The Death of an Actor (The Bentley Hill Players Book 3) Read online

  After picking herself up off the floor, and watching Sophie chase Chris in to the distance, Zoe decided she needed a drink. A milkshake, to be precise, along with a large cream cake. The cafe on the marketplace had never been so pleased to see her. She drank and ate slowly, and had just got down to the bottom of the extra-tall shake when her phone vibrated in her pocket.

  She pulled it out and read the text message she had received.

  HELP BEEN KIDNAPPED ASK LILLIAN MURDER

  She ran out of the cafe and down the hill to Bentley.

  ***

  As was becoming common, there was a loud banging on Harry's front door. He left Sophie and Chris chatting in his lounge, and went to see who it was. He opened the door, and there was Zoe, out of breath, tears streaming down her face.

  "Zoe, what's wrong?"

  "....I...need...to...see...Chris...need...him..." she gasped.

  Sophie appeared behind Harry.

  "What is wrong with you?" she asked. "He's my boyfriend! Leave him alone! Crocodile tears won't cut it! Harry, send her away. She's not seeing him."

  Chris came out of the lounge. "Who made you the boss?"

  Zoe waved for them all to be quiet.

  "...My....dad...."

  "The loony?" asked Sophie.

  "...sent a....text..."

  "So clever, isn't he? Come on, Chris..."

  "...in trouble...kidnapped...murder..."

  "Murder?" said Harry.

  "....look!" she said, thrusting her phone in to his face.

  Harry read the message, and showed it to Sophie and Chris.

  "Does that mean he's going to murder Lillian?" asked Chris.

  ***

  "Well, first thing to do," said Harry, "is to call Lillian and see if she's OK."

  The others agreed, and Harry picked up the phone handset. He dialled Lillian's number, and waited as it rang. Each be-beep from the phone made him more nervous.

  Eventually, the call was picked up. A deep, husky voice answered.

  "Oo is it?"

  "Er..hello? I think I might have the wrong number. I was after Lillian Lovelace..."

  "Oh, hi, Harry! It's me! I just do that so people don't try and sell me double glazing over the phone. I've never wanted my phone double glazing anyway..."

  "Oh good. Look, this is kind of important. Have you seen or heard from Tom McLean today?"

  "Ooh yes, he was here not long ago. Quite angry he was. Said the police wanted him for parrot murder."

  "Parrot murder?"

  "Think so. I sent him up to see that butcher up the road. Jim rang not long ago about the same thing."

  "Butcher?"

  "Yeah, you know. The drug dealer guy."

  "Drug dealer?"

  "Yeah."

  "Lil, Zoe got a text from her dad that says he's been kidnapped, and it also says murder. Is he really a drug dealer?"

  "Is Emily there?"

  "No, why?"

  "In that case, yes, he's a drug dealer. He thinks I don't know, but I've seen him. Smoking his needles. Growing weeds in his yard. Thistles everywhere!"

  "I don't think that necessarily makes him a drug dealer, Lil. But I do think Tom's in danger."

  "Oh, shall I go up and see?"

  "NO!"

  "All right, keep your socks on. What's the plan?"

  "I don't know. I'm going to ring Jim and see what he knows."

  They both said goodbye, and as Harry hung up, a crackling and buzzing sound came from the kitchen.

  "Listen!" said Harry. "It's the parrot! See! I wasn't making it up!"

  The four of them piled in to Harry's kitchen as the electronic parrot burst in to life.

  "BZZT...Yeah mate, gonna be fun.....CRKT....You might have seen him on telly, local businessman...BZZT...Tom McLean...BZZT...be gone in about an hour...BZZT...I know, right? Another murder on the list, eh? BZZT CRKT....BZZT...crumpet...BZZT...and a knife...CRKT...."

  The parrot started sparking.

  "RUN!" yelled Harry.

  ***

  "Well, that wasn't a lot of help. Jim knows about as much as we do, but he seemed to know about the drug dealer up the road from Lillian. Why am I always the last one to find out about this stuff?"

  "Because you're a very innocent fellow, " said Sophie.

  "No he flamin' ain't!" laughed Chris.

