Chapter 55

Priest stood back and looked at the building in front of him before checking the address on the letter. It matched, but why did Jack Oldham want to meet in an abandoned theatre?

The New Playhouse was deceptively named since it was neither new nor could reasonably be described as a playhouse. Not any more at least. A set of cracked steps led up to four doors plastered in old production posters; presumably someone had gone to the trouble of creating a shrine for this relic of the arts, but a revival seemed unlikely if the planning notice attached to the wall was anything to go by. This time next year it would be flats.

He considered the situation. Every other meeting he had had with Jack had been in public, but things were dire for the Elias Foundation, and in a game of murder and corruption, twenty-four hours was a long time. Maybe things had changed again and Jack was being more cautious. Although a quiet bar somewhere was surely still a better option.

He pushed at the doors and found the far right one open. The hinges groaned but he could see tears in the posters between the door and its frame, meaning that someone had been in here before. In the entranceway, he found two dusty ticket booths and a lot of cobwebs. The carpet had been ripped up and the concrete floor was covered in rubbish: polystyrene cups, tickets, crisp packets, paper and flyers were strewn everywhere.

A shop mannequin, naked except for the theatre staff hat he wore, stared at Priest from behind one of the counters.

The letter had been quite specific, down to the row and seat number, and Priest was beginning to feel uneasy. If Jack had set up this meeting, he’d have met him in the foyer – he wasn’t a dramatist, he was a busy man. Someone was playing games and it wasn’t Jack Oldham.

Priest wiped his brow, irritated. There had been a time when he’d have radioed for backup. There had been procedures to follow, and help at hand. Now he was on his own. Priest glanced behind him. There were dangers ahead, but he had to risk it. For Simeon. No going back now.

He moved forward cautiously. A set of stairs to the right that looked like they ought to be condemned led, according to the faded signage, to the circle. The stalls were ahead, apparently, past a bar area.