The London Deception Read Online Free PDF

to leave it burning all night?” Detective Inspector Ryan asked.
    â€œNot at all,” Mr. Paul replied. “She must have forgotten to extinguish it.”
    The night air was chilly, so Frank put his hands in his pockets. He felt something and pulled out the handkerchief he had used to cover his mouth in the burningdressing room. A monogram was stitched into a corner of the cloth.
    Bringing it close to his eyes to read the monogram, Frank smelled a familiar scent and noticed a large tan-colored stain on the handkerchief. Greasepaint, he thought to himself. The two-letter monogram read E.A.
    â€œWell, whoever’s to blame, it will cost a pretty penny,” Detective Inspector Ryan told Mr. Paul. “The fire triggered the emergency sprinklers in the other dressing rooms as well. Some of your costumes were burned and the others were water damaged.”
    Mr. Paul sighed heavily. “That’s a five-thousand-pound accident.”
    â€œWe’re not so sure it was an accident,” Joe said. “Someone locked Frank inside that burning room.”
    â€œWe’ve searched the premises,” Detective Inspector Ryan said. “There’s no one in the theater.”
    â€œYou said yourself, Frank, no normal person could have escaped our detection,” Chris noted. “Oh, and by the way, no one could have run from the light booth to the stage in twenty seconds. I timed your brother.”
    â€œPerhaps the dressing room door just got stuck,” Detective Inspector Ryan offered.
    â€œIt was locked,” Joe replied, pulling the dressing room key from his pocket, “with this key.”
    â€œWould Ms. Anderson have the key to her dressing room?” Frank asked.
    â€œNo,” Mr. Paul replied. “Why do you ask?”
    Frank showed them the handkerchief with the greasepainton it and explained about the possible connection to the sabotaged lights.
    â€œEmily Anderson is a highly respected actress, and besides, Mr. Jeffries issued keys only to myself and Jennifer Mulhall,” Mr. Paul told them.
    â€œMr. Paul, would you—” Frank began, finding it difficult to ask, “would you mind showing us your key to the dressing room?”
    Mr. Paul shrugged, unoffended, and showed them the key that exactly matched the one in Joe’s hand.
    â€œThat leaves Jennifer and Mr. Jeffries,” Frank said.
    â€œWhat leaves Jennifer and Mr. Jeffries?” Jeffries asked, walking up behind Frank.
    â€œMr. Jeffries, what are you doing here?” Joe was surprised.
    â€œWell, since my theater was burning down, the police were gracious enough to contact me,” Jeffries replied sourly.
    â€œDo you have a key to the dressing rooms?” Frank asked Jeffries.
    â€œOf course,” Jeffries replied.
    â€œCould we see it?” Joe asked.
    â€œWho do you think you are?” Jeffries scoffed. “I don’t have to answer to a young boy.”
    â€œI’d like to see it then, sir,” Detective Inspector Ryan said with a tight smile.
    Jeffries produced his key chain and showed them the matching key.
    â€œThat leaves Jennifer,” Chris said to the Hardys.
    â€œNo,” Joe said in her defense. “Anyone who everrented the theater and been issued keys could have had copies made before returning them to Mr. Jeffries.”
    â€œDidn’t Emily Anderson mention another show she had done in this theater?” Frank recalled.
    â€œThe way I see it, Mr. Paul, you’re just trying to cover up more bungling,” Jeffries said. “One more bit of negligence, and I’ll bring in my solicitor and close down the whole production.”
    â€œMr. Jeffries, the only damage is to the dressing rooms,” Mr. Paul explained. “Your insurance and ours will cover the damage to your theater, though I doubt it will help us replace all the costumes.”
    â€œWhat do you mean, Dad?” Chris asked.
    â€œThe man producing the show,