Cherringham--Playing Dead Read Free Page A

demonstrate in year one that it has ‘a credible business plan’, then he can rescind the lease and take the building back.”
    “Wow, that’s some small print,” said Jack. “Who let that one through?”
    “I don’t like to name names, Jack,” said Helen, “but unfortunately it’s our Chair, Ambrose Goode. Ran the place for years, produced, directed, starred — but recently, well…”
    “Ambrose is getting on a bit, Jack, and it turns out he’s been rather in denial about his ability to keep on top of things,” said Sarah.
    “That’s putting it mildly,” said Helen.
    “He insisted on negotiating the lease and only after it was signed did the other trustees see the sell-back clause,” said Sarah.
    “Ah,” said Jack. “So if Ambrose is a little … flaky … I guess that’s why you’ve got the celebrity director on the case — Jez Kramer?”
    “Hmmph,” said Helen. “It was the Board’s decision. In my opinion, the less said about him the better.”
    “Ambrose and Jez don’t quite see eye to eye,” said Sarah.
    “The man’s poisoned the whole production,” said Helen. “Him, and his ego. And he can be positively nasty, too!”
    “Some of the cast have even walked out,” said Sarah.
    “Those who’ve been well enough,” said her mother. “And the rest are at each other’s throats as a result.”
    No fans of Jez Kramer here then, thought Jack.
    “But anyway — he can’t possibly be responsible,” said Helen.
    “No?”
    “Well, it’s hardly in his interest, is it?” said Helen. “He’s being well-paid for his star-turn as director.”
    “Okay. So let’s go back to the property guy — Andy Parkes. You think he could be sabotaging the show so the Players fail and he can get the building back?”
    He watched Helen look pleadingly at Sarah. She clearly didn’t want to say the words.
    “I think Mum believes — it’s possible,” said Sarah.
    “Not that I have any evidence. Still…” Helen said.
    “Okay,” said Jack. “Well, it’s a theory. A motive — if nothing else.”
    “You think?” said Sarah.
    “Sure.”
    “So what happens now?” said Helen.
    Jack shrugged: “I like this little theatre. As a relatively new resident in Cherringham, I want it to succeed.”
    Helen beamed.
    “Thank you.”
    “To start: we look for a modus operandi. Why don’t you tell me exactly what happened — and show me how that lighting rig works?”
    And Jack got up from his oh-so-comfy chair and walked into the wings.
    *
    Sarah sat on the sofa and worked on her laptop while Jack investigated backstage.
    She’d spent all of yesterday afternoon getting feedback from a client on a website she’d built, and now she had to try and make sense of it all.
    Plus — she’d never had a head for heights and she had no intention of climbing up the little ladder into the lighting rig with Jack.
    Once she’d made sure he was safety-clipped properly, she was happy to leave him to his devices.
    For the last half hour she’d been able to hear him backstage, tapping away at metal, going up and down the ladder, moving chains around.
    Had he ever investigated a crime in a Broadway theatre, on — what did they call it? — The Great White Way?
    He certainly seemed comfortable in the theatre.
    But apart from Jack’s banging around, checking things, the building was silent. A haven. Her mother had been called home too, so in fact now — sitting in the middle of Lord and Lady Blake’s faux drawing room — she felt quite at home.
    I should come here more often, she thought. Like working in Downton Abbey.
    She heard Jack coming down the ladder again and she watched as he emerged on to the stage wiping his hands with an old cloth.
    “You find anything?” she said.
    “Maybe,” he said.
    Sarah had learned to be patient when Jack was slowly working things out, but it did test her when he seemed to do it on purpose.
    Almost teasing…
    She watched as he stood in the middle of the stage and peered