Death Treads the Boards

Book 0: The Alexandrian Series

by Lesley Cookman

Genres: Cozy Mystery; Historical Mysteries; Female Sleuths

Synopsis

Summer 1908 The Alexandria introduces a controversial male impersonator to the stage. Played by the very well known Jessie James, this entertainer is very much in the vein of Vesta Tilley. Chased from her home by her strict Baptist father, Jessie has been sent to Dorinda by Amy, the former Lady Washington, now Mrs Jeremy Coutts, who has said that The Alexandria is a good place to hide. But when your act is so unconventional, you can't stay hidden forever.

Release date: June 27, 2019

Publisher: Accent Press

Print pages: 106

Sample

CHAPTER ONE

‘So you see, I thought she might make a good – um – addition to your company.’ Mrs Jeremy Coutts smiled nervously across the desk at Dorinda Alexander.

‘Oh, go on, Dolly.’ Ivy, Lady Anderson, seated next to her friend, leant forward across the desk and poked Dorinda on the arm. ‘You took in that Velda, and Amy here, when they was – were – both in trouble.’

‘And look where that got everybody,’ said Dorinda. ‘I really don’t want to go bringing trouble down on the house any more. I’ve had three lots of trouble in my life already and it sounds as though this – Jessie, is it? – is more of the same.’

‘Jessie Jones,’ confirmed Mrs Coutts – formerly Amelia, Lady Washington, alias Amy West, Music Hall performer.

‘You’ve heard of her, Dolly, ’course you have.’ Ivy gave Dorinda another poke. ‘Doing well, she is. Smaller halls, mainly, but she’s popular.’

Dorinda sighed and looked out of the window at the slope up to Victoria Place. The sun was shining, and as yet few holidaymakers graced the promenade. It was barely the beginning of the season, and The Alexandria Concert Hall hadn’t yet opened. In fact, the company – or concert party, as they were still being called – hadn’t been finalised, so Ivy and Amy’s request was not quite so impossible as she hoped it was. She turned back to her petitioners.

‘If she joins us she will be expected to be part of the ensemble. It won’t be all solo spots. She might not be prepared to do that.’

‘Oh, she is!’ Amy assured her quickly.

‘You’ve told her all about it, have you?’ Dorinda gave her a mocking smile. ‘And I suppose she’s sitting in a carriage just out of sight?’

Ivy and Amy looked at one another guiltily and Dorinda, who hadn’t really thought this was the case, started. ‘Oh, she isn’t! You don’t mean it!’

‘Well, we thought you’d want to see her,’ said Amy. ‘You did me.’

Dorinda subsided into her chair, shaking her head. ‘Ivy, was this your idea?’

‘No, it was mine,’ said Amy. ‘And, er, Maude’s.’

‘Maude?’ Dorinda fairly shrieked. ‘Maude?’

Ivy was on her feet. ‘Calm down, Dolly. She ain’t done nothing wrong.’ Ivy’s accent had a tendency to slip under stress.

The office door opened and Maude Beddowes hovered in the opening. Plump, comfortable-looking and at the moment red-faced with embarrassment, she was Dorinda’s right-hand woman in the company and married to Will, the former leader of the concert party.

Dorinda passed a weary hand over her brow, hiding a smile.

‘Come on, traitor,’ she said. ‘Tell me all.’

‘Oh, I’m sorry, Dolly.’ Maude hurried in and hovered beside the desk. ‘Will and I saw her in London when we was up doing that series of smokers last winter.’

The smokers were private events at which concert party performers could earn money during the off-season.

‘Good, isn’t she?’ Amy turned enthusiastically to Maude. Her accent tended not to slip quite as much as Ivy’s, although they both came from the same East End of London background.

‘Very good. We ’aven’t seen Vesta Tilley, but we was told she was as good as ’er.’ Maude peered into Dorinda’s face, anxious eyebrows raised.

‘Vesta’s something special,’ said Dorinda, who had seen the exceptional lady in question. She stood up. ‘Very well, then. Bring her in, Maude. I take it you actually told her about us?’

‘No, Miss.’ Maude shook her head vigorously. ‘It was Amy – Mrs Courts – ’ere. And Ivy backed’er up.’

‘Since when have you called me “Miss”?’ asked Dorinda. ‘You must be worried! Oh, go on, go and fetch the lady.’

All three women watched Maude hurry up the slope and turn left, and out of sight at the top.

‘Tell me again why she wants to come here?’ Dorinda sat down again.

‘Well.’ Amy sighed. ‘It’s her pa, see. He belongs to one of those chapel groups.’

‘Methodists?’ suggested Dorinda.

‘I don’t know.’ Amy shook her head.

‘They don’t ’old with drink,’ said Ivy, with a sniff. ‘Or anything on the stage.’

‘Temperance Movement?’

