Body on the Stage (14 page)

They moved further round the
house and pushed their way past bushes growing along the back wall.
There was one small window partly open, but it was too high up for
them to reach or to look through.

“Hello! Vincenzo! Are you
there?” Cathy called as loudly as she could.

Silence.

Dennis rapped hard on the wall
with his knuckles then rubbed them ruefully. “I don’t think we’re
going to get a reply,” he said. “Perhaps we should ask one of the
other tenants if they’ve seen him.”

A tall grey-haired man answered
their knock on his door, holding an earthenware mug with a tea-bag
tag hanging over the edge. “Hi, can I help you?”

“We were just wondering if
you’ve seen Vincenzo Barino,” said Cathy. “I’m his boss and he
didn’t turn up for work today and he isn’t answering his
phone.”

The man’s eyebrows rose. “And
are you the enforcer?” he asked Dennis. “Come to drag him back to
his desk?”

“Me? No! I just came for moral
support. Cathy was worried that he might be too sick to come to the
door so we thought we’d ask around and see if you’d heard or seen
him since yesterday afternoon.”

“I haven’t, no. But I can tell
you you’re not the only person who’s been asking. Either he’s
behind in his rent and the debt collection boys are after him, or
he’s got some very heavy-looking friends. Some huge dude was around
yesterday but there was nothing I could tell him either.”

“Oh dear, that doesn’t sound
good.” Cathy fumbled in her handbag. “Can I leave you my card in
case anything happens? I’d be really grateful to hear from you if
you see him. I suppose now I should go and report it to the police
or something.”

“Sure, if I hear him through the
wall I’ll give you a call. You can read him the riot act for
skipping work, eh? Gotta go, my tea’s getting cold.”

“Thanks for your help,” said
Cathy as the door closed.

“No problem!” came from
inside.

Cathy and Dennis looked at each
other.

“You really want to go to the
police station and make a formal report that he’s missing?” said
Dennis. “It’s only been a day at the most since anyone saw him. He
might just have taken off for a while, or maybe it’s like the
neighbour said and the debt collectors are after him so he’s lying
low. You probably don’t want to bring the cops in if that’s what’s
going on.”

Cathy’s hands went to her face.
“I just don’t know! What should I do, Dennis?”

He thought for a moment. “Do you
know any cops, someone who could ask questions without it being too
official?”

Her eyes lit up. “That’s
brilliant. Jessica lives with a cop, I’ll give her a call.” Cathy
pulled out her phone and scrolled through her contacts list. She
tapped her foot nervously as she pushed the button and waited.

“Hi Jessica, it’s Cathy here.
Could I swing by and talk to your tame policeman? It’s important –
yes, right now if that’s OK? Oh great! Bye.”

“All good?” asked Dennis.

“Yes,” she smiled, “Jack is
there and doesn’t mind being disturbed. They’re only a couple of
streets away – let’s go. The sooner I can turn this over to a
higher authority the sooner I can stop worrying about it.”

Jessica opened her panelled
wooden front door with a warm welcome. “Hi guys, how nice to see
you outside of the theatre. It’s almost like having a social life!
Come in. Although it sounds as if it’s not purely a social call.
Jack’s in his study – I’ll give him a shout.” She settled them in
the comfortably untidy living room and went to fetch Detective
Senior Sergeant Jack Matherson.

When the tall, slim, figure with
slightly-greying hair entered the room Dennis felt relieved. Jack
had an air of competence and authority that was instantly
reassuring.

“Hi guys, how can I help?”

“It’s really good of you to make
time for this, Jack, I appreciate it.” Cathy took a deep breath. “I
may be worrying over nothing, but one of my employees, Vincenzo
Barino, didn’t turn up for work today and I haven’t been able to
reach him at his home or by phone. It’s not like him to go AWOL,
particularly without warning, and I’m not sure what to do
next.”

“One of his neighbours said a
big guy had been round looking for him,” supplied Dennis. “I don’t
know if that’s relevant but you should probably have all the facts
we have.” He debated passing on Simon’s theories about steroids but
decided that without hard evidence it was probably just a
distraction.

