Freddie Jones and The Price Theatre

My partner, CJ, rolled his big brown eyes as the director of the Price Theatre fluttered her hands like excited birds. As CJ continued questioning the thin woman I turned my attention to the crime scene. Standing on the stage with the bright lights aiming into my eyes I couldn’t see the seats in the theatre, but I could hear the rustling of people and more than a few ghosts tingling my senses. The fuse controlling the house lights had blown earlier in the day.

              My shoes clicked smartly as I walked back to the body. I could see why he was cast as Romeo especially decked out in his full Romeo costume. His leggings outlined powerful legs, the tunic was cut to reveal smooth abs and a muscular chest. He was strikingly beautiful with a sharp jaw line, luscious lips and jet-black hair. He would have made an excellent Clark Kent/Superman. His eyes appeared blue, but it was difficult to determine with death casting its haze over them. I sighed and turned my attention back to the gaping maw of what remained of his neck. He was almost decapitated. By his own hand.

              A sharp whistle from CJ pulled me around. He was the center of a renegade Ren Faire from the looks of it. The cast had been in the middle of a full-dress rehearsal when the “accident” happened. The cast were all talking over each other competing for my partner’s attention. I slipped a hand into the inside pocket of my leather jacket for the emergency flask. It was time to turn on the big bad necromancer mojo and get some answers. Two large swallows of vodka always helped. I recapped the flask, returning it to its home then quietly muttered the prayer for Aura. The prayer settled over my presence, invisible to the naked eye. The prayer augmented my real aura and would push uncomfortable against those closest to me. Like the pressure of a balloon brushing their skin except it was brushing their auras. I let my steps turn heavy and loud. As I approached the circle of actors they unconsciously moved out of my way and stopped talking, arranging themselves in a loose semi-circle facing CJ and me.

              “Nice work, Elfreda, “CJ murmured. My eyes narrowed at the twinkle in his eyes. He loved nothing more than to slip my full name into conversations. The Name Game was an old game between us. He tried to slide my full name into conversations, and I corrected him every time. I refused to lose. I bumped the large man’s elbow as I stepped forward gathering the cast’s attention. “Alright folks,” I raised my hands in placating gesture, “I’m Detective Freddie Jones,” I glanced pointedly at CJ whose dark wrinkles crinkled with a grin as I corrected my name in my introduction. “I’m the resident necromancer for the department. Of course you’ve met my partner Detective CJ. We have a few questions for those who actually saw the …accident happen. The rest of you are free to go”. I heard a few sighs as some of the actors seemed disappointed not to be questioned.

              Only three costumed characters remained on the stage (not counting the dead Romeo) Juliet who was a blonde female version of Romeo, a mountain of a man as Lord Montague, and a wild haired Mercutio with smooth caramel skin and hazel eyes. I blinked rapidly breaking eye contact with Mercutio. There was something about that kid. I filed away the hint of magnetic energy that surrounded him for my subconscious to chew on.

              “Who wants to start?” I looked at the three expectantly.

              Lord Montague stepped forward, bowing deeply once to me then to CJ. “God give you good even my lady, my lord. Twas good Romeo did indulge in a jester’s practice,” he mimed a finger to the throat, “twas no jest occurred but murder most dark as slash after slash did severe poor Romeo, “he mimed his finger moving rapidly across his throat, then his head falling dramatically to the side”. I raised an eyebrow at CJ who blinked owlishly at Lord Montague.

              “Ah, thank you, sir. “Could either of you speak in plain English?” CJ asked Juliet and Mercutio.

              Lord Montague gasped throwing a hand to his chest, “Sir, more plain nor clear of speech could neither of mine compatriots provide.”

              “Oh, stuff it, Henry,” Juliet said.

              Henry/Lord Montague’s jaw dropped, and he spun quickly to Juliet his cape fluttering wildly. He pointed a finger at Juliet, “Tis the serpent’s tongue who has brought down my House. A curse on the House of Capulet.”

              Juliet sighed, gesturing for Kevin to move out of the way as she stepped forward. “He’s on of those ‘stay in character actors’, “she rolled her large eyes. Henry folded his arms and lifted his chin glaringly angrily at Juliet.

              “That sounds exhausting, “I said.

 Henry bowed to me, acknowledging my comment, “An actor hone’s his craft to the highest of art.”

              I raised an eyebrow, “I meant for everyone else,” I said dryly. Juliet snickered, Mercutio’s lips twitched, and Henry turned his back to us. Juliet shook both of our hands introducing herself professionally, “Maggie Dawson, nice to meet you both the circumstances notwithstanding.”

              “Kevin,” she gestured to Romeo, “was trying to demonstrate to me how it would be more dramatic if Juliet slit her throat instead of stabbing herself. He wasn’t the brightest bulb on the stage. I have lines to say which would be difficult to do if I’m supposed to be cutting my throat.”

              “Maggie,” Mercutio interjected, “he was new to acting.”

              “Mark you’re being too kind. You know you should have been Romeo.” Mark/Mercutio shrugged uncomfortably.

              “You were cast as Romeo?” I asked Mark. He nodded but kept silent.

              Luckily Maggie liked to talk. “Yes, he was until we received a large donation from Kevin’s father. “My eyebrows rose. I was beginning to see a motive. Henry returned to the conversation.

