Kitty Peck and the Music Hall Murders Read Online Free PDF Page A

across the front of his waistcoat popped off and clinked away into a gloomy corner.
    ‘This, Miss Kitty, is your cage and when we have worked with you on your new act for The Gaudy – an act that I confidently predict will be the envy of every hall in London – you will hang seventy foot above the heads of our audience six nights a week and you will twirl and sing for them like a little linnet.’
    Do you have a head for heights?
    Lady Ginger’s peculiar questions suddenly made sense.
    ‘But I’m no turn, Mr Fitzpatrick. I’m just a wardrobe girl. I’ve never been on stage in my life.’
    ‘I’ve heard you sing, Kitty Peck – your voice is sweet. Your figure is good – for those what like that sort of thing. I know from the hands that you don’t mind the gantry and, of course . . .’ , his fat lips squirmed into a nasty smile under his faded red bristles, ‘. . . you have to do this if you want to see your beloved brother again.’ He spat out those last words as if they tasted bitter.
    ‘While you’re suspended above the theatre singing pretty songs and performing pretty acrobatic tricks you will be our eyes. From your unique vantage point you will keep note of the comings and goings in the hall below – not just The Gaudy, mind, all of them in turn. And if you see anything that might be helpful, you will report back to us.’
    He turned back to the cage.
    ‘You’ll have to be careful with the paintwork just here on the right, it’s still tacky. I’ve had your boyfriend painting it for the last two days. Nice job he’s done too, for an I-tie. In you get then, girl. Let’s try it out for size.’

Chapter Four
    The feathers on the violent purple tippet that was wrapped tight around Jenny Pierce’s throat quivered as she breathed out.
    Now, Jenny had a face on her like a flat iron most days of the week, but today the way her heavy jaw was working – all clenched and twitching at the sides – made her look like a boxer in a frock. She was certainly spoiling for a round.
    Jenny leaned back against the door, folded her arms and flicked her eyes around the room. She snorted and the cheap feathers under her chin danced about again. ‘And you got a fire in here too, Kitty. Aren’t we just the lucky little lady.’
    Peggy jumped up.
    ‘If you haven’t got something pleasant to say to Kitty, I’d bugger off, if I was you.’
    She’d been kneeling behind me pulling hard at the ribbons that made the spangled bodice dig so tight into my waist that the first time I’d practised in it I’d fainted. Luckily I’d only been five foot off the ground at the time.
    ‘You know very well why she’s got a fire in here, Jenny Pierce. If you was going to dangle over the heads of the punters and do the things she’s got to do tonight you’d want a bit of heat in your bones too.’ Peggy knelt again and pulled the ribbons tighter. I gasped. ‘Sorry, Kitty, but Fitzy was most specific about how he wants you to look tonight – fragile, as if a man could snap you in two with his bare hands, he said.’ She shuddered before adding softly, ‘The old pervert.’
    I took a deep breath, leaned forward and gripped the back of the chair in front of me as Peggy pulled harder.
    ‘It’s all right,’ I said. ‘You can use your foot too if it helps, we wouldn’t want to disappoint him, would we?’
    I wasn’t being sarcastic. I might not have been Fitzpatrick’s type, but, unfortunately, Peggy, with her abundant figure and thick dark curls, was. He and Mrs C had a longstanding arrangement, but that didn’t stop him walking his dog elsewhere, if you get my meaning – or trying to, leastways. When he was soused, he’d corner Peggy in some dark corner, start pawing at her and then turn rough when nothing happened. A couple of times she’d come to The Gaudy with a black eye or a welt as big as a boot print blooming across her shoulders. We borrowed Mrs C’s paint box and tried to disguise the bruises.
    Peggy