side of the table and offered
her one. He looked into her eyes as he sat down.
‘It appears
that the two lads out there found a woman’s body lying on the floor
in the back row of the stalls. Stewart has given us a preliminary
identification and we’ll be sending an officer to pick up her next
of kin for a formal ID when we’ve established who that is.’
Jessica was on
the edge of her seat willing him to get to the point.
‘And? Who is
the woman?’
‘According to
Stewart, the deceased is Tamara Fitzpatrick.’
‘Good God.
Wow.’
Jessica was
stunned. She held up a hand to stop him saying any more until she’d
had time to think. Her mind filled with a whirling mass of
thoughts, turning over all the possible ramifications of Tamara’s
death. How did it happen? Accident, suicide, murder? Who did it?
When? Why? Could she be replaced? How would this affect the show?
The theatre?
‘Jessica?’ He
waved a hand in front of her eyes. ‘Come back to me. This is where
I get to ask you some questions, OK?’
‘What? Oh. Yes,
of course. Sorry, go ahead.’ She shook her head to clear it. ‘I’ve
never been involved with anything like this – it’s a bit
mind-boggling.’
He smiled
faintly. ‘You get used to it, I’m afraid to say. Anyway, Jessica,
can you give me any details about Tamara’s family? We’ll need to
notify her next of kin as soon as possible. Do you have her home
address?’
‘As far as I
know, she lives away from her family. They didn’t get on very well.
But I suppose they’d still be her next of kin though, wouldn’t
they? Oh, dear, I’m not making much sense, am I? Of course your
parents don’t stop being your parents just because you don’t live
in the same house.’
‘We’ll assume
that for the moment. Do you have any contact details for them?’
She hesitated.
‘Let me just confirm something I was told. May I make a phone
call?’
‘You’re
entitled to one, remember.’
She smiled
briefly at his joke, and called Clara-Jane who asserted that she
was absolutely positive that Bruce Fitzpatrick was truly Tamara’s
father. Jessica passed Bruce’s details to Jack who called in one of
the constables to handle the visit. Once the constable had been
despatched, Jack turned back to Jessica.
‘Now that’s out
of the way, can you tell me when you last saw Tamara?’
‘Saturday
afternoon at rehearsal. As far as I know she was there throughout
and I assume she left with the others. I was down in the workshop
with the construction guys and we closed up after everyone else had
gone.’
‘What time was
that?’
‘Um, about five
o’clock. Rehearsal was due to end at 4.30. We worked on in the
workshop to finish the tent.’
‘Could you see
or hear anything from where you were?’
‘No, there’s a
soundproof door and blackout between the workshop and the stage.
When it’s closed you can just hear really loud bangs or yells but
nothing much else.’ She looked worriedly at him. ‘When did it
happen? I mean, I know the medical examiner has to complete his
post-mortem to give you an accurate time, but could you tell
anything roughly from the body?’
He smiled.
‘You’ve been watching a few crime shows, have you? Which ones?
“C.S.I.”? “N.C.I.S.”? “Law & Order”?’
‘Yes, all
those, and “Inspector Morse” and “Midsomer Murders”.’
‘Ah yes, the
delightful hamlet of Midsomer. You’d think people would be falling
over themselves to move out of the village, wouldn’t you, with a
death rate like that?’
She burst out
laughing. ‘I’ve thought the same thing! I do like John Nettles as
Inspector Barnaby though. He’s matured very nicely since he played
Bergerac.’
Jack ran a hand
over his mostly dark brown but slightly greying hair. ‘To return to
the matter in hand, what did you do after you left the theatre on
Saturday?’
She looked up,
screwing her eyes closed in an effort to remember.
‘I just went
home, actually. Had a quiet night
her one. He looked into her eyes as he sat down.
‘It appears
that the two lads out there found a woman’s body lying on the floor
in the back row of the stalls. Stewart has given us a preliminary
identification and we’ll be sending an officer to pick up her next
of kin for a formal ID when we’ve established who that is.’
Jessica was on
the edge of her seat willing him to get to the point.
‘And? Who is
the woman?’
‘According to
Stewart, the deceased is Tamara Fitzpatrick.’
‘Good God.
Wow.’
Jessica was
stunned. She held up a hand to stop him saying any more until she’d
had time to think. Her mind filled with a whirling mass of
thoughts, turning over all the possible ramifications of Tamara’s
death. How did it happen? Accident, suicide, murder? Who did it?
When? Why? Could she be replaced? How would this affect the show?
The theatre?
‘Jessica?’ He
waved a hand in front of her eyes. ‘Come back to me. This is where
I get to ask you some questions, OK?’
‘What? Oh. Yes,
of course. Sorry, go ahead.’ She shook her head to clear it. ‘I’ve
never been involved with anything like this – it’s a bit
mind-boggling.’
He smiled
faintly. ‘You get used to it, I’m afraid to say. Anyway, Jessica,
can you give me any details about Tamara’s family? We’ll need to
notify her next of kin as soon as possible. Do you have her home
address?’
‘As far as I
know, she lives away from her family. They didn’t get on very well.
But I suppose they’d still be her next of kin though, wouldn’t
they? Oh, dear, I’m not making much sense, am I? Of course your
parents don’t stop being your parents just because you don’t live
in the same house.’
‘We’ll assume
that for the moment. Do you have any contact details for them?’
She hesitated.
‘Let me just confirm something I was told. May I make a phone
call?’
‘You’re
entitled to one, remember.’
She smiled
briefly at his joke, and called Clara-Jane who asserted that she
was absolutely positive that Bruce Fitzpatrick was truly Tamara’s
father. Jessica passed Bruce’s details to Jack who called in one of
the constables to handle the visit. Once the constable had been
despatched, Jack turned back to Jessica.
‘Now that’s out
of the way, can you tell me when you last saw Tamara?’
‘Saturday
afternoon at rehearsal. As far as I know she was there throughout
and I assume she left with the others. I was down in the workshop
with the construction guys and we closed up after everyone else had
gone.’
‘What time was
that?’
‘Um, about five
o’clock. Rehearsal was due to end at 4.30. We worked on in the
workshop to finish the tent.’
‘Could you see
or hear anything from where you were?’
‘No, there’s a
soundproof door and blackout between the workshop and the stage.
When it’s closed you can just hear really loud bangs or yells but
nothing much else.’ She looked worriedly at him. ‘When did it
happen? I mean, I know the medical examiner has to complete his
post-mortem to give you an accurate time, but could you tell
anything roughly from the body?’
He smiled.
‘You’ve been watching a few crime shows, have you? Which ones?
“C.S.I.”? “N.C.I.S.”? “Law & Order”?’
‘Yes, all
those, and “Inspector Morse” and “Midsomer Murders”.’
‘Ah yes, the
delightful hamlet of Midsomer. You’d think people would be falling
over themselves to move out of the village, wouldn’t you, with a
death rate like that?’
She burst out
laughing. ‘I’ve thought the same thing! I do like John Nettles as
Inspector Barnaby though. He’s matured very nicely since he played
Bergerac.’
Jack ran a hand
over his mostly dark brown but slightly greying hair. ‘To return to
the matter in hand, what did you do after you left the theatre on
Saturday?’
She looked up,
screwing her eyes closed in an effort to remember.
‘I just went
home, actually. Had a quiet night
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