He rolled his eyes and nodded.
“You could call it that. He stonewalled big time. I’m not a theater person, but I’d bet his responses were lines from some play. He delivered them as if on stage. Useless.”
He took another deep breath before he continued, “So, Sheridan, don’t you think you – and Kim, of course – should be talking to all these folks in Fine Arts, helping them deal with this? After all, some of the faculty and students over there might be involved in the community theater, maybe even interacted with Thompson, or have information about him,” Brett suggested. “And it’s one of their students arrested for the murder.”
There really wasn’t much of an argument though I wondered if he’d had this in mind all along. He had a point and I have an excess of curiosity. I also wanted to help clear Isaac and the best way to do that was to get as much information as possible, hopefully to identify the real killer.
“I’ll see what we can do,” I said as I tried hard not to smile. “We can certainly focus our energy over there.”
He nodded. We discussed how this would work several times, with Brett throwing out as many possibilities and consequences as he could muster. I called Kim and told her the plan. She relayed the message to Marty.
Everyone in agreement, Kim agreed to set up appointments with faculty and students for the next afternoon. I specifically mentioned Dr. Gorganz and how he reacted to Brett. I also pointed out he not only was on the Fine Arts faculty but with the theater as well.
Brett listened and when I hung up I filled him in.
“He’s involved in the theater – on the Board? Funny he didn’t think to mention that today.”
“Hopefully, we’ll meet with him tomorrow and he will respond a little better to Kim and me. We are cuter you know!”
Off the phone with a plan in place, Brett put his arms around me and kissed me. We snuggled for a while, including Charlie who wanted attention as well. The issue of the holidays and the murder investigation were pushed aside for a short time once again.
CHAPTER 7
It was going to be a busy day between teaching and then interviewing faculty and students over in Fine Arts. I reflected on this as I went through the usual chore of stacking the papers, then got my coffee at Georg’s, and taught my class.
One and a half hours later, class was over and Mitch stood at my door, face red and eyes wide. In the five years I’d known Mitch, he’d rarely gotten angry with anybody or anything. Once in my office, he exploded.
“Can I kill Joe Janis? And any other reporter who gets in my face?”
I signaled with my hand for him to lower his voice. He was so loud, I was sure people could hear him even with the door closed. Terra might easily walk down the hall and hear his rant about her husband. Joe obviously was covering the story for the paper.
“What did he do?”
“He showed up at the Student Counseling Center and started asking the student worker, Lexi, about Isaac Waxman. He asked each person going in or out of the Counseling Center why they were there and if they knew Isaac. No respect for confidentiality or anything. I got there as soon as I could and closed the Center. I posted information on where to find assistance in the area.”
“Did you talk to Joe? Explain how inappropriate his questions were?”
“I tried. He gave me some lame excuse. He argued it was routine to check out the mental status of someone who committed a murder and he wanted to be the first with the story. After I clarified Isaac had not been found guilty of anything, I told him if he didn’t leave I’d call the police.”
I looked at him, the question on the tip of my tongue. I took a deep breath and swallowed the question.
“Did you explain confidentiality?”
His face got even redder and his eyes bigger.
“I did. He proceeded to harass Lexi. Told her she didn’t have to keep anything confidential and neither did the counselors because they weren’t licensed. I begged to differ with him and told him without a court order, no information would be given out about any student. The worst part was the students sitting there freaked out. At least they seemed to relax a bit after I told him off. I told everyone to leave, students, Lexi, and counselors.”
“I guess Joe left too?”
“He kept asking me questions and I ignored him or asked for the court order.”
“None issued yet?”
“No, and before you ask, I need you to needle your pal Brett or someone else to legally question if Isaac was ever seen at the Center so that avenue can be put to rest. Can you do that?”
I nodded and smiled, “Yes, I will text him to suggest that, though I suspect he won’t like the answer.”
What many people don’t realize is psychologists not only can’t share information about a client, they also can’t confirm or deny if someone is or ever was a client. If Mitch wanted the question to be officially asked and answered, my bet was Isaac was never seen there. For the investigation, it would be a dead end, but it would also allow the Student Counseling Center to get back to providing support for students.
