Stagestruck Read Free Page A

cast iron solid, from the Chief Constable all the way down to PC Reed. We’re ordinary coppers doing our job and our superiors back us every interview of the way. So let’s get down to question and answer, shall we? Did you see what happened last night?’
    A straight question, and no mention of an occurrence. Perhaps it signalled a change of approach. Reluctantly, Shear-man gave Dawkins the benefit of the doubt. The wise option might be to get this over quickly and send them on their way. ‘I’m always in the audience on first nights.’
    Constable Reed continued making notes, her hand moving at prodigious speed.
    ‘You don’t have to write all this down.’
    ‘You’re a witness,’ she said. ‘You just confirmed it, sir.’
    ‘But nothing of a criminal nature took place.’
    Sergeant Dawkins said as if Shearman had just sprung the trap, ‘Who mentioned crime? Not one of us. A crime is an offence.’
    Constable Reed seemed to be putting every word in her notebook.
    Shearman made a huge effort to be reasonable. ‘Look, everyone here is extremely concerned about what happened and I’m going to carry out a rigorous enquiry.’
    ‘So are we,’ Dawkins said. ‘Rigorous and vigorous. And so are the press by the looks of it. Have you seen all the news-hounds downstairs?’
    ‘That means nothing. It’s a matter of public interest when a celebrity of Miss Calhoun’s stature is unable to go on. Nobody’s broken the law.’
    ‘We don’t know that, do we – or do we?’ the sergeant said, his eyebrows arching. ‘She’s in hospital with burns.’
    ‘You don’t have to tell me,’ Shearman said. ‘I drove her to A & E myself. In the theatre we’re a family. We look after our own, and, believe me, we’re taking this seriously, but I want to spare Clarion the added distress of a police investigation. Surely you understand that?’
    Constable Reed looked up from her notes. ‘You’re speaking rather fast. Would you mind repeating the bit after “taking this seriously”?’
    Unable to contain his annoyance any longer, Shearman said, ‘There’s nothing worth writing down. All of this is pointless. Please leave by the side door rather than the front, where the press are.’
    ‘Not before we’ve finished,’ Dawkins said. ‘If this ever comes to court, we’ll all be obliged to PC Reed for taking notes.’
    The reminder of the process of law subdued Shearman again. ‘What else do you need to know?’
    ‘When were you first aware that Miss Calhoun was in trouble?’
    ‘That’s self-evident. When she missed her line and started screaming.’
    ‘Did you see her before the show?’
    ‘Personally, no. I was meeting some VIPs. Others who saw her said she was in good spirits.’
    ‘Spirits may have been her undoing.’
    ‘Just what are you hinting at?’
    ‘Spirits of this or spirits of that. You never know what chemicals they use in the cosmetics industry. Did she do her own make-up?’
    ‘No. She’s not experienced in the theatre, so we provided a dresser for her, and that’s who looked after her.’
    ‘The make-up?’
    ‘Yes.’
    ‘A dresser dresses,’ Dawkins said. ‘I know about dressers. Constable Reed thinks a dresser is an item of furniture for displaying crockery, but this isn’t my first time in a theatre and I know dressers don’t do make-up.’
    ‘You’d better revise your ideas,’ Shearman said. ‘This dresser was specially asked to assist Clarion.’
    ‘With her make-up? When was it applied?’
    ‘Some time before curtain up. I wasn’t there.’
    ‘Have you spoken to this dresser?’
    ‘Yes, I have.’
    ‘I expect she has a name.’
    ‘I’d rather not say. I don’t attach blame to anyone.’
    ‘Blame?’ Dawkins picked up on the word as if Shearman had condemned himself. ‘Are we starting to play the blame game?’
    ‘I said I’m not blaming anyone.’
    ‘All the same, we need the name.’
    He told a white lie. ‘It escapes me.’
    Dawkins wasn’t willing to let