At Macbeth’s banquet, the guests drank heartily from their cups, only to discover that they contained vinegar which they tried to spit out surreptitiously. During the climactic duel scene between Macbeth and Macduff, Macduff’s sword blade flew out of its handle, leaving him facing Macbeth clutching only the hilt. Macbeth looked dumbfounded, then turned and fled incongruously, followed by his weaponless foe. When Macduff returned, carrying the somehow severed head of Macbeth, it had a round, red clown’s ball on the nose.
While this dramatic disaster was taking place, I was sitting backstage, trying to clear my head and deduce who the villain was. Only one person had the opportunity, but he had no motive: Rick.
The cast, including me, took their curtain call to a weak smattering of applause. Probably never before had a Shakespearean tragedy provoked so much laughter. Afterwards, I took a chance and accosted Rick in front of the cast. “Why did you want to wreck this production, Rick?”
I had expected denials, but perhaps confession is good for the soul because he readily confessed. “I never wanted to have anything to do with the theatre, but from my earliest childhood Uncle Orville indoctrinated me with the idea that I wanted to be an actor. I’m too introverted and nervous. He wanted to be one, but he was too busy making money and he had no children, so he used me to fulfill his ambition. I thought if I did a bad enough job, I could escape the theatre. I’m sorry I ruined your play.”
The cast was silent, perhaps in sympathy. Then the cast party began and the mood gradually improved.
Graham approached me. “Thank you, Mr. Petty. I’m sure the next two nights will go better. By the way, you were great. People thought you were really drunk.”
“Maybe it’s what they call Method Acting.”
“Anyway, we’d like you to play the lead in our next play.”
“What is it?”
“The Lost Weekend. The story of a drunk. Ray Milland starred in the movie.”
I remembered his Oscar-winning portrayal of Don Birnam and noted the coincidence of the name, the same as the wood in Macbeth. The next two nights, however, without Rick’s flask, I gave a less spirited performance (if you’ll forgive another pun) and there was no further mention of this, or any other role for me.
I returned to reading novels and waiting for another case for a non-violent, geriatric detective.
