Death Takes a Bow by David S. Pederson

Author:David S. Pederson [Pederson, David S.]
Language: eng
Format: epub
ISBN: 9781635554731
Publisher: Bold Strokes Books
Published: 2019-06-19T16:00:00+00:00

Chapter Seven

Late Saturday evening, July 12, 1947

The first uniforms arrived, and I directed them to the stage door, front entrance, and emergency exits, with instructions to keep the press out and make sure no one from the cast and crew left the building. I had the curtain raised, as the theater was empty except for a couple of young ushers standing in a corner, their red uniform coats unbuttoned as they talked to each other. Alan was just coming up one of the side stairs to the stage, still dressed in his English police uniform, which didn’t look much different than his actual one except for the bobby hat, the nightstick, and the absence of a gun.

“I got your aunt Verbina into a cab, but she wasn’t happy about it.”

“I imagine not. Thanks for doing that. I’ll call her tomorrow.”

“You certainly will. She was adamant about that. Someone named Mr. Finch said he’d share the cab with her.”

“Love comes to Lochwood,” I said.

“Huh? You’re not making much sense tonight.”

“Sorry, it’s nothing. Or maybe something, but I have other things to think about right now.”

“Right, so what’s happened?”

“The doctors definitely think Shelby’s death was suspicious, and I concur. I believe it wasn’t an accident.”

“Can’t say I’m surprised. Mama always told me not to speak ill of the dead, but he was not a nice man.”

“No, he wasn’t. Still, he was a man, a human. A small baby, a child, at one time. Somewhere deep within, I think he wanted people to like him. Why else would he be in the theater? Why else would he act? He loved the adoration, the applause, the fans. He couldn’t seem to garner that kind of attention in real life.”

“Because he was so nasty to everyone.”

I shrugged. “I’ve known others like him. They’re so afraid of being hurt, of being rejected, that they lash out first and push everyone away.”

“That’s quite sad.”

“Indeed. But in his case, his mean and spiteful ways may have got him murdered.”

“Golly, Heath, here we go again. What a night.”

My buddy Fletch, the county coroner, arrived then with his assistant. When he saw me, he gave a nod and approached.

“What have you got for me, Heath?”

“Hello, Fletch. Sorry to drag you out on a Saturday night.”

He sighed. “It’s all right. I was on call. At least I finished my dinner this time.”

“You remember Officer Keyes?” I motioned in Alan’s direction.

Fletch nodded. “Right. Right. Always by your side.”

“Good to see you, Mr. Fletcher,” Alan said.

“Sure, sure, likewise. So, what’s going on?”

I pointed in the direction of the body, still lying on the floor of the stage. His face, twisted into an agonized expression, vomit still on the lips, was thankfully facing away from us. “Shelby Berkett, one of the actors, collapsed during his scene. The doctors think it wasn’t a natural death.”

“What doctors?” Fletch said.

“There happened to be a couple doctors in the audience. I took their names and numbers if you want to question them,” I said.

“Shouldn’t be necessary. I like to do my own investigating.

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