“OK,” said Jack. “Write down his
full name, address, and every detail you know about him. The
licence plate of his car would be useful, that kind of thing.” He
passed Cathy a sheet of paper and a pen. She read off some details
from her phone and noted them down, then frowned.

“The rest of the information I
have is in the gym office. Should I get it now, or can I email it
to you tomorrow?”

“Tomorrow is fine. It’s still
unofficial at this point, but if he doesn’t show up tomorrow we can
file a Missing Persons Report and make it official. I’ll need the
other information for that.” He smiled kindly, his eyes crinkling
at the corners “Try not to worry, Cathy. If he’s still in town, he
shouldn’t be too hard to find. Whetford’s a pretty small
place.”

“Thanks so much, Jack, I feel
better already. I didn’t want to just leave it and hope he turned
up, but I’d have felt silly going down to the police station with
so little information to go on. Telling you feels like the right
thing to do.”

“Happy to help,” he said. “Would
you like to stay for a coffee or a glass of wine?”

“Yes, go on,” said Jessica.
“We’ve got decaf if it’s too late for real coffee, and we won’t
give you enough wine to stop you from driving, I promise.”

Dennis and Cathy looked at each
other. He waited for her cue.

“That would be lovely,” she
said. “A coffee with friends is just what I need right now, thank
you. Is that OK with you Dennis?”

He almost blurted something
stupid like ‘whatever makes you happy, dear’ but caught himself in
time. It was amazing how quickly he had slipped into a pattern of
almost domestic interaction with her after so many months of living
alone.

“A cup of coffee would be great,
thank you.” He settled back on the sofa, feeling the gentle warmth
of Cathy’s thigh against his. For the first time since Louise had
left him, he felt comfortable and at home in the company of
friends.

Jessica disappeared into the
kitchen where they could hear the purr of the kettle and a
promising clink of crockery.

“Cathy, you run the gym that’s
training the actors, don’t you? How’s that going?” Jack leaned back
in his armchair and crossed his long legs.

“It’s pretty good, isn’t it
Dennis?” She looked to him for agreement. “Dennis is training
alongside the actors just to get fit, so he sees even more of them
than I do. They’re building up quite well, aren’t they?”

“Yes, very well. I only wish I
could get the results they’re getting. Warwick looks amazing now,
and Ricky is just a little powerhouse. All I’m doing is trying to
shrink a bit, but they’re transforming into calendar-fodder for
muscle magazines.”

She laughed. “You’ll get there
in time. Don’t forget they had a good head start on you.”

And possibly some chemical
assistance as well, he thought. “How about you, Jack?” he asked.
“How do you stay in shape? Does the job keep you pretty
active?”

“Oh yes,” he said. “I’m forever
chasing crims down dark alleys and hurdling fences in a single
bound. Stopping riots takes a lot of energy too.”

“Don’t believe a word of it,”
said Jessica, placing a tray of mugs on the coffee table. “He’s a
desk jockey most of the time, doesn’t lift anything heavier than a
stapler. It’s only my efforts in the kitchen that keep him looking
like a greyhound. He’s lucky to burn enough calories just by
walking half an hour a day when the rest of us have to really work
for it.”

She handed out mugs, offered
milk and sugar, and told them to help themselves to nibbles from
the plate in the centre of the tray. “Low fat, low sugar, natural
fruit filled muesli bars – guaranteed not to put an ounce of fat on
you.”

“So you do have help with
keeping thin, Jack,” said Dennis. “It’s much easier when you have
someone else policing the contents of your kitchen cupboard. I
found that really hard at the start but I’m getting used to it
now.”

“It’s just a matter of building
new habits,” said Cathy. “Do anything for three months and it’ll
become a normal part of your lifestyle.”

“Ha! If it’s anything like the
theatre it takes over your lifestyle in about three weeks!” said
Jessica. “It’s the most addictive thing I know, outside of certain
illegal substances, of course.”

“It does rather fill up your
free time,” said Jack, “considering they only pay you from nine to
five. But it’s a labour of love for you, isn’t it?” He smiled at
her affectionately. “I knew you were besotted with the place when
you almost let a woman knife you rather than create a disturbance
during a show.” He shook his head. “Mad, completely mad.”

“Does, that, er, happen often?”
asked Dennis.

