Murder at the Mikado by Julianna Deering Page B

brittle. “The show must go on, eh? I suppose Simone will inherit the old Tivoli. She’s been wanting to make some changes as it is. I suppose we’ll have them now.”
    “Changes?” Nick asked.
    Benton evidently couldn’t resist smirking. “Fancies herself Lady Macbeth. One thing Johnnie knew was his own limits. He played Gilbert and Sullivan well—better than anyone I’ve ever seen. Just the right touch of fun without being too broad about it. But he knew better than to try roles that didn’t suit him. I saw him and Simone rehearsing a scene from Hamlet once. She kept scolding him for not being serious. Truth was, they were both no good, only he knew it and was having her on about it.”
    “Were they really that bad?” Nick asked.
    Benton shrugged. “No, not really. Just not great. Very ordinary. Painfully ordinary. I expect, once she gets her feet under her managing things, we’ll at least have a go at more serious stuff. Shakespeare, Ibsen, Chekhov, perhaps Shaw or O’Neill. Not exactly what the company is looking for.”
    “But Miss Cullimore is pleased, right?” Drew said. “Just how badly did she want to try something besides light opera?”
    Benton looked puzzled for a moment and then barked out a humorless laugh. “Do you mean would she have killed him because of it? Don’t be ridiculous. If she didn’t kill him over all the women he had, I daresay she wouldn’t over this. I don’t know that she’s particularly heartbroken over him, but I don’t think she’d kill him.”
    “Do you have any theories about who did then?” Drew asked.
    “Fleur Hargreaves, of course. Oh, pardon me.” Benton made a low, mocking bow. “Mrs. Landis.”
    “How can you be so sure?”
    Benton shrugged. “I saw her. I heard his dressing room door slam shut. It was loud enough to wake the dead, I tell you, though it didn’t seem to help old Johnnie. Anyway, I looked into the corridor and saw her running out.”
    Drew gave him a piercing look. “You absolutely saw her, and there’s no doubt in your mind.”
    “I didn’t actually see her face, if that’s what you’re asking, but I saw her. She was wearing that black cloak she likes.” Benton frowned. “The one with the hood. It was pulled up over her head, so I couldn’t properly see her face, but I could tell. Who else would it be?”
    “That’s what we’re trying to find out,” Nick said. “Are you sure it couldn’t have been someone pretending to be Mrs. Landis? I mean, if you didn’t see her face and all?”
    “I don’t think so.”
    Madeline studied him for a moment. “You can’t think of anyone else who might have wanted Mr. Ravenswood dead?”
    “Johnnie was rather a rotter, but everyone more or less put up with him. I don’t know who else would kill him other than Fleur. They were having an awful row on and off.”
    “But why?” Madeline pressed. “What would make her do such a thing?”
    “Well, obviously, she didn’t want him telling her husband about their affair.”
    “Are you saying they were still seeing each other?”
    “Good heavens, no. That was over four or five years ago. Still, I’m certain Landis wouldn’t like it if he knew. Perhaps Ravenswood threatened to tell him unless she paid him off.”
    Drew shook his head. “That would hardly be a threat. Landis has known about it for years. She confessed everything to him not long after their son was born. He forgave her, and she’s been devoted since.”
    “Women like that, they never change. She may not have been seeing Ravenswood anymore, but she had someone else like as not.”
    Again Drew thought of his time at Oxford. “Young Hazeldine?”
    Benton snorted. “Don’t make me laugh. Little Billy? He fancies himself a Lothario. I expect, with the following he’s got from the girls already, he will be one day. But he hasn’t quite got the polish for it at this point. A bit too much of the country in him yet for our crowd.”
    “Then who is it, do you think,