revealed me as a fraud.
“This past fall. You have what, three shows in
the fall season?”
48 — F l i g h t o f A q u av i t
“Uh-huh. But, I only just started working here
this month.”
I was not shocked by this news.
“There’s really no one else here who could
help.” She screwed up her face. I’m sure she was
wondering if that meant she’d actually have to do
something herself. “Our last show just closed and
most of the management people are gone on
Christmas break. They’ll be back after the holi-
days though,” she added sluggishly.
“Oh dear, well, I’ll have to cast the show long
before then. I’d hate for this actor to lose this
opportunity to make some good money doing
wonderful theatre.”
She nodded sympathetically. “Yeah, yeah,
that’s for sure. But I don’t know how we could
help you without a name or anything.”
Perfect, just the opening I was looking for. “Do
you have a copy of the programs for the shows
you’ve done this past season?”
“Well, yeah, sure.”
“Could I take a boo?”
“Huh?”
“Take a look, dear, could I please take a look at
those programs?”
“What show did you say it was?” Her voice
was whiny, as if she was beginning to strongly
suspect this might involve some effort on her
behalf.
“Unfortunately I don’t recall. Could I see all
three?”
She lethargically pulled open a drawer that
must have weighed several tonnes given the effort
Anthony Bidulka — 49
she expended to do so and pulled out just the doc-
uments I was looking for. I quickly scanned the
first one and was gratified to see that indeed the
photographs of each of the actors for each produc-
tion, as well as those of the staff of the theatre,
were semi-glossily reproduced in miniature. I went
over all the pictures in the three programs and
identified five men who could conceivably fit the
description of Jo given to me by Daniel Guest. So
far so good. Next hurdle.
I looked up at Rebecca and judged her recov-
ered enough from the drawer opening adventure
to move ahead with a new task. “Now, I ask all
actors I work with to leave me copies of their
resumes, just in case I wish to work with them
again. I’m sure Persephone’s artistic director must
do the same.” I had no idea whether this was true,
but I was guessing Rebecca didn’t either. I laid
down the three programs opened to the pages
with the pictures of the actors in question.
“Perhaps you might have a look-see in your
files?” I knew how I would go about finding Jo, I
just hoped Rebecca was up to the task. I also
hoped she didn’t realize I’d suddenly lost my
accent. Drat, I hate when I do that!
“Well I suppooooossssse Sheila could get into
the office where the files are kept.” More whining.
“What a great idea!” I announced buoyantly.
“Tell you what,” I said glancing at my watch. “I
have another appointment. Why don’t I attend to
it then return afterward, say in an hour or so? That
should give you and dear Sheila plenty of time to
find a few resumes and make copies, wouldn’t
50 — F l i g h t o f A q u av i t
you say?” I grabbed a scrap of paper and pen from
her desktop and scrawled down my cellphone
number. Although I didn’t really expect her to call,
I was on a roll and had just thought up one more
Rick Astley hit I hadn’t used yet. I handed the
paper to her and with juvenile satisfaction said,
“And if you get done early, just ‘Dial My
Number.’”
Chapter 3
I RETURNED TO MY CAR, started it for warmth and
sat in the Persephone Theatre parking lot eating
my muffin and hoping Rebecca was leaping into
action. Something told me I shouldn’t rush getting
back. When I was done chowing down, I took
22nd Street to the Circle Drive freeway and
arrived at the Travelodge Hotel in time to make
my pseudo appointment with Natalie, the ban-
quet manager. It was a short meeting.
As Marge predicted, Natalie was indeed