The woman playing Hippolyta found the guy playing Theseus and they began to flirt. Good. Things were settling. Now I could think.

  Liam was standing looking at Scarlett and Polly when I came up beside him. “Thanks for the help.”

  “Anytime.”

  “Liam, when you saw Charlie climb over the wall last night, what time was it?”

  “Exactly?”

  “Yes.”

  He screwed up his face, remembering. “Well, I was at the pub for last call, that’s eleven. I was chatting to a girl, and we talked for a bit outside, so probably I was back at the college a bit before midnight. I saw Charlie climb over the wall to get in about five past twelve, I suppose. And then I went up to my room. I looked out my window, I suppose I was a bit worried about what he was up to. He climbed back over the wall only a few minutes later. About quarter past twelve.”

  “Thanks.”

  “I don’t want to chuck him in it. He seems a nice guy. But so was Jeremy.”

  “You’re doing the right thing. Tell me, how do you get in when it’s late?” I’d always arrived when the Porter’s Lodge was open, but I didn’t think they sat there all night letting students come and go.

  “There’s a key pad set into the gate. They like us to be in before eleven, but it’s not like the old days, when there was a curfew.”

  “So, students can get in, but presumably no one else would have the code?”

  “That’s right. And there are cameras, of course, recording who comes and goes. Plus, we have security guards on premises at night.”

  Ellen was making her way to the stage, where a microphone had been set up. I said to Liam, “I need you to do something for me. Stand at the entrance to the rehearsal hall and don’t let anyone leave.”

  His green eyes narrowed on my face. “Happy to do it, but why?”

  “I have an idea that might shake some clues loose.”

  His eyebrows rose. “Do you know who killed Jeremy?”

  “I’m almost certain I do. I’m hoping to provoke a confession.”

  He looked skeptical. “You think the killer’s going to confess?”

  “No. Someone else is.”

  His skepticism turned to concern. “You watch yourself. This killer isn’t afraid to bash people’s heads in.” He glanced significantly at Jeremy’s photo behind my head.

  “I know. I’ll be careful.”

  “Blessed be,” he said softly, before heading for the door.

  Rafe came over to my side. “Nicely done. The effects of the love potion are no more and the scales have fallen from the eyes of the love-blind.”

  “I know,” I said, still feeling pleased with myself.

  “Perhaps you’ll have more faith in your own skills in the future.”

  “Perhaps, I will.”

  He looked at me, amusement mixed with wariness in the depth of his ice blue eyes. “You’re pleased about more than your spell reversal. You’re plotting something.”

  “Yes. And I need your help.”

  “Naturally.”

  I shook my head at him. “Any man with a modicum of charm and address will do, so if you’re going to be sarcastic, I’ll find another helper.”

  “I’m yours to command.”

  “I need you to keep Miles within your sight, and preferably your reach.”

  His brows rose, but he nodded in agreement. “And while I’m doing that, what will you be doing?”

  “Nothing dangerous. I’ll be giving a little tribute to Jeremy. That’s all.”

  “Don’t do anything foolish.”

  “If I do, you’ll be here to protect me.”

  I said it flippantly, but he answered seriously. “Always.”

  Chapter 22

  Two stage hands came over and asked us to move out of the way so they could take Jeremy’s picture up onto the stage.

  Knowing I didn’t have much time, I went over to Charlie, who was standing hand-in-hand with Alice and asked him about his late night visit to Cardinal College the night before. I was relieved that his answer tallied with my guess.

  Once the stagehands had placed Jeremy’s photograph on its easel up on stage, and taken the candles up as well, obviously thinking they were part of the memorial, Ellen walked up and stood in front of the microphone.

  It was exactly like the first day we’d all met here. Even Alex Blumstein was at the back of the room as she had been on the first day, looking like a bouncer. Liam stood beside her. He seemed to be making small talk, though I could see he was doing all the talking. Bless him.

