The Final Curtain Read online

  She had had Merle Baxter, her hair stylist, cut her long, auburn hair very short. A perm created a corona of curls that framed her face, making it look much less square. The auburn color was transformed into black, which set off her greenish eyes. When Merle had handed her a mirror, saying, “A new Dani!” an eerie feeling rose suddenly, for it was as if she were looking at a stranger!

  This change alone might have sufficed, but she had worked on makeup and bought two new outfits that made her full figure look slender. When she had walked into the office, even Ben had been impressed—though he had said sardonically, “Well, I’ve always said you wanted to be somebody else, Boss. Looks like you made it.”

  But when she had walked right by Jonathan Ainsley, where he stood waiting to meet her, she had felt a surge of triumph. She had reached out to touch his sleeve, and a look of shock had run across his face as he incredulously asked, “Dani? Is it you?” Laughing excitedly, he had exclaimed, “I said all the time you were born to be an actress!”

  Now, standing in the lobby and looking at her, he insisted, “They’ll never recognize you, Dani. You’ve done a miracle with your looks—now just be a new person inside. Think like Danielle Morgan, a young woman determined to make it to the top in the world of the theater, no matter who you have to trample to do it!”

  “Oh, I don’t think it’s that bad, Jonathan.”

  He lifted his head, his sensitive mouth tightening. “You’ll find out, Dani,” he cautioned. “I may as well warn you that our cast is not a happy little family. Most of us are willing to do anything to reach the top. One of the people you’ll meet inside may be willing to commit murder to do so.”

  “You think one of the cast is trying to kill you?”

  “It’s possible. My world is small, Danielle—and rather vicious. I’ve had to step on a few toes to get where I am. And don’t ask me why I chose people who dislike me to be in my play.” He laughed shortly and as he opened the door, commented grimly, “If I worked only with people who liked me, I’d have to write a play with one character! Now—there’s an idea!”

  He would have said more, but a voice cut in, “Jonathan, we need you in the office before you go inside.” Dani turned to see a young man in his late twenties coming toward them. He had a strong face, interesting rather than handsome, and wore casual and expensive clothes.

  “Not now!” Impatience showed in Ainsley’s face. “What is it, Tom?”

  “Amber—again.”

  Ainsley lifted one eyebrow, then sighed. “Oh, well. Let’s get it over with. Oh, Danielle, this is Thomas Calvin, my business manager. Tom, Danielle Morgan.”

  Dani nodded, and Calvin smiled. “Glad to see you. I assume you’re our new costume person and prompter? Maybe you’d better come along. That’s one of the things Amber’s screaming about.”

  “Yes, come along, Danielle.” Jonathan led the way across the open space, down a short hall, then passed into a door on the left. It was, Dani saw, a spacious office, with heavy green drapes and dominated by a large desk. Several black leather chairs flanked the walls, and just over the desk was a picture of a horse just crazy to jump over fences.

  Two people were in the room, standing stiffly and staring at Ainsley. One was a small, thin man with dark intense features and a small moustache. This, Dani knew from Ainsley, was Simon Nero, the director of the play. He was glaring at Amber LeRoi whom Dani recognized at once. She had seen her in several pictures and admired her flamboyant beauty if not her acting ability. LeRoi had dark hair, brown eyes, and the full lips that came as standard equipment on femmes fatales. She was at least thirty but still exuded the aura of sex that had brought her from the world of pinups to movies. Dani suddenly remembered seeing her on a talk show. It had been the usual mindless conversation, and Amber LeRoi had run true to form by her passionate outcries of rage against her profession, which “used” her. She pointed out that she was more than just a pretty face with a magnificent figure and stated emphatically that she would appear in no more cheap and shoddy roles. Only the best of the legitimate stage for her!

  “Well, Amber, what is it this time?” Dani cast a quick look at Ainsley, noting that he had concealed the irritation he had shown in the lobby. “And can you make it brief? We have a great deal to do tonight.”

  Amber LeRoi lifted her head imperiously. “Jonathan, I’m not at all certain that I can continue with the play. Things have become impossible!” She proceeded to speak for about five minutes, listing the things that would have to be changed before she would agree to go on. Most of them were minor—such as the size of her name on the marquee and improvements in her dressing room that had not been made.

