Death and the Chaste Apprentice Read Online Free Page A

table, the theater’s most glamorous couple had been stimulated by the company—though Des Capper was not in himself stimulating—to stage a public version of their afternoon row. It was a cleaned-up version, much more elegant, suggesting that they carried the idea of rehearsals and trial runs into other areas of their lives.
    â€œWe’ve never had any secrets from each other, nor from anybody else,” Clarissa was proclaiming. “We take our pleasures when and where the fancy takes us. Of course it is a tiny bit unfair on Carston that all the people of real weight in the theater are men. Hardly any female producers, and the only kind of heterosex most of them are interested in is rape, and they’re against it. And though Carston is not averse to men, as a variation, even he would hardly find the average impresario or producer attractive. Which leaves the balance of advantage very definitely on my side.”
    â€œAnd puts me very much in my place,” said Jason Thark with a wide, untrustworthy smile. He was, in fact, a not unattractive man—broad shouldered, commanding. But he was—and he let you know it—a man to keep on the right side of.
    â€œDarling, I’m honest with you, as with everyone else. You’re really rather attractive, and I’d have slept with you even if you hadn’t been our producer. On the other hand, that does add a sort of spice . . .”
    Des Capper, watching them, had assumed an exquisitely misjudged air of being a man of the world.
    â€œI’ve known plenty of couples in my time who had what they call nowadays an open marriage,” he put in, bending forward confidentially. “It’s nothing new, oh, my word, no! I was in India just after the war, and what I could tell you about the Mountbattens’ goings-on would make your hair curl!”
    Clarissa regarded him with the sort of look she might use to wither a bit player who had interrupted her big speech five lines too early.
    â€œWhich is why Carston, poor darling,” she swooped on, “does very much prefer that we get work as a couple .”
    â€œThough that’s not so easy these days,” Carston confided genially. “Playwrights aren’t writing bitch parts for women as they used to.”
    â€œAnd why he himself has to make do for his sexual adventures with”—Clarissa’s smile widened triumphantly as they were joined at their table by an inconspicuous young woman—“ awfully promising young stage managerslike Susan here. Susan, dear, we were just saying what a won derful job you’re doing.”
    In the face of a smile which resembled that on the face of the tiger that had just swallowed the young lady of Riga, Susan Fanshaw sat down and said nothing. She was getting good at doing that with the Galloways. She had bought her own drink—for Carston Galloway was not a generous lover—and she had noted Clarissa eyeing her as she stood at the bar. Knowing Clarissa, she had realized she would be a target as soon as she joined them. She sat down with a mixture of unease and defiance. Jason Thark was more used to the Galloways and their social style, and he sat there, slumped, gazing about him with an easy tolerance. Des Capper, on the other hand, was beginning to feel ignored and made motions of moving on.
    â€œWell, it’s been nice having a chinwag,” he said with a little wave of his pudgy hand. “Better get along to have a chat with some of the others in my little flock.”
    â€œDarlings, I had no idea he was a cler gyman!” floated Clarissa’s voice after him, exquisitely modulated so that he could not avoid just hearing. “I would have tried to be polite to him if I’d known.”
    Des Capper, lips tightening, settled himself down at the next table. Nobody made any move to admit him, but somehow he managed to get himself in all the same.
    â€œAll settled in nice and