  Rafe had found Miles, who was standing, alone, and leaning a shoulder against the wall. His eyes were swollen and he looked as though he’d met Tragedy for the first time in his life and she’d kicked his butt.

  Alex Blumstein dimmed the lights, so Ellen was spotlighted on the stage, and so was Jeremy’s photograph. She began speaking in her beautiful voice. “Thank you all for coming.” She paused, looked over at Jeremy’s photo and shook her head. “I would give anything not to be here at this moment on this tragic day.”

  She pressed her lips together as though fighting for control. When she spoke again, I could hear the suppressed tears.

  “Jeremy Booth was a fine actor, as so many of you know. But he was more than that. He was a friend, an excellent student and a fine rower, having been on the men’s eight that won a gold medal this year at the World University Rowing Championships in China.”

  There was a smattering of applause.

  “I first met Jeremy when he auditioned for me nearly a year ago.” She smiled as though the memory were bittersweet. "Jeremy chose a scene from Hamlet. It was an audacious choice and showed a self-confidence and assurance that appealed to me in one so young. His confidence inspired others, too. He was always willing to work hard, to help others become better and, added to all that he had an extremely good sense of humor. As we all know, he loved a good laugh."

  There were murmurs of agreement.

  "As the shock of this tragedy begins to sink in, I wanted us to meet here together on this very sad day. Later, there will be a funeral, memorials and celebrations of his life. But here, this evening, I wanted us—his theater family—to gather together, not only to remember Jeremy, but to remember also that we always have each other. I will do anything to make sure that we can stay together."

  Her gaze had been roving over the audience but at the last words she glanced over at Miles. In that moment he looked so murderous that a chill went down my spine.

  "I know everyone here has memories of Jeremy, no doubt a funny story or two. I invite anyone who is so moved to come up here and share a little about their Jeremy Booth." She put out a hand in general invitation and then stepped back, out of the limelight.

  She needn't have worried that there'd be no takers. In a room full of budding actors there was very soon a line of people who wanted to say a few words. Scarlett among them. I was surprised that she wanted to go up there, having made the grisly discovery, but perhaps talking about him would help her process the shock.

  Before the line grew too long I eased forward and took my place behind Daffyd.

  The first speaker had been to prep school with Jeremy and told an amusing story about a prank the two of them had played, when Jeremy had pretended to be the nurse coming into the dorm to dose them all for lice. “He was always a good mimic. We laughed for weeks after.” He looked at the grinning man in the photo. “I’ll miss you, mate.”

  Then Scarlett took her turn. She looked out over the group and took a dramatic pause, something she’d no doubt learned from Ellen Barrymore. "I was to play Hermia. In the play, Hermia loves Lysander, played by Miles Thompson over there. For some reason, Demetrius also falls in love with her. Demetrius, of course, would have been played by Jeremy. In the play, Hermia never once has soft feelings for Demetrius. You can tell, he's just getting on her nerves, always after her, telling her how beautiful she is and how much he loves her. But, real life is not really like a play, is it?"

  She looked out on the audience and from where I stood, looking up, I could see her eyes glistening with tears. She blinked them away. "I did love Jeremy Booth. I loved his playfulness and the way he could always make me laugh, even on a bad day. I loved how clever he was and how much he tried to hide it from the rest of us. When he put his mind to something he was fiercely determined. Anyone who ever watched him during a rowing regatta knows exactly what I mean.”

  There were murmurs of appreciation, a couple of whistles, and some clapping.

  "Great things were going to happen for Jeremy. And the wonderful thing about him was, he knew it. He had so much confidence—he believed he would do whatever he set his mind to. I'm always so insecure and worried about screwing it all up and getting things wrong, but he just went straight forward and didn't let anything get in this way. If I can learn anything from Jeremy, it's to live my life with that kind of focus. And so, Jeremy—" here she turned to gaze at his photograph and that eternally grinning face, "—please know that when I gave you the cold shoulder in the play, I was only pretending. I really did love you." Her voice became suspended with tears. "I don't know when we'll meet again, but until we do, the stage will be an emptier place without you."