              “Mercutio is most talented. Romeo has looks but his light does not burn as bright as Mercutio’s.” I think he agreed with Juliet.

              “How’d that make you feel, Mark?” CJ asked.

              Mark sighed, “I don’t – didn’t--- care as long as the theatre stayed open, and I could be in the play.”

              Maggie smirked, shaking her head good naturedly. “See? A damn angel that one.” Mark’s cheeks blushed a soft red.

              “Did the knife begin cutting as soon as he picked it up?” I questioned.

              Mark shook his head in the negative, his wild black hair bouncing. “No, we all thought it was the prop. Everyone else went off on break and he was flirting –”

              “Showing off,” Maggie said.

              “With Maggie. He really liked her.” Maggie made a gagging noise. “He was just trying to get your attention Mags. Anyway, we thought it was the prop knife he picked up and was twirling it around, nothing happened. But when he touched it to his neck,” he gulped clutching his own neck “it just was like it had a life of its own. It started sawing into his neck it didn’t stop…” he trailed off.

              Maggie had her arms folded over her stomach as if she might be sick, “Mark grabbed his arm he tried to stop it, “she whispered. Suddenly the house lights flicked on as a set of double doors burst open. An older man in a suit rushed inside the theatre, screaming. “Where is he? Where’s my boy? Kevin?”

              It always surprised me how quickly CJ could move for such a large man. He intercepted Kevin’s father before he could see his son’s body. The three actors on stage hurried to block his view of Kevin as well. The father began screaming and pointing, trying to get around CJ. “It was you, wasn’t it?!” He pointed a shaking finger at Mark as CJ used his bulk to force the father back out the doors he had come through. As the drama unfolded, I watched those left in the theatre. The three actors on stage looked uncomfortable and sad, our forensic techs were unpacking equipment preparing to remove the body, they ignored the interruption safe in the knowledge we wouldn’t let harm come to them. That left only the Director.

              The bird like woman had rushed to the furthest corner in the theatre when Kevin’s father rushed in. Now, she paced in front of the stage adjusting her large glasses and glancing furtively at the body as the techs moved him off the stage. “Director? Ms. Carmine?” I drew her attention to me as her pacing brought her in line with me. “Could you join me on the stage?” She glanced at the blood and dagger still present.

              “Is it safe?” she questioned.

              I smirked. “Oh yes, quite.” She joined me on the stage clutching both hands in front of her, twisting them back and forth as if she couldn’t control them. I squatted down to exam the dagger and reached a handout as if to pick it up bare handed. Through the curtain of my hair, I watched the director suddenly drop her hands arms to her sides her hands incredibly still. I pulled gloves out of my pocket and now gloved I picked the dagger up by its handle, standing to show the dagger to her.

              “Strange isn’t, how a real dagger made it on the stage?” Her head bobbed on her skinny neck in agreement, but her hands remained incredibly still. I pretended to study the dagger intently, closing my eyes but really watching the woman under my lashes. “I feel something dark here.”

              “Oh?” She chirped.

              “Yes, yes, only another necromancer could have created this.” She licked her lips but did not move her hands. I could practically feel her desire to twist her hands together in worry. “Someone went through a lot of trouble to get something like this.” I flashed my eyes open quickly, holding the dagger hilt out to the other woman. “Here look, “ I thrust the hilt quickly in her direction she automatically jerked a hand up and the dagger came to attention in my palm standing point up to the ceiling. I felt a not nice smile curl my lips. She jerked her hand down and the dagger fell flat back into the palm of my hand. I yanked a rosary from my pocket and wound it quickly around the dagger’s point as the director appeared to transform in front of me. I’d thought her a meek hummingbird of a woman but now her true colors came to life. The woman was a damn raptor.

              “You don’t understand,” she hissed. “That, that “she sputtered, “idiot couldn’t act worth a damn! I worked for 30 years in this theatre I clawed my way up from the understudy of a worm. A worm! I was literally cast to be an understudy for a worm. And that moron comes in taking the role right out from under Mark because his daddy, “she spit the word out, “has money.”

              “Right of course.” I said, nodding as if this all made perfect sense to murder a kid barely twenty.

              She pulled her hand up making a cutting gesture. The dagger gave a slight twitch but rested safely in my palm. She tried her other hand then both hands at once as if she were trying a new dance move. CJ appeared behind her looking at me quizzically.

              “Can you cuff her, partner?” Not understanding but trusting me CJ pulled the woman’s arms behind her back as she continued to rant about privileged entitled nepo babies and untalented hacks. CJ ignored her as she screamed her thoughts about those with money and how she would be a worm no longer. He continued Mirandizing her shaking his head at her psychotic rage. That would be working with a cursed blade taking its toll on her soul. It did tend to spill out in an ugly mess when payment was due.

              I looked at Ms. Carmine raging wildly. Her words had turned to incoherent grunts. CJ glanced at me as he tried to control the now hand cuffed woman. Although we had worked together for years this was the first up close and personal payment CJ had truly seen a necromancer take. I shrugged my shoulder answering the question in his eyes. “We necromancers always take our payment, and it isn’t always pretty. ‘Look upon thy death’ Ms. Carmine, “I quoted from Romeo and Juliet.

There was a scattering of applause and I realized Mark, Maggie and Henry were still in the theatre. Truly smiling I took a bow before helping CJ cart the woman out of the theatre.