Blood Will Have Blood Read Online Free PDF Page B

minutes’ walking brought him back to the theater.
    The side door was the best bet, opening off an unfrequented alley. The chief danger would be muggers, not an overzealous police force.
    His technique was a little rusty after years of legal keys. Patience. Slow, careful work would avoid those tiny marks around the keyhole, surefire indicators of a “B & E.” A minute passed like ten, then the door creaked and Spraggue was inside.
    The side door brought him into a long passageway near the costume shop. Storage rooms on his left gave off a musty odor. He stood still, waiting until his eyes adjusted to the blackness. Then quietly, on rubber soles, he made his way down the corridor toward the stage.
    The hallway ran straight for twenty yards, then branched. To the right, a short passage led to the paint room and a stairway down to the dressing rooms. The stage was straight ahead, hidden behind double doors. Spraggue turned left. Darien’s office was upstairs.
    He heard a muffled voice and stopped dead. Someone was onstage. A person with a key, a right to be there? The stage manager? Or the joker.
    Six steps brought him back to the double doors. He turned the knob slowly, opened the right-hand door a crack.
    The work lights were on, the curtain down. Deirdre, the tall brunette bride of Dracula, was alone, rehearsing a scene. She turned, sank into a hard wooden chair as if it were a comfortable Victorian love seat, and continued her dialogue:
    â€œOh, John, you do understand, don’t you? I’m sorry to have worried you.”
    She paused, heard a flattering response, and replied: “I’m glad, my darling. So glad. Don’t fret about me anymore. I’ll be fine. It’s only these dreams, John. Such bad dreams.…”
    It was an attractive performance, unassuming. Childlike and womanly at the same time. Confiding, but hesitant. An interesting interpretation. But not of a vampire queen.
    Spraggue cleared his throat.
    â€œWho’s there?”
    â€œDon’t worry,” he said. “Michael Spraggue. I didn’t realize anyone else was here.”
    Damn, he said inwardly. I should have.
    Her pale intense face relaxed. “I didn’t either. How’d you get in?”
    Spraggue smiled. “How did you?”
    â€œI just stayed. I love empty theaters at night. Especially this theater. It has such wonderful vibrations. Did you know that a man killed himself here?”
    â€œI’d heard.”
    â€œHanged himself.” Her voice played with the sound. “Right here, center stage. Such a romantic way to die.…”
    â€œI doubt he thought so.”
    She giggled with her mouth but her eyes were far away. “Will you play a scene with me?”
    â€œI don’t have any scenes with the brides of Dracula.”
    â€œThe scene I was just doing,” she said. “That’s one of yours.”
    â€œMine and Lucy’s, isn’t it?”
    â€œYes. I love that scene. Right after the first attacks on Lucy. She knows she should tell you about them, but there’s something so fascinating, so erotic, about the vampire that all she does is complain about her ‘bad dreams.’”
    â€œI’m afraid I don’t know the scene yet,” he said. How to get rid of the woman! Would she rattle on with the dreamy voice and the distant eyes all night?
    â€œDo you believe in dreams?” Deirdre asked. “In portents?”
    â€œSometimes,” Spraggue said carefully.
    Her eyes widened, stared into nothingness. “I do. I’m only Emma’s understudy, Mr. Spraggue, but I believe that I’ll play Lucy. That’s why I have to stay late. To rehearse. I have to be very good, very professional, when the accident happens.”
    â€œWhat accident?” Spraggue was almost afraid to prompt her. The woman blurted out her thoughts in a stream of consciousness. Her eyes rarely met his. She seemed to speak to an invisible