Part 25 (1/2)
Chapter Eighteen.
Several hours later, after they had brought Aaron home and convinced him that no one suspected him of murder, Diana pirouetted before her mirror in a new evening gown. It was a splendid creation of blue velvet with a vest of straw-colored satin embroidered and trimmed with black Chantilly lace. It had a long, square train and a small satin collar and epaulets that were composed of double frills of lace held by richly beaded pa.s.s.e.m.e.nterie that fell in ta.s.sels.
”Suitable for a night at the theater?” she asked Ben, who watched her from the doorway. She rather liked the hungry look in his eyes.
Diana had returned to the house to discover that Maggie's dressmaker had delivered the creation in their absence.
”You want to go out? Tonight?”
”Maggie would like to see Toddy's troupe in action. Surely you don't want her to go alone.”
”Can you bear The d.u.c.h.ess of Calabria again?”
”I shall enjoy Maggie's reactions to it.”
Diana had all but decided she was wrong about Charles Underly. In any case, if something was going to happen, it seemed likely it would be after Sat.u.r.day's performance, not tonight. All the murders, and the attempt on her in New York, had followed the same pattern.
She smiled confidently at her image in the mirror and winked at Ben's scowling countenance reflected behind her. The common thread, if there was one, was the day of the week and the imminent departure of Todd's Touring Thespians from their current stand.
”I do not like seeing you use yourself as bait, Diana. I want you safe.”
She did not argue, merely turned and extended her hand. ”Maggie's waiting for us. Do you want to change into more formal apparel or go as you are?”
He took his time studying her gown. ”I'll change,” he said in a voice that was very nearly a growl. ”Don't take one step out of the house without me.”
A short time later they were on their way to the Bangor Opera House. ”You'll find it a very modern structure,” Maggie said. ”There are enough fixed folding chairs for an audience of 700. A marked improvement over the moveable benches used elsewhere in the city.”
When she saw the interior, Diana had to agree. On stage a painted curtain decorated with castles and snow-capped peaks formed the backdrop for a s.p.a.cious stage.
”When Oscar Wilde was here,” Ben said, ”they hung tapestries that made it look like an elegant parlor.”
Maggie fell silent when the play began and said not a single word as the drama unfolded. Diana did not attempt to speak either. She studied the actors from a new perspective and came away thinking that, on stage at least, neither Toddy nor Charles Underly were convincing murderers.
At the interval a note was delivered to Diana. ”From Lavinia Ross,” she murmured in a bemused voice. ”An invitation to come backstage after the play.” It was the last thing she'd expected. It reminded her that she'd received a similar invitation on a certain Sat.u.r.day night in New York.
An hour later, they descended the flight of stairs that led from the stage to the dressing rooms, which were situated directly beneath the auditorium. The one Lavinia shared with Patsy and Jerusha was heated with steam and fitted out with a large mirror. Gas brackets on each side provided light to apply grease paint, and there were plenty of hooks for clothing. A marble wash bowl added the final elegant touch. Someone who cared about the needs of theatrical people had designed this theater.
”I have been considering what you told us at supper last night,” Lavinia said after she and Diana had greeted each other with false affection and even more exaggerated compliments, on Diana's part, about Lavinia's performance. ”Your promise to reveal the ident.i.ty of a murderer was not intended as a joke, was it?”
”No,” Diana admitted.
”And your fall on the train? That was no accident? Nor was the incident on the ice?” In spite of Lavinia's breathy voice, her words conveyed the seriousness of the questions.
”I don't know. And I don't know who the murderer is, either. It was just a bluff.”
Lavinia turned away to rub rouge off her cheeks, but the mirror reflected the wicked glee in her eyes. ”I do. Send for the constable, Diana. Tell him to arrest Charles Underly.”
Jerusha gasped. Patsy's hands stilled in the act of removing her greasepaint.
”The law demands proof,” Ben said in a mild voice. ”I have no difficulty believing Underly guilty, but the city marshals and the county sheriff may need convincing.”
”I can testify that I caught him creeping about in the drawing-room car that night on the train,” Lavinia said. ”It was just before you were found in the snow, Diana. Charles tried to convince me he was waiting for me. That he had a romantic interest in me. That is why I didn't mention the incident before. Toddy is so terribly jealous.” She ignored Jerusha's snort of disbelief. ”It did not seem suspicious at the time.”
”Did no one notice that he'd slipped out of the parlor car? He'd have had no business in the drawing-room car.”
”Mrs. Wainflete had already retired for the night,” said Jerusha. ”No one else would have cared.”
”Except Toddy.” Lavinia's squawk of protest had no effect on her rival.
”If anyone had seen him,” Jerusha mused, ”they'd have a.s.sumed he was on his way to the men's washroom. The door to the gents was right next to the exit.”
”It doesn't matter what anyone thought at the time,” Lavinia sputtered. ”We all know how upset Charles was by his reviews. Now we know what he did about it.”
”His behavior that night does sound suspicious,” Diana agreed, ”but being in the drawing-room car is not enough, of itself, to condemn him.”
”There's more.” Lavinia's eyes gleamed with malice. ”He deliberately caused me to fall on the ice, then called to you for help in order to lure you across the thin part. And those three women were stabbed, were they not?” She did not wait for confirmation before she pounded the final nail into Charles Underly's coffin. ”Surely you have noticed how he clings to his cane.”
”His cane? But -- ”
Lavinia laughed. ”Didn't you realize it's a sword stick? One twist of the handle and he can unsheathe a length of the finest Toledo steel. Perfect for dealing with intrusive members of the press.”
Ben had heard enough. He slipped out of the dressing room and sent for both the marshal and the county sheriff's deputies. When they arrived, they took Charles Underly into custody, ignoring his loud protests.
”I am innocent, I tell you!” he shouted.
”What if he's telling the truth?” Diana whispered. She and Ben stood beside Maggie and the three actresses at the entrance to their dressing room.
”He'd be a fool to admit to the charges.”
Underly sent a last, pleading glance over his shoulder. It contained none of his usual arrogance, or even resentment, only panic and confusion. ”Help me, for G.o.d's sake! Find the real killer.”
”I didn't think he was that good an actor,” Diana murmured.
Nathan Todd, watching from the other side of the small lobby that separated the dressing rooms, wore a stricken expression. Ben wasn't sure what upset the actor/manager more, the accusation that Underly was a murderer or the news that Lavinia had been keeping secrets from him. Todd rounded on the young woman as soon as the prisoner was out of sight. ”If you thought he was trying to seduce you, you should have said something.”
Jaw set, back ramrod straight, Lavinia stormed into Todd's dressing room. He followed, slamming the door behind him.
”Oh, la,” Jerusha said.
”Maybe he'll finally realize what a shrew that girl is,” Patsy remarked as sounds of an escalating quarrel reached them. She handed Jerusha her wrap, preparatory to returning to the hotel.
”Will the next two performances be canceled?” Maggie asked.
”Oh, I doubt it.” Jerusha managed a bright smile. ”Toddy was saying just this morning that he'd found a likely young actor right here in Bangor. I expect he'll take him on to replace Charles.”
”Unless Charles Underly is set free.”
Ben turned to stare at Diana. She almost sounded as if she felt some sympathy for the fellow.