by KT Webb
“I’m Detective Pahl, can you tell me your name?”
“Patrick Butler.”
“And what is your role with this production?” Detective Pahl asked as he wrote his name on the pad of paper.
“I’m the director,” Patrick replied.
“When was the last time you saw Karen Moreau?”
“It was the day before dress rehearsals began. I guess it would have been the 26th of February.”
“So about two weeks ago?” He asked for clarification.
Patrick nodded, “That’s about right. We do two weeks of dress rehearsals before opening night. Last night was opening night.”
“I’m sure you were pretty upset when she didn’t show up, weren’t you?” The Detective looked over the top of his glasses.
“I wasn’t happy to put it lightly, but I’ve worked with Karen before. I knew she could be unreliable. We’d planned ahead and had Aria Durant learn her role as the understudy,” Patrick explained.
Detective Pahl made a few notes before looking back at Patrick, “You say you’ve worked with Ms. Moreau before, did you ever have any issues with her in the past?”
“She was notorious for being a bit of a diva. I had some firsthand experience with that behavior, but I was willing to give her another chance,” Patrick explained, “I honestly figured she got upset about something and took off. When my guys found her dog half-starved in her apartment, we had to get the police involved. She loved that little gremlin, there was no way she’d have left him without food or water.”
“Just a few more questions. You discovered the body?”
“Not initially. I was downstairs with the stage manager, Christine, looking for a replacement prop. The first thing that hit us was the smell. I figured we’d find a dead rat or something. When Christine screamed, I thought she’d been hurt somehow. It was a terrible scream. She threw up next to the body before passing out. I called 911 after that,” Patrick did his best to tell the Detective everything.
“You don’t seem overly upset for someone who just found a dead body,” Detective Pahl observed.
Patrick shook his head, “I can’t get the images out of my head. Every time I close my eyes, I can see hers; they were bloodshot. . .no, it was more like the blood vessels had all ruptured. Does that happen after death? Anyway, they were bulging right out of her skull.”
Detective Pahl didn’t think Patrick had anything to do with the death of Karen Moreau, but he had to cover all his bases. Someone like Patrick Butler worked with a lot of characters. Even the slightest feeling could be enough to crack a case wide open.
“Okay, Mr. Butler, you’re free to go. Just make sure you don’t leave town, for the time being, we may have more questions.”
“You bet, thank you, Detective.”
“If you think of anything else, be sure to give me a call,” he handed Patrick his business card.
“Absolutely, thanks again.”
Christine didn’t relish the idea of being asked any questions about the body. Her stomach was still reeling from the sight and scent of such a horrific death. Detective Pahl promised he wouldn’t keep her long, but he had to interview the person who first found the body.
“Before we go into what happened here today, can I have your name?”
“Christine Miller.”
“How well did you know the deceased?”
“I only knew her within the theater business. We weren’t friends,” she didn’t think it would be appropriate to tell him she couldn’t stand the woman, considering the circumstances.
“When did you last see Karen Moreau?”
“I’m not sure; it would have been the day before dress rehearsals were supposed to start. Late February.”
“When did you first notice that she was missing?”
Christine tried to sort through the jumbled mess of thoughts in her mind to track down the situation she’d encountered over two weeks prior. So much had happened in the time between that day and the current moment that it was impossible for her to sift through it properly.
“I’m sorry, I honestly don’t remember right off hand. I know we were supposed to be doing fittings for costumes, and Karen didn’t show up, but I’m not sure what exactly made me think she was missing,” Christine told him simply.
“Sure, that’s understandable. You have a pretty hectic job, don’t you?”
“It depends on the day, but yes, leading up to a production like this one, things get pretty intense.”
“Did you get along with Karen Moreau?”
“We had a professional relationship. Like I told you, we weren’t friends. We had some disagreements during past productions, but she seemed to be doing pretty well with this one.”
“What do you mean by disagreements?”
Christine sighed, “Karen is. . .I mean was a pretty demanding person. She didn’t like to be told ‘no’ and didn’t particularly want to take direction from someone like me.”
Detective Pahl made a few notes. It was driving Christine crazy to sit and talk about whether or not she liked the woman often referred to as the Bitch of Broadway. Karen was dead. The longer she sat in that room with the Detective, the less time they were out looking for whoever killed the poor woman.
“What do you mean when you say ‘someone like’ you?”
“I may have been the stage manager for several productions, but to someone in Karen’s position, I’m nobody. She didn’t want to listen to someone she viewed as beneath her.”
