. Rooms were being refurbished and modernized, more staff were being hired, and autumn bookings were better than they’d been in years.

  Charlotte, who had begun her career as a costume designer with the venerable Royal Shakespeare Company in Stratford-upon-Avon, had found her way to the Catskills ten years ago after working on a Broadway production. Having grown up in an English village, small-town life in Walkers Ridge suited her, and she enjoyed working for the small theater company. She also worked on a freelance basis on Broadway productions and, through that work, had made connections that might be about to come in handy.

  “I shouldn’t have had the beer,” Ray remarked, touching his stomach and offering a slightly sheepish grimace. “I would have been
better going to the gym.”

  “How about a walk before dinner? You can take Rupert while I finish going through these cards, and when you get back, we’ll cook dinner together.”

  “Good idea.”

  Chapter 3

  In the gray light before dawn, Rupert stood by the bed, watching and waiting. His patience was rewarded when Ray slid his legs over the side of the bed. A moment later when the bathroom door clicked shut, signaling Ray was getting ready to report for the early shift, Rupert launched himself on the bed and hunkered down beside Charlotte. She put an arm around him, pulled him close to her, and the two drifted lazily in and out of sleep for another hour. When they awoke, the morning light was beckoning through the curtains, spilling warm little puddles of sunshine on the floor. Rupert stirred beside her, and together they welcomed a new day.

  A few minutes later, they set off on their inspection of the peaceful morning-hushed grounds of Jacobs Grand Hotel, where Rupert could safely explore off leash. He took off eagerly down the path, rushing past the neighboring director’s bungalow. I hope nobody expects me to pack up and ship Simon’s things, thought Charlotte as she trotted along behind Rupert. And what about returning the key? Simon’s got some logistics to sort out with Harvey’s office. She and Rupert walked on until they reached the property line, then turned and began to retrace their steps toward home, walking a little slower on the return journey, both looking forward to their breakfast.

  When they reached the director’s bungalow, Charlotte hesitated and then, calling Rupert to her, turned up the short path that led to the entrance.

  She climbed the three steps and tried the door. To her surprise, and then dawning realization, it was unlocked. She stepped into the kitchen but, without glancing around and with Rupert at her side, moved straight on to the sitting room, through the heavy stillness of space that had been unoccupied for a time, and into the bedroom.