Death Masque by Dan Andriacco

Author:Dan Andriacco
Language: eng
Format: epub
Tags: sherlock holmes, mystery, crime, british crime, sherlock holmes fiction, sherlock holmes novel
ISBN: 9781787053144
Publisher: Andrews UK
Published: 2018-08-07T00:00:00+00:00

2 See Bookmarked for Murder (MX Publishing, 2015)

3 See Queen City Corpse (MX Publishing, 2017).

4 See “Art in the Blood” in Rogues Gallery (MX Publishing, 2014).

ACT TWO

16. Not Everybody Loves Opera

The Lyceum Theater, a Victorian-era brick building that had been an Odd Fellows Hall for more than a century and a half, was already surrounded by yellow crime scene tape when we arrived. We nodded at the young officer standing guard, blithely ignored the barrier, and went on in.

On the stage, which was decorated for the Mardi Gras party in the final scene of the opera, stood several familiar figures and others I didn’t recognize - the dozen or more non-performers, like the house manager and backstage assistant, that make an opera work.

Oscar was there, of course, with Lt. Col. L. Jack Gibbons in his party-goer costume as a supernumerary, along with Kate, Nadine Lattimore, assorted singers still dressed for their roles, and-

“Jordan Webster!” Mac exclaimed, just about the time my brain processed the identity of the figure in glasses and a blue turtleneck standing next to Nadine Lattimore. “By all that is holy, what has happened?”

In less than a minute we were up on the stage ourselves. Kate hugged Mac tightly, which is no easy task given his girth. If he were a lady, the opera wouldn’t be over until he sang.

“It seems the reports of your death are greatly exaggerated,” Mac told Webster. I made a mental note to complain to him later about the cliché.

“Sorry, Sebastian,” Kate said. “We just found out. I was too discombobulated to send you an update.”

“There was a mix-up,” the young impresario said. “I feel terrible that somebody died instead of me.”

“It’s not your fault,” Nadine assured him.

“Yes, it is.”

His primary patron’s widow patted Webster on the shoulder in a motherly way, although she was only a decade or so older. The Cody memory banks recalled her saying that she planned to catch the second act of Claudette that she’d missed on opening night. She was dressed for it casually in yellow slacks and a light pashmina in various subtle colors, probably with a designer label inside.

“Who was the victim?” Lynda asked.

Oscar jumped in, trying to maintain some semblance of control. “A teacher at Malcolm C. Cotton High named Aaron Schiff. He was a volunteer stage hand who took a turn today as an extra.” That’s supernumerary in opera lingo.

“I only knew him to nod to, but he seemed like a nice guy,” Kate said. It wasn’t much of a eulogy, but it was all she had. There was a respectful pause.

“When a costume designer found the body,” Oscar resumed, “he thought it was Mr. Webster here.”

We learned later that the unlucky fellow was Chase McAllister, a jeweler with a 20-year background of creating costumes for regional theater. Kate had worked backstage under his direction.

“Aaron was dressed in the Mardi Gras regalia I wore in all the other performances,” Webster said miserably. “He practically begged me during intermission to let him go on stage during the final scene.

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