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Campsie turned up, grinning just a little bit smugly. I guess she had a right to do so; from my initial impressions, she was already half-way to worming herself into the confidences of at least one person at the Stalactite Saloon. She threw herself into a chair and tossed her new bag - a vast squishy thing which appeared to be constructed from fish scales in aquamarine leather - onto the desk. I looked at her enquiringly. "Good disguise," I murmured, "I nearly didn't recognise you myself." "Thanks," she said, "It seemed to get the results we wanted. I had an interview with Rhynd Deuchny and got the job. I start tomorrow." "He's the guy in the colourful clothing I saw you with in the corridor earlier?" I asked. "That's him. Such a sweetie," Campsie enthused, "Totally dedicated to his job, to the appearance of the performers. It's his life; he really cares. Everybody loves him. Been doing the job for ever, too." I nodded. This Deuchny character certainly looked the type to be totally focussed on whatever artistic endeavour he had made his own. "So what was he arguing with Arditty Pickston about?" I asked. Campsie's face darkened. "Deuchny wanted to swap around some of the dancers' costumes, just to keep things fresh on stage and give him a change to refresh the current ones. Just business as usual, he said. Wouldn't even have cost much money. But Pickston wanted him to leave the costumes alone." "So what do you make of Pickston?" I asked. "Deuchny told me all about him," she answered promptly, "Really, it was difficult to get him to shut up! He's fairly new, and not at all popular. He seems to be intent on keeping everybody in their place and not making any changes. Not the kind of fresh artistic blood they had been hoping for, I think." "What happened to the previous stage manager?" I asked, frowning. "Hmm, well, that's interesting," Campsie said, "Nobody seems to know. He just failed to turn up one day. Most unusual; he was considered hardworking and conscientious, and was well thought of. Apparently a letter of resignation arrived a few days later." "We're going to need to find out more about Mister Arditty Pickston," I said carefully. "Yes, you're right," Campsie replied, sighing, "Which is why I'll be looking keen and fresh-faced in the Stalactite Saloon tomorrow."
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Part 43