Read Online Death in the Fifth Position by Gore Vidal - Free Book Online
Authors: Gore Vidal
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discreetly than had been Gleason’s intention.” Mr. Washburn looked like a very satisfied shark at that moment … one who had been swimming about all day in the troubled waters of City Hall. “There’ll be two plain-clothes men backstage at every performance and, of course, no member of the company is allowed to leave New York …
and
they all must be available at a moment’s notice, leave messages where they can be found.”
“What’s our policy about the funeral tomorrow afternoon?” I asked, after I had first assured my employer that his wishes were, as always, my command.
Mr. Washburn frowned. “I suppose the principals had better attend. I’ll be there of course … you, too.”
“And the press?”
He gave me a lecture on the dignity of death, the privacyof sorrow; after which he agreed that the press should be fully represented at the last rites.
Then I asked if I should give Jane the full star treatment and he said we should first wait and see what the reviewers would have to say about her … needless to say they were all turning up again tonight. After that, he gave me some routine orders, ending with the announcement that Anna Eglanova would tour another year with the company, her thirty-second year as a star.
“When did you sign her?”
“This afternoon. She changed her mind about retiring, as I knew she would.” He was very smooth.
Neither of us made any mention of the murder. Mr. Washburn had taken the public line that it had all been an accident, that no one connected with his company could have done such a thing but that of course if the police wanted to investigate, well, that was their right. In private he also maintained this pose and for all I knew he really believed it. In any case, his main interest was the box office and that had never been so healthy since Nijinski danced a season with the company a long time ago. If someone had the bad taste to murder a fellow artist he would wash his hands of them.
3
I was almost sick to my stomach during that night’s performance … experiencing double stage fright for Jane: first, because it was her big chance, as they say in technicolor movies, and second, because of that cable.
Everyone in the audience was also keyed up. Theylooked like a group of wolves waiting for dinner. There was absolute silence all through the ballet … even when Louis, who is after all a big star, came on stage with that pearly smile which usually gets all the girls and gay boys.
Jane was better than I thought she would be. I don’t know why but you never regard your lover as being remarkably talented; you never seem to think her able to do anything at all unusual or brilliant unless, of course, she’s a big star or very well known when you first meet her, in which case, you soon discover that she’s not at all what she’s cracked up to be … but Jane floored me and, I am happy to say, the critics, too. She lost the music once or twice and there was a terrible moment when Louis fumbled a lift, when she sprang too soon and I thought they would land in a heap on the stage but both recovered like real professionals and by the time she began her ascent by cable I knew that she was in, really there at last.
I don’t need to tell you that I watched her rise in the air, slowly turning, with my heart thudding crazily and all my pulses fluttering. Even when the curtain fell I half expected to hear a crash from backstage. But it was all right and there she was, a moment later, standing on the stage with Louis, the
corps de ballet
behind them, as the audience roared its excitement, relief, disappointment … everything, every emotion swept over that stage like surf on a beach. She took seven curtain calls, by herself, and received all four of my bouquets as well as two others, from strangers.
I ran backstage and found her in Sutton’s dressing room (now hers) with most of the company congratulatingher, out of relief as well as admiration. I think
and
they all must be available at a moment’s notice, leave messages where they can be found.”
“What’s our policy about the funeral tomorrow afternoon?” I asked, after I had first assured my employer that his wishes were, as always, my command.
Mr. Washburn frowned. “I suppose the principals had better attend. I’ll be there of course … you, too.”
“And the press?”
He gave me a lecture on the dignity of death, the privacyof sorrow; after which he agreed that the press should be fully represented at the last rites.
Then I asked if I should give Jane the full star treatment and he said we should first wait and see what the reviewers would have to say about her … needless to say they were all turning up again tonight. After that, he gave me some routine orders, ending with the announcement that Anna Eglanova would tour another year with the company, her thirty-second year as a star.
“When did you sign her?”
“This afternoon. She changed her mind about retiring, as I knew she would.” He was very smooth.
Neither of us made any mention of the murder. Mr. Washburn had taken the public line that it had all been an accident, that no one connected with his company could have done such a thing but that of course if the police wanted to investigate, well, that was their right. In private he also maintained this pose and for all I knew he really believed it. In any case, his main interest was the box office and that had never been so healthy since Nijinski danced a season with the company a long time ago. If someone had the bad taste to murder a fellow artist he would wash his hands of them.
3
I was almost sick to my stomach during that night’s performance … experiencing double stage fright for Jane: first, because it was her big chance, as they say in technicolor movies, and second, because of that cable.
Everyone in the audience was also keyed up. Theylooked like a group of wolves waiting for dinner. There was absolute silence all through the ballet … even when Louis, who is after all a big star, came on stage with that pearly smile which usually gets all the girls and gay boys.
Jane was better than I thought she would be. I don’t know why but you never regard your lover as being remarkably talented; you never seem to think her able to do anything at all unusual or brilliant unless, of course, she’s a big star or very well known when you first meet her, in which case, you soon discover that she’s not at all what she’s cracked up to be … but Jane floored me and, I am happy to say, the critics, too. She lost the music once or twice and there was a terrible moment when Louis fumbled a lift, when she sprang too soon and I thought they would land in a heap on the stage but both recovered like real professionals and by the time she began her ascent by cable I knew that she was in, really there at last.
I don’t need to tell you that I watched her rise in the air, slowly turning, with my heart thudding crazily and all my pulses fluttering. Even when the curtain fell I half expected to hear a crash from backstage. But it was all right and there she was, a moment later, standing on the stage with Louis, the
corps de ballet
behind them, as the audience roared its excitement, relief, disappointment … everything, every emotion swept over that stage like surf on a beach. She took seven curtain calls, by herself, and received all four of my bouquets as well as two others, from strangers.
I ran backstage and found her in Sutton’s dressing room (now hers) with most of the company congratulatingher, out of relief as well as admiration. I think
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