CHAPTER THIRTY FIVE

THIRTY FIVE
You often will hear New York theater types –
meaning producers, managers, actors, and especially
playwrights -- bemoan the British presence on
Broadway. The complaint is seldom regarding the
quality of the presentations. More often, it is a general
lamentation that goes something like this: How are our
playwrights or directors or whoever supposed to develop if
we allow the Brits to dominate our stage? It’s a disgrace.
This never would have happened back in the golden era of
Broadway.
Well, I am here to tell you that as long as the
commercial theater has existed in this country, it was
dominated by British imports, and I am not talking
only about Shakespeare.

CHAPTER THIRTY FOUR

THIRTY FOUR
I did not want to confront Elaine about my
suspicions based on what Joe Eason told me. I was
confused and wished there was a back way out. I
thought of doing the vampire flit and exiting the joint
at a speed faster than the human eye could perceive.
Instead, I paid my check and walked toward
the front. I found myself taking in details – the shelf
of books and photos and other memorabilia that
extends around the dining room above the tables,
documenting the place’s history as glitterati central. I
actually wondered if I would ever come there again. I
gave Elaine a stiff little smile as I passed her.

CHAPTER THIRTY THREE

THIRTY THREE
“First, let me express my condolences on your
loss. I know it was a professional relationship but it
must have knocked you for a loop, what with your
show still being in rehearsals and all.”
“Thank you, Joe. I appreciate that. We’re all
starting to find our way past the tragedy.”
“Is your show still going to open?”
“Of course it’s going to open. Danny Limm
wouldn’t have had it any other way. We would
dishonor his memory if we didn’t open it.”

CHAPTER THIRTY TWO

THIRTY TWO
I dressed in black and went up to the roof
and sat staring at the haze of light over the city,
contemplating the news that so took me by surprise
earlier tonight at Elaine’s. I decided to forego feeding
in order to scribble these thoughts.
Patti met me at Elaine’s, and she looked
haggard and drawn. I made her order some soup and
demanded she sip some champagne to stimulate the
appetite before her bowl arrived. The bubbly seemed
to revive her but not for very long.

CHAPTER THIRTY ONE

THIRTY ONE
The stretch of Broadway that runs through
Times Square was once the entertainment capital of
the country. Now you would never know that it’s the
theater district. Everything is huge, garish advertising
for multinational criminal enterprises known as
corporations.

CHAPTER THIRTY

THIRTY
Everything is moving right along with Pretty
Lady. It is going to be an uplifting, laugh-filled evening
of musical entertainment. David staged a run through
for me tonight. There were a few hiccups but nothing
that makes me think the wheels are going to fall off
between now and opening night. Quite the contrary.
The music is tight, the singers are on key, and
everyone has a solid handle on their lines and cues.
The dance numbers will tighten up as soon as the
chorus gets in front of an audience. The curtain call
was awkward but I called David over and gave him a
few notes as well as my congratulations on a job well
done.

CHAPTER TWENTY NINE

TWENTY NINE
I took the weekend off to hunt in Alabama
and while I did not feed on Friday, I did locate my
prey that night. I let the anticipation build through
the daylight hours Saturday while resting in a huge
hollow log in a swamp not far from my prospective
victims’ home. A little hunger sometimes goes a long
way in providing a distraction. I allowed myself to
forget about Danny’s demise, the investigation, and
my precarious multimillion dollar investment in
Pretty Lady.