  "Shut it, wingnut!" said Harry. "I told Jim we'd nip up to his bungalow and formulate a plan. As much as Tom can be annoying, and a complete pain, I wouldn't want him to come to any harm."

  "I know," said Sophie. "I don't really get along well with Zoe here, but if her dad's in trouble, we need to do something."

  Zoe started sobbing, and Chris put his arm around her. Sophie was about to glare at him, but thought better of it.

  "Hey, don't cry! He'll be OK!"

  "I'm not..sniff...crying because of that...sniff...it's because my dad has been awful to you..sniff...but you'll still try and help...sniff...even you, Sophie..."

  "Well, as soon as this is over, we can go back to hating each other. But for now, we're on the same team. So come on, let's get up to Jim's and get something done!"

  "Right, you lot scoot off, I've got a quick call to make, and then I'll lock up and be right with you," said Harry.

  ***

  Jim paced back and forth in his kitchen, while Anne sat at the kitchen table, watching him.

  "You're going to wear a hole in the floor, Jim. Stop it."

  "I can't. Tom's in danger, and we need to help. Walking around helps me to think."

  "It's good for your digestion too."

  "What?"

  "Walking. It's good for your digestion. Gravity helps the food go down. Helps you poo, too."

  Jim stopped pacing.

  "What the hell are you on about?"

  "Gravity helps you poo. It's common knowledge Jim, everyone knows that. That's why you don't stand on your head to poo."

  "Mmm. One of the many reasons, I'd imagine. Come on, help me now. How can we stop Tom being murdered?"

  "Are you sure we want to?"

  "What? Are you mad? A man's life could be in the balance here!"

  "Yes, but it's Tom. He's a bit...irksome."

  "Irksome?"

  "Yes. It means...he irks me."

  "And what does irk mean?"

  "I'm not sure, but I know it's not good."

  "But even if he does irk you, he might be in severe danger. Do you really think we shouldn't try and help?"

  Before she could answer, there was a knock on the front door. Anne quickly got up and went to see who it was.

  "Ah, Owen! Glad you could get here so quickly! Jim's being a nightmare..."

  "No better than I'd expect! Any chance of a drink?"

  Just as Anne was closing the door behind Owen, three more people arrived - Zoe, Sophie and Chris. As Zoe stepped over the threshold, still clearly upset, Anne threw her arms around her.

  "There there, sweetheart. Don't you worry. We'll sort this out."

  Zoe burst in to a fresh set of tears. "Why are you all being so nice to me?"

  A loud crash came from the kitchen.

  "OWEN! LEAVE THE FLAMIN' CAT ALONE!"

  ***

  Emily Ravenscroft arrived next, and Harry Blunt arrived last. Anne let him in, and they both joined everyone else at the large table in the conservatory. Jim stood up from his chair at the head of the table.

  "Right then, you 'orrible lot, we are gathered here today..."

  "Steady on, chap," said Owen. "We've not been dating that long..."

  "Shut up. We are gathered here today because a member of our community is in trouble, nay, danger. And more than that, his daughter, Zoe, is a friend of ours. Never mind what's happened before, and never hold the children responsible for the actions of their parents. The fact is, our friend Zoe is upset because her father is in danger. Hang on a minute. Did anyone ask Lillian to come over?"

  "No," said Harry. "I told her to keep an eye on the house up the road. If there's any
sign of action, she's going to ring me."

  "Are you sure that's wise?"

  "Do you have a better idea?"

  "I'm coming to that. Anyway, Zoe's upset, her dad is in danger. Petty squabbles over shows is one thing, trying to sell our building is another, but kidnap and murder are, er, another other thing. And one outweighs the other. Or rather, both do. More than the other. The first other, that is."

  "Blimey, this is strong," said Owen. "I've only had a sip and I can't understand a word he's saying. What is this, Anne?"

  "It's lemonade, Owen. You're not drunk, he's just talking rubbish."

  "You presume too much, my lady. I am drunk, but I appreciate the clarification on what Jimbo's saying."

  "Will both of you give over?" asked Jim, annoyed. "We need to rescue Tom. And I have a plan..."

