Final Act by Dianne Yetman (best free ebook reader .TXT) 📕

the briefcase. Is that good enough for you?”  The man reached for his cell. “If not, you better get out of my face before I call the police.”

“Come on Kate”, Shirley said.  “Let’s go.”

Kate paled, and shook like one who had just been suckered punched.

“Get lost lady. I don’t have time for this shit; I’ve got a room people waiting for my presentation.” He turned to Shirley.  “If I were you, I’d see that your friend gets help.”

Shirley steered Kate towards the car, got behind the wheel and sped away, neither woman spoke for the next five minutes.

“I swore it was Roger’s briefcase, Shirley.  I mean, the racing decals, the same colour.  Christ almighty, how many race jocks are there in this city?”

“Roger’s briefcase, together with his gun and shield, are in his lock up.  First thing I was asked to check on this morning.  I didn’t think to mention it during our briefing.”

“Didn’t think about nails it.  I want to know everything, understand. Savy?  Never hold anything back from a working partner.  Nothing.”

“I hear you and it won’t happen again.  But I’m not the cop who slammed Joe Citizen around for nothing.   As far as I’m concerned, it didn’t happen.  One more hint of something else like this though, I’ll spill my guts to everyone and anyone who will listen.  I have a lot to learn but one thing I know, our job is to protect the public, not menace them.”

Kate stared out the window and said nothing.

***

Andrew stood on the sidelines and watched the first rehearsal of Arthur Miller’s play, Death of a Salesman.  He paid careful attention to Charlotte; akaWillie Loman’s wife, as she stretched her arms, mimed waking up, put on her robe, and tried to portray a woman who is listening for her husband to arrive.

James, as Willie Loman, the Salesman, entered carrying two large sample cases.  He crossed the stage to the doorway of his house, his exhaustion apparent.  He unlocked the door, came into the kitchen, and dropped the cases.

“Willy!” Linda calls.

“Stop”, Henry says.

The two actors turn to their Director.

“Charlotte darling, the tone isn’t quite right.  It implies a much younger wife who can’t wait to get Willy in bed. Linda loves her husband, more than loves him, she admires him, his mercurial nature, his dreams and little cruelties but it is a love of wisdom, not passion.  Your motivation is good, and great job on the listening.  But a temper the passion in saying his name...”

Eleanor strode across the set, apologized for the interruption and pulled Henry aside. Kate and Shirley stood on the left wing of the stage.

Charlotte stormed across centre stage to Andrew.

“What the hell is going on?  Are the police going to haunt every production we’re in?”

“No idea, Charlotte.”

“We’ve got work to do.  After all, we’re not doing a Cole Porter ditty.  Death of a Salesman requires concentration and long hours of rehearsal.  Our new director isn’t following in the footsteps of his predecessor.  Jeffrey would have put the run to them.”

“Get used to it Charlotte.  Henry isn’t Jeffrey.  He deserves our support. Going from a producer to director is no easy stretch.”

She shot him a curious look.

“Maybe so, but I’m concerned about this production.  Too many changes, those two new actors that are playing the boys – too inexperienced, if you ask me.  When I started out, I didn’t overstep my talent, I let it evolve under the nurture of those more experienced than I.  Why it took me ten long years before I felt competent enough for one of the Bard’s plays.”

Andrew bit his tongue.

“No, there are too many changes.  Furthermore, I’m not sure Eleanor knows what she’s doing.  After all, arranging furniture one minute and producing a show the next is quite a leap.”

“Pull your reins in, Charlotte.  That’s hardly fair to Eleanor.”

“Andrew, my dear, you’re too kind.  You were robbed, cheated.  If you were in the Director’s chair, as anyone with any sense would agree, we would have order not this chaos.”

“Watch what you’re saying Charlotte.  It’s dangerous times we live in. I know what it takes to put on a play and I know the little it takes to derail it.  As the stage manager I’m keeping a close eye on every facet of this production so, no need to panic, no need at all.”

“Oh, never mind.  Maybe I’m being a bit too harsh; Eleanor does have all those Toni’s to her name, she may do okay.  And Henry isn’t too bad, I just can’t get used to his approach – so mild mannered, so polite, he minces.  It’s not sexy at all.”

Gag me.

“That’s it, Charlotte.  Chin up attitude, it’s all about attitude.”

Charlotte watched Kate and Shirley walk across the stage.  And it wasn’t only Charlotte who watched them approach.  Henry and Eleanor, huddled together, broke off their whispered conversation and stood staring as well.

Kate stepped forward, apologized for interrupting their rehearsal but it was important that they speak with them.  She promised not to detain them any longer than necessary.

It took two hours before the two detectives packed up their gear and left the premises.

Worried looking cast members resumed the rehearsal.  Eleanor and Henry walked up the theatre aisle and sat in seats far removed from the stage and were soon deep in conversation.

“I know the time pressures, Eleanor.  You don’t have to remind me.”

“A firmer hand, Henry, that’s all I’m saying.  We’ve both got a lot riding on this production.  People are watching.  I don’t know what your ambitions are but this is my chance and I don’t want anything screwing it up.”

“You know, Eleanor, we got our chance as a result of Jeffrey’s murder, not because we necessarily deserved it.”

“Don’t be silly.  The Board could have chosen anyone else but they chose us. So, let’s not waste time.   I wasn’t happy with the second act, the scene between Willy and Howard isn’t right.  Have you spoken to them yet?”

“No, I ...” Henry glanced