Murder in the Second Row by Bev Robitai

word
with you please, Tamara. Right now!’
    The authority
in her voice was strong enough to force the unwilling girl to obey.
Tamara flounced down the steps from the stage to the auditorium and
faced the woman square on. Tamara was rigid with anger, standing
perfectly still, while the other spoke calmly and quietly. Jessica
couldn’t tell what was being said, or even if Tamara was actually
listening.
    Meanwhile, Adam
had taken Austin aside and was speaking to him very seriously.
Austin was nodding, looking subdued. A few more minutes and he’d be
ready to cry.
    Jessica let out
a deep breath she hadn’t even known she was holding. Another
dramatic evening at the theatre – and the show hadn’t even opened
yet.
     
    It was just as
well that Saturday dawned grey and damp with occasional showers
forecasted, otherwise Jessica might have been tempted to skip going
to the theatre in favour of going for a drive instead. On a sunny
day, a trip in her little white VW convertible to visit some
wineries or craft galleries would have been a much more appealing
prospect than spending yet another afternoon shut away in the dim
and dusty Regent.
    Her first task,
before the cast arrived, was to pick up all the messy bits of
tissue left on the stage from Thursday night, muttering under her
breath about actors expecting the crew to clear up after them. Fair
enough when there was a performance, then the crew was responsible,
but this was just rehearsal and at this stage they shouldn’t even
be using props.
    ‘You all right
there, Jessica?’ asked Howard, walking across the stage on his way
to the workshop. ‘Happy talking to yourself?’
    ‘Yes thanks –
just badmouthing the actors again. Nothing to worry about.’
    ‘Hey, if you’re
free, would you give us a hand with this tent thing today?’
    ‘Sure. I’ve had
enough of watching rehearsals this week. Some sane company would be
great.’ She followed Howard into the workshop where he pulled out a
large roll of cream canvas.
    ‘This is the
material we’re using, and over there’s the tent design that young
Nathan came up with. He’s getting clued in to how a set works now,
so it should be fairly straightforward.’
    She studied the
sketch, noting approvingly how Nathan had given side views as well,
and included outlines of each piece of fabric with the measurements
required.
    ‘Wow, he has
done well. We’ll have to keep him on.’
    Gazza ambled
in, warming his hands on a mug of coffee. He grunted a greeting
even more taciturnly than usual.
    ‘Well, hi
there, big fella,’ Jessica chirped brightly. ‘Are we going to have
a swell time doing fun stuff today?’
    He levelled a
look at her that would have daunted a lesser woman. She pulled a
face and laughed at him. ‘Are we a big grumpy bear this
afternoon?’
    ‘We feckin’
will be if you carry on like that. At least let me drink my coffee
first.’ He settled himself on a corner of the workbench and
sighed.
    Jessica wisely
left him in peace and looked at the sketch again.
    ‘These scallops
along the edge of the awning – are we going to have to sew all
those?’
    Howard looked
over her shoulder. ‘That will be a hell of a job, won’t it? We’d
probably need an industrial machine for it too. I wonder if any
place in town stocks them.’
    Gazza glanced
over. ‘Glue the bastards,’ he said succinctly. ‘Then draw the
stitching on with a fine pen afterwards.’
    ‘Brilliant!’
exclaimed Jessica. ‘That must be damned good coffee, Gaz. I’m gonna
get me some of that. Do you want one Howard?’
    ‘Sure, if
you’re going – thank you. Better pull the side doors closed after
you so we don’t disturb the thespians. They’ll be getting started
any minute.’
    She heaved the
thick double doors across, cutting the workshop off from the stage
area. She would come back through the Green Room by taking yet
another quirky set of stairs into the other end of the
workshop.
    Entering the
kitchen, she saw that Simone had