The Sans Pareil Mystery (The Detective Lavender Mysteries Book 2) by Karen Charlton Page B

killed herself from grief. Many of the audience dabbed at their eyes with their handkerchiefs but he was relieved when the final curtain fell.
    Led by the upstanding and appreciative Duke of Clarence, the audience rose to their feet. The applause was deafening. The Hanoverian princes were a sentimental bunch, Lavender decided.
    As she applauded, Magdalena pointed to the three huge candelabras, which still burned fiercely at the front of the stage. Each one must have held twenty fat candles. ‘There were several occasions when I thought that Miss Scott’s costume may catch in the flames.’ She had to lean in to Lavender to make herself heard over the cheering and the applause. ‘But I don’t suppose that it would have been the first time an actress caught fire.’
    ‘No, it wouldn’t.’ He enjoyed this enforced closeness to her warm body and the smell of her hair. ‘It is quite common for an actor to catch fire during a performance. However, it does tend to liven up a dull play.’
    She slapped him playfully on the arm with her fan and he thought he saw the glimmer of a smile at the corner of her lips. Relieved that her mood had lightened, he took his leave and arranged to meet her and Teresa in the foyer after he had finished his business backstage.
    He went down to the stalls and, pushing his way through the tide of bodies trying to exit the theatre, made his way towards the exit at the side of the stage. A porter, resplendent in the green and gold livery of the theatre, barred his way but once Lavender explained his business the man led him through the dark maze of narrow passages backstage.
    ‘Duke of Clarence and ’is party are coming backstage to congratulate the cast,’ he told Lavender. ‘Everyone’s waiting for ’im in there in the green room.’ He pointed to a door fifty yards down the corridor.
    Lavender nodded. Even without guidance from the porter, he would have easily located the green room. Apart from the buzz of excited voices emanating from the crowded chamber at the end of the corridor, there was a constant stream of animated cast members going in and out. Every time the door opened, he caught a glimpse of the soft green interior walls, which according to tradition, helped to rest the cast’s eyes after the glare of candlelight on the stage.
    He grimaced inwardly. After such a successful performance and a visit from the Duke of Clarence, Lavender knew he would be as welcome amongst these people as the spectre at the feast. The news he carried about April Divine would dash their high spirits and ruin their night.
    His guide obviously had the same idea. The porter stopped abruptly halfway down the corridor, and opened the door to a chilly office littered with props, discarded costumes and bookkeeping files. He gestured for Lavender to walk inside. A weak lamp glimmered on the battered desk. It smelt of paint and sawdust.
    ‘If you can wait in ’ere for a while, Detective,’ he said awkwardly. ‘I’ll get a message to Miss Scott that yer ’ere.’
    Lavender glanced around at the cluttered space and nodded.
    When Jane Scott limped stiffly into the cramped room her father accompanied her. Lavender stood up from the solitary chair in the room and offered it to Jane. She sank into it gratefully.
    ‘My father is the general manager of the theatre,’ she explained. ‘If your business pertains to the Sans Pareil, then he needs to hear it.’
    Jane Scott was tiny. Her magnificent stage presence had belied her diminutive stature. Beneath the heavy grease paint of her stage make-up, he saw the disfiguring marks of smallpox. She looked exhausted.
    ‘Good grief! This is terrible!’ she exclaimed, after Lavender had told them the reason for his visit. ‘Poor April! What a dreadful way to die!’ She put her face in her hands and began to sob. Her father placed a comforting arm round her quivering shoulders. After a few moments Jane lifted her head and wiped away her tears with a lawn handkerchief.