Читать книгу Mystery Lady - Paul Magrs - Страница 18

It takes me a while to cotton on to what’s going on, to be honest. I’m still horrified by seeing those bloomin’ maggots in Dodie’s hat , b ut suddenly there’s all this hullaballoo . The director and stage manager are down on the floor, the cameras are pulling away and the guests are being ushered off the stage. Someone announces that we are no longer live on air, and that the police are on their way.

And there is a dead girl lying in the middle of the shiny floor.

Panic ripples through the audience. People are getting up and trying to leave, but the studio staff are attempting to reassure them, telling them that no one should exit the building just yet.

Timothy Bold stands stock still beside the magic box from which he and the victim have just emerged. He has gone into shock. It’s plain to see, as he stands there, simply staring at the girl’s glittering body. I long to dash over and comfort him.Medics are already clustered around the girl. They obscure her from everyone’s view, fussing expertly.

Dodie Golightly isn’t prepared to stay where she’s seated. She’s on her feet and leaving the audience, pushing past the floor manager towards the scene of the crime. As her assistant I have no choice but to follow her.

‘Stand aside, Miss! This is a crime scene!’ says a little man pompously. Dodie ignores him and sweeps straight up to Timothy.

‘Did you see what happened?’ he gasps. ‘It was so dark inside there. I couldn’t see anything. She was wriggling about and then she was choking, and I thought at first she was having a funny turn. And then…then…! She collapsed and the door flew open… I didn’t do anything, Dodie! You know that, don’t you..?’

‘Of course I do,’ she snaps, and puts her arms around him.

Burly security guards have arrived on the scene. All at once they’re seizing hold of our Tim and dragging him away.

‘Where are you taking him?’ Dodie demands to know, but no one answers her.

Studio One is quite chaotic at this point. The audience is rebelling against its orders to stay put. If there’s a murderer in the place, might they not strike again? The very thought is enough to start a stampede toward the exit. ‘Please, wait!’ cries a stressed floor manager. ‘We need witnesses!’

But witnesses to what? No one saw anything.

Dodie has managed to get herself closer to the corpse. ‘Poor thing was strangled with her own feather boa,’ she says musingly. ‘Very quickly. By an expert, I’d say. Someone with very dexterous fingers.’

I’m hanging back a little bit, and that’s when I feel someone tugging at my elbow and going, ‘Psssst,’ in my ear.

‘Yes..?’ I turn to see a very grand old lady in furs and a tiara. Her eyes are watery and the pointed tip of her nose is bright blue.

‘Excuse me, my dear. You are Cassandra, aren’t you?’

‘Why, yes,’ I gasp. I can’t believe that anyone here besides my friends would ever have heard of me.

The pale old lady smiles gently. ‘Good evening, my dear. I’m so sorry to interrupt in the middle of all this excitement. My name is Lucrezia Noggins.’

I boggle at her for a moment. I know that name, don’t I? I’ve heard it before. Quite recently…

‘As I say, beg pardon for the intrusion, my dear, but there’s someone over here who would like to speak to you as a matter of some urgency…’

I let myself be led along by this well-mannered old lady, towards the back of the set, away from the milling crowd.

There, sitting on a chair alone, and looking rather worried, is the victim herself. Doris Hobbs, in her bright green bikini. Lucrezia pats her hand. ‘There, there, my dear. These things come as an awful shock, I know.’

Doris Hobbs coughs and clears her throat. ‘Why is this happening to me..?’ she asks, in a wondering tone.

Lucrezia chuckles lightly and her watery eyes are shining. ‘Ah, if only we knew the answer to that one, my dear! But please. Don’t be scared. Have no fear. Things are in hand.’

The magician’s assistant looks straight at me. ‘And who’s she?’

Lucrezia tells her, ‘She’s a good friend to Timothy Bold.

Remember? You wanted me to fetch her. You wanted to tell her something .’

‘Oh, yes!’ says Doris, sitting up straighter. ‘You’re right. Why are my thoughts so muddled up?’

Lucrezia shrugs. ‘Who can blame them, my dear? You’ve just this minute been strangled to death with your feather boa. You’re bound to feel a little dizzy. But, quickly, tell lovely Cassandra here what she needs to know, and then I can show you the way to go next.’

The Magician’s assistant nods and idly strokes the feathers of the boa that throttled her. ‘It wasn’t him. You mustn’t for a second think this was because of your friend.’

Lucrezia prompts her. ‘Now come along, my dear Doris…’

‘Wait!’ says Doris, a little wildly. ‘Don’t let that nice boy be blamed for my murder! Tell Dodie! Make sure she finds the right one! Tell her she has to expose the right one..! Check the box! It isn’t empty! And watch out for ginger hairs…!’

I stare after them as old Lucrezia leads the girl in the bikini away, into the off-stage area. They are swallowed up in a bank of dry ice.

But… how can this be happening?

That woman was dead. She was strangled here, on this very stage, several minutes ago.

I freeze, there on the spot.

So how was I talking to her?

And she looked straight at me, didn’t she? Both she and the old lady.

Why… I wonder, breathlessly… could it be possible that I have a very special gift..?

Maybe it’s tasteless to feel excited so soon after a poor girl was throttled, but I can’t help myself.

I am gifted…!

I must act at once, though, and pass my message on to Dodie. We must both make sure that Timothy doesn’t get blamed for this…