  Ainsley abruptly interjected, “Amber, we can talk about all this later—”

  “We’ll talk about it now!” Amber’s smooth features changed suddenly, and Dani knew at once that under the actress’s beautiful exterior lurked a carnivore. A chilling cruelty invaded her eyes, and her mouth became a steel trap.

  “All right, all right, Amber.” Jonathan turned to Dani, announcing, “This is Danielle Morgan, but you can get acquainted later. Tom, take Danielle with you. Introduce her to the cast—and stall them until we get there. Simon, you’d better stay.”

  “All right, Jonathan.” Neither Simon Nero nor Amber LeRoi gave so much as a nod to Dani.

  As he led her down the hall, Tom apologized. “Sorry you got caught in the crossfire so soon.” He shook his head. “I guess you know about them—Amber and Jonathan?”

  “Not really.”

  “Oh? I thought everyone did. Well, to put the thing bluntly, they were lovers at one time. That sounds like gossip, but it’s common knowledge. Neither of them kept it a secret at the time. Now I guess both would like to forget it.”

  He paused at the door. “It wasn’t a very original sort of romance, Miss Morgan. She’d made a hit as Sadie Thompson in Rain. No actress at all, of course, but sultry as a woman can get. She made several movies—awful things! Jungle movies in which she ran around in the briefest of sarongs and grunted her lines! But she was hot at the box office. And that’s how she got Jonathan.”

  “How was that?”

  “Well, he was unknown until they had a torrid love affair. She put up the money for his first success, a remake of Jane Eyre. I guess you saw it.”

  “Yes. He was the best Mr. Rochester I’ve ever seen.”

  Calvin laughed. “And Amber was the worst Jane, wasn’t she?” He smiled, then sobered. “Anyway, he climbed to the top and got rid of Amber as soon as he could. I guess you noticed that she hates him?”

  “Well, she was fairly obvious, Mr. Calvin.”

  “Tom. Nothing but first names in the theater, Danielle. I guess you’re wondering why he chose her to be his leading lady? Sure, it set us all back. But it’s quite simple, really. Amber’s new boyfriend is Charlie Depalma—and guess who’s bankrolling Out of the Night? Right! But Depalma would only foot the bills if Amber costarred with Jonathan.”

  “Not a very comfortable situation for Jonathan.”

  Tom shrugged. “She never fails to make things hard on him—and on the rest of us.” He suddenly frowned. “I don’t know why I’m telling you all this. You’ll think I’m nothing but a gossipy old lady!” Then he laughed shortly. “I’ll let you find out our hidden flaws by yourself, Danielle. Come along and meet the cast.”

  They passed through the door, and Dani’s first thought was It’s so small! The Pearl was a famous theater, going back to the golden years of Broadway. Like much of the theater district, its surroundings had deteriorated, and it had faced hard times. But so many historic dramas had been birthed behind its proscenium and so many acting giants had graced the Pearl’s stage that popular opinion had kept it from perishing. The smell of paint and fresh nylon permeated the room, for a decorating project was near completion. Painters touched up the white molding that ran along the buff-colored walls, and the gleam of scarlet plush on the seats matched the half-drawn curtain. A balcony stretched alm
ost halfway down the length of the high-ceilinged auditorium, and Dani glanced up at the arching ribs to see a man peering over the lip, his hand on a cluster of spotlights.

  As Calvin walked up the steps leading from the orchestra to the stage, he said, “Well, here we are. Everybody meet the newest addition to our cast. This is Danielle Morgan. We have to wait for Jonathan and Amber, so let me introduce you, Danielle.”

  Dani felt very awkward as every head swung toward her. She glanced at the stage, noting that it was a traditional setting—a richly designed drawing room with a large sofa and several comfortable chairs. The antiques were real, but she had no time to discern more. Calvin led her to a young woman and two men, who sat around a coffee table. The two men got up quickly as Calvin teased with a sly grin, “I don’t know what order to introduce you in. Whoever hasn’t got first billing will get mad.”

  One of the men at the table advised him, “Why not take us according to talent, Tom? That way I’ll be first.” He was a small, young man, no more than five foot seven, but his pale-blue knit shirt revealed an impressive set of muscles. He put his hand out. “I’m Mickey Trask, Danielle. Glad to have you with us.”

