Murder at the Opera - Margaret Truman [65]
There was much laughter.
“There have been a few Toscas, usually the heavier ones, who have refused to make the leap and simply toddle off the stage, much to the directors’ chagrin
“Ever had that happen to you?” Mac asked.
“No,” Zambrano said, “but if it did, I would personally and with pleasure fling that Tosca to her death
Zambrano’s anecdote prompted others, including one that took place at a regional opera house outside Rome. An aging tenor, not up to the role he’d wangled for himself, elicited boos and shouts of displeasure and whistles from the Italian audience. In the third act, while singing “Di quella pira,” his voice cracked on a high note. The audience went into a frenzy, standing on their seats and hurling curses at him along with accusations of him being a beast, a criminal, and a murderer. The tenor became so enraged, he stomped downstage, sword in hand, and yelled, “All right, you morons, you come up here and sing the high note.” The curtain was drawn and the rest of the final act was never performed.
Zambrano indicated he was aware of that episode, thanked them all for being there, clapped his hands, and snapped, “Places, everyone!”
An hour later, Zambrano called an end to the supers’ walk-through and reminded everyone of the upcoming rehearsal schedule. He’d become agitated when he realized that two supers had failed to show, the pianist Christopher Warren and former detective Raymond Pawkins. His assistant called Genevieve Crier, who said that Warren was ill and that Pawkins had another commitment, which he couldn’t change, but he would try to be there before rehearsal ended.
Mac was about to leave when Genevieve came bursting through the doors. She was always bursting through doors, never simply walking through them, and Mac wondered if she sometimes went through walls. Her energy reservoir seemed perpetually topped off with high-octane fuel.
“Ah, Mac,” she said. “How did rehearsal go?”
“Fine. I learned all about the opera from the director. Fascinating stories behind Tosca.”
“That’s why it’s always being staged somewhere. Where’s Annabel?”
Mac looked up at a clock. “Waiting for me at a restaurant and wondering why I’m late. Join us?”
“I don’t know if I can.” She, too, looked at the clock. “Where are you meeting?”
“Cafe Milano
“You devils,” she said. “How can I pass up that invitation? I need ten minutes to soothe Anthony at two of my supers not showing and I’ll be on my way. Do you have a reservation?”
“Annabel does—she made it. She has clout there now that she’s on the Opera board. I understand the owner is on the board, too
“Franco. A charming man. Maestro Domingo has his own private room there. Ah, to be rich and famous. Go, go, don’t keep your Titian-haired beauty waiting. I’ll be there in a flash
Mac had no sooner left the building and was heading for his car when Ray Pawkins called out, “Hey, Mac. Rehearsal over?”
“Yes. You were missed
“Couldn’t be helped. I was tied up and couldn’t get away. Zambrano’s angry, I’m sure
“I suppose so. Look, Ray, I’m running late myself. Annabel’s waiting for me at Milano
“I’m impressed
Genevieve joined them. “Anthony wouldn’t talk to me, which is just as well. I’m not in the mood to be verbally assaulted. Good evening, Mr. Pawkins. I hope your newfound fame from Washingtonian hasn’t gone to your head
Pawkins laughed. “Of course it has,” he said. “My days as a super are over. It’s strictly leads now
“You’re still here,” she said to Smith. “Annabel is probably on her cell phone to a divorce attorney as we speak
“She doesn’t have to be,” Mac said. “She was a matrimonial lawyer, remember? Coming?