‘Dunno,’ said Ivy. ‘I don’t reckon there’s that many o’ them, but they started linin’ up outside the last couple of Halls Jessie was playin’, and in the end she got the sack. Oh, you know: “We don’t like to lose you, but...” And she don’t want to go back to dashin’ between the grubby little supper rooms like they used to.’

‘Is she underage?’ Dorinda was even more wary now.

‘Gawd luv you!’ said Ivy. ‘She’s nineteen! She’s been doin’ this for three or four years now. See it isn’t ’er real pa – it’s ’er step-pa. ’E married ’er ma after Jessie went off to London. Welsh, ’e is.’

‘Ah.’ Dorinda was aware of the strong Chapel movement in Wales. A chapel on every corner, some said, and militant with it. She could imagine how well a male impersonator from the Music Halls would go down with them.

‘And this is her, is it?’

Maude was coming back down the slope, accompanied, a little reluctantly it seemed, by a slight young woman in a plain grey jacket and skirt with a small straw boater on her head.

‘That’s ’er.’ Ivy peered through the window. ‘Not much to look at, is she?’ She grinned at Dorinda. ‘But you wait!’

They heard the main doors open, and after a quick knock on the office door, Maude appeared, triumphant.

‘Miss Jessie Jones, Miss, er, Dolly.’

The small grey person followed Maude into the room. Dorinda stood up and held out a hand.

‘Miss Jones,’ she said with a smile. ‘And you know Lady Anderson and Mrs Coutts, of course.’

Jessie Jones gave her a nervous smile and briefly shook hands.

‘Well, sit down.’ Maude had fetched an extra chair from the foyer and shoved it against the back of Jessie Jones’ legs. She sat down abruptly.

‘I hear you’d like to work for us?’

‘Er – yes.’ The voice, like the person, was small.

‘And you realise it’s mainly ensemble work interspersed with solo spots? You’d be prepared for that?’

‘Oh, yes.’

Dorinda regarded her, head to one side. Jessie began to fidget.

‘I’m a little worried,’ said Dorinda after a moment, ‘about your reasons for wanting to come here.’

Jessie’s mouth dropped open, and after a shocked gasp, Amy and Ivy broke into simultaneous protestations. Dorinda turned to them in some amusement.

‘I know what you’ve told me, ladies, but now I want to hear Jessie tell me herself. This would be a very different life she’d be living.’

Jessie directed panicky eyes at Maude, who frowned at Dorinda.

‘She’s only a kid, Dolly.’

‘And I’m not her mother,’ said Dorinda abruptly. ‘Neither are you, Maude. Jessie has to stand up for herself. I’m sure she had to do that on the halls in London, didn’t you, Jessie?’

’Er, yes.’ Now Jessie wouldn’t meet Dorinda’s eyes.

Dorinda let out an impatient exclamation. ‘Ivy, Amy -are you sure about this?’

Ivy and Amy exchanged glances.

‘Well, we thought so,’ said Ivy.

Dorinda stared out of the window for a moment.

‘So what is it, then, Jessie? What are you not telling me?’ She turned sharply towards the girl, silencing the others with a raised hand. After another moment’s silence she spoke again, less sharply.

‘Jessie, you must see that I can’t take you on if there’s any doubt about your motives or your honesty.’

‘We told you, Dolly,’ Ivy interrupted. ‘It’s her dad. Step-dad.’

‘Is that all it is, Jessie?’ asked Dorinda, watching Jessie’s face go white. She seemed to crumple before her eyes, and Maude hastily stepped forward. Dorinda’s eyes narrowed.

‘Ivy, Amy – could you leave us for a minute?’ She smiled at the two women, who looked indignant, but did as she asked. Maude moved up to sit alongside Jessie and took her hand.

‘Do you know what the trouble is, Maudie?’ Dorinda kept her eyes on Jessie’s face.

‘I guessed a bit of it.’ Maude cleared her throat. ‘You have, too, ain’t you?’

Dorinda nodded, then said gently: ‘He attacked you, didn’t he, Jessie?’

The white face turned bright red.

‘Where was this?’

Jessie had difficulty speaking, but eventually managed. ‘On me way home.’

‘More than once?’ asked Dorinda.

Jessie nodded.

‘Just because of what you were doing for a living?’

‘He said...’ Jessie swallowed. ‘He said...’

‘She didn’t deserve no better,’ put in Maude. ‘So it wasn’t simply a beating?’ said Dorinda.

Maude shook her head.

‘Ah.’ Dorinda looked down at her desk, then stood up and went to the door. Outside, Amy and Ivy stood looking anxious.

‘Come in, ladies.’ Dorinda held the door open for them and they both hurried forward to Jessie.

‘Well now, all we’ve got to decide is whether Jessie keeps her name or we change it.’ Dorinda smiled as four faces looked up hopefully.

‘She can stay then?’ said Ivy.

‘Oh, I think so. But we’ve got to think of the circu. . .