At the dress rehearsal that evening, the Aldens sat in the audience with Aunt Jane and Ray Shaw. The play was fall of suspense—the children watched as Lady Chadwick tracked down clues to find the thief of a priceless diamond necklace. In the final act, with all the suspects gathered together, Lady Chadwick summed up the case. “I came across a footprint in the dried mud,” she said. “After making a plaster mold of the print, I soon discovered it fit someone’s shoe exactly. In fact, the thief is in this very room. I believe the butler did it!”
The Aldens suddenly looked at one another in surprise. “Did you hear that?” whispered Benny.
“Yes,” Jessie whispered back. “There’s a mistake in the play!”
Henry nodded. “If Lady Chadwick made the mold when the mud was dry—”
“The footprint would’ve shrunk!” finished Violet.
Jessie agreed. “It would never fit the butler’s shoe exactly.”
As the curtain went down, Aunt Jane turned to the director. “What a wonderful play!” she said, clapping along with the children. Ray looked pleased. “I just hope it goes half as well on opening night.”
Backstage, they found everyone gathered together in one of the dressing rooms. The cast and crew were helping themselves to the hot and cold food set out on a long table. The children followed the line of people slowly around the table while Aunt Jane went over to congratulate Fern Robson.
After helping themselves to the different dishes, the Aldens sat down in a corner with their heaping plates. “Did you get some of Aunt Jane’s sweet-and-sour meatballs, Benny?” Violet asked. “They’re really good.”
Benny nodded as he crunched into a pickle. “Should we tell Ray?” he asked. “About the footprint, I mean.”
“Let’s hold off on that for now,” Jessie suggested, as she looked around at all the smiling faces.
Henry was quick to agree. “Everybody’s having such a good time. It’d be a shame to spoil it.”
Just then, something caught Violet’s eye. “Don’t all look at once,” she said, “but isn’t that Gil Diggs talking to Ray?”
One by one, the other Aldens looked over. “That’s Gil, all right,” Jessie said in surprise. “I wonder what he’s doing here?”
“Beats me,” said Henry. “He’s not exactly a big fan of the Trap-Door Theater.”
A moment later, Aunt Jane sat down beside Benny. “I was just having a chat with Gil,” she said. “Guess what he told me?”
The children were instantly curious. “What was it, Aunt Jane?”
“He’s planning to turn his movie theater into a children’s playhouse!”
Benny’s eyebrows shot up. “A playhouse?” he echoed. “You mean, like our boxcar?”
Aunt Jane smiled a little. “Not exactly, Benny. Instead of showing movies in his theater, he’ll be putting on plays for children.”
“That’s not a bad idea,” Henry said, thoughtfully.
“Gil stopped by to get some pointers from Ray,” Aunt Jane explained. “Apparently, he got a loan from the bank. Of course,” she added, “it’ll mean shutting his theater down for a while to build a stage. But Gil thinks it’ll be worth it.”
Jessie suddenly understood. That’s what Gil had meant on the phone: he was talking about shutting down his own theater!
The Aldens looked at one another. They were each thinking the same thing. They could cross Gil Diggs off their list of suspects.
“Ah, there you are, Jane!” Ray hurried over with Tricia Jenkins. “I wanted to introduce you to our contest winner.”
Aunt Jane held out her hand. “So nice to meet you, Tricia. I don’t know when I’ve enjoyed a play more,” she said with a warm smile. “By the way, do you know the children? This is Henry and—”
“We’ve met,” Tricia broke in, barely looking over.
Jessie and Henry exchanged glances. It was clear Tricia wasn’t pleased to see them again.
“That surprise twist in the last act was brilliant,” Aunt Jane went on. “I never saw it coming!”
Ray nodded approvingly. “Tricia has a real gift for keeping an audience on the edge of their seats. Right, Fern?” he added, as the actress joined their group.
“Yes, it’s a wonderful play,” Fern agreed, looking over at the author. “One thing, though, Tricia. I always try to understand the character I’m playing. Maybe you could shed some light on Lady Chadwick’s hat.”
Tricia blinked in surprise. “What are you talking about?”
“I’m talking about the flowers,” said Fern. “It must mean something that Lady Chadwick wears them on her hat.”
“It means she likes carnations.” Tricia shrugged. “It’s as simple as that.”
“You mean marigolds,” Fern said. “Those are yellow marigolds on her hat.”
“No, they’re carnations, aren’t they?” Tricia argued.
“Marigolds,” Fern said, shaking her head.
“Well … whatever,” said Tricia, shrugging.
“I’m surprised at you, Tricia,” Fern told her. “You underlined ‘yellow marigolds’ in your script. How could you forget?”
“Honestly, Fern!” Tricia snapped. “Why do you have to make such a big deal out of everything? Lady Chadwick is fond of yellow marigolds. End of story.”
Jessie caught Henry’s eye. Why was Tricia getting so upset?
“Alice Duncan liked them, too,” Benny was saying. “Yellow marigolds, I mean.”
Tricia seemed startled by Benny’s remark. “I’m afraid I wouldn’t know about that,” she said, fiddling nervously with her necklace. “I never had the pleasure of meeting Alice Duncan.”
Violet couldn’t help noticing the gold heart on the chain around Tricia’s neck. The heart was engraved with the letters P.J. Something seemed oddly familiar about the initials. But Violet couldn’t quite put her finger on what it was.
“Well, I think Alice would be very pleased if she knew yellow marigolds appeared in the winning play,” Aunt Jane remarked. “They were her favorite flower.”
Ray chuckled. “Alice was quite a character, wasn’t she? And how about that old typewriter of hers? Now, there’s a real antique!”
Aunt Jane nodded. “The keys kept sticking, but that never stopped Alice.”
“I prefer a computer, myself,” Tricia said, her voice cold. “I can’t imagine using an old typewriter that doesn’t print w at all.” With that, she turned and walked away.
Jessie stared after her, puzzled. Nobody had mentioned the typewriter wouldn’t print w. How did Tricia know?
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