Cue For Murder полностью

“It has a certain appeal for a psychiatrist, too,” admitted Basil. “The Viennese School collected a good bit of evidence suggesting that a man who fails to meet one situation in life adequately will go on through his whole life repeating the same failure each time he is confronted with a similar situation. In most cases habit is far stronger than the lessors of experience, possibly because the psychic factors that formed the habit in the first place are always there to support it and continue it. Of course this tendency to repeat is even more marked in neurotics and criminals.”

“And in murderers?” Hutchins’ smile had a fine edge. “Now you see why I don’t like the idea of going on with Fedora. I certainly wouldn’t care to take Ingelow’s place as Vladimir!”

“I understand that Vladimir will be played by some actor who was not in the original company,” replied Basil. “That ought to eliminate any motive for a second murder, and it would certainly involve great risk to the murderer.”

“That’s entirely reasonable but—I still don’t like the idea. People say we stage folk are superstitious. How can we help it when our success depends so much on chance? You can never predict whether a play will succeed or not until after the first night, and sometimes not even then. It’s all a gamble, and we all have a gambler’s psychology.”

Basil saw an opportunity to ask another question without appearing to attach much importance to it. “It seems all the more strange that Milhau should revive Fedora this season,” he said in his most casual voice. “So far as I could tell from the first act, the play has nothing in it to appeal to a modern audience. Do you know what first put it into his head?”

“I believe that Wanda wanted to play the part.” Hutchins answered as if he saw no significance in the question. “I don’t know just where she got the idea. But I don’t agree with you that the play is dead. I think it has far more vitality than some of the modern amorphous tripe—” He stopped himself with a smile. “I don’t suppose tripe can be called amorphous.” His glance went to Basil’s hat lying on the bed. “What do you call that?”

“A gray felt hat.”

“Yes, and what else?”

“A soft felt hat.”

“And?”

Basil laughed. “A fedora!”

“Exactly. That gives you some idea of how popular the play was originally. If you could have seen Bernhardt do it you might understand.”

“Was it you who told Wanda Morley the anecdote about Edward VII playing Vladimir to Bernhardt’s Fedora?”

“Yes.” Hutchins’ face sobered. “Leonard Martin had heard it from someone, and one day at rehearsal he asked me if it were true. Wanda overheard us talking and asked about it. That must be how she got the idea of having Ingelow play Vladimir. In a way it makes me feel responsible for what happened. Dr. Willing, I wish you’d persuade Sam Milhau to give up this idea of going on with Fedora. Have you any idea why he insists on it?”

“Partly because he’s found a backer,” explained Basil without naming the backer. “And he wants to recover the money he’s invested in costumes, scenery, salaries, and so forth.”

“Is there any other reason?” demanded Hutchins shrewdly.

“I think he imagines it’s the best way to safeguard the reputation of his cast—particularly Miss Morley’s reputation. The official story as it appears in the papers by grace of his publicity department seems to be that Ingelow was just a casual acquaintance of Miss Morley’s and that his murder has nothing to do with her or any members of her company. The best way to prove that is to have her go on with the same play as if nothing had happened.”

“But obviously some member of the cast is the murderer!”

Basil shrugged. “So long as the murder is unsolved everyone is presumed innocent. Perhaps Milhau has some idea that going on with the play will keep the actors psychologically steady—like sending an aviator up in a plane directly after an accident.”

“If I know anything about Milhau he has no such altruistic motive,” returned Hutchins, bitterly. “His only idea is to make money out of the morbid curiosity of the general public, and he will. People will flock to see the first act that was performed when Ingelow was killed just because they’ll be reasonably sure that one of the actors on the stage is Ingelow’s murderer. This is more of Milhau’s literal realism. What a thrill to see a real murderer on the stage in a murder play that led to a real murder! But it won’t be very pleasant for us on the stage to know that we’re rubbing elbows with a murderer, especially when we don’t know which one he or she is.”

Basil decided not to tell Hutchins that there was a fourth suspect—Margot Ingelow. And that again she would have access to the stage—this time as backer of the play.

“Do you think any actors will resign from the cast?” queried Basil.