"I still don't understand his connection to the Drury Lane Theatre, where we're supposed to find the Muffin Man."
"That's the easy part," the Pillar says. "The plays needed funding for production. Carroll was smart and resourceful. He gave his plays for free to the Theatre Royal, which was struggling after being burned down a few years back and couldn't afford to pay for new plays. In return, the theatre provided Carroll with costumes for his plays."
"That was why he held the suitcase and smiled when the kids asked him," I murmur.
"Excuse me?"
"Nothing," I say. "So that's his connection to Drury Lane Theatre?"
"My assumption, with the Cheshire's clues, is that Lewis Carroll met the Muffin Man in Drury Lane," he says. "Only, Carroll never felt the need to mention the Muffin Man in any of his writings."
"Maybe Carroll wrote the nursery rhyme?"
"That's farfetched, and we have no evidence to back it up," he says. "All I know is that after all those connections and the fact that an Alice in Wonderland play took place here the day the murders started, I believe the Muffin Man wants us to be here. He will probably want us to witness something."
"Something like what?"
In this moment, the Pillar cranes his neck upward at the higher balconies in the theatre. An unusual look startles his face. "Something like this." He points up.
I look and squint against the faint light in the theatre. I see an important woman arriving in the balcony, accompanied by a number of guards.
"What brings Margaret Kent here?" I ask.
"The Duchess is in the house." The Pillar sighs. "This is getting curiouser and curiouser." He lowers his head, ready to watch the play. "I don't feel guilty using her credit card to pay for your dress now."
"What?" I crane my neck at him in surprise. "You did what?"
"We used it to book the theatre's tickets too." He shakes his shoulder. "She is a charitable woman." Then a huge smirk invades his face. "Which reminds me..."
Chapter 3 5
The Duchess' presence provokes the Pillar. Consequences are both absurd and hilarious.
"Take this." He passes me his hookah again, spits in his gloves, and says, "This is going to be fun."
The Pillar stands and faces the crowd. Sitting right in the middle of the audience, the crowd is watching us from every direction.
"Sit down!" someone says.
"Ladies and morons of the Theatre Royal." The Pillar's welcoming hands masquerade his insults. The smile on his face is overly sincere, like those self-help lecturers. "Tonight isn't a normal night. It's the kind of evening remembered in history books. You know history, which only winners write, and forge it the way they like?"
Someone chuckles among the crowd. A few still demand he sits. A couple swear at him, pretty vulgar words you're not supposed to say in a theatre. And to my surprise, the stage's curtains hang half open.
"Are you part of the show?" a kid asks.
The Pillar nods. "So, like I said, ladies and monkeys, all you silly Wonderland lovers." Another couple of spectators chuckle. "Tonight is the night. We're here in the presence of an extraordinary woman." He points upward at the balconies. The Duchess' guards keep calm, but reach for their guns. The light technician, thinking the show has turned elsewhere, directs the spotlight at the balcony. That's where everyone is looking now. "The one and only Margaret Ugly Kent!" The Pillar's theatrical act deserves an Oscar.
"Is that really her middle name?" I hiss.
He dismisses me with a wave of his hand and talks to the theatre's orchestra. "This wasn't really the bang I was looking for." He looks annoyed. "This is the most important woman in Parliament."
The orchestra musicians seem to suddenly think he is the man in charge. One of them suggests he welcome the Duchess again, so they could play a great musical introduction.
The Pillar sniffs and repeats his welcome: "The one and only, woman of the year, whom all you morons are secretly afraid of, Margaret Kent!"
This time, music and light overwhelm the place. The crowd, either pressured or on their own will, stand up and clap for the Duchess.
Margaret Kent feels the pressure to stand up and greet her fans, her pursing lips growling at the Pillar. I don't think she wanted to be seen. She sneaked in, last minute. Is she looking for the Muffin Man too?
"Flowers!" the Pillar demands of the theatre's staff. "Where are the flowers?"
No one offers flowers. Why would they have flowers in a play? The Pillar changes strategies.
"Be seated, citizens," the Pillar says. They do so. "Now, do you think that our beloved Duchess—ah, I mean Parliament lady—is here for the sake of art? Of course she doesn't care about art," the Pillar continues. "She doesn't even care about theatre." The crowd's faces go red. Some of them sink deeper in their seats. "But she cares about you." Some of them rise back in their seats. "She loves you. She really does. And you know what she has in store for you?" He laughs. "Oh, no, don't be absurd. She's not going to chop off anyone's heads today. That would be the Queen of Hearts we're about to see in the play." The Pillar signals to the orchestra's drummer to hit the cymbals for effect. Most of the crowd laughs, uneasily. "Our beloved Margaret Kent has a surprise for you. And you know why? Because you are all sheep—I mean, obedient citizens who pay taxes and vote for her." His smile never weakens. "And because of that, she, on behalf of all prestigiously obnoxious members of Parliament, and on behalf of the Queen of England, and of course let's not forget Roman Yeskelitch, the man who lost his children's heads to an evil watermelon last week. On behalf of all of those, you're rewarded a lifetime's free meals at Duck N Donald's Trashburgers." He raises his hands, and a few kids clap. "And lifetime free drinks." His voice pitches even higher. "From Drink Dishit soda drinks." People stand up again and clap. "Lifetime free meals! Can you even imagine?"
Praises, claps, and moans as if they all won the lottery. The crowd goes crazy. What's with people's unconditional appreciation for food?
Again, the Duchess feels the need to comply and smile to her fans.
"And who do you thank for this?" The Pillar points up at the Duchess, who forcefully waves back to the appreciative audience. "You've gotta love Britain!" The Pillar's voice is barely audible among the crowd's praise. The Drury Lane Theatre turned into one great chaotic food market.
"Enjoy all the food you can eat." The Pillar raises his voice as much as possible in this madfest. "Enjoy all cholesterol, all the bad crabs, all the sugar and saturated fat! Get fat, people of Britain. Sugar your bellies. Beer away your minds. Forget about your Bill of Rights. Here is your Bill of Disease. Buy a ticket for your loon cancer. It's awesome to be insane!"
The Pillar, out of breath, taps his hat at the Duchess, who smiles in the face of the enemy. That fake politician smile.
The Pillar sits down, adjusts his clothes, and says, "Well, that was something." He smiles at me. I have to admit, I smile back. He might be a killer. He might be devious, and plagued by a lot of conspiracy theories, but I can't help but laugh. "So why were we here, again?"
Chapter 3 6