  Danielle took his hand, observing that the outside ridge was hard as marble. She knew from Ben Savage what that meant—expert in judo and the martial arts. “It’s good to be here,” she murmured, noting that though Trask had a baby face, an inner toughness revealed itself in a pair of startling blue eyes that missed nothing.

  The other man gave Trask an amused glance, then turned and put his hand out. “I’m Lyle Jamison, Danielle.” He was an extremely handsome man of thirty, a Gentleman’s Quarterly type with capped teeth, brown eyes, and crisp brown hair. He pressed her hand firmly, but shook his head. “I’ll have to confess Tom’s not introducing us according to acting ability. I’m not the best actor here, just the tallest.”

  Dani liked him at once and gave him a smile. “I saw you in the Jared Sullivan series quite often. You were very good in that.”

  Jamison flushed and answered quietly, “Thank you. Not too many remember that one. I hate TV, but in these dark days of the theater it’s any port in a storm.”

  “You have good taste, Danielle. I liked Lyle in that role, too.” The young woman looked up at Dani and continued, “I’m Lily Aumont. I guess if Lyle’s claim to fame is being the tallest here, mine is being the youngest. Doesn’t take any talent at all for that, does it?” She was, Dani decided, no more than eighteen, if that—golden hair, green eyes, and an air of innocence that could be real or assumed. Dani nodded, murmured that she was pleased, then turned to the next group.

  It was typical of her analytical mind that she would classify the members of the cast into groups: group 1, two men and one woman; group 2, two men and one woman; group 3, one man and one woman. Eight in all, and she fixed the names, the faces, and the impressions that came to her as she met the members of group 2, which she divined at once were of lesser standing than the members of group 1. They huddled together by a fireplace, looking at her carefully.

  “This is Carmen Rio, Danielle. She’s our makeup lady and plays the part of Rosa Varga in the play.” Carmen Rio reminded Danielle of a youthful Dolores del Rio, the fabulously beautiful Mexican star of the thirties. She had the same cool, smooth beauty. Her dark eyes, however, were hot with resentment. “Some role!” she muttered. “A chambermaid!”

  “Better than mine,” the trim black man standing beside her said, but a cheerful humor lit up his thin face. He nodded to Danielle and said in a thick dialect right out of a minstrel show: “I’se de darkie, Miss Danielle, who am de body servant of Massa King—yessum!” He shrugged and enunciated naturally and perfectly, “Well, I don’t do that fake black English as well as Mickey over there. But I’m glad to see you.”

  Tom Calvin glanced at the black man and said quickly, “I guess if it’s raw talent you’re looking for, Trey Miller has as much as anybody. He designed this set—which will be a shoo-in for best set design when the awards are handed out next year.” Then he added, “And this is Ringo Jordan. He’s the heavy in the play. Looks the part, too.”

  Jordan did look like a traditional heavy from an old gangster film. He gave Calvin a brief look out of a pair of the coldest gray eyes Danielle had ever seen, then turned to study her. He was a hulking man of at least six feet two and must have weighed 235 pounds. In his broad scarred face his nose was flattened and one ear thickened.

  Must have been a prizefighter, Danielle assumed.

  Jordan made no offer to shake hands, but saw that she was looking at his face. “Linebacker for the Giants,” he commented briefly. Then he turned his back, picked up a glass from the mantel, and ignored everyone.

  Tom Calvin looked at the huge man’s back, an irritated expression in his eyes. “Always a pleasure to have Ringo turn on the charm,” he snapped. Forcing a grin, he reminded her, “Just one, happy family, Danielle, but come along and meet the real actors in the play.”

  Dani turned and took two steps—then faltered as her glance found the man and woman who were sitting together on a love seat, stage left. She spoke their names involuntarily in a whisper: “Why it’s Sir Adrian and Lady Lockridge!”

  Both the man and the woman smiled at her response. “I’m afraid we are,” Sir Adrian said, rising to his feet. He took her hand and kissed it in an eloquent gesture, then gave his wife a sly glance. “Now, Victoria, my dear, you’re going to forgive me for being drawn to such youth and beauty.”