  Several people wiped their eyes, and I could hear a few noses blowing, as Daffyd got up. He told a story about how he'd been put in an improvisation scene with Jeremy. “It was an interrogation scene. I was a prisoner and he was interrogating me. I had to remain completely serious. He started asking me name, rank, and serial number, and then he started asking about marmalade. Like, did I know where marmalade came from?”

  Daffyd had a naturally comic way about him, so when he looked out at the audience, and rolled his eyes, everyone laughed.

  “He’d bark out these questions in this angry voice and the whole scene was about marmalade. Where was I hiding the marmalades?” He laughed then, in memory. “The more I tried to play it straight, the crazier his questions got. He asked, ‘What about the thick bits? Was there a secret factory where they made the thick pieces?’” He shook his head. “I learned as much in that scene about comedy as I probably learned in any class.” He turned here and looked back, “No offense, Ellen.”

  He ended with a short prayer in Welsh. As the beautiful words rolled over us, I didn't think there was a dry eye in the room.

  It was my turn next.

  My shoes made clomping noises that seemed to echo. Ellen was standing just out of the circle of light and she nodded at me when I took my place. I looked out over the room, making certain that Liam was in place, which he was, and that Rafe was standing very near to Miles, which he also was.

  Everyone was looking at me, waiting.

  "I didn't know Jeremy Booth very well. In fact, I only met him a few days ago, at the beginning of rehearsals. However, after hearing the previous tributes and from my own experience I know that Jeremy Booth was full of talent and would've gone places if he hadn't been murdered here, today."

  I felt a shudder of horror go through the room. Even though everyone knew he’d been murdered, it was still a shock to hear the word. "We cannot bring him back, though I wish we could. But we can, together, help solve his murder and make sure the culprit is punished."

  From the corner of my eye I saw Ellen walking towards me looking stern. "Thank you very much," she said in that clear voice that would carry to the back of the stalls. "We’ll let the police do that job."

  She intended to take back control of the microphone, but I had anticipated that and grabbed the mic off the stand. I turned my back to her so she would have to physically wrench the microphone away from me if she wanted it back.

  I said, "I know who killed Jeremy."

  I let the gasps of shock and horror bubble through the crowd. "And I can prove it, with your help."

  "Lucy!” Ellen Barrymore demanded. “Stop this. Someone, help me."

  We must have looked like we were acting out a crazy improv scene from down on the floor. She was reaching around me and trying to grab the mic, and I was pushing her off. Then she ran around in front of me and I turned my back on her. She looked to the back where Alex Blumstein stood. "Alex! Cut the power to the mic."

  But Liam was still standing beside Alex and he called from the very back. "I want to hear what Lucy has to say. Who else does?"

  A lot of people yelled out that they wanted me to continue.

  Ellen was red in the face and vibrating with fury. "I will not have this. You’re interfering in a police investigation."

  I looked out. It was difficult to make out individual faces so I called, "Detective Inspector Ian Chisholm? Do I have your permission to continue?"

  I wasn't sure whether he’d let me, since my sleuthing, like my dramatic ability, was amateur at best, but he replied, in his clear, commanding tone, "I'd also like to hear what Lucy has to say."

  "Well I wouldn’t," Ellen shouted. "This is meant to be a dignified sendoff for a beloved member of our cast. I will not see it turned into an amateur farce." She stomped off the stage and down the stairs and headed for the exit.

  Liam stepped quietly into the middle of the doorway and I said into the microphone, "Please, don't leave, Ms. Barrymore. There are some questions that only you can answer."

  She turned back towards me and threw up her hands. "This is intolerable. I will not stay while some knitting shop owner with delusions that she's Miss Marple makes a fool of all of us."

  Ian obviously had no idea what I was doing, but he knew I wouldn't put on this public performance without a reason. My problem was, I had no proof, only a theory that I knew to the tips of my tingling fingers was right. I had to provoke the right people to the right actions.

