Chapter 9
"Anthrax?" asked Molly Jamieson breathlessly. To think! Real-life drama in Sherrington! Why, it was better than the afternoon soaps.
"Yes, yes, terrible thing," Colin said loftily. "Absolutely fatal, not to mention deadly."
"But how could anthrax have come in contact with the costumes?" She peered over the top of her half-moon glasses at the contamination-suited Colin, complete with a large bag with a radioactive symbol on it.
"Oh, well, any number of ways," replied Colin breezily. "Now, if I could just isolate the garments . . ."
"You don't suppose it could be . . . sabotage, do you?" Molly asked, in the same breathless fashion. "There's always been bad blood between us and the Macton Amateur Dramatics Society since we both wanted to put on The Sound Of Music at the same time. You don't think they could have . . . And then there's the fancy dress costumes that have gone missing as well! My stars! What is happening here?" She flopped dramatically into her chair and fanned herself with an old programme.
"Well, anything is possible, Ms Jamieson," said Colin politely. "Now, if I could please just . . ."
"I'll jolly well ring that Simon Goodfellow up in Macton and ask him what his amateurs are playing at!" said Molly, spurred into action. She reached towards the telephone. Colin seized his chance and headed towards the storage area. This time, he unzipped and inspected the contents of the suit bags hanging on racks before making the swap.
Wheeling the clothes rack past the office door, he heard Molly delivering a piece of her somewhat addled mind to the unfortunate and innocent Simon Goodfellow of the Macton Amateur Dramatics Society.
"And as for your so-called star, Raymond Adams, I've seen picket fences that are less wooden!"
Colin was feeling unusually magnanimous now that he had the right costumes firmly in his grasp and tapped on the door. Molly covered the phone and looked up at him expectantly, eyes ablaze with the thrill of the drama.
"Ms Jamieson? I have all of the suspected contaminated garments now. Nothing to worry about. There are some other costumes hanging behind the door in the storage area. I don't suppose they are the ones you are missing?" With that, Colin sailed out of the Sherrington community theatre and loaded the costumes into a waiting mini-van.
"Thanks for picking me up, Uncle," he said. "I'll make it worth your while. How much do you think I should charge for decontaminating these costumes?"