Body on the Stage Page 11

  “OK,” said Jack. “Write down his full name, address, and every detail you know about him. The licence plate of his car would be useful, that kind of thing.” He passed Cathy a sheet of paper and a pen. She read off some details from her phone and noted them down, then frowned.

  “The rest of the information I have is in the gym office. Should I get it now, or can I email it to you tomorrow?”

  “Tomorrow is fine. It’s still unofficial at this point, but if he doesn’t show up tomorrow we can file a Missing Persons Report and make it official. I’ll need the other information for that.” He smiled kindly, his eyes crinkling at the corners “Try not to worry, Cathy. If he’s still in town, he shouldn’t be too hard to find. Whetford’s a pretty small place.”

  “Thanks so much, Jack, I feel better already. I didn’t want to just leave it and hope he turned up, but I’d have felt silly going down to the police station with so little information to go on. Telling you feels like the right thing to do.”

  “Happy to help,” he said. “Would you like to stay for a coffee or a glass of wine?”

  “Yes, go on,” said Jessica. “We’ve got decaf if it’s too late for real coffee, and we won’t give you enough wine to stop you from driving, I promise.”

  Dennis and Cathy looked at each other. He waited for her cue.

  “That would be lovely,” she said. “A coffee with friends is just what I need right now, thank you. Is that OK with you Dennis?”

  He almost blurted something stupid like ‘whatever makes you happy, dear’ but caught himself in time. It was amazing how quickly he had slipped into a pattern of almost domestic interaction with her after so many months of living alone.

  “A cup of coffee would be great, thank you.” He settled back on the sofa, feeling the gentle warmth of Cathy’s thigh against his. For the first time since Louise had left him, he felt comfortable and at home in the company of friends.

  Jessica disappeared into the kitchen where they could hear the purr of the kettle and a promising clink of crockery.

  “Cathy, you run the gym that’s training the actors, don’t you? How’s that going?” Jack leaned back in his armchair and crossed his long legs.

  “It’s pretty good, isn’t it Dennis?” She looked to him for agreement. “Dennis is training alongside the actors just to get fit, so he sees even more of them than I do. They’re building up quite well, aren’t they?”

  “Yes, very well. I only wish I could get the results they’re getting. Warwick looks amazing now, and Ricky is just a little powerhouse. All I’m doing is trying to shrink a bit, but they’re transforming into calendar-fodder for muscle magazines.”

  She laughed. “You’ll get there in time. Don’t forget they had a good head start on you.”

  And possibly some chemical assistance as well, he thought. “How about you, Jack?” he asked. “How do you stay in shape? Does the job keep you pretty active?”

  “Oh yes,” he said. “I’m forever chasing crims down dark alleys and hurdling fences in a single bound. Stopping riots takes a lot of energy too.”

  “Don’t believe a word of it,” said Jessica, placing a tray of mugs on the coffee table. “He’s a desk jockey most of the time, doesn’t lift anything heavier than a stapler. It’s only my efforts in the kitchen that keep him looking like a greyhound. He’s lucky to burn enough calories just by walking half an hour a day when the rest of us have to really work for it.”

  She handed out mugs, offered milk and sugar, and told them to help themselves to nibbles from the plate in the centre of the tray. “Low fat, low sugar, natural fruit filled muesli bars – guaranteed not to put an ounce of fat on you.”

  “So you do have help with keeping thin, Jack,” said Dennis. “It’s much easier when you have someone else policing the contents of your kitchen cupboard. I found that really hard at the start but I’m getting used to it now.”

  “It’s just a matter of building new habits,” said Cathy. “Do anything for three months and it’ll become a normal part of your lifestyle.”

  “Ha! If it’s anything like the theatre it takes over your lifestyle in about three weeks!” said Jessica. “It’s the most addictive thing I know, outside of certain illegal substances, of course.”