  Ian strode across the rehearsal hall to intercept Ellen Barrymore. He said, loud enough that most of us could hear him, "Please stay."

  She drew herself up to her full height. "Is that an order?"

  "If you want to phrase it like that, yes."

  "I will be calling my lawyer."

  "Of course. As soon as we’re finished here, you can call anyone you like."

  With a sound of fury, she turned and crossed her hands in front of her breasts and glared at me.

  I felt the intense gazes of everyone in the room on me and hoped, quite fervently, not only that I was correct, but that I didn't mess up the investigation. I looked at Liam and he nodded, reassuringly. I glanced at Rafe and for once that tickle of coolness was like a refreshing shower over my overheated skin. I drew in a deep breath and centered myself. I had to be very careful to lay facts out in the correct order.

  It was like building a house of cards. If I fumbled, the whole thing would come crashing down and instead of solving a murder I'd be playing Fifty-Two Pick Up with my reputation.

  I took a breath and spoke once more into the mic. "A Midsummer Night's Dream was an excellent choice for these young actors. It's about the way we manipulate people in the name of love, when sometimes what we really crave is power.”

  I let that sink in for a moment. “I'm neither a scholar nor an actor but I've been listening to the conversations around this play. It opens with Theseus and Hippolyta about to be married. But Hippolyta’s a captive and a slave. She seems to be resigned to her fate but make no mistake, this woman has no choice.” I cringed inside as I heard myself, with my junior college English, lecturing some of the brightest scholars in the world and people who knew Shakespeare a lot better than I did. No one was laughing, though, so I continued.

  “Then there are the young lovers. Hermia, played by Scarlett Baker, Lysander, played by Miles Thompson, Helena played by Polly Johnson and Demetrius, played by Jeremy Booth. They are also manipulated and not always acting with free will. Even poor Bottom the Weaver is turned into a donkey for sport and then, in another romantic manipulation, the king of the fairies causes the queen of the fairies to fall in love with that donkey, again using his power to manipulate."

  I was starting to sound like SparkNotes. I needed to move this along. "Ellen Barrymore has a policy, that all of you know, and that I've heard about from several sources. She doesn't allow her actors to date each other during production. She says it clouds and complicates both their acting and the production itself. But, as in A Midsummer Night’s Dream, actors continued to fall for each other. They just did it in secret. Rather like Hermia and Lysander in the play. Hermia's father wanted her to marry Demetrius and threatened her with death if she continued her relationship with Lysander. You see, when we manipulate people, death sometimes results."

  Someone from the floor called up, "That's all very interesting, but we all know that Charlie from the bookshop got into it with Jeremy last night. They beat each other up over some girl and then Jeremy got killed. And Charlie was with the police all day. Sounds to me like that case has already been solved."

  "Except that Charlie didn't kill Jeremy."

  “No, I didn’t,” Charlie agreed from somewhere in the back.

  My heckler silenced, I continued. "Liam. You told me, and then you told the police that you had seen Charlie climbing over the wall. What time was that?"

  Since he and I had already talked this through his answer was ready. "I saw him come over the wall about midnight. He went back over about a quarter of an hour later."

  "But that wasn't Charlie you saw coming back over the wall. You thought it was, because you’d see him come in. But it was Miles." I looked back at Charlie and Alice. “You see, Charlie went out by the gate. You don’t need a security code to leave the college at night, only to get in. Charlie was already feeling a bit sore from his fight, so he walked out of the college the easiest way he could.”

  Miles had been propping up the side wall with his shoulder, but from the moment I'd said I knew who the killer was, he'd gone rigid. I could feel his eyes burning holes through me even from that far away. Now he straightened and turned to face me, but he didn't say anything.

  “One of the secret relationships in the real life drama was that between Miles Thompson and Sofia Bazzano. Except that it wasn't as secret as Miles had hoped. Several people mentioned to me that they had thought there was something going on there.”