Body on the Stage (20 page)

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Authors: Bev Robitai

Tags: #murder, #mystery, #fitness, #gym, #weight loss, #theatre

BOOK: Body on the Stage
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“What? What are you dreaming up
now?”

“I would need a guinea-pig to
try out ideas on, to get this course organised. Would you volunteer
to try out some lessons beforehand, in private of course, so I can
see what works and what doesn’t?”

He closed his eyes and took a
deep breath. “I did just offer to do ‘anything’ to help, didn’t I?
This wasn’t quite what I had in mind, but if it’s what you need,
then of course I’ll do whatever you say. As long as it’s in
private, because nobody is going to be inspired by seeing this body
shaking its groove thing all over the place.”

“Don’t talk about yourself like
that. Your mental image hasn’t caught up yet with the way you look
now, after doing all this exercise. You’ve got a pretty decent bod
there, and with a little more work you’ll look fabulous.” She was
struck by inspiration and clicked her fingers. “I know! To help me
design these classes, I’ll go through the process of choreographing
a strip routine for you. It can be the cardio aspect of your
training and it’ll be great for your flexibility. You need to
include more stretching in your workouts and this will be perfect.”
She jumped up and surveyed him from head to toe. “Now, what
character shall we use?”

He stood there shaking his head.
“You’re mad, Cathy, quite mad.”

“No I’m not,” she said
confidently. “I know exactly what I’m doing. You’ve had no
performance experience, no dance background, right?”

“I’m afraid not. Well, not since
a few basic ballroom dance lessons as a teenager.”

“Well, that’s why you’re perfect
for this. It’ll show me the starting point for people with no
previous skills so I’ll know what I have to teach them. Dennis,
you’re a godsend.”

“Not quite in the way I
expected, but I’ll take it.”

“Right, let’s see what you can
and can’t do. Hold on a second.” She pulled a music player from her
desk drawer and slotted it into a speaker set. Dialling round the
playlist, she selected a bright and bouncy tune with strong rhythm.
“Right, click your fingers in time with the beat, Dennis.”

“Seriously? How can this
possibly help?” He did his best to obey, despite feeling like a
total prune. Cathy watched him closely.

“Good, very good – you can carry
a beat, and that’s the most important thing. It means you’ll get
the timing right when you’re moving to the music.”

“It does? Well I suppose that’s
something. Can I stop now?”

“You can step forward and back
to the music, please. That’s right, good.” She watched his
movements. “You’re quite well co-ordinated so that’ll make things
easier for both of us. OK, you can stop now.” She burst out
laughing at his look of relief. “Sorry, was that such an ordeal? I
do appreciate your sacrifice, you know!”

“I’ll wave all my dignity
goodbye if it’ll help you.”

“It’s going to help you too in
the long run. This sort of exercise is great for your muscle
flexibility, and for your brain as well. You’ll be a limber genius
by the time I’ve finished with you! I’ll put a routine together
over the next couple of days and we’ll go over it at the weekend,
OK? You can practise it by yourself as much as you like and I’ll
check your form every few days.”

“I can’t believe I’m doing this,
but yes, all right. I guess once you start opening up to new
things, all sorts of possibilities appear. One simple step inside
the theatre door and now look at me – new friends, new body, new
skills – I never expected any of this!”

“All you’re doing is realising
your own potential, Dennis,” she said quietly. “The capability was
inside you all along. You really can do anything you put your mind
to.”

The question that had been
niggling at the back of his mind since he’d walked in finally
popped up and made itself known.

“I meant to ask, how did you get
on with Jack when he came in? Was it awful? He didn’t grill you or
give you a hard time, did he?”

“Why, would you go and thump him
if he had?” She smiled. Then her face grew bleak. “Actually he was
very nice, but I felt there was a touch of professional caution in
the way he spoke to me. That was a bit disturbing. It felt as if he
was treating me as a possible suspect and being very correct in how
he phrased things. I started to feel guilty even though I’m
not.”

“I know what you mean; he did
the same thing to me. I can understand why criminals sometimes
blurt out a confession, just to relieve the tension. Or maybe
that’s just me being so new to all this. I’ve never come across any
serious crime before.”

“I guess we’ve both been lucky.
It’s not as if Whetford is immune to homicide or any of the other
delightful things human beings do to each other, is it?” She
frowned. “One question had me puzzled though – he asked me if any
of our equipment had gone missing recently. I said I couldn’t think
of anything but that I’d check and let him know.”

