Murder Most Wilde (A Right Royal Cozy Investigation Mystery): An amateur sleuth whodunnit with a hint of humour by Helen Golden

Author:Helen Golden [Golden, Helen]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Drew Bradley Press
Published: 2025-06-29T00:00:00+00:00

24

MEANWHILE, BACK WITH PERRY, SUNDAY 3 OCTOBER

Perry and Ralph slipped through the unlocked stage door, into the dimly-lit backstage area of Windstanton Theatre Royal. The heavy door swung shut behind them with a soft click.

“Unlocked,” Ralph whispered dramatically. “Ominous.”

Perry rolled his eyes. “Of course it’s unlocked. Colin will be here setting up.”

“You say that,” Ralph muttered, peering into the gloomy corridor, “but I swear all theatres are haunted. It’s a rule. All those old actors who never quite got the standing ovation they wanted…” Glancing around, he continued, “This place gives me the creeps when it’s empty.”

Perry shot him a look. “You’re an actor, Rafe. You should be used to dark theatres.”

“Yes, well, usually there’s an audience and a bar.”

A faint thump echoed from somewhere above. Both of them froze.

Then there was a shuffle.

Ralph grabbed Perry’s arm. “What’s that?”

Perry rolled his eyes, questioning his decision to bring the older actor. “It’s most likely Colin. You know, because he is the lighting guy?”

“Yeah,” Ralph whispered back. “But what if it’s not?” He raised his other hand to his throat and muttered, “It feels a bit murdery in here.”

They had instinctively lowered their voices. This is ridiculous! They were whispering like children sneaking into the neighbours’ back garden to steal apples. “What are we doing?” Perry muttered. “Are we whispering because they can’t see us if we’re quiet?”

“Shut up,” Ralph whispered back, gesturing for Perry to follow.

They moved carefully past racks of costumes and stacked scenery flats. As they neared the stage, the theatre’s houselights were on, casting long shadows across the floor. The vast auditorium stretched out before them as they crept forward, stepping cautiously onto the stage.

Another noise. A rustle near the footlights.

Ralph gasped. “I tell you—it’s a ghost,” he said, stopping.

“Don’t be silly; it’s just Colin,” Perry said as he turned. “See.”

A figure stood at the edge of the light on the other side of the stage.

“Perry, Rafe,” Colin called out. “How are you⁠—”

There was a creak above them. Perry looked up. The lighting rig! A tremor ran through his chest. The enormous metal frame above them swayed dangerously. Something’s wrong. The rig wasn’t supposed to move—not like that.

“Colin, get out of the way!” Perry cried, grabbing Ralph’s velvet jacket and dragging him backwards.

Ralph yelped as they stumbled right as the rig came crashing down with an ear-splitting bang. It smashed onto the stage where Colin had been standing. The impact sent dust and splintered wood flying into the air.

For a moment, nothing moved.

Then Ralph coughed violently, waving dust from his face. Perry forced himself to breathe through the adrenaline surge.

“Colin!” Perry cried, rushing towards the body. He dropped to his knees.

The assistant stage manager lay spreadeagled on the stage floor, his body twisted, one arm outstretched as if he’d tried to grab at something in the darkness.

Ralph let out a strangled noise as he joined Perry. “Oh my god—is he dead?”

Perry’s hands hovered uncertainly over Colin’s shoulder. He leaned in, watching for the rise and fall of his chest.

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