  “It does rather fill up your free time,” said Jack, “considering they only pay you from nine to five. But it’s a labour of love for you, isn’t it?” He smiled at her affectionately. “I knew you were besotted with the place when you almost let a woman knife you rather than create a disturbance during a show.” He shook his head. “Mad, completely mad.”

  “Does, that, er, happen often?” asked Dennis.

  “No,” said Jessica firmly. “That was a one-off. Normally the nearest we get to crime down there is if a party gets out of hand and a few seats get broken. Don’t worry, you’ll be safe with us. It’s probably less dangerous than the gym with all those heavy weights lying around and things to pull muscles on.”

  “Hey,” protested Cathy, “I run a tight ship at Intensity. Our accident record is spotless. You should come along and give us a try, if you’re up for it. If you want to put your money where your mouth is.”

  Jack laughed. “You let yourself fall into that one, Jess! Looks like you’d better dig out your leotard and do some aerobics!”

  Both women rounded on him.

  “How old are you?”

  “What century are you living in?”

  “OK, OK, go work out or do some group fitness classes – whatever!” He shook his head. “You know what I meant. Is it my fault the terminology keeps changing?”

  “Poor old soul,” said Jessica, ruffling his hair. “It’s so hard to keep up with the young people these days, isn’t it?”

  “You just wait, my darling. You’ll need my help again at your precious theatre one of these days and then let’s see who has the upper hand, eh?” His eyes twinkled.

  “Yes, dear. Whatever you say, dear.”

  The next day there was still no sign of Vincenzo, so Cathy went along to the police station to take the paperwork to the next level. She gave them all the information she had and was assured the normal trace routines would be set in motion straight away. She returned to the gym and dived into some paperwork to stop herself from worrying. Even dealing with the accounts would be better than trying to decide whether to replace Vincenzo or just wait until he turned up, however long that might take.

  Mid-afternoon Dennis got a text message. ‘Come and see me at gym tonite please. Cathy.’ He texted back to confirm and spent the next couple of hours wondering what she needed. Several times he pulled out his phone to ring her, but decided she probably had her hands full with teaching extra classes and wouldn’t want to be interrupted.

  Straight after work he hurried round to Intensity, running up the stairs at full speed and going straight to her office.

  “Hi Cathy, what’s up? Is everything OK?” He rested a hand against the doorframe and assessed her appearance. Her skin was paler than usual, the freckles standing out in contrast. Shadows lurked under her eyes, and several frown lines had deepened since he saw her last.

  “How good are you with accounting programs?” she asked quietly.

  “I’ve got a pretty sound working knowledge of the major ones. Why, are you still having trouble?”

  “I can’t make sense of the bottom line figures. There are amounts among the spreadsheet rows that don’t show up at the end. All I can think of is that something has got through the firewall and jumbled the figures up just for the hell of it. Are there viruses that can do that? Or a hacker?”

  Dennis frowned. “That sounds serious. I haven’t come across anything like that, but it’s not to say they don’t exist. Here, let me get at your computer and I’ll have a look.”

  Cathy pushed her chair back and stood up, stretching the kinks from her lower back. “Ooh – I’ve been hunched over that damn screen for too long. You have a go. But only briefly, OK? I don’t want to interrupt your workout.”


  He gave her a look intended to convey that her problems were far more important than his exercise schedule.

  “Let’s see what we’re dealing with here.” He cast an eye over the spreadsheet, checking totals as he went. “I see what you mean. Looks good at first glance but there’s definitely something wrong.”

  “I’m glad it’s not just me going insane,” she said. “But then again, it means something’s not right with the gym’s accounts and that’s just as worrying.”

  Dennis did a quick check on Google for viruses and their effects but didn’t find anything that matched Cathy’s scenario.

  “Who has access to your computer? Just you, or do other staff members use it?” He wanted to hear that only Vincenzo had unrestricted access. This could be the hard evidence against him that Cathy needed.

  “It’s available for any of my team to use when I’m teaching or when I’m not using it myself. I suppose that’s not very sensible when it’s being used for running everything, is it?”