“He didn’t say what?”

“No, he was quite vague. I
suppose I’d better do a stock check and count all the mats and
stretch bands and weights and exercise balls – hell, it’ll take
ages. I hope he’s not in a hurry.” She pulled open a file drawer
and rummaged inside. “I know there’s an asset list here somewhere,
but God knows how up to date it is. I haven’t actually checked it
physically against the stock for a year or two now. That’ll teach
me for taking shortcuts with my paperwork, won’t it?” She pulled
out a sheet of paper and studied it. “Got it. Now I just have to
find all these items and verify they’re still here.”

“Want me to give you a
hand?”

He saw her open her mouth to say
no but quickly think better of it. “Yes, actually, that really
would help. You can take the list and call out the items and I’ll
locate and check them. It should all be in sequence around the
rooms ‘cause that’s how I made the list in the first place.” She
paused. “Are you sure you don’t mind? This is really…”

“Sweet of me, yes, I know. Don’t
rub it in.”

She pulled out a black vinyl
clipboard and handed it to him with a pen. As she walked past him
towards the door she said “Thank you,” quietly but with intense
feeling. Dennis felt a warm glow.

It took them the best part of an
hour to work their way around the gym, ticking off every moveable
item and noting any shortfalls. Dennis noticed the two dumbbells
were still missing off the rack and pointed it out to Cathy.

“Have those been missing for
years or are they around somewhere in the wrong place, do you
think?”

“They’d better be here
somewhere. I only bought that set a few months ago to replace the
old lot that were looking shabby. I’ll be very annoyed if they’ve
gone missing.”

But after checking the whole
place thoroughly they found two dumbbells, a mat, and a set of
stretch bands had disappeared completely.

“How the hell people smuggle
this stuff out is beyond me,” sighed Cathy. “You’d think someone
would notice a person sneaking out with a whole exercise mat
stuffed under their shirt, wouldn’t you?”

“What about the last person out
each night? If they were alone they could make off with whatever
they liked.”

“I suppose you’re right. I had
complete faith in my staff until Vincenzo worked his poisonous
little tricks. Now I don’t know who to trust. Dammit!” She slapped
the steel frame of a rowing machine in frustration. “Ow! That
didn’t help!” She rubbed her fingers vigorously. “Normally it was
either Vincenzo or me that locked up, so it’s quite likely he
nicked the gear rather than one of the others. I wonder if it’s
hidden at his apartment? I don’t remember seeing it, do you?”

“No, but we weren’t looking for
it then, were we?”

Cathy held her hand out for the
clipboard. “I’ll let Jack know about these items just in case they
prove relevant. He may have gone through the apartment more
thoroughly and recognise them if they were there. It would be good
to get them back.”

Dennis looked at his watch. “Is
there anything else you need help with? If not, I should probably
head over to the theatre for rehearsal.”

“Oh hell! Is that the time?” Her
face radiated stress. “I’m supposed to be there myself from this
week on. I’d completely forgotten about it with all this other
stuff going on. Can you tell Adam I’m sorry, and I’ll be there from
tomorrow? I haven’t arranged the extra staff to cover closing up
yet but I’ll sort it out tomorrow and be there.”

“I’m sure it’ll be fine,”
soothed Dennis. “He knows you have a business to run. Your
livelihood has to come first.”

“Yes, but I want to do
everything I can to make sure the show is really successful. They
offered me a share of the publicity and the profits instead of
paying any training fees for the actors, so as long as the show
makes decent money I’ll get a bit of a bonus. God knows I need it!”
She looked distraught, her red-blonde hair dishevelled, her cheeks
flushed.

“I’ll explain everything to
Adam, it’ll be OK. Try not to worry.” He felt a sudden flash of
daring and pulled her in close for a quick kiss. Releasing her with
a wink, he made his exit, grinning at the look of utter surprise on
her face. That might just stop her from worrying for a while.

 

At the theatre he sought out
Adam as quickly as possible to make sure he wasn’t fuming about
Cathy’s non-appearance.

“She’s going to be here
tomorrow, Adam, she promised. It’s been difficult for her to
organise staff at the gym since one of her personal trainers was
killed not long ago.”

