Mint Crisp & Murder Page 2

  As soon as they walked inside, they were greeted by a young man with blond hair and glasses.

  “Thank goodness you’ve come,” he said, joining them in the aisles.

  It took Heather a moment to realize that it was Digby in costume. He sensed the confusion and took off his glasses.

  “I didn’t recognize you as a blonde,” Amy said.

  “I did tell you it was a dress rehearsal,” he said. “We’re using all our costumes and props.”

  “But what’s the matter?” Heather asked. “Why did you need us to come?”

  “Who’s there?” a woman called out. “Digby, who’s there?”

  “It’s my boss,” Digby answered.

  The woman was hurrying over to them. She was dressed all in black and looked ruffled. She wore glasses bigger than Digby’s costume ones, which magnified her eyes that were already wide with alarm.

  “What’s she doing here?” she asked Digby, before turning to Heather. “What are you doing here?”

  Heather opened her mouth to speak, not quite sure what should come out of it. Digby intercepted the question and stepped in between them.

  “This is my boss from the donut shop. Remember? I told you about her before, Poppy. She made those amazing Mint Crisp Donuts.”

  “Sure,” Poppy said. “But why—“

  “Because she called me to see if we needed any more donuts, reasonably thinking that we might have eaten all the ones I brought. Actors do get hungry when they are part of the grueling rehearsal process. And she was very kind to check in and see if we needed more.”

  “But why didn’t you tell her not to come?” Poppy said.

  “I tried,” Digby said. “But Norma was interrupting my call, and I didn’t get a chance. I got disconnected, and she is just so conscientious that she decided to check on us in person. Isn’t she great?”

  “She is great,” Amy added.

  Heather noted that Digby was indeed a good actor. He had convinced Poppy that Heather had made the call instead of him and that he did not want her to arrive when really that was what he had asked for. What was going on at this theater?

  “That is so kind of you,” Poppy said, her smile wider than necessary. “But we are all set with donuts. We don’t need anymore. Eating too many before a show or rehearsal isn’t good for their stomachs.”

  “Poppy is always looking out for us,” Digby said. “She’s the stage manager.”

  Heather noticed how Digby subtly directed his head towards the stage when he said the word. The stage’s curtain was closed, so Heather couldn’t see what was happening behind the red fabric. However, she had a suspicion that behind it was what Digby had called her about.

  “I am the stage manager,” Poppy said. “And one of my responsibilities is to make sure that we stick to the schedule. We need to get back to rehearsal. I’m going to have to insist you leave.”

  Poppy tried to usher Heather and Amy towards the door, but Heather sidestepped her. She started walking towards the stage.

  “You know, I’ve always been intrigued by the theater,” Heather said, coming up with an excuse for approaching it. “Is this the stage you’re going to be performing on, Digby?”

  “Of course it is,” Poppy said. “But we’re setting the stage for the next scene.”

  “How exciting!” Heather said as she ran up the steps to the stage.

  “You can’t go up there,” Poppy cried.

  Heather ignored her and ran to the center of the stage where the curtains could be separated. Amy was at her heels.

  “Is this the time to make a Wizard of Oz reference about ignoring the man behind the curtain?” Amy asked.

  “No time,” said Heather.

  She saw Digby was trying to stop Poppy from following them. She pulled back the curtain and gasped at what she saw.

  There were four people on stage, rolling a body up in a rug. They froze when they saw her.

  Heather walked through the curtains and onto the stage to get closer to them. Amy was at her side, and Poppy and Digby were close behind.

  “It’s not what it looks like,” an actor said.

  “It looks like you’re rehearsing a murder mystery play,” Amy said.

  “Then, it is exactly what it looks like,” said the actor.

  Heather looked at the angle of the man in the rug’s feet. This wasn’t an actor rehearsing a role.

  “That’s not what it is,” Heather said. “That man is dead.”

  “Dead?” Amy asked. She swallowed a scream and took a deep breath. “I didn’t actually scream. Take note. I’m still maintaining my New Year’s Resolution not to scream at crime scenes.”

  “Crime scenes?” a man with an artistic scarf asked, approaching them. “This isn’t a crime scene.”

  “Oh really?” said Heather. “Because it looks like you have a dead body on your hands and nobody decided to notify the police.”

  “We did,” an actress offered.

  “No,” Heather said. “Because I’m married to a detective on the force and he hasn’t heard anything about this, but he will now. I can guarantee that.”

  The Detectives Arrive

  Heather stood on the stage with the body, keeping an eye on the cast and crew who were now sitting solemnly in the seats in the audience. She had learned that these conspirators included the director, the stage manager, two actresses and two actors (one being Digby.) The dead man was an actor named Willie Sales.

  The cast was maintaining that Willie had not been murdered, but based on their suspicious behavior, Heather wasn’t inclined to believe them.

  Amy paced the aisles. Mostly the theater people were quiet as they waited for the police to arrive. However, there were a few exceptions. A young actress with bright red lipstick was sobbing, and a middle-aged actress with curly hair was muttering how this was all Digby’s fault for bringing in donuts.

  Heather let out a sigh of relief when Ryan and Detective Peters walked in. She hurried over to meet him, and Amy joined them.

  Ryan greeted her and then asked, “This is a murder case?”

  “A maybe murder case,” Heather said. “We haven’t unwrapped the victim from where the other actors rolled him up.”

  “That a roll I don’t think any actor would want to play,” Amy added.

  “We don’t know how he died,” Heather admitted. “But we know his name was Willie Sales, and he was an actor. The cast trying to dispose of the body makes it all suspicious.”

  “I’ll say,” Detective Peters agreed.

  He was a young detective who was eager to prove himself but wasn’t always confident in his choices. He was a good partner for Ryan who had taken him under his wing.

  “The medical examiner is on his way,” Ryan said. “And he should be able to give us an indication of how he died. I suppose we should talk to these witnesses first.”

  “We’ll have to be careful with them,” Peters said. “If they’re actors they are probably pretty good at lying. I admire believability in an actor when I see it in a show or movie, but it’s just going to make our job harder now.”

  Amy nodded. “I would have thought that finding someone disposing of a body would have made our job easier, but not when there were five people doing it and acting so odd.”

  “Let’s get to work,” Ryan said.

  He led the way to the seats where the cast and crew were seated. As soon as he was in front of them, they all began talking at once. There was such much noise and confusion that the investigators could only pick out pieces of what was being said. The most consistent phrases that were repeated were “already dead,” “not our fault,” and “the show must go on.”

  Heather yelled “quiet,” and they all simmered down.

  “The detectives do want to hear everything that you have to say,” Heather began.

  “Because I’m sure it will be interesting,” Amy said.

  “But, you’re going to have to talk one at a time,” said Heather.

  “Look
, officers,” the man with the scarf said, rising. “This is all a big misunderstanding.”

  “And who are you?” Peters asked.

  “I’m Stanley Saymor, director of this little production.”

  Ryan had brought out his notebook and pencil. He stared intently at the director, ready to record his answer to the next question.

  “Mr. Saymor, how is this a misunderstanding?”

  “Well,” Stanley said, playing with his scarf. “I’m afraid this all looks like we had something to do with poor Willie’s death, but we didn’t.”

  “How did he die?” Ryan asked.

  “A heart attack,” Stanley said.

  The other cast members murmured amongst themselves in agreement. The young woman with red lipstick stopped crying long enough to nod in the assertion.

  “Then why were you hiding his body in the rug?” Heather challenged.

  The director sat back down in his seat, but eventually found the words he wanted. “It was Willie’s last request to remain a part of the set.”

  Unfortunately, Poppy spoke at the same time and said, “We didn’t know he was dead then. We were just trying to move him.”

  The director and stage manager exchanged angry looks.

  “Officer,” the curly-haired woman said. “I need to get home and get my beauty sleep. Can we leave now?”

  The door to the theater opened, and two uniformed officers that Ryan had called in for backup walked inside.

  “No,” Ryan said in response to the actress’s question. “Until this is sorted out, I’m afraid you’re all going to be held for obstruction of justice.”

  “This is absurd,” an actor yelled.

  “Can they do that?” asked the curly-haired actress.

  “I don’t know,” Poppy said. “I only know cops from stage plays. Not in real life.”

  The uniformed officers followed Ryan’s instructions to bring the actors to the station. Heather was about to tell them to leave Digby alone. Not only was she sure that her assistant wasn’t a killer, but he had been the only one to contact someone about the death. However, Digby gave her a look and shook his head.

  She bit her tongue and watched all the actors escorted from the theater.

  “But, what about the show?” Stanley cried as he was brought out.

  Peters climbed up on the stage and began to look around. There were so many props onstage and in the wings of the stage that it was hard to tell what was a clue. He looked at the body and then out at the audience where the other investigators were.

  “It’s weird being on stage,” Peters said. “Part of me wanted to become a famous actor when I was little. I guess everyone does. It’s weird to think that I am on stage now, but it’s because of a suspicious death.”

  Heather frowned. That wasn’t the only thing that was odd. This whole situation was strange.

  Digby’s Account

  So, boss,” Digby said with a slight grin on his face. “I might have to call out of my shift today.”

  Heather groaned at the levity. They were in the interrogation room at the police station, and she was not in a joking mood. She had gotten very little sleep the night before. She had stayed late with Ryan and Detective Peters as they searched the scene, trying to determine what had been moved when the cast decided to clean up after the death. She had finally left to relieve Eva and Leila of their babysitting duties after the medical examiner arrived. He said that the dead man did show signs of having a heart attack, but that there were some tests that he wanted to run when he conducted the autopsy.

  Still, Heather considered, her night might have been better than one spent in jail. That was where Digby had spent the night, along with the rest of his cast.

  However, he didn’t seem in low spirits. In fact, he seemed chipper.

  “I already spoke to Nina,” Heather said. “She said she would cover your shift today. She felt a little conflicted when I called her. Because she had gone to law school before she became a baker, she wanted to remind you not to say anything without a lawyer. Then, remembering that I was the one questioning you, she wasn’t sure whether that should be passed along or not.”

  “Nina is a sweet girl,” Digby said. “Even if she is dating the nephew of our terribly grouchy neighbor.”

  “Digby,” Heather said. “What’s going on?”

  Digby looked at the faces on the other side of the table from him. Ryan and Detective Peters looked ready to get down to business. Amy looked amused by the situation, and Heather looked worried.

  “First,” Digby said. “I want to thank you for letting me spend the night in jail.”

  “I bet that’s not something you’re thanked for often,” Amy quipped.

  “I mean, it’s not something that I would like to do often,” Digby said. “But, in a way, it was exciting. It might be an experience I can draw from for my acting someday. And more importantly, it meant that my cast didn’t get mad at me. Can you imagine if they were all in jail and I wasn’t?”

  “I feel like this conversation isn’t leading anywhere and we should throw him back in jail,” Amy said.

  “What I mean is that now they don’t really know that I was the one to call the cops,” said Digby. “Or the almost-cops. My P.I. boss.”

  “Why don’t you want them to know?” Heather asked.

  “Because we still need to work together to have our show,” Digby said. “I don’t want them to think I’m a rat when they were trying to make a pact. But I knew that they were doing was stupid. It would only lead to more trouble.”

  “What exactly were they trying to do?” Ryan asked.

  Digby sighed, realizing that he would have to start from the beginning. “Rehearsal started out normally enough. The show was running well. It was only at the end that things went a little off. Willie forgot his last line, but overall, it seemed good. Of course, now I realize that he forgot his line because he was sick. After the show, we practiced our curtain call.”

  “What’s that again?” asked Amy.

  “When we bow at the end of the show, and the audience would applaud. We practiced the order that we would come out in and then bowed. But right when we were bowing, Willie fell down. It was really quick. But the time, we realized what was happened, he was already dead.”

  “It looked like a heart attack?” Ryan asked.

  “It seemed like he just fell over,” Digby said. “It had to be something internal. A heart attack makes sense.”

  “But why were you trying to hide his body?” Peters asked.

  Digby sighed. “I knew it was stupid. And I knew everyone would regret it. That’s why I called. Everyone was concerned about the show. They thought that if it was known that he died at the theater that the show would get canceled. They wanted to move his body to his house and make it look like he had the heart attack there.”

  “Sure,” Amy said. “Just transporting a dead body. No big deal.”

  “They kept saying the show must go on and that we had to do what we could.”

  “Was there anyone in particular who was championing moving the body?” Ryan asked.

  Digby thought about it. “I guess the director, Stanley, was the one who suggested it. He really wanted to make sure that the show didn’t get canceled.”

  “But everyone else went along with the plan?” asked Peters.

  Digby nodded. “Eve was crying a lot but agreed. The other actors, Norma and Pat, went along with the plan. The stage manager Poppy was the one who found the rug. That’s when I knew it was getting serious.”

  “It made what appears to have been a medical condition appear much more serious,” Ryan said.

  “Oh no,” Digby said, suddenly going pale.

  “What’s wrong?” Heather asked, rising.

  “I just realized,” Digby said, morosely. “I’m the understudy. I’m going to have to make sure that I know all of Willie’s lines and that I’m ready to go on opening night. That’s only a few days away!”

  “If the show
is going on,” Heather said, solemnly.

  “What do you mean?” Digby asked.

  “We mean that all these shenanigans have resulted in this death seeming suspicious and we need to investigate it as a potential crime,” said Ryan.

  Digby exhaled. “Well, their plan certainly backfired then, didn’t it? And I really hope that they don’t find out it was me who called.”

  “Are you sure that no one did anything to hurt him?” Heather asked.

  “Nobody touched him,” Digby said. “I feel bad about what happened to Willie, but I think he was sick. The cast made a stupid mistake, but they didn’t kill him. It wasn’t a murder.”

  Heather pursed her lips. She wasn’t so sure about that. The whole situation felt fishy to her. She thought there was a very good chance that a murder had occurred on stage.

  The Director

  The next person they saw in the interrogation room wasn’t as happy to be there. Stanley Saymor looked tired and miserable.

  “Jail cells are so depressing,” he said. “There’s not even any art to brighten the mood or lift the spirits.”

  “Imagine that,” Amy said.

  “Well,” Ryan said as he took his seat with the three other investigators. “I hope you learned your lesson about tampering with evidence and influencing potential crime scenes.”

  “I’ll certainly never do it again,” Stanley said. “Not that I ever think a situation like this will arise again. How often do actors drop like flies onstage?”

  “We’re going to release everyone from the theater,” Ryan explained. “But everyone is asked not to leave town. We are still investigating Willie Sales’s death.”

  “Of course,” Stanley said. “I understand perfectly. Willie deserves that. And no one is planning to leave town. We have a show going up. We have a dress rehearsal tonight at the theater.”

  The investigators exchanged a look. The other day, Heather had been excited to see Digby’s play. Now she felt like all the drama surrounding the drama was giving her a headache.

  “Where are you planning on having this rehearsal?” Heather asked.