  Chapter 17

  "So from our gathered intelligence," said Jim, "We know that Tom went to Lillian's flat, and she directed him to the drug dealer up the road. Tom went in there, and as far as we can tell, hasn't come out. While he's been in there, he sent a text to Zoe, saying he'd been kidnapped. I say we all go over there, one of us knocks on the door and distracts the bloke, the others go round the back and break in, find Tom, and get him out of there. Any questions?"

  "Who's going to knock?" asked Harry.

  "I reckon Owen. He expendable. I mean, experienced, at, er, knocking on doors."

  "Righto, Jimbo!" said Owen. "I'll start practising right now."

  He began knocking on the table.

  "OK...now, we'll need a crowbar, a hammer, and a blanket. OWEN! STOP IT!"

  "Sorry Jim."

  "Why do we need a blanket?" asked Sophie.

  "In case it's cold."

  "I don't think this is a good plan," said Chris.

  "Why not?" replied Jim. "You got a better one? No? Thought not..."

  "Well, yes, actually. Why don't I knock on the door, and tell the bloke I've called the police. Then he'll kidnap me, and I'll know exactly where Tom is. That's one step less than your plan, as we wouldn't have to look for Tom."

  Jim nodded. "Yeah. It'd be like killing two birds with one stone - no offence, Zoe, I'm not saying your dad killed the parrot. But exactly how would you let us know where you were, Chris?"

  "Er...hmm. Not sure. Might need to think it through a bit more."

  "I could rappel from a helicopter and smash through an upstairs window," said Owen.

  "What?" said Jim. "Where are you getting a helicopter from?"

  "Details!"

  "Important flamin' details, you idiot!"

  "Maybe I could train a few hundred sparrows to pick me up by the lapel, and throw me through a window!"

  "Maybe I could cut out the middle-man and just throw you through a window myself! This isn't helping, Owen!"

  "You really don't like working with animals, do you, Jimbo?"

  "I let you in the house, so don't knock it, sunshine. Now, really, who thinks my plan would work?"

  There was much discussion and debate, but in the end it was agreed that Jim's plan wasn't perfect, but just might work. All that remained was to work out who would be best suited to knocking on the door.

  "I could do it," said Jim. "But I think I'd be better suited to supervising the rescue. Any volunteers?"

  Every hand went up.

  "We need to keep him distracted for a few minutes, so I don't think you'll do, Anne. You aren't interesting enough."

  "Well thank you very much. You'll be getting your own tea later."

  "That's by the by. Emily, he's seen you already, so you're out. That leaves Harry, Chris, Sophie and Zoe. Each of you tell me why you'd be best."

  "What about me?" asked Owen.

  "What about you?"

  "I could distract him with a magic trick. See, the bottle of alcohol! Watch in wonder as I make it disappear!"

  "That's the very reason why not you. Guys?"

  "I could ask directions somewhere, and get him to come outside and show me," said Harry.

  "I could try and sell him something. Like biscuits. Or a sandwich," said Chris. Harry gave him a look.

  "I could smile sweetly," said Sophie. "Tell him my car broke down up the road, ask him to come and have a look."

  "That might just work," said Jim.

  "No," said Zoe. "That's a good idea, Sophie, and I think it will work. It's just, I'll do it. I don't want any of you knocking on the door. Coming face to face with this guy could be dangerous, and I don't want any of you getting hurt. You've been so kind. I'll do it. I'll knock on the door, tell him my car has broken down, and you guys can get in the back."

  Sophie shook her head. "Stealing my ideas..."

  "No, Sophie. No. Not stealing it. Using it, and keeping you safe. We're on the same team, remember?"

  "I know," said Sophie with a forced smile. "I was joking. Kind of."

  "All in favour of Zoe being the distraction, say aye!"

  It was unanimous. Harry ran down the hill to fetch his car, while half the Players got in Jim's car. Harry was soon back, and everyone else piled in to his car, and both vehicles set off towards Lillian's flat.

  ***

  Lillian sat on a chair in her front window, looking at the house up the street. She held a small telescope in her hand, and kept raising it to her eye to check the front door, just in case.

  The house looked the same as always, tatty front door and all. Nothing out of the ordinary seemed to be happening, which made Lillian wonder, how many people has the butcher murdered? And what kind of meat is he going to sell in his shop? I'm going vegetarian after all this is over. Except for beef, love a bit of steak, I do. And bacon. And ham. Pork is good too. And chicken. And turkey. Maybe I just won't eat rabbit. Mind you, rabbit can be tasty...

  She drummed her fingers on the arm of the chair.

  "I can't decide if I'm hungry, or just need something to happen. Well, there's only one way to find out."

  She stood up and walked through to the kitchen. She opened the fridge door, and rooted through the contents to see if there was something tasty.

  "Humph. Must go shopping tomorrow. Don't know why I bought this stuff. Or when I bought it, for that matter."

  Her mind was made up. She went in to the hallway, put on her walking shoes, and pulled on her coat.

  "Well, Anthony Zimbobbly Coldsore, I think it's time I paid you a visit."

  So saying, she stepped out the front door, and locked it behind her.

  Chapter 18

  The two cars pulled up outside Lillian's flat, one behind the other. Harry and Jim were the first to get out, and decided it was best to let Lillian know what was happening. Harry walked up the short path and knocked on the door.

  He waited for quite a while before knocking again. Still, there was no reply.

  "Jim!" he called down the path. "She's not answering!"

  "Let me take a look," said Owen.

  Owen walked up to the front door, and peered through the letterbox. Not satisfied with what he could see, he took three steps backwards, then ran as fast as he could towards the door. At the last second, he swung ninety degrees to the right, and ran round the side of the building. He headed for the fence that secured the back of the property, and rotated just as he reached it, jumping over it like he was a participant in the high jump. A moment passed, and there was a smashing sound, then a creak, then a thud.

  Another minute passed, and there was a rattling sound from nearby. The door to the flat next door opened, and out stepped Owen.

  "What number does she live at?" he asked.

  "Well that was a waste of time..." said Jim.

  "Maybe not!" said Owen, pointing up the road to Lillian as she stepped inside the home of Anthony Cohen.

  "Right! Action stations!" shouted Jim.

  ***

  The Bentley Hill Players formed a crowd around the back fence of Anthony Cohen's flat. Jim gently eased a crowbar between the slats, and gave a wave to Zoe to signal they were ready. Zoe took a deep bre
ath and walked up to the front door. She knocked, and waited. The door opened a crack a few seconds later.

  "Whoozit?"

  "Hi, my name is, um, Kerry, and..."

  "What ya sellin'?"

  "Nothing, nothing. You see, my car has broken down up the road, and I don't know what to do..."

  "Call the RAC, love. I ain't a mechanic."

  The door slammed shut. Zoe sucked her bottom lip in, and let it out with a pop.

  "Right, that's how it is. OK. OK. Deep breath. Second attempt."

  She knocked again.

  The door opened a crack again.

  "Do you have a telephone?"

  "Yes, thanks."

  The door closed.

  Zoe stamped her foot and grunted loudly. She knocked again. There was a clunk, and the door opened fully, revealing Anthony Zimbabwe Cohen in all his grimy glory.

  "Yes?"

  "Look, my car has broken down, and I either need your help, or just to use your phone. Would that be OK?"

  "Er..not really. I'm kind of in the middle of something. A couple of things, actually."

  "But it's freezing out here!"

  "No, it isn't. Hey, don't I know you?"

  "I don't think so..."

  "Your face is familiar...did you used to work at the artificial tree factory in Westlake?"

  "No, my dad own..er...wouldn't let me...something..."

  "Oh my days! It's you! You're his daughter! Are you lot stalking me? C'mere!"

  He grabbed the collar of her jacket, dragged her inside, and slammed the door shut behind them.

  ***

  "He just dragged her inside!" said Emily.

  "Oh, that's no good. We can't go in if they're inside..." said Jim.

  "No, he's taken her too! He's got three people in there now!"

  "Well this is useless. We came to rescue one person, and now we've lost two extra. Any ideas Harry?"

  Harry's eyes widened, and he shook his head. He tried to think of something - anything - they could do, but his mind was blank.

  "We could ring the police, tell them to hurry?"

  "Too late for that. Chris?"