Adam nodded understandingly, his
grey curls glinting in the soft light from the chandelier. “Oh
dear, that really is a fair excuse, isn’t it? Poor Cathy, is she
coping all right? We can’t have our choreographer under too much
stress, can we?”

“I think she’s doing all
right.”

“Tell her to eat lots of
bananas. The potassium is very good for the nerves.”

“Is it? I’ll pass that on.”

“Dennis,” said Adam suddenly,
eying him up and down, “you’ve lost a lot of weight, haven’t you?
It suits you – you’re looking very…manly. What have you been
doing?”

“I, er, I’ve been going to the
gym with the actors, and Cathy worked out a programme for me to
lose the fat and build some muscle.”

“Ah, so she’s been building a
man, with blond hair and a tan. Are you good for relieving her
tension, Dennis?”

“What?” He tried to keep the
shock off his face but Adam’s laughter told him he’d failed.

“So you’re not a Rocky Horror
fan then. Never mind.” Adam patted him kindly on the arm. “Can you
pop out back and ask Tony to come and see me please? I want to get
a few things sorted out before rehearsal starts.”

Dennis backed away, glad of the
excuse to escape a conversation that he didn’t fully understand.
Sometimes the theatre in-jokes were a bit beyond him when he wasn’t
familiar with the quotes and references. He walked down the red
patterned carpet to the front of the apron, leaped up the three
steps recently placed there to give access to the stage, and made
his way through to the Green Room.

The group sitting round the
table looked up as he came in.

“Dennis,” cried Tony, “you’re
the man on the spot – tell us about this dead dude. What’s the
latest?”

Dennis looked at the faces
assembled in front of him. Tony and Gazza were on one side of the
table with Mark, Warwick and Ricky on the other. Simon lounged
against the kitchen counter and Jayden was hunched over in a far
corner talking on a cellphone.

“Er, well, what have you heard
so far?” he countered. “Apart from the fact we found him at the
bottom of the river.” He didn’t want to reveal details of
Vincenzo’s alleged raids on the gym finances – they were Cathy’s to
divulge if she felt like it. There was still no real evidence
Vincenzo had stolen the missing money, so speculation was
pointless.

“Well we know the dude’s dead,”
said Gazza. “And we know he worked at the gym.” He looked across
the table. “You guys trained there, what did you make of him?”

“He was OK,” said Mark
neutrally. “He knew his stuff, was a pretty good trainer.”

“He was all right,” muttered
Warwick.

“He was a feckin’ dick,” scoffed
Ricky. “I thought he was a complete tosser. Always swanning around
in the latest pretty-coloured gym clothes with his hair all nicely
styled, thinking he was the best thing since sliced bread. A total
arsehole.”

“No, don’t hold back,” said
Gazza. “Tell us what you really think.”

“Well where is he when we need
him, eh? Here we are, hard out in training for showing off our
bodies in front of thousands of women, and what’s Vincenzo doing?
Floating down a bloody river!”

“Yeah, pretty thoughtless to let
himself drown like that, eh?” Gazza’s sarcasm fell on deaf
ears.

“What he hell was he doing up
the valley in the first place? It’s no time of year to go
swimming.” Ricky looked at Mark and Warwick, smirking. “Perhaps he
was taking a girlfriend for a secluded walk. I’ve seen him leching
around all the pretty chicky-babes at the gym – even Sherry and
Leonie.”

Warwick stood up so suddenly his
chair fell over backwards with a clatter.

“You little shit! Christ, you’re
a troublemaker. Leonie wouldn’t give Vincenzo the time of day.
She’s got class, unlike you, you short-arse little turd. No woman
would bother giving you a second look.”

Ricky leapt to his feet and
bristled belligerently.

“Screw you, what do
you
know? At least I can satisfy a woman so she doesn’t go looking for
other men.” They looked ready to come to blows at any second.

Simon moved in towards the table
on one side and Dennis approached from the other.

“Guys, take it down a notch,”
said Dennis uneasily.

“Play nicely, children,” drawled
Simon. “Or there’ll be tears before bedtime.” He pushed Ricky
gently into his chair. “Don’t let our esteemed director catch you
at each others’ throats or you’ll both be out on your ears and it
would be such a bore having to train new guys to replace you. Take
a seat, Warwick. Deep breaths, both of you, just calm down, OK?” He
looked at Mark. “Are you all right mate? You’ve gone a funny
colour.”

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