“No,” said Jessica firmly. “That
was a one-off. Normally the nearest we get to crime down there is
if a party gets out of hand and a few seats get broken. Don’t
worry, you’ll be safe with us. It’s probably less dangerous than
the gym with all those heavy weights lying around and things to
pull muscles on.”

“Hey,” protested Cathy, “I run a
tight ship at Intensity. Our accident record is spotless. You
should come along and give us a try, if you’re up for it. If you
want to put your money where your mouth is.”

Jack laughed. “You let yourself
fall into that one, Jess! Looks like you’d better dig out your
leotard and do some aerobics!”

Both women rounded on him.

“How old are you?”

“What century are you living
in?”

“OK, OK, go work out or do some
group fitness classes – whatever!” He shook his head. “You know
what I meant. Is it my fault the terminology keeps changing?”

“Poor old soul,” said Jessica,
ruffling his hair. “It’s so hard to keep up with the young people
these days, isn’t it?”

“You just wait, my darling.
You’ll need my help again at your precious theatre one of these
days and then let’s see who has the upper hand, eh?” His eyes
twinkled.

“Yes, dear. Whatever you say,
dear.”

The next day there was still no
sign of Vincenzo, so Cathy went along to the police station to take
the paperwork to the next level. She gave them all the information
she had and was assured the normal trace routines would be set in
motion straight away. She returned to the gym and dived into some
paperwork to stop herself from worrying. Even dealing with the
accounts would be better than trying to decide whether to replace
Vincenzo or just wait until he turned up, however long that might
take.

Mid-afternoon Dennis got a text
message. ‘Come and see me at gym tonite please. Cathy.’ He texted
back to confirm and spent the next couple of hours wondering what
she needed. Several times he pulled out his phone to ring her, but
decided she probably had her hands full with teaching extra classes
and wouldn’t want to be interrupted.

Straight after work he hurried
round to Intensity, running up the stairs at full speed and going
straight to her office.

“Hi Cathy, what’s up? Is
everything OK?” He rested a hand against the doorframe and assessed
her appearance. Her skin was paler than usual, the freckles
standing out in contrast. Shadows lurked under her eyes, and
several frown lines had deepened since he saw her last.

“How good are you with
accounting programs?” she asked quietly.

“I’ve got a pretty sound working
knowledge of the major ones. Why, are you still having
trouble?”

“I can’t make sense of the
bottom line figures. There are amounts among the spreadsheet rows
that don’t show up at the end. All I can think of is that something
has got through the firewall and jumbled the figures up just for
the hell of it. Are there viruses that can do that? Or a
hacker?”

Dennis frowned. “That sounds
serious. I haven’t come across anything like that, but it’s not to
say they don’t exist. Here, let me get at your computer and I’ll
have a look.”

Cathy pushed her chair back and
stood up, stretching the kinks from her lower back. “Ooh – I’ve
been hunched over that damn screen for too long. You have a go. But
only briefly, OK? I don’t want to interrupt your workout.”

He gave her a look intended to
convey that her problems were far more important than his exercise
schedule.

“Let’s see what we’re dealing
with here.” He cast an eye over the spreadsheet, checking totals as
he went. “I see what you mean. Looks good at first glance but
there’s definitely something wrong.”

“I’m glad it’s not just me going
insane,” she said. “But then again, it means something’s not right
with the gym’s accounts and that’s just as worrying.”

Dennis did a quick check on
Google for viruses and their effects but didn’t find anything that
matched Cathy’s scenario.

“Who has access to your
computer? Just you, or do other staff members use it?” He wanted to
hear that only Vincenzo had unrestricted access. This could be the
hard evidence against him that Cathy needed.

“It’s available for any of my
team to use when I’m teaching or when I’m not using it myself. I
suppose that’s not very sensible when it’s being used for running
everything, is it?”

“Not really, but you have to
work with what you’ve got sometimes.” He swung round in the chair
to face her. “Do you do online banking on this machine?”

Her eyes widened. “Yes.”

“Have you checked all your
accounts recently?” He said it as calmly as he could but saw her
face turn even paler. She lunged towards the keyboard and typed
frantically, pushing him aside with her hip. The bank website
popped up, she put in her passwords, and scrolled through the
account balances as she bent over the desk.