‘In that case neither of you has any right to stay. I must ask you both to go. Go, for pity’s sake, both of you.’

The doors into the foyer opened. Winty Morris’s voice said: ‘Oh, sorry. I didn’t realize – ‘

‘Mr Morris, wait! I must speak with you. My claidheamh-mor, Mr Morris! Please!’

Gaston hurried down the aisle and out into the foyer. The doors swung to behind him and he became a distant rumpus.

Peregrine said: ‘I’m extremely sorry, Rangi. We’ll go on when I’ve settled this idiotic affair. Now then, Bruce.’

He took Barrabell’s elbow and led him aside. ‘My dear chap,’ he said, forcing his voice into a warmth he did not feel, ‘Alleyn has told me of your tragedy. I couldn’t be sorrier for you. But I must ask you this: don’t you feel that with young William in the company you would be most unhappy? I do. I – ‘

Barrabell turned deadly white. He stared at Peregrine.

‘You little rat,’ he said. He turned on his heel, picked up his case and left the theatre.

‘Phew!’ said Peregrine. ‘OK, Rangi. We’ll have an audition.’

CHAPTER 9
Finis

By Monday morning the theatre was almost rid of Macbeth. The units, that from the auditorium had seemed solid but had silently revolved showing different aspects of the scenery, had been taken apart and stacked against the walls.

The skeleton dangling from its gallows had been cut down and put in the property room, still decked out in its disreputable rags.

The stage, every inch of it, was scrubbed and smelt of disinfectant. In front-of-house, advertisements for the new play replaced the old Macbeth posters and in the foyer the giant photograph frames were empty. The lifesize photograph of Macbeth was rolled up and slid into a cardboard cylinder. It disappeared into the basement.

The bookstall had its display for the most part taken down and stacked in cartons; the programmes had been cleared out and stuffed into rubbish bags awaiting the collectors.

Going, going, gone, thought little Winter Morris. It was a lovely show.

The dressing-rooms were empty and scrubbed. All except the star-room which was locked and untouched, except by the police, since Sir Dougal Macdougal walked out of it for the last time. His solicitors had given notice of sending persons in to collect his possessions. His name had been removed from the door.

The first rehearsal for the new play was set down for Tuesday morning. The cast took the day off, trying to cope with delayed shock.

Nina in her diminutive flat told herself that the malign influence of Macbeth was now satisfied and made a solemn promise to herself that she would not talk about it inside the theatre. She was greatly distressed, of course, and she wondered avidly who had done the murder, but she was sustained and even excited by being so over-whelmingly right in all her pronouncements.