“Interesting. You’re not the first person who’s painted a picture of Miss Moreau that’s less than appealing. I guess all those tabloids had something right,” Detective Pahl chuckled to himself.
“I don’t think this is the time for us to be discussing her likability. Regardless of her personality, she didn’t deserve to be murdered!” Christine nearly shouted.
Detective Pahl looked as though she’d slapped him across the face. He shook his head and held up his hands with palms out, “Oh, no miss. I’m sorry. I certainly didn’t intend to make light of the situation. I guarantee we will put every effort into finding out what happened to Miss Moreau.”
Christine nodded, “Thank you. Are we almost done? I don’t feel very well. I’d like to go home and lie down.”
“Yes, just a few more questions, and we’ll be finished,” he flipped through the pages of his notebook as though looking for something to prompt his next question. “When you found the body, did you touch anything?”
Christine thought her eyes would pop out of her head. She instantly regretted making that particular metaphor; swollen, staring eyes would haunt her nightmares. She cleared her throat to push down the bile burning up from her stomach.
“No, sir.”
“I’m aware that you vomited next to the body, do you happen to know if any of that came into contact with the body itself?”
Christine shuddered as her stomach turned again, “I have no idea.”
“I understand this is difficult to talk about, I mainly need to know if we may find any DNA evidence on the body as a result of your discovery and subsequent reaction,” he explained.
“I understand. I’m sorry, I passed out after I threw up. It’s all kind of a blur.”
“That’s alright. Thank you for your assistance. Make sure you stick around town in case we need to speak with you again. You’re free to go home and get some rest.”
“Thank you,” Christine accepted his card as he instructed her to call if she thought of anything she felt may help their investigation.
“My name is Detective Pahl. I’m here to ask you some questions about Karen Moreau.”
Aria nodded, “Of course, anything you need.”
“Can I have your name?”
“Aria Durant.”
Detective Pahl looked at her with narrowed eyes, “So you’re the girl all the papers are buzzing about. You and that Overland fella are a bit of an item, aren’t you?”
Aria shook her head, “No. We’r
e good friends. We thought about becoming more, but it just wasn’t in the cards.”
Detective Pahl scribbled on his notepad, then flipped through the pages as though reviewing what others had told him.
“It’s my understanding that with Miss Moreau out of the way, you were given the lead role in this production.”
“I was her understudy, yes. I was cast as the role of her character’s best friend; Patrick made it clear that I was to be prepared to take the lead should things not work out with Karen,” she explained.
“Why do you think he thought things wouldn’t work out?”
“I can only guess or tell you what others involved with the play have told me,” Aria began, “I didn’t know Karen outside of this production. She wasn’t very friendly to me; I believe that’s because she saw me as a threat to her role. I was happy to take part in any way I could, but my director told me to prepare, so I did.”
“That doesn’t really answer my question, Miss Durant.”
“No, I don’t suppose it does. I guess my understanding was that Karen had a reputation for storming out and leaving everyone in a lurch. She’d even done so in the middle of a scene during a performance. I think Patrick felt that having an understudy would save him, and possibly deter her from doing such a thing again,” Aria explained.
“That makes sense. You’re a bright young woman, Miss Durant. Did you think anything seemed ‘off’ about Miss Moreau’s behavior leading up to her disappearance?”
Aria thought back to their practices and limited interactions behind the scenes. Nothing, in particular, jumped out at her as being out of the ordinary.
“I don’t think so. Karen didn’t like that Drew and I practiced together after the regular practices were over. He was helping me learn her role as the understudy.”
“Sure. Do you think Miss Moreau was interested in Mr. Overland?”
Aria blinked at him, “I would be stunned if she was.”
“Why is that?”
“For one thing, they practically despised one another. For another, Karen was a lesbian.”
Detective Pahl raised his eyebrows, “Oh? And how do you know that if you weren’t very close to the deceased?”
“It wasn’t exactly a secret. I thought everyone knew. It’s not a huge deal, so we didn’t order a skywriter.”
Aria silently cursed herself for her cheek. The last thing she needed to do was upset the lead detective working a murder investigation that she could easily be implicated in. From the outside looking in, Aria was the perfect suspect. She stood to gain the most from killing Karen Moreau.
“I appreciate your sense of humor, Miss Durant, but I was merely wondering if she had told you or if you’d seen her with a girlfriend. If there’s a girlfriend out there, we should be questioning her for further information about Karen’s state of mind. She may know if the victim was afraid of anyone,” Detective Pahl was staring at her with an uncomfortable intensity.
