“I’ll do it,” Prudence said before Myott could object. “I’m not working until the fourth performance, andIknow my lines.” That was said with a smug sideways glance at Edward.
Myott’s jaw worked. “The doors open in less than two hours. That may seem like a lot of time, but—”
“We only need fifteen minutes. Twenty, tops,” Kendra promised.
Myott didn’t look happy, but he seemed to realize that he was wasting time by standing there arguing. He huffed out an exasperated breath and flapped an impatient hand at Prudence. “Fifteen minutes, no more! This ain’t a bloody party. We’ve got a schedule to keep!”
Prudence grinned, her skirts belling out as she pivoted and moved to the stairs off the stage. “Don’t mind Mr. Myott. It’s been absolutely frantic around here since Clarice left,” she confided as they joined her, clunking down the wooden steps. “Not even a by-your-leave, and she was supposed to play Portia too. Mr. Myott has been in a peevish mood ever since, even though wedohave Sarah. The understudy,” she identified, anticipating the question. “Personally, I think she’s better than Clarice— There!” She paused in the aisle. “That’s where we found the poor creature.”
“Which seat exactly?” Kendra asked.
“That one, third seat off the aisle. It was really quite dreadful.” Prudence’s cheerful tone was at odds with her words. “She was just lying there, her neck twisted at a peculiar angle. And the blood . . .”
Kendra tuned out the actress as she studied the crime scene. She observed the balconies, mentally calculating the distance. The lowest was about ten feet off the floor. A fall from there might result in a sprained ankle or a few broken bones, but the chance of survival was high. The second- and third-tier balconies were iffier, depending how one landed.
“We need to go to the top balcony,” she announced.
Prudence led the way down the aisle and through an arched door, to a wide, carpeted staircase.
“You mentioned someone named Edwina,” Kendra said as they mounted the steps. “She didn’t come in today?”
“I haven’t seen her since Saturday evening. Mr. Myott thinks she took off because she was probably the first one to find the body. I reckon she finally returned to her family, the poor dear.” Warming to the subject, Prudence explained, “She was burned something fierce in a fire at one of the theaters on Drury Lane. She’d come to London to be an actress, but afterwards . . . well, it ain’t like folks would want to seeheronstage. She helped Old Beatrice, our seamstress, with the costumes. Quite clever with a needle, she is.”
Prudence flounced up the stairs. “It ain’t uncommon for folks to leave, of course. We’re a flighty lot.” She glanced over her shoulder, shooting Alec a flirtatious grin. “But, I confess, I was surprised Edwina didn’t tell Old Beatrice she was leaving. It was a shabby thing to do, as Old Beatrice treated her well. And Mr. Harvey. Mr. Myott acts as though he’s the one grievously injured, but it was Mr. Harvey who let her stay here at the theater. Felt sorry for her, I reckon. Still, probably gave her a fright if she found the body.”
“Edwina lives here at the theater?”
“Yes.”
“If she found the body, why wasn’t she the one who contacted the constables?”
Prudence lifted one shoulder in a half shrug. “Plenty of folks get nervous around the law.”
Kendra asked, “What’s Edwina’s last name?”
“Oh.” Prudence’s brow wrinkled. “I can’t say that I know. We just called her Edwina.”
Prudence paused on the third-floor landing to catch her breath, then continued up to the fourth level. When they reached the landing, she flung out a hand dramatically and announced, “Here you go!”
The entrance to each private box was framed by diaphanous gold silk curtains, which could be closed for the discretion of those inside. The space inside the boxes was small, with six Queen Anne chairs arranged in two rows facing the stage. Decorative sconces dotted each wall. A delicate side table was positioned next to the front row.
Kendra walked to the balustrade. Resting her hands on the rail, she estimated the height to be about three inches above her waist. Slowly, she leaned over the railing to peer down at the seats where Prudence had found Lady Westford’s broken body. On the stage, the noise and activity continued. No one was paying them any attention.
Alec joined her. “What a horrid way to die,” he murmured softly, his gaze on the seats below.
“Oh, I agree, sir. I can’t imagine killing myself in such a way,” Prudence piped up. “She must have been mad.”
Kendra regarded the actress curiously. “Why do you think she killed herself?”
“Well, because everyone knows it.” She shrugged. “She came here the day before she did it, you know. Right before our opening act. Lud, you should have heard Mr. Myott! He flew up into the boughs, told her that we had no time to answer her questions. You’d think Prinny himself was coming for the opening act.” She rolled her eyes. “We don’t even have a royal box.”
“Were you here when Lady Westford came?”
“Well, of course. I’m the one who spoke to her first.”
“What did she want?”
“To speak to Clarice.”
