Dead Famous

DAY TWENTY-NINE. 6.00 p.m.

Coleridge sat in the larger of the two halls in the village youth centre awaiting his turn among all the other hopefuls. He was very, very tired, having been up for most of the previous two nights investigating a real live “murder most foul”.

Now he was in the realms of fiction, but the words of the great “Tomorrow and tomorrow and tomorrow” speech, one of his favourites, seemed to be draining from his mind.

He tried to concentrate, but people kept asking him about the Peeping Tom murder. It was understandable, of course – the whole affair was colossal news, and they all knew that Coleridge was a senior policeman. He would not have dreamt of telling them about his direct association with the crime. “I expect my colleagues will do their best,” he said, trying to fix his mind on being a poor player about to strut and fret his hour upon the stage.

To Coleridge’s great relief his picture had not been shown on any of the news broadcasts during the day, and he did not expect it to be in the morning papers either. He simply did not look enough like a “top cop” to warrant inclusion. When the press did print a photo it was of Patricia, there being nothing they liked more than a comely “police girl”.

Finally, it was Coleridge’s turn to audition, and he was called into the smaller room in order to perform before Glyn and Val’s searching gaze. He gave it everything he had, even managing the ghost of a tear when he got to “out, brief candle”. There was nothing like the murder of a twenty-one-year-old girl to remind a person that life truly was a “walking shadow”.

When he had finished, Coleridge felt that he had acquitted himself well.

Glyn seemed to think so too. “That was lovely. Absolutely lovely and very moving. You clearly have great depth.”

Coleridge’s hopes soared, but only for a moment.

“I always think that Macduff is the key role in the final act,” said Glyn. “It’s a small part, but it needs a big actor. Would you like to play it?”

Trying not to let his disappointment show, Coleridge said that he would be delighted to play Macduff.

“And since you won’t have many lines to learn,” Val chipped in chirpily, “I presume I can put you down for scenery-painting and the car pool?”