Sidney Chambers and The Shadow of Death (The Grantchester Mysteries)

Keating. Cambridge police. I was in the audience at the time.’
    ‘On duty?’
    ‘Incognito.’
    ‘See anything?’
    ‘Nothing conclusive.’
    ‘Everyone still here?’
    ‘There’s an exit by the bar that we secured. The fire exit is behind the stage. Apart from that there’s a small window in the toilet but no one could get through that. It’s just as well there wasn’t a fire.’
    ‘They should close this place down. So, as far as you know, the murderer is still in the building?’
    ‘He is.’
    ‘He?’
    ‘Or she.’
    ‘I can count on your assistance?’
    ‘Of course. My friend Canon Sidney Chambers may also be of service.’
    ‘I think this is best left to the professionals, don’t you?’
    Sidney took a step back as Williams continued. ‘I can’t imagine a clergyman being good for anything except this poor girl’s funeral.’
    ‘You’d be surprised,’ Keating intervened.
    Williams was keen to press on. ‘When do you think the crime took place?’
    ‘We think it must have been during the drum solo. The noise proved a distraction . . .’
    ‘In my experience that’s when most people head for the Gents.’
    ‘This audience clearly wanted to stay.’
    ‘Apart from the murderer. There are some familiar enough faces in the crowd. I’ve spent half my life locking these people up and out they come like cockroaches.’
    Gloria Dee walked up and asked. ‘Have you found the torpedo?’
    ‘The what?’
    ‘The hit man.’
    ‘We’ve only just arrived.’
    ‘How long are we gonna have to hang around?’
    ‘All night, madam,’ Inspector Williams replied.
    ‘I’m used to late, and I’m real sorry for the girl. Sorrier than I can say. But if you’ve got questions can you ask us first? We have to play tomorrow.’
    ‘I’m not so sure about that, madam. We may have to close this place down for a few days.’
    ‘Then how am I supposed to live? They don’t pay if we don’t play.’
    Williams had no time for the questions of other people. ‘This is a murder investigation. We can start our inquiries with you and let you go home. Clearly you are some kind of performer . . .’
    ‘Let me straighten your wig right off. I’m not “some kind”. I’m Gloria Dee.’
    ‘I don’t care who you are. I must follow procedure. We have, at the very least, to get the names and addresses of every person here and establish where they were at the time of the murder. I hear that you were in the audience.’
    ‘I was hitting all sixes, scattin’ away as the boys were playin’. Everyone was havin’ a good time. Then it all went to hell. No matter how many times this kinda thing happens, it still gets to you.’
    ‘You mean this has occurred before?’ Sidney asked. He knew that jazz and violence shared a mutual history. He remembered reading about the stabbing of the bandleader James Reese Europe, and of Chano Pozo, the percussionist killed in a bar-room brawl.
    ‘We’re jazz people. There’s nothin’ I aint seen.’
    ‘Then perhaps you can help?’ Keating asked.
    ‘I don’t know nothin’ ’bout nothin’. I’m just sore the baby got herself killed.’
    ‘Can you think why?’ Inspector Williams continued.
    ‘Why you askin’ me? You’re the police.’
    ‘I’m interested in your opinion.’
    Gloria sighed. ‘If a broad moves in a world of men and darkness she has to watch out. She can’t trust no cat. Maybe the baby turned a man down and he didn’t take it good, or she saw somethin’ she shouldn’t have. Perhaps her Daddy was up to somethin’. It’s got to be love or money. Those things go together the whole damn time.’
    Sidney spoke in the silence. ‘I can’t understand how something so violent could happen to a girl like her . . .’
    ‘I’m not sayin’ it’s her fault . . .’
    The inspector returned to his questions. ‘Whom did you come with tonight?’
    ‘Just the band. Tony on skins, Milo on bass, Jay Jay on piano.’
    ‘Anyone else?’
    ‘There’s Liza, Tony’s girlfriend. She’s around somewhere, and Justin, our driver. He’s a dewdropper.’
    Williams was not interested in finding out that a dewdropper was a man who stayed up all night. ‘Are they still here?’
    ‘I hope so. I need to get back to the hotel.’
    ‘Where are you from?’
    ‘I’ve been around. New Orleans. New York City.’
    ‘When are you going back?’
    ‘In a few weeks. I hope you’re not wantin’ me to stay. I have dates at Minton’s.’
    ‘Minton’s?’ Williams