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‘She used this room as her base, I was told.’ Diamond couldn’t see where. He was wedged between an ironing board and a washing machine. Every surface was covered in layers of dress materials. Racks of costumes, hatboxes piled high, wigs on dummy heads and sewing machines filled all the other space.

‘She did, but you wouldn’t know. She always brought her own things with her and took them away at the end of the show.’

‘What things?’

‘Her bags, I mean, with all she needed. Dressers are expected to deal with any emergency from a missing button to a false moustache that won’t stick.’

‘Make-up?’

‘In rare cases, yes.’

‘Like Clarion?’

‘Yes.’

‘Did Denise supply the make-up for Clarion?’

‘That’s right. Her own. She had a special bag for it.’

‘Describe this bag, would you?’

‘Black leather, rather like an old-fashioned doctor’s bag, with all the pots and brushes inside. I expect you’ll find it in her house.’

‘We already searched. It isn’t there.’

‘In her car, then.’

‘Do you know where she parked?’

‘Anywhere she could. Finding a place is a lottery at this time of year, with all the summer visitors.’

He looked across the heaps of costumes and materials. ‘I was wondering if she left a note somewhere.’

‘A suicide note? I haven’t found one. I don’t think she’d leave it here. Things get covered over. I’m always losing scissors.’

‘It’s worth a check.’

‘If it’s anywhere, it would be somewhere near the door where you’re standing. She’d hang her coat there and chat, just like you are.’

He didn’t class his questions as chat. After lifting everything within reach and finding no note he asked, ‘Did she seem anxious about anything?’

‘Anxious? Not Denise. She wouldn’t mind me saying she was as tough as old boots. She’d done all sorts. At one time when she couldn’t get theatre work she helped out an undertaker’s, prettifying the departed for their relatives to see them. She also toured with a theatre company in Bosnia when the war was going on. And when she was just a slip of a girl she was involved with a prison drama group in Manchester, murderers and rapists. She was no wimp, bless her.’ She produced a tissue and blew her nose, but Diamond had the impression it was more about self-pity than sympathy. The loss of the senior dresser would add to the workload.

‘Did she talk to you about the current production?’

‘I talked to her. As one of the dressers she works for me, you see.’

The pecking order again. ‘Are there others?’

‘Usually, yes, but not for this production apart from one little student who helps out. There are only seven actors and not many costume changes.’

‘Did Denise have anything to say about the casting?’

‘We consulted over the costumes and make-up.’ A guarded answer.

‘Yes, but did she say anything about I Am a Camera? Personalities, the actors in particular? You can be frank with me.’

The last words were a mistake. Kate shook her head before he’d finished saying them. He had an instinct that this big-eyed, blousy woman who didn’t like being known as the wardrobe mistress would be a rich source of gossip if only he could tap into it.

‘Come on, Kate,’ he said. ‘You just told me she liked a chat. You both had to work with the same set of people. Actors are fascinating to be around, aren’t they?’

‘Tell me about it,’ she told him, rolling her eyes, and then appeared willing to say more now that the focus had shifted from Denise. ‘They’re like kids, most of them. It’s all “me, me.” And if they’re not full of themselves they’re sucking their thumbs in a corner, wanting to be mothered. It depends.’

‘How was Clarion getting on with everyone?’

‘Clarion?’ She spoke the name as if it had no connection to the cast. ‘All right.’ Said without conviction.

‘Nervous?’

‘She was confident in one way, used to dealing with people, but it stood out a mile that she was terrified of acting. She’s used to going in front of an audience, huge audiences sometimes, but not speaking lines. She kept telling us she’d had drama training, and I think she was trying to convince herself more than us. She wasn’t much good in rehearsal.’

‘Forgetting her lines?’

‘More the way she spoke them. Trying too hard. It’s not an easy part, Sally Bowles.’

‘Was there a sense that the play was going to flop?’

Kate hesitated. He’d pressed too hard again. No one admits they’re involved in a turkey until it’s too late.

‘More nervousness than usual, then?’

‘I suppose.’

‘And how was Denise taking it? Was it personal for her?’

She was even more twitchy now that Denise’s name had come up again. ‘What do you mean – personal?’

‘She worked here a long time. She was proud of the theatre, wasn’t she?’

‘It was a job like any other. There’s this idea that theatre people are like a family. Sentimental tripe.’

‘You get dysfunctional families.’

‘Too true.’ She busied herself brushing the front of a jacket with such sudden force that it was a wonder the lapels stayed put. ‘But we’re professionals and we do the job we’re paid to do, or try to.’ There was strong resentment here, but what about he couldn’t tell.

‘If a play flops, you all work hard for small audiences and a blasting from the critics,’ he said. ‘I get the impression there was a lot of nervousness about this one. I’m wondering if Denise took it to heart.’

‘She felt we’d been short-changed with Clarion getting the role, and quite a number of us shared her opinion.’

‘But then it’s all over at the end of a week,’ he said. ‘Didn’t justify killing herself. Was she well balanced?’

‘I always thought so.’

‘Maybe there were other strains in her life.’

She was shaking her head before he’d got the words out. ‘I doubt it.’

‘Was she romantically involved with anyone?’

‘In the theatre?

‘Or outside.’

‘If she was, she never said a word about it. I’m sure I’d know. I’ve talked to her often enough about my own love life. It’s a standing joke that I wear my heart on my sleeves. Sleeves – geddit? Being upfront, as I am, I find encourages other people to share their secrets.’

People’s self-image is often at variance with reality. Diamond wouldn’t have called this lady upfront. ‘She lived alone.’

‘Her choice. Some of us think a man is for pleasure, not for life.’ Surprisingly in the circumstances, she was giving Diamond the eye. Maybe that was what she meant by upfront.

‘Did she have any other secrets I should know about?’

‘What are you hinting at? She wasn’t gay. Plenty of people in this profession are, but Denise wasn’t.’

‘On Monday when the play opened, did she call in here?’

‘Always does, about six, in time to deliver the costumes to the actors. She was no different from usual, just anxious about the first night, as we all were.’

‘Can you recall what was said?’

‘Not much. She was doing the rounds of the dressing rooms. It’s not a time for chat. I think we both said we hoped it would go better than the dress rehearsal. When the time came to sort Clarion out, she picked up her case and tootled off, as calm as a lake in heaven.’

‘Her case. You’re speaking of the make-up case?’

‘Yes.’

‘I want to be clear about this. Denise arrived with the makeup. Had she come straight here from her car?’

‘I assume so. She was still wearing her coat. Like I said, she always hung it on the door behind you.’

‘So no one could have tampered with the make-up before she got to Clarion’s dressing room?’

‘That’s for certain.’