Миранда Джеймс - File M For Murder

The chatter of returning students interrupted us before I could probe further. I looked out over the auditorium and spotted Connor Lawton ambling along behind the students.

Laura sighed and set her shoulders. She had seen him, too. As she moved away I heard her say in an undertone, “Once more unto the breach, dear friends, once more.”

TEN

“Come on, boy. We’ll be in the way here.” I patted Diesel’s head and led him across the stage past the proscenium arch to the stairs. As I settled into an end seat a few rows back, with Diesel getting comfortable in the aisle beside me, I tried to identify the source of Laura’s quotation. I’d heard or read it before, and after a minute or so, I had it. “ Henry V . Shakespeare, of course,” I muttered. Diesel meowed in response, as if he were acknowledging I was right.

Meanwhile the cast had reassembled center stage. With the area bare of any props, even chairs, the space the cast occupied appeared almost desertlike. I couldn’t imagine watching a play without some kind of set. This would be an interesting experience.

Connor Lawton stood downstage. From my vantage point his face was a placid mask, his stance relaxed. I hoped he could maintain this mood.

I heard voices behind me, and I turned to see Sarabeth Conley and Ralph Johnston taking seats halfway down the aisle on the other side of the auditorium.

Laura clapped her hands for silence, and I turned back to watch. When the last snatch of conversation died away, she said, “We’re going to try this again. Remember what we discussed in class about sight-reading. We haven’t had much time to work on that, but do your best.” She turned to Lawton. “Where would you like to start?”

“Beginning of the third scene.” Lawton crossed his arms across his chest. Pages rustled as the actors found their places. “We’ll start with Ferris.”

Dead silence followed. One of the students, an attractive brunette, nudged the tall, pudgy young man standing beside her. “That’s you, Toby,” she hissed.

“Um, right, old man Ferris, that’s me.” Toby was clearly rattled, and he stared like a mesmerized goldfish at Lawton.

“Take deep breaths, Toby,” Laura said in a firm, but kind, tone. “Center yourself, then start.”

I saw Lawton shake his head, but he didn’t speak. Toby nodded and I could see the change in his face and body language as he followed Laura’s instructions.

When he began to speak, I blinked in surprise. Out of his mouth came the quavery voice of an ill, elderly man.

“I tell you, Henrietta, I’m not shelling out any more of my hard-earned savings on that no-good daughter of yours.”

The pretty young woman next to Toby responded, her voice sounding surprisingly mature. “She’s your daughter too, Herb. Whether you want to admit it or not.”

Toby snorted. “Don’t see why as I should own up to begetting that shiftless piece of jailbait.” He paused to gasp for breath.

“See what happens when you get your dander up?” “Henrietta” shook her head dolefully. “Gives you spasms, and what’s the use of that?”

Toby gulped air again before he spoke. “That girl’s enough to give a healthy man spasms, much less me. I tell you I’m not giving her—or you—any more money.”

Another young woman, a chubby blonde, entered the conversation. “But Papa, we can’t put her in jail. All you have to do is pay back what she stole. Surely you don’t want to see your child behind bars?” She emitted a muffled sob. “You can’t do that to my baby sister.”

“Quit your caterwauling, Lisbeth.” Toby spoke sharply. “You’re so goldarned concerned about Sadie, you pay back the money.”

“Lisbeth” sobbed again. “I don’t have it. The rent’s way overdue, and it looks like Johnny might get laid off. Papa, please.”

“Reckon you’ll be begging for money next, because that no-good bastard you married can’t keep a job.” Toby coughed so hard his face turned red.

“Herb, calm down.” The note of panic in “Henrietta’s” voice sounded real to me.

Based on what I was hearing now, I’d have to say these young people were reading well, although I was not in the least impressed by Lawton’s “genius.” Was this reading significantly better than what Lawton heard earlier? If that was the case, then perhaps his temper tantrum had energized them somehow. I’d have to ask Laura about that.

What a shame, though, that what they were reading was so banal.

“Herb” told his wife to shut up in a crude manner. “Henrietta” uttered his name in shocked protest.

“I’m fixin’ to go lie down for a spell,” Toby said. He sounded exhausted, his patience at an end. “I don’t want to hear any more about Sadie’s problems. I’m done with her.” He mimed an old man, shuffling out of the room, leaning on a cane.

“Lisbeth” and “Henrietta” exchanged glances, waiting until the old man left the room. Toby stepped back, and the two young women moved closer together as they continued the scene.

“Mama, what are we gonna do?” Lisbeth practically sobbed the words out. “Sadie can’t go to jail, she just can’t.”

I thought the young woman was overdoing the histrionics, and evidently Connor Lawton agreed. He held up a hand. “Hold on a minute.” He pointed at “Lisbeth.” “What’s your name again, doll?”

The young woman blushed and swallowed. “Um, Elaine, Mr. Lawton.”

The playwright walked forward, and when he paused beside her, he stood at an angle that allowed me a clear view of his face. I caught a grimace, but then his expression smoothed out. He placed an arm across Elaine’s shoulder. “Elaine, you’re giving me too much. Dial it back a few notches, understand? All that weeping and wailing and gnashing of teeth this early on, you’ve got nothing left later on.”

He paused long enough for Elaine to nod twice before he went on. “Lisbeth, now, remember she’s thirty-two, married, no kids, and Sadie’s like her own child because Mom and Pop are so much older, right? Lisbeth is emotional and not totally wrapped when it comes to Sadie, but you can’t let it all go in this scene. Dial it back a little, like I said. Can you do that for me?”

Frankly I was surprised by Lawton’s patient tone and demeanor. It almost seemed like a different man had come back from the break.

Elaine gazed at the playwright like Diesel mesmerized by a bird outside the archive window. After a long moment of silence, she swallowed and said, “Yes, sir.”

Lawton patted her shoulder. “That’s great, doll.” He moved back downstage and faced the actors. “Right. Take it from where old man Ferris leaves. Hey, Tobe, excellent job by the way. You’ve almost nailed it.”

Toby blushed and beamed as “Lisbeth” and “Henrietta” prepared to start the scene again. If Lawton kept up “slobbering sugar” like this—what my aunt Dottie would have called it—they’d all adore him and soon forget the earlier tantrum.

“Lisbeth” repeated her lines in more restrained tones, and Lawton nodded.

“Henrietta” picked up from her fictional daughter’s lines. “I don’t see much hope. Your father’s made up his mind. You know how he is when he talks like that. Remember your wedding?” She sighed heavily. “Wasn’t nothing on earth going to make him pay for you a decent wedding once he took against Johnny.”

Could this possibly get any worse? I was no expert, but the average soap opera probably had better writing. But I soon discovered it could get worse.

“He’s a mean old bastard, and I hate him.” Elaine’s face twisted into an ugly mask. “I wish he’d up and die. Let him join the demons in Hell where he belongs.”