  “Not really, but you have to work with what you’ve got sometimes.” He swung round in the chair to face her. “Do you do online banking on this machine?”

  Her eyes widened. “Yes.”

  “Have you checked all your accounts recently?” He said it as calmly as he could but saw her face turn even paler. She lunged towards the keyboard and typed frantically, pushing him aside with her hip. The bank website popped up, she put in her passwords, and scrolled through the account balances as she bent over the desk.

  “The main account is fine, savings account is fine, credit card is about right…oh my God.” Her voice went up. “The tax account should have thirty grand in it ready for this year’s provisional tax payment, and it’s gone.” She pulled up the account details with shaking hands. “Look at this. A heap of deposits that don’t belong there, taking it up to a hundred and twelve thousand, then a series of withdrawals up until a few days ago.” She turned to him, stricken. “How did you think to look for that?”

  “Just a hunch from seeing how sums were being moved around. If someone was stealing from you, the amounts would have to go somewhere accessible to get them out of the system and that seemed the most logical way to do it without it being noticed straight away.”

  He moved swiftly out of the chair and guided her down into it as her knees buckled. “Here, put your head down and breathe slowly. That’s it – take it easy.” He rubbed her back gently. “Don’t worry, we’ll sort it out. It’s OK.” He felt her draw in a shuddering breath. When she straightened up at last, there was suddenly steel in her voice.

  “If Vincenzo did this I will track him down and eviscerate him!” She turned to Dennis, her blue eyes flashing. “It has to be why he’s disappeared. That slimy little toad has been ripping me off and I never suspected a thing. Arrrgh!” She got up, paced, and kicked a filing cabinet in her frustration, leaving a dent in the metal. “We have to find him! My business can’t survive a loss like this. Once that provisional tax payment is due the money HAS to be there. The Inland Revenue department won’t waive their vicious penalties just because some smarmy Italian took advantage of me.”

  “There is one good thing,” offered Dennis. “I expect the police will be more enthusiastic about tracing him now he’s apparently committed a substantial fraud.”

  She brightened. “You’re right! Good point! You always manage to make me feel better.” She hugged him, and for a long moment he enjoyed the feel of her body against his. He hoped she was drawing as much strength and comfort from the touch as he was. A gentle fragrance of apple blossom lingered as she broke away and sat back down at the desk. “I suppose I should phone Jack, or maybe the police station?”

  “Let’s try Jack first since he knows what you’re talking about. He can pass the details on to the right people.”

  “Good thinking, Batman.” She smiled up at him. “Now go and do your workout. I don’t want to feel guilty that I’m interfering with your progress towards hunkdom. I can take it from here.”

  “OK, if you’re sure you’re all right.” He rested a hand on her shoulder. “Just let me know if there’s anything I can do to help – anything at all.”

  She put warm fingers over his and squeezed. “Thanks, I really appreciate how much you’ve done for me already. It’s good to know I can count on you.”

  As he entered the locker room he found Warwick and Jayden getting changed for their workout session. Warwick had bulked up far more than his training partner, and Dennis wondered if Jayden had queried why they were getting such varied results.

  “How’s it going, guys?” he asked. Warwick just grunted, but Jayden seemed more forthcoming.

  ‘Pretty good thanks. I’ll never look like the Incredible Hulk here but then some women prefer a more natural look, don’t they?”

  “What the hell? Are you saying I’m unnatural?” Warwick growled. “How’d you like a weight bar shoved where the sun don’t shine? I’ve worked bloody hard to build these muscles and you’re sitting there insulting me? Well screw you!” He slammed the locker door with enough force to bend it and stormed out of the room.

  “Oh hell,” sighed Jayden. “He’s getting awfully hard to work out with these days. I hate to think what he’ll be like come show time. They say when you cut up for performance your temper gets really bad.”

  “Cut up?”

  “It’s when you deplete your carbs to bring out the shape of the muscle. It’s brutal, man, and then for the actual performance time you stop drinking as well so you’re dehydrated to make the muscles even more pronounced. Most people get pretty crabby when they’re hungry and thirsty and their blood sugar is really low.”

