Bryant led the way inside, past a skeleton in an iron gibbet. ‘They’re geared up for parties,’ he explained, pointing to a table laden with wine and glasses.
‘Wait a minute, who’s paying for all this?’
‘I got it out of petty cash. Listen, Raymond, I wouldn’t be doing this if I thought there was any other way. I think the killer has finished his work but won’t be able to resist turning up for one last gloat. Robert Kramer was made to suffer and now he’s finally dead. I should have been able to save him. I should have acted on my instincts but I held back.’
‘For once I really wish you’d done something crazy earlier,’ Land admitted.
‘This is our last chance. You’ve seen this sort of thing before, people who turn up to watch the ambulance services removing the bodies of the victims they’ve killed, murderers who stand by as the houses they’ve set alight burn down. Our killer shared his victim’s sense of the macabre—that’s why he continued to use the puppets. Tonight we will get to the truth, or the Unit will go down trying.’
A few minutes later, just as Bryant had predicted, the guests began turning up. The show’s female lead, Della Fortess, was still in her closing scene costume, a black diamanté basque hidden by a long red overcoat.
Neil Crofting, the veteran actor who had been Mona Williams’s best friend, looked years younger in jeans and a sweatshirt.
By contrast, Marcus Sigler, the male lead of The Two Murderers, looked sickly and unwell.
Unsurprisingly, Judith Kramer was putting in an appearance under sufferance.
Ray Pryce was already inside, helping May to learn his lines.
The director, Russell Haddon, turned up with an extremely young woman on his arm who was protruding from her miniscule dress and appeared to be under the mistaken impression that she was attending some kind of a premiere.
Ella Maltby, the set designer and props wizard, strolled in as if she was coming home, and in a sense she was.
The wardrobe master, Larry Hayes, arrived with his suspiciously pretty male assistant.
The corpulent Hard News critic, Alex Lansdale, came with his publisher, Janet Ramsey.
Lastly, Mohammad al-Nahyan (carpenter) and Jolie Christchurch (front of house) arrived together.
Just before the doors were shut, Gail Strong made her entrance alone. She looked lost and far less confident than she had a week earlier at Robert Kramer’s party.
‘Who are all these extra people?’ Land asked. ‘I thought you’d only invited the suspects.’
‘I invited everyone from the office to make up numbers and be on hand if there was trouble,’ said Bryant. ‘Plus, they heard there was a party.’
‘Obviously we had to invite everyone who was there on the night Noah Kramer was killed,’ said Ray. ‘It would have looked really odd just to have half a dozen people sitting under statues of torturers, drinking cheap white wine.’
‘I’m sorry,’ Bryant apologised. ‘The Unit budget wouldn’t run to good plonk.’
‘Well, now what happens?’ Land demanded.
‘We crank up the music and let them get a few glasses down. Then John makes his announcement.’
At first, the guests stood uncomfortably beneath the exhibits, keeping to their usual groups while John May and Ray Pryce circulated between them. Bryant sat at the back of the room watching carefully. Russell Haddon’s girlfriend was called Naida, and seemed to be drunk already. Gail Strong and Marcus Sigler were most noticeably different. They stayed clear of each other, and seemed to be eyeing everyone else with suspicion.
May checked his watch and turned to Bryant. ‘Okay, let’s get this started.’
Ray Pryce stepped up onto the low dais that stood at the rear of the room and called for everyone’s attention.
‘Ladies and gentlemen, I know it seems odd to be having a party without Robert here to play host, but, in spite of the week’s extraordinary events, we couldn’t let the production close without marking the occasion in some way. The Unit detectives investigating these dreadful deaths were anxious to meet with you so that they could make themselves accountable and answer as many of your questions as possible. I’m sure you’re anxious to know what happened to Robert, and where the police now stand with regard to ending the investigation. They’ll be at your disposal during the course of the evening, and they hope that by doing this we can achieve some sense of closure and be able to move on with our lives. I’ve been asked to explain that anything said in this room tonight will operate under Chatham House Rules—in other words, all information goes no further than here.’
‘That goes particularly for you, Janet,’ said Bryant, noticing the editor of Hard News, who looked furious.