Theatre of Blood Page #5

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as you destroyed me?

How many talented lives

have you cut down with your glib attacks?

What do you know of the blood,

sweat and toil of a theatrical production?

Of the dedication of the men and the

women in the noblest profession of all?

How could you know, you talentless fools,

who spew vitriol

on the creative efforts of others

because you lack the ability

to create yourselves?

No, Devlin, no! I did not

kill Larding and the others.

Punished them, my dear boy,

punished them.

Just as you shall have to be punished.

Well, get it over with, then.

So long as you dont make me have to

listen to that demented rubbish of yours.

- Go on, kill me, then.

- Ill kill you when I am ready.

Next week, next month,

perhaps next year.

Oh, I am going to make you suffer

as you have made me suffer.

Argh!

You didnt have to go to such pains

to prove Lionheart was still alive.

Pains!

Or someone else is impersonating him.

Ive seen Lionheart in the theatre

hundreds of times. It was him.

Actually, Mr Devlin, were convinced

youre right. Its Lionheart. Hes our man.

Naturally, we had to release his daughter.

Id keep an eye on her, if I were you.

Shes a devoted daughter.

Dont worry.

Shell be under constant surveillance.

Now, the next play is Othello.

Whats that all about, then?

(clears throat)

A malicious man persuades his

benefactor that his wifes been unfaithful

and drives him into murdering her.

Mr Psaltery, sir.

This is a friend speaking, sir.

(hippy) It may be wise ifyou were to leave

the office and go home early tonight, sir.

You might learn something

very interesting about your wife.

(woman) Yoo-hoo!

Here I am.

Im so glad youve come. You know

how I look forward to your visits.

(Scottish accent) And how is wee

Maisie Psaltery this bonny day, hey?

Dont keep me waiting,

you naughty man. Im ready.

(moans)

I felt so wonderful after the last time.

But, you know, I had a slight pain

after one of your visits.

Do you think I may have a slipped disc?

A wee rubll make it feel better.

Mmm.

Ooh!

You see, my husband and I

Iead a very active s...ocial life.

(Maisie moaning)

(Maisie) Ooh! Oh!

- (fingers crack)

- Ooh! Ooh!

Does that hurt?

- Hm?

- Beautiful.

(moans in pleasure)

- (creaking)

- (Maisie moans intermittently)

- Maisie! Maisie! Open this door!

- Oh, my God! lts him.

- Whatll he think?

- Open up! I know youre there.

Let me go! Hes insanely jealous.

Hell kill me.

(Maisie screams)

Oh, let go! Let go! Argh!

Damn adulterous b*tch!

- Ill choke the living daylights out of you.

- (Maisie screams)

Youll be outnumbered, Psaltery, at least

20-1 . Thats how many lovers shes had.

Dont. Dont, please.

You dont understand.

No! No! No!

(chokes)

Down, strumpet!

Officer, if lm not mistaken,

Mr Psalterys murdering his wife.

Oh, thank you, sir.

Poor devil. Lionheart certainly

knew what his weakness was.

- Jealousy?

- Yeah.

Its incredible.

I gather from the constable on duty

outside that hes been coming for weeks.

But how does this fit in

with Lionhearts scheme?

Mrs Psaltery is dead, not Psaltery.

Well, hes as good as dead, isnt he?

At his age hell never leave prison alive.

No. Lionhearts destroyed him

just as surely as if hed murdered him.

I read the next play on the list last night.

Henry the Sixth, Part One.

- Theres more than one murder in that.

- Inspector, there are only three of us left.

- Miss Moon, Merridew and...

- And yourself.

Myself.

Surely the entire might of the London

police force can stop us being killed.

Hopefully, Mr Devlin.

Hopefully.

Hey!

Sorry, darling, youre too late.

Were closed.

Yes, but Henri called me.

He changed the appointment to seven.

Oh.

What name is it, then?

Miss Moon.

Oh, yeah. Thats cool.

Shampoo, set, pedicure. Right.

- Henris had to go, but Butch is still here.

- Henri always takes care of me.

Butch is very chic. Does Princess

Margarets hair - chicks like that.

Oh, well. In that case...

Hello. Im Butch.

Hey, dishy, dishy hair.

Cant wait to get my hands on it.

Whos this great big, beautiful thing

with you? ls he yours?

Only just.

Come on, baby. Let me get to it.

Let me get at it, huh?

You just sit there, baby, and relax, huh?

She wont be long.

I wish youd let me do something camp

with the colour, darling.

I mean, like, well...

Iike flame with ash highlights.

These are very funny rollers, Butch.

Naughty, naughty. Dont touch.

Butch knows best.

Theyre something new from Gay Paree.

What are you doing?

You know, lm very uncomfortable.

I cant move.

Bring forth that sorceress

condemned to burn.

Thats from Henry the Sixth,

ducky, Part One.

Its a very interesting play,

dont you think so, Miss Moon?

Especially that scene where

Joan of Arc dies at the stake.

Though lm afraid you might find

our novel version of it a bit of a shock.

(cries)

And hark ye, sirs, because she is a maid

Spare for no fagots, let there be enow:

Place barrels of pitch upon the fatal stake,

That so her torture may be shortened.

Yet, forsooth, she is a virgin pure.

Use no entreaty, for it is in vain.

Break thou in pieces

and consume to ashes,

Thou foul accursed minister of hell!

- Dyou mind if I talk to her in private?

- No, certainly.

Thank you for coming.

- As you can see, I couldnt get away.

- What do you want, Edwina?

Well, this morning before I left the house

to come here, the phone rang.

It was my fathers voice.

I couldnt believe it. To hear

his voice again, to know hes alive.

- What did he say?

- You were right all along. Hes alive.

- Where is he?

- I cant tell you. Not yet.

For Gods sake! There was

another murder last night. Miss Moon.

Yes, I know. I read it in the papers.

He admits to the killings.

Hell give himself up.

Then take us to him.

Ill call lnspector Boot.

No. If he sees me with the police,

hes bound to disappear again.

- Hes a frightened man.

- Hes frightened?!

Hes frightened that

the police might shoot him on sight.

Do you want me to come with you?

- But... would you?

- Where is he?

He promised hed phone me

and tell me where later.

All right. When he does,

lll pick you up in my car.

- Promise well be alone.

- Right.

Dont try and trick me, Devlin.

He is my father.

No matter what hes done,

I must play fair with him.

Perfect. Absolutely perfect.

Thank goodness

no one can get near enough to notice

the dazed, glazed, drunken,

idiotic expression in his eyes.

- You are to obey my orders. Dyou hear?

- Yes, sir.

Now, let us see what that stupid cretin

Mr Meredith Merridew had to say

about my Titus Andronicus.

Mr Lionhearts rendering of the role

can only be described as villainous.

Laid between the delicately

underplayed performances

of Miss Lillywhite as Lavinia

and Miss Mole as Tamora,

one is irresistibly reminded of

a ham sandwich.

My reputation.

Hark, villain!

I will grind your bones to dust,

And make two pasties

of your shameful head.

Now you know what he looks like, so

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