“I’m still waiting to hear who’s going to be playing opposite me,” said Lissa, in a pretty, smiling, and very pointed way.
“We’re still in negotiations,” Elizabeth said quickly. “We’re almost there, only a few last details to hammer out with his agent.”
“We can’t name him yet, for obvious reasons,” said Benjamin. “But he is very enthusiastic. Loves the play…”
Happy leaned in close beside Melody. “You think the theatre’s owners could be Catherine Latimer’s old friends?” he said quietly. “And that’s why we’re here?”
“Wouldn’t surprise me,” said Melody.
“So!” Lissa said brightly, turning the full force of her charm on JC. “You’re the experts. But what are you, exactly? Spookbusters? Exorcists R Us?”
“No-one’s reported seeing any actual ghosts,” Benjamin said quickly. “Let’s not get ahead of ourselves, eh?”
“It could still all turn out to be nothing,” said Elizabeth.
“Or nothing important, anyway,” said Benjamin.
“What exactly happened?” said JC, and something in his voice stopped Benjamin in mid flow. He looked at his wife.
“The workers we hired to renovate this building, at very expensive rates, were all very vague about what they’d encountered here,” Elizabeth said steadily. “In fact, we couldn’t get a straight answer out of any of them. But every single one of them was out of here inside of twelve hours; and not one of them would agree to set foot inside the building again, no matter how much was offered them, until we’d agreed to Do Something…”
“Oh, that’s us!” JC said cheerfully. “We’re great ones for Doing Something!”
“Suddenly and violently and all over the place,” said Happy.
“But what actually happened here?” Melody insisted. “What did the workers see, or hear…?”
“They’d barely been in here a few hours before the problems started,” said Benjamin, reluctantly. “The men saw and heard…things, though they wouldn’t say what. There was a constant feeling of being watched, apparently, of being observed by unfriendly eyes. Things, tools, would disappear from right under their hands, then reappear somewhere else. Voices, in the dark, saying things…bad things. Someone crying who wouldn’t stop. Someone they could never find calling for help. And a constant sense of someone standing right behind you, close enough to reach out and lay a hand on your shoulder…”
“And then they found the dead tramp,” said Elizabeth. “Right there on the main stage.”
“And that was the end of that,” said Benjamin. “The final straw. No-one would go back in after that.”
“How did he die exactly?” said Melody.
“Heart attack,” Benjamin said carefully. “That’s what the doctor put on the death certificate.”
“It was a reporter from the local paper who claimed that the man died of fright,” said Elizabeth. “Apparently he saw a photo of the tramp’s face…Anyway, that put it on the front page of the local rag. After all, died of fright is a headline. Died of a heart attack is nothing more than filler. Page twelve, if you’re lucky.”
“Still!” Lissa said brightly. “Paranormal encounters, eh? Isn’t it exciting?”
JC, Melody, and Happy all looked at her in a pitying sort of way, which she entirely failed to pick up on.
“We insisted on being here, to oversee your work,” Elizabeth said to JC. “To ensure the theatre’s interests are represented while you work out what’s going on here.”
“What’s really going on?” Benjamin said heavily. “I’m still not convinced by any of this.”
“You sounded pretty convinced a moment ago,” said Happy.
“We need to get this all done and sorted!” Benjamin said stubbornly. “Nothing can be allowed to get in the way of our play’s revival!”
“Nothing,” Elizabeth said flatly. “We’ve waited too long for this.” She looked straight at JC. “You have to get to the bottom of this, Mr. Chance. Before the theatre’s owners lose faith and whip the funding out from under us. Again.”
Lissa looked sharply at Elizabeth and Benjamin. “Is there a problem with the funding? Is there, in fact, some doubt as to whether this play will actually go on? I turned down a really good part in a good film because my agent said this would be a good career move! I can’t afford a mis-step in my career at this point!”
Elizabeth and Benjamin looked fondly at each other. “Doesn’t she remind you of us, at that age?” said Elizabeth.
“Answer the question!” said Lissa, actually stamping one small but perfect foot.
“The funding is in place and perfectly secure,” Benjamin said soothingly. “The play will go on. As soon as the experts here have put everything to rights. Which shouldn’t take too long; right, Mr. Chance?”
“We’re not going to have to get a medium in, are we?” said Elizabeth. “They’re always so expensive…”
“I worked with a medium, once,” said Benjamin. “Doing the knockings for him, banging a pair of tap shoes against the underside of the stage. It was all killing effective…”
“Was that the one who used to do the cold readings?” said Elizabeth. “And then used what he knew to get the more susceptible ones into bed with him, so he could scam their pin numbers…?”
“Does this theatre have a history of ghosts?” asked JC, cutting in firmly.
“Well, of course; every theatre does,” said Benjamin. “But they’re just stories. Something to pass the time backstage, when you’re not on for ages, and give the chorus line something to squeal and giggle about. No-one ever takes them seriously.”
“What stories do you have here?” said Melody, not very patiently.
“There’s the Lady in White,” said Elizabeth. “If you see her drifting around the dressing-rooms on opening night, that’s supposed to guarantee a good run for your show.”
“And then there’s the Headless Panto Dame,” said Benjamin. “Nasty accident with a trap-door, back in the sixties. Traumatised a whole pack of Cub Scouts in the front row.”
“Is she bad luck to see?” said Happy.
“For anyone who sees him, yes,” said Elizabeth.
“But,” said Benjamin, very firmly, “there have never been any…unexplained incidents in the theatre before this. Not one. No nasty business, nothing properly frightening, and certainly never anything bad enough to send dozens of hardened workmen running away from very well-paid work.”
And then they all looked round sharply again as the main doors slammed shut. And there, standing before them, smiling gently, was an old man with stooped shoulders, a long brown overall, and a flat cap perched slightly off skew on his bald head. He looked to be well into his seventies, with a heavily lined face, a weak smile, and a really unfortunate attempt at a moustache. He nodded vaguely to everyone present, regarding them all with pale, watery eyes.
“Sorry about that, ladies and gents; didn’t mean to startle anyone. I’m Old Tom; used to be caretaker here, back in the day. Called out of a well-earned retirement to give a hand with the…current situation.”
Benjamin looked at him suspiciously. “We didn’t hire you.”
“Bless you, no, sir,” said Old Tom, blinking quickly. “The theatre’s owners contacted me personally, asked me to come back and help out. I couldn’t say no, not after they were so good to me, all those years. Spent the best years of my life here, looking after the old place. No-one knows the old Haybarn better than me. Seen them all come and go, I have. The stories I could tell…Anyway. Couldn’t leave the old girl in the hands of strangers. No-one knows the ins and outs of the Haybarn better than me, ladies and gents. Shall I show you around?”
“Hold it,” said JC. “Who are the theatre’s owners?”
“Mr. and Mrs. Lovett, sir,” said Old Tom. “The Lovetts have owned the Haybarn for generations.”
“Why didn’t anyone buy the theatre while it was closed?” said Melody.
“Because it was never put up for sale, miss,” said Old Tom. “They’d never sell this old place. Far too much sentimental value. Of course, it helps that the Lovetts aren’t short of a bob or two, if you catch my drift.” Here, Old Tom did his best to wink roguishly. “No; they’ve been waiting for exactly the right time to reopen their theatre again.”