The Secret Chronicles of Sherlock Holmes by June Thomson Page A

entered the dressing-room and concealed himself behind the screen after Mademoiselle’s shoulders had been powdered. As I conclude from his surreptitious behaviour that he had not been invited into the dressing-room, then he must have entered it when it was empty, that is, after Mademoiselle Rossignol had gone on stage and when you, Miss Budd, were also absent. Hence my questions. When did you leave the room? And for how long were you gone?’
    Miss Budd, who had been following Holmes’ explanation with keen attention, her bright little eyes fixed on his face, nodded her head in confirmation.
    ‘You’re a clever one! Not the official police, are you, dear?No, I thought not. They’d have trampled all over them footmarks without givin’ ’em a second glance. Well, you’re right, whoever you are. I did leave the room towards the end of Mademoiselle’s performance to wait in the wings for ’er with ’er wrapper. It was to put over ’er gown when she came off. Filthy them wings are! She’d only got to brush up against somethin’ to get covered with dust.’
    ‘Was this an habitual routine?’
    ‘If you mean – did I always do it? – then yes, dear, I did.’
    ‘So Mademoiselle Rossignol had, I take it from your answer, played at the Cambridge before?’
    ‘Lots of times. And always top of the bill.’
    ‘When was the second occasion you left the dressing-room, before your return and your discovery of Mademoiselle Rossignol’s body?’
    ‘That was later, after she’d come off stage. She sent me out for ’alf a pint of porter from the Crown next door, same as she always did. Liked ’er drop of porter, did Mademoiselle; said it kept ’er whistle wet. She told me she was goin’ to start gettin’ changed while I was gone ’cos she was due on at the Empire * at the end of the second ’alf, where she was sharin’ top billin’ with Jolly Jack Tarbrush, the Saucy Sailor. That’s why she was on in the first ’alf ’ere. She’d worn that lavender-coloured dress there two weeks before and she ’ad a mind to put on ’er pink instead. Ever so careful, she was, about not wearin’ the same gown too often. Anyways, out I popped to the Crown and when I came back, there she was – stone dead. Give me the shock of me life, I can tell you.’
    ‘And how long were you gone on this occasion?’ Holmes inquired.
    ‘Not more than ’alf a tick.’
    ‘How long exactly is half a tick, pray?’
    ‘A few minutes; five at the most.’
    ‘What did you do when you discovered Mademoiselle Rossignol’s body?’
    ‘What do you think, dear? I let out an ’oller and Badger, the stage-doorkeeper, ’eard me and came runnin’ into the dressin’-room. We ’ad a good look round just in case the murderer was still ’angin’ about but we didn’t find no one.’
    ‘Where did you search?’
    ‘Every bloomin’ where,’ Miss Budd snapped as if the answer should have been obvious. ‘Be’ind the screen and the curtains, even under the dressin’-table but there wasn’t a blessed soul in the place.’
    ‘What happened next?’
    ‘Badger went off to fetch Mr Merriwick and, as I was took bad – the shock, you know, as I’d been with Mademoiselle for these past fifteen years – I ’ad to go outside meself. One of the ’igh-wire ladies, ’er in the silver spangles, took me into ’er dressin’-room and gave me a whiff of smellin’-salts to bring me round.’
    ‘So Mademoiselle Rossignol’s room was left unguarded?’
    ‘Well, I suppose it was,’ Miss Budd conceded. ‘But as it was empty, except for poor Mademoiselle’s body, I don’t see it makes no odds. Anyways, Badger was back within minutes with Mr Merriwick and, as soon as ’e’d took a look round the door, he locked the place up and put the key in ’is pocket. And that’s all I know.’
    ‘Not quite, I think,’ said Holmes. ‘Had Mademoiselle Rossignol any enemies to your knowledge?’
    Miss Budd coloured up immediately, two spots of bright red