  “I’d send for the mortician if you didn’t flirt with this lovely creature, Adrian.” Lady Lockridge did not rise; she offered her hand to Danielle in the manner of Queen Victoria. “Charmed to have you, my dear.”

  Danielle could not help staring at the pair—for they were living history. Living history of the drama, at least. Sir Adrian Lockridge was at least sixty, but he was no less handsome, with his regal bearing, aristocratic features, and silver hair, than he had been as a young, dark-haired idol of the stage. He had never achieved the stature of Laurence Olivier or Ralph Richardson, but his stage version of Macbeth, when he was only twenty-three, had electrified audiences. Danielle had a video of the film version, which some critics insisted was the finest Shakespearean production ever presented—on or off the stage.

  “I never thought to meet you,” Danielle whispered. “You’ve given me so much pleasure!”

  Lady Lockridge’s cold blue eyes warmed as she looked at the young woman. She had never been a great actress, playing only small roles until she married Adrian. Since then her mission had been, Danielle had read, to help him become the premier actor on planet earth. Now she put her hand on her husband’s arm, saying with a slight smile, “It’s very good to hear such things, Miss Morgan.” Her eyes grew cold, and she looked across the room at the other members of the cast. “There are some who are not so appreciative of real dramatic talent!”

  A chill fell across the room, and Danielle didn’t miss the angry glances thrown by several members of the cast toward the Lockridges. But just at that moment, Ainsley’s voice broke the silence: “All right, let’s get the show on the road!” He came dashing up the steps and took a position at center stage, followed by Amber and Simon Nero.

  “Sorry to be late,” he apologized. He looked around at their faces and waited until the shifting of feet and the muttering fell silent. Dani’s gaze moved swiftly from face to face. Jonathan Ainsley was a man who would excite strong feelings; most would either admire him or despise him, depending on the nature of relationships. In Group 1, she noted that Lyle Jamison could not hide his dislike for the man. Lily Aumont, on the other hand, kept her youthful face trained on Ainsley with obvious adoration. Mickey Trask seemed neutral, but it was difficult to read his baby face.

  In Group 2, Carmen Rio stared at Ainsley with an enigmatic expression. The dark-haired beauty seemed to consume the man with her eyes, yet some sort of anger appeared in the set of her full red lips. A love-hate look if I ever saw one, Dani told herself. Then
she saw Carmen’s gaze go to Lily Aumont, and pure animosity lit her face.

  She hates Lily. I wonder why? Dani puzzled.

  Trey Miller’s rigid face seemed only a bit less than natural. He’s probably gotten to be an expert in hiding his feelings from others, Dani decided. But he’s frightened, I think.

  Ringo Jordan had turned to face Ainsley. He was a menacing figure with his head held low, his pale-gray eyes steady and fixed. I’d hate to have been a running back looking across the line at Jordan! was Dani’s first impression. He looks like a killer—but no, killers often look like poets or plumbers. Sometimes the most awful-looking types are gentle as lambs.

  Danielle looked across the stage at Sir Adrian. The frozen expression on his face spoke more eloquently than rage. No love lost between Sir Adrian—and his wife looks as if she’d like to kill Jonathan, Dani thought. Lady Lockridge was staring at Ainsley with narrowed eyes. Her lips were compressed, and her hands were clenched tightly together.

  Well, so much for imitating Sherlock Holmes! Dani thought wryly. He’d have taken one look at this crowd and known everything about them—and which one of them was out to get Ainsley. I never believed in that old bore, anyway!

  “This is the second of March. In three days we have to have a dress rehearsal. We open March 14. And we’re as far from having a performance on our hands as I’ve ever seen from a cast in my entire career.” Jonathan’s deep-set eyes flashed, and his voice, though it never grew loud, carried the impatience. Going around the room, he pointed out the flaws of almost every member of the cast. He had a satirical gift, and used it cruelly, cutting and slashing as if with a rapier. Soon every actor and actress on the stage was white faced and tight lipped. Amber LeRoi he didn’t mention, the Lockridges escaped with a slight rebuke, and Lily Aumont got only a nod. Lyle Jamison stood facing Ainsley as if before a firing squad. He came in for the most vicious attacks, but Ringo Jordan, Mickey Trask, and Trey Miller also got their share of public humiliation.