  “Surely you guys won’t have to do all that, will you?” Dennis was aghast. “It sounds like a horrendous thing to do to your body. Isn’t it dangerous?”

  “Only if you do it for too long or too often,” Jayden shrugged. “Maybe Adam won’t be that concerned about our shape for the show, but if we were competing in a body-building contest that’s what we’d do.”

  “Rather you than me.” Dennis shuddered. “Anyway, while you’re here, did you see anything of Vincenzo on Wednesday night? He seems to have pulled a fast one and skipped town – Cathy’s a bit worried about it.”

  “No, can’t say I noticed him much. He’s an annoying little creep as far as I’m concerned and I try to keep away from him. Thinks he’s God’s gift to the world, that one. I won’t be sorry if he’s decided to leave. Hopefully Cathy can find someone to replace him though, otherwise she’ll be struggling.”

  “OK, thanks Jayden. Enjoy your workout – and good luck with Warwick.”

  Dennis pulled on his shorts and T-shirt and went to look for Mark, hoping his own workout partner would be in a better frame of mind.

  He found Mark hanging from a pull-up bar with a twenty kilogram weight dangling from his belt. His face was red and contorted as he pulled himself up and his arms were shaking when he dropped to the ground.

  “How’s it going?” said Dennis cautiously.

  “Fine,” he panted. “You?”

  “Yeah, good as gold thanks. Upper body today then? Yell out when you want me to spot for you.” Mark towelled his face dry and nodded. Dennis moved to the nearby chest press machine and waited until Mark looked able to speak. “Hey, did you see what happened to Vincenzo on Wednesday night? He’s done a runner, apparently, and Cathy’s trying to track him down.”

  “Didn’t see anything.”

  Mark turned away, dried his hands for a few moments and tackled the pull-up bar again. Dennis shrugged and began his set, pushing the handles forward with quiet determination. Perhaps Mark would feel more like talking after their workout.

  He didn’t get a chance to find out, as an hour later Cathy came over to collar Mark after his final set on the wall bars.

  “Mark, I’ve got your choreography notes here. Can you spare five minutes or so while I go through the routine with you? That way the notes will make more sen
se when you try to learn them.”

  “Yes, OK. Have to do it sometime, I suppose. What have you got?”

  Cathy grinned, winking at Dennis. “Well, Mr International Spy, your routine is set to a medley of James Bond theme songs and other spy-related music – it gives us a chance to play with all kinds of moves to fit the words and the pictures we’ll be flashing up behind you. Adam has decided, if you’re up for it, that we’ll have you enter from the balcony of the circle, sliding down a rope into the aisle. You’ll grab the nearest pretty girl and pretend to kiss her, then sprint towards the stage. Up the centre steps, crouch and turn to face the audience with a gun in your hand. Holster the gun, stand, and slowly peel off the gloves you wore to slide down the rope. Toss them into the wings.” Cathy demonstrated. “Now the dance routine really gets going.” She went through the moves, miming the removal of jacket, tie, shirt and shoes. “You have to get the shoes off quickly ‘cause there’s nothing less sexy than a man trying to take his socks off. Wear loose ones and shuck them off with the shoes. Then it’s the big show of whipping off the pants.” She performed a slick two-handed manoeuvre and hurled the imaginary pants off to the side. Mark nodded, but, Dennis was transfixed. This was a side of Cathy he’d never have imagined.

  “What happens if I trip over or get caught up somehow?” asked Mark.

  “Well if you rehearse properly it should all flow smoothly,” she said. “But if something does go horribly wrong and you’re in danger of looking like a tit, the effects guy will have a slide of Johnny English to flash up on screen and people will think you’re being Rowan Atkinson. It’ll get you a laugh and cover any hiccups. Any questions?”

  Mark shook his head, glancing through the notes she handed him.

  “I have one,” said Dennis. “How do you think of this stuff? Especially the Johnny English thing – that’s brilliant.”