Mitch vented some more before he left. I texted Brett and planted the seed. I felt restless and needed to move, so I went over to Terra’s desk. I also wanted to know if there were any ripples from Mitch and Joe’s hostile exchange.
“How are you doing today, Terra? Joe share any information?” I asked.
“No more than your detective shares with you,” Terra teased back. Obviously Joe hadn’t shared his version of the scene at the Student Counseling Center. I hoped it wouldn’t affect my relationship with Terra. From past experience, I knew Joe irritated people as part of his job and I tried to remember that was his job and not hold it against Terra.
“Anything else happening?” I asked in part to put off going back to my office to deal with email and grading.
“Quiet here. Dr. Grant is gone for the day again. He had some meeting with Deans and such. Even Max hasn’t been by to complain or ask for something we can’t pay for. I even feel better today.”
Terra shrugged as she answered and Ali nodded.
“Any plans for the holidays?”
“Not really. I mean we’ll have the usual potluck here in the Department. Ali and I will send out the email and post a signup sheet as soon as Dr. Grant picks the date. What will you bring?”
“I don’t know. Maybe a chocolate cheesecake, unless there’s too many desserts. Then I could do something with vegetables.” The turkey would be provided by the department and everyone would bring something.
“Ohhh. I definitely think the cheesecake.”
The conversation stalled and was my cue to get back to work. As much as I liked Terra and Ali, I didn’t want to share the conflicts over Thanksgiving plans.
On the way to my office, Kim’s door was closed. I left her a note and resumed grading papers in my office. The sound of heels clipping down the hall announced Kim’s arrival.
Today, she looked much better. She was average height and her high-heeled boots added three inches. Her column skirt and green cashmere sweater set off her red hair and green eyes, not to mention her shapely figure. Perhaps she hoped to dazzle the Fine Arts faculty. I hoped she had good news to go with her improved attitude.
“Saw your note. I just got back from meeting with Marty. The arraignment was this morning and no bail. Apparently, Isaac was arrested once before and that somehow made him a flight risk. I asked a lot of questions and got some information. I’m not sure Marty is tracking it all, Sher. The organized, systematic side of Marty is in a fog.” Kim shook her head, a frown on her face.
“Maybe we can help make sense of what he does know.”
“Okay. Motive and opportunity boil down to the part of Ebenezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol. Isaac auditioned and got the part, as well as the part of one of Marley’s ghosts. Two weeks ago, Isaac and Thompson got into another one of their arguments. This time Thompson told Isaac he had no talent and couldn’t do the play justice. He kicked
Isaac out of the theater. Then Thompson posted a notice for new auditions.”
I nodded. That explained why auditions were scheduled so close to the opening dates. I wondered about the understudy or if a part in a community theater production was important enough to be a motive for murder.
“What did they argue about?”
Kim slumped in the seat, her gaze downward.
“That’s the thing. Nobody knows or at least no one said. The police interviewed other members and actors. They all heard Thompson yelling at Isaac and saw Isaac storm out with a lot of drama. When pushed, at least some said he threatened Thompson.”
“Not good. Opportunity?”
“Mrs. Thompson told the police her husband was at the theater that night to meet with Isaac. Apparently nobody wanted to audition for the part of Scrooge. Isaac admits he was supposed to meet with Thompson. Only he says Thompson wasn’t there so he left. Isaac told Marty that Thompson had a habit of withholding information, of not telling anyone what was going on, as a means of control. Isaac figured Thompson was jerking him around. Unfortunately, Isaac’s been in every part of the theater so his fingerprints are everywhere. No way to know when he left them and no way to confirm Thompson wasn’t there when Isaac was there.”
“Maybe Thompson was there, already dead.”
“Possible. Timing is iffy. Mrs. Thompson has a call on her cell from her husband about the time that Isaac says he was there.”
“Anyone else have motive and opportunity?”
“All I found out from Marty was the basis of the arrest. Isaac is the most obvious person based on what Mrs. Thompson told the police. And Sher, he also had the means. Thompson was