“Oh, sorry. I’m a little on edge. I don’t know if Karen was seeing anyone. She wasn’t forthcoming with any personal information.”
“Sure. How well do you know your co-star, Andrew Overland?”
“As I said, we’ve become good friends. I don’t know him as well as people seem to think I do. We’ve hung out a few times, he was my date to a couple of parties. That’s the extent of it. Other than my vague memories of him when I was a young child.”
“Of course, are you aware that he was a person of interest in a similar situation over in London?” Detective Pahl asked.
She wasn’t sure what he was referring to. The rumors she’d heard were all related to his sexual indiscretions. She also recalled an indication that someone had been injured on stage during a rehearsal; Aria hadn’t heard anything about someone ending up dead.
“I’m not sure what you mean, Detective.”
“Before he was cast as Jean Valjean in Les Miserables, another actor was given the role. Just days before they were due to begin rehearsals, the other actor turned up dead in the pond behind his home. He was an excellent swimmer and had no signs of a head injury that may have caused him to lose consciousness during a swim,” the Detective paused to look directly at Aria. “The evidence was all circumstantial, so no charges were brought. Andrew Overland was given the part that launched his career.”
Aria thought back to all the times people warned her about Drew. She stayed off the internet as much as humanly possible and didn’t take much stock in things she read online unless they were reputable news sources. Maybe she could have run a simple online search to learn more about the man she almost dated. Her head was spinning from the information.
“I’m sorry, that’s some interesting information, but I fail to see what that has to do with Miss Moreau. Are you saying you suspect that he murdered her? For what purpose? He already had the lead role.”
“Do me a favor and think about what he stood to gain by not acting opposite Miss Moreau in this production,” Detective Pahl handed her a business card. “If you happen to think of anything, a feeling or a passing comment, anything that you think may help the investigation, don’t hesitate to call me.”
Aria nodded and promised she would do that. As she left the small room they’d been using for interviews, she passed Drew in the hallway. Could he have had something to do with Karen’s death? Aria had no idea.
Drew sat down with the Detective and waited for him to start asking questions. He’d learned long ago that volunteering information was the dumbest thing he could do in situations like this. There was no reason to give them something to go on if they didn’t have any leads. He maintained his composure as the Detective silently read through his notes. It was a waiting game.
When his parents died, the police questioned him. He was the only member of the family that hadn’t been present at the Durant house; naturally, they were interested in why he hadn’t been there. His iron-clad alibi had been impossible for them to argue with. How could he have had anything to do with their deaths if he was in the middle of Act II on-stage?
“I’m Detective Pahl. You’re Andrew Overland, correct?”
“Yes.”
“As you know, the body of Karen Moreau was found today. Can you tell me when you last saw her?”
“I can’t recall.”
Detective Pahl leveled his gaze on Drew, “Interesting. Every other person could tell me the exact date they last saw Miss Moreau.”
“I don’t pay much attention to things like that. I guess it’s been a few weeks.”
“Okay. How would you describe your relationship with Karen?”
“We weren’t in a relationship,” Drew replied.
Detective Pahl had dealt with plenty of uncooperative witnesses, but Andrew Overland really took the cake. He tried his patience. He couldn’t necessarily say the man wasn’t cooperating, but he wasn’t very forthcoming with information everyone else had offered without resistance. Detective Pahl would have to word his questions carefully.
“How would you describe your interactions with the deceased?”
“Limited.”
“Would you describe your interactions as amiable?”
“No.”
“Listen, Mr. Overland, I’m not the enemy here. I’m just trying to determine what happened to this poor woman. We would be done a lot sooner if you’d cooperate,” Detective Pahl continued to stare at Andrew.
“I wasn’t fond of Karen Moreau. I kept our conversations strictly business. We weren’t friendly because we weren’t friends,” Drew explained, “I didn’t appreciate her attitude. She was rude and treated everyone like second-class citizens.”
“Alright, did you ever have any arguments while working together?”
“Yes.”
“What did you argue about?”
“Her attitude.”
Detective Pahl had to remind himself not to let Drew see how irritated he was by the flippant answers he gave. The man probably thought it was less incriminating to limit his res
ponses; for Detective Pahl, it only made him want to dig deeper. If he was going to get anywhere with him, he was going to have to poke at something more sensitive.
“What can you tell me about Aria Durant?”
“What do you want to know about her?”