Witness in Death (In Death #10)(8)

"Yes, sir. Great dress," she added as she tucked her memo log away. "You're going to have to get the blood and sweeper gunk off the skirt before it sets in."

Eve looked down, scowled at the elegant black column. "Damn it. I hate not being dressed for the job." She turned, strode deeper backstage, where a uniform stood by a huge, locked cabinet.

"Key." She held out a hand while the uniform took out a key in an evidence bag. "Anybody try to get in this thing?"

"The prop master came back -- old guy, pretty shaky. But he didn't give me any hassle."

"Fine. Go out front and tell the sweepers they'll be cleared to run this area in about ten minutes."

"Yes, sir."

Alone, Eve unlocked the cabinet and pulled the double doors open. She frowned, noting the box of cigars, the old-fashioned telephone, and a few other items neatly arranged in an area marked Sir Wilfred's Office.

Another section held props that had been used in the bar scene. The courtroom section was empty. Apparently, the prop master was very careful about replacing and arranging his props, and did so directly after the scene where they were needed was wrapped.

Someone that meticulous wouldn't have mistaken a kitchen knife for a dummy.

"Lieutenant Dallas?"

Eve glanced back and saw the young brunette from the last act moving from the shadows of the wings into the lights of backstage. She'd changed from her costume and wore a simple black jumpsuit. Her hair had been combed out of its tight waves and fell straight and richly brown down the center of her back.

"I hope I'm not disturbing your work." She had the faintest accent, soft and southern, and an easy smile on her face as she walked closer. "I was hoping to have a word with you. Your aide told me I was free to go, for the moment."

"That's right." Eve cast her mind back over the program she'd scanned after the murder. "Miss Landsdowne."

"Carly Landsdowne, Diane in this tragic production." She shifted her large blue eyes to the cabinet. "I hope you don't think Pete had anything to do with what happened to Richard. Old Pete wouldn't hurt a fly if it was buzzing in his ear."

"Pete would be the property master?"

"Yes. And as harmless as they come. That can't be said for everyone in this little circus."

"Obviously. Is there something specific you want?"

"Only to say what I doubt most of the others will, at least initially. Everyone hated Richard."

"Including you?

"Oh, absolutely." She said it with a brilliant smile. "He'd step on your lines every chance he got, cut off your mark, anything that would draw the attention onto him and off anyone else. Offstage, he was a vicious little worm. His world revolved around one thing, his own ego."

She gave a delicate shrug. "You'll hear it from someone eventually, so I thought it would be best if you heard it from me. We were lovers for a brief period. It ended a couple of weeks ago, in a nasty little scene. Richard was fond of nasty little scenes and staged this one for the biggest impact. During our first full dress rehearsal."

"I take it he broke things off."

"He did." She said it carelessly, but the gleam in those green eyes told Eve the resentment still simmered. "He went out of his way to charm me, and once I was charmed, he went out of his way to humiliate me in front of the cast and crew. This was my first Broadway production."

She glanced around, and though her lips were curved, the smile was sharp as broken glass. "I was green, Lieutenant, but I ripen fast. I won't bother to say I'm sorry he's dead, but I will say I don't think he was worth killing."

"Were you in love with him?"

"I don't have room for love at this point in my career, but I was... dazzled. Much, I think as my character was dazzled by Leonard Vole. I doubt there's anyone involved in this production who didn't have some grudge against Richard. I wanted to be up front about mine."

"I appreciate that. You said he humiliated you. In what way?"

"In his last scene, the one where I come down with him into the courtroom and he confronts Christine, he broke off my lines to her, stormed around the stage, claiming my delivery was flat."

Her lips compressed, her eyes slitted. "He compared its lack of passion and style to my performance in bed. He called me a brainless rube who was trying to trade her lack of talent on mildly attractive looks and a good pair of br**sts."

Carly brushed back her hair, a lazy gesture in direct contrast with the bright fury in her eyes. "He said I was boring, and while I'd amused him for a while, if I couldn't pretend to act in my minor capacity, he'd see I was replaced with someone who could."

"And this came as a complete surprise to you?"

"He was a snake. Snakes strike quickly, because they're cowards. I gave back a few shots, but they weren't my best. I wasn't prepared, and I was embarrassed. Richard stalked offstage, locked himself in his dressing room. The assistant director went off to try to placate him, and we ran the scene again with Richard's stand-in."

"Who's the stand-in?"

"Michael Proctor. He's very good, by the way."

"And if the play goes back into production, would he step into the part?"