"The most powerful weapon on earth is the human soul on fire." -Ferdinand Foch
"Hey, guv, I was here first!"
"I beg your pardon, but we were next in line, sir!"
"Don't be beef-headed, guv, me and me mate have been here for 10 minutes and we is next!"
"What seems to be the problem here?" A new voice with a thick Scottish accent broke into the debate. The two men, each of different classes, both looked up with some degree of wariness to the very tall man in the bowler hat. They were at odds in front of a small ticket window at the Alhambra Theatre on Leicester Street.
The evening air was brisk and the clouds had moved enough so that the waning crescent moon appeared in the sky, its light reflecting off the wet cobblestones around Leicester Square. The night was a mix of cool November and heated discussions, as cabmen disputed fares, street boys tried to sell their wares and young ladies negotiated their way into the theatre on the arms of young gentlemen.
The man who wore the more average clothes spoke up, "What business is it of yours, guv?" The other man, in a top hat and tuxedo jacket, said, "Indeed, sir?" and waited for the tall man's answer.
The tall man said in a very calm and even voice, "Well, I'm a Detective Inspector with Scotland Yard, it's my duty to investigate crimes and right now, it appears as if you two fine gentlemen are disturbing the peace in a public place. I'd hate to call over one of the constables there to assist me in making an arrest," he pointed to a beat constable up the street, "especially since it will mean both of you and myself, will miss the show happening inside. So why don't each of you settle down and take a turn buying your tickets as the alternative will be considerably less pleasant?".
The two men looked at him, took in his height and looked at each other. The lower class man looked at the upper-class man and said, "Age before beauty?" as he gestured to the window to let him go first.
The upper-class man frowned at him but then took his opportunity to purchase his tickets first. No further arguments continued.
When the detective Inspector approached the window and asked for his ticket, the lady inside asked, "You're an officer of Scotland Yard?"
"I am," he said, "Detective Inspector Wellington."
"Well, Inspector, first, thank you for settling down that situation. And second, you'll be glad to know that the Alhambra has a house policy: all members of the Crown and the police are allowed free admittance. Here's your token," she said, handing him a metal circular token punched with a hole in the center. "The drinks at the bars however are not on the house. Enjoy the show," she said.
William took his token and walked up to the main door. There he noticed the poster just to the right of it: "At the Alhambra! 8 o'clock, a new comic drama 'A Phenomenon in a Smock Frock', 9 o'clock, the Christy Minstrels, by Riviere, at 10 o'clock the first act of the new magnificent Ballet 'Amor Derelicta' by The Harry Baleno Troupe from France."
William raised his eyebrows in surprise. A ballet? he thought. He had been invited by a performer to come see her show at 10 pm, but he didn't realize she was a dancer. He wished he was dressed a bit more carefully, he wanted to make more of an impression on the lady he hoped to meet inside. He had just come from the Yard still wearing his usual suit and waistcoat. Otherwise, he was rather pleased. Perhaps this evening will turn out to be quite enjoyable, he thought.
William approached the main entrance and handed his token to a big man in a red uniform. As he stepped inside, he was greeted by a wall of noise: music, laughter, singing and many voices talking. He stood in the promenade, a large area of people milling about. The promenade encircled the ground floor with a railing around it leading to the main floor where the seats and personal boxes were located and the stage beyond. There was a bar halfway down the promenade with a matching one on the other side of the house and one more bar in an alcove on the right where a dark staircase took people below the theatre. Each bar was full of shiny liquor bottles and brass beer-pumps tended by two or three barmaids each, ready to cater to anyone's thirst requirements. There were women everywhere socializing, laughing and drinking with young gentlemen happy to purchase their drinks to keep them talking.
William removed his bowler and tucked it under his left arm. He headed to the bar to the left of the promenade to order a whiskey. As he walked back toward the middle of the promenade floor, Detective Colin Bremond passed him.
"Inspector! I didn't know you were coming this evening," he said, smiling.
William sipped his whisky and replied, "I didn't plan on it, but I finished up the paperwork on the Blaine murder and well, I was invited here by one of the dancers. So, here I am."
"Just a moment, I'm going for a drink and then you can join me in the police personal box." He pointed to the same bar William had just left.
"The Yard has a personal box?" William asked.
"Unofficially. The Yard doesn't pay for it, but the owner, Mr. Frederick Strange, keeps a box for constables, sergeants, detectives and Inspectors if they wish to use it. I hear the new Superintendent has been a few times," Bremond said.
First, free admission and now use of a personal box, William thought. "I assume there's a quid pro quo?" William asked, smiling wryly.
"I think it's to avoid having a liquor license review," Colin said, smiling, walking to the bar.
William just grunted his assent and took another swig of whiskey, watching the crowd milling about outside the main hall.
Colin returned with his drink and gestured toward the entrance to the main theatre hall. William looked up as he walked into the hall: the height of the ceiling was epic— a panopticon dome covered the ceiling, part of the original construction of this building when it was erected in 1858. There were balcony boxes cantilevered along the round walls and a gallery upstairs where people could sit at tables and eat and drink while watching the show. On the third level was the penny gallery, only the lowest riff-raff tended to head up there.
"Right down this way, Inspector," Colin gestured toward the left of the theatre. They walked down to the personal box which was next to an open doorway leading to a darkened hallway.
On the stage was a group of singers, singing silly and innuendo-filled songs. The crowd was clapping and laughing along.
They entered their box and took a seat. William removed his coat and set his hat down on another seat, then checked his watch. It was about ten minutes to ten. The ballet was soon to start. He took another swig of whiskey.
Colin sipped his beer and turned to William and asked, "Did you say that one of the dancers asked you to the show tonight?"
William replied, "Well, yes, but she invited me late Tuesday when I met her at the Red Phoenix after a long day. The Blaine case kept me from attending until tonight."
"Oh, that new pub on Villiers Street, near the Station?"
"Aye, that's the one," William confirmed. The lads at the Yard had said the brew was cheap and the food good and so William opted to go there instead of going home right away.
William thought back to that evening 3 nights ago. He'd gone to the new pub, exhausted from a very long workday and had noticed a lively group of men and women enter shortly after he had. One lady had caught his eye: she moved gracefully amongst the other women and men, laughing and drinking. She had noticed him all by himself and sauntered over toward him. He was a bit apprehensive at her approach, as he thought she could be a prostitute looking for a client, but she was quite beautiful and he allowed her to sit across from him and talk to him. She introduced herself as Arienne Blaise and they managed to have a nice discussion for 40 minutes, each enjoying the other's accent as she was French. When her group began to depart, she stood up to leave, touched his arm and hinted seductively that she wished she was going home with him. He was a bit shocked at her forwardness, but no less titillated by it. She then told him she needed to rest for the next day's rehearsal at the Alhambra and he should come to her 10 pm nightly show. She had not revealed anything more about herself. His interest was piqued.
William didn't elaborate any of this to Colin, as he was not yet well-acquainted with the Detective Sergeant since he joined his team late Summer. Instead, he glanced around and changed the subject. "There must be over a thousand people in here," he said to Colin.
Colin put his beer down after another swig and said, "It may be closer to two thousand. The Alhambra is the only theatre in town that allows women to enter unescorted. This theatre can house 3000 people and you can bet that half of them will be lotties and totties looking for an evening with a gentry cove. There were a few of them trying to 'befriend' me by providing them with a drink or two." He smiled wryly. William guffawed. He knew Colin was not married and so he had his choice of ladies. Colin was younger than his former detective Frank Jenkins but was just a few years older than William. He had heard that Colin Bremond had a reputation of being a ladies' man, his sandy blonde hair and freckles endearing his youthful appearance to women. But then, William had the same reputation amongst the constabulary, and it was only partially true.
"I noticed the plethora of finely dressed ladies out there. You did not choose one to join you?" he asked, genuinely curious.
Colin sipped more beer. "Nah, not tonight," he said smiling. William nodded and assumed that he was fibbing slightly to save face.
"You must come here often, then?" William asked, fishing for more details.
Colin gave a wry smile. "Actually, I had not attended until recently. Have you ever watched a ballet?"
William shook his head and swigged some more whiskey.
"It's quite something. I've seen this first act twice already this week and watched the entire three acts last Saturday evening. I guarantee you'll enjoy it." Colin raised his eyebrows with innuendo. William raised his eyebrows in surprise. Colin leaned back into his seat and looked to the stage. "You'll see what I mean," he said, drinking more beer.
The stage had gone dark except for the floor gaslights. The orchestra in the pit had gone quiet as the previous act had finished. A limelight appeared and a delicate man with a big moustache and thinning brown hair came onstage. "Welcome ladies and gentlemen to the Alhambra!" he announced to the crowd. They applauded with enthusiasm. He continued in his Italian accent: "Tonight, the Harry Baleno Troupe will perform the first act of the ballet, 'Amor Derelicta', written by me, Harry Baleno. If you like what you see, you may come tomorrow to see all three acts at 2:30 and then again at 8 o'clock. And now, please welcome my beautiful French dancers to the stage!" The audience applauded once more as he backed out of the light. Then there was a swell of music and the limelight hit stage right and the dance troupe entered. William's eyes grew wide. The audience cheered. About six small women in leotards and calf-length tutus entered and began spinning and dancing. They danced on their pointe shoes and raised their legs high and spun in place. It was mesmerizing. The gaslights highlighted their shapely legs, and their costumes exposed their necks, shoulders and graceful arms.
Another change in music and the ballerino, the male ballet dancer, entered and joined the women. Another cheer from the crowd as he flitted around the stage for a minute or so.
"It's impressive," Colin leaned over and whispered.
"Isn't it just?" William responded, smiling wide, eyes glued to the stage.
Just as he finished his sentence, the music swelled yet again and the ballerino reached out his hand to stage right and the Danseuse Principale entered with a spin and leap, landing en pointe and holding his hand. The crowd cheered even louder.
"Christ almighty," William swore.
Colin looked over at William. "Is that your lady?" he asked.
"Yes," he responded, mesmerized, gaping at the woman on the stage. She was stunning.
"Wow," Colin smiled, impressed.
Arienne was graceful and beautiful, dancing with athleticism that William didn't know was possible. Her brown hair was pulled up tightly into a bun on top of her head, her costume was a different colour than the other dancers, almost a pink blush, and her shorter tutu showcased more of her legs. Her arms and neck were exposed by the chemise she wore and she smiled like she was the happiest creature on the Earth. The ballerino danced with her, holding her, lifting her and framing her as if she were a work of art.
They continued to watch the two dancers perform their story across the stage. The crowd was equally mesmerized and the din of the audience quieted for the bulk of the performance.
Colin leaned toward William after about 30 minutes, and said, "You know, if you wish to surprise her, you could go backstage and wait for her in her dressing room before the show finishes. It's almost done."
William looked at Colin. "I could?" Colin nodded.
He looked back at the stage and saw Arienne smiling broadly as she struck a pose and the ballerino lifted her in the air. He took a second to decide.
"How do I get backstage?"
Colin pointed to the open doorway behind them that was walled off and said, "If anyone asks why you're there, give them her name and tell them she invited you. They'll show you to her door."
William wondered briefly how he knew this, but thanked him, then left his hat, coat and drink on his chair and stepped through the door. It was a darkened hallway with a down staircase to the left that had an arrow and "The Canteen" painted on the brick wall. To the right, there were a few steps that led up toward the stage. He followed them and found himself in the wings to stage right. There were racks of clothing along the hallway, and wooden crates piled against the walls, full of props and other accoutrements. It was pitch black except for the glow of the stage lights beyond. He stopped to watch the dancing again. Arienne moved gracefully with the ballerino and all the other dancers. He became aware of a female stagehand in silhouette when a couple of dancers entered the wing and obtained costume pieces from her. Once they were changed they went back out to the stage. He looked out at Arienne again. Across the stage William could see the man who introduced the show, standing out of view of the audience, smiling and encouraging the dancers. William smiled, enjoying the behind-the-scenes look of this unique performance. He moved past the wing opening and found the hallway dimly lit with doors leading to dressing rooms. Each was numbered and had a piece of paper with handwritten names on them. He found room #6 with "A. Blaise Principal Dancer, Baleno Troupe'' written on it. He knocked quietly to be sure no one was inside and entered.
He looked around the room, her lamps still lit, clothes and costumes visible behind a partially closed closet door, pots of makeup on the dressing table. He sat in the chair in front of the table and checked his pocket watch. Colin had told him this act was only about 40 minutes, so he figured he'd wait for her to come back here, offer to take her out for drinks or a late supper and then after that...who knows?
He had not waited 2 minutes when the door opened. He stood, expecting Arienne to float in, but it was not her. A woman entered with an armload of costume pieces.
She put them down on a table near the door and she jumped, startled to see him there. Then she gasped. William recognized her, his face showing shock.
At the same moment, they both said, "What are you doing here?!"
William was staring at Eliza Scarlet who was gaping back at him aghast.