A Midsummer Night's Scream

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    The play had been promoted as a “whimsical 1930s-style mystery,“ but the only thing approaching humor, much less whimsy, were the remarks that the butler made to the audience. Everybody found them funny. Imry was furious, of course. The last thing he’d said to the cast was that Cecil, the butler, wasn’t to improvise.
    The costumes looked fabulous and even Jane felt compelled to tell Tazz what a great job she’d done. It was hard to find her. Tazz had deliberately stayed as far away from Jane and Shelley as she could. She hadn’t even turned up for the party in the lobby.
    Ms. Bunting was by far the best thing about the play. She played Edina Weston with wry dignity and energy, and was clearly the star. John Bunting actually seemed almost sober. He said all his lines without slurring a single word. He didn’t have to put his hand on the back of the sofa or his elbow on the mantel to keep himself upright.
    Jane knew Ms. Bunting had to have been responsible for this unusual behavior, and wondered how she’d kept him from drinking.
    When the play ended, the small audience seemed surprised. There was some muttering. Jane overheard one of Ms. Chance’s contributors saying, “This must be fixed, Evelyn. There’s no resolution to the plot. Why did the butler murder the younger son?“
    Ms. Chance said, “You should have read the script I sent you early on. There could have been a better ending if supporters of the theater had spoken up sooner.“
    “She can’t wiggle out that easily,“ Jane whispered to Shelley. “She’ll probably never get more funding for anything from him.“
    “Serves her right,“ Shelley whispered back. “She could have influenced Imry to fix it. She was the only person he had reason to be afraid of.“
    The curtain calls were interesting. When the characters, in reverse order of importance, came on the stage, Bill Denk, the butler, was cheered, and the clapping went on for a long time—especially considering he had so few lines.
    But when Ms. Bunting, elegant and smiling, came on stage, there was a standing ovation.
    Flowers were brought on stage for her. A dozen red roses.
    “We should have sent her flowers,“ Jane said.
    “I’ve already ordered them for the opening night tomorrow. I wonder who these are from?“
    “I’d guess they’re from her daughter as a special early surprise. At least I hope so,“ Jane said.
    As they followed the limited audience to the lobby, they overheard other complaints about the unsatisfactory ending of the play. The wives of some of the crew had been present. The prop master had brought along his daughter and her small son, who had fallen sound asleep within the first half hour. The scene painters were allowed to be in the audience with their girlfriends.
    Before going home, Jane and Shelley went backstage to tell Ms. Bunting how good she’d been.
    In the background, they could all hear Ms. Chance berating Professor Imry. “You’re going to have a long night, young man. You’re going to have to rewrite that ending. The investors who pitched in to help the college fund this are in revolt. Either change the victim and perpetrator, or figure out an explanation for why the butler would kill the younger son. It makes no sense.“
    Jane, Shelley, and Ms. Bunting were all smiling at this rant.
    Jane had to ask, “Who were the roses from?“
    “My daughter. She always does this. Giving me something to enjoy before the actual performance, no matter where it is. She’s wonderful.“
    “We have to go home now,“ Shelley said, still grinning. “My car is full of leftovers from the party, and I need to get them in the fridge soon.“
    “Will you be back tomorrow?“ Ms. Bunting asked.
    “Probably just for the last act,“ Jane said. “To see how it ends the next time.“
    They all laughed.
    Mel hadn’t watched the dress rehearsal except for the last scene. He’d been at his office tying up some loose ends on another case that had just cropped up that afternoon. It involved one of those stupid criminals who didn’t leave the scene quickly enough.
    A skinny, weedy young man had burgled a house and walked out the front door with all the family’s silver in a burlap bag. There he was confronted by the burly owner of the house, who had a big loop of rope he was going to use to make a swing in the backyard for his kids. The guy tied the perp up with the rope while his wife called the police to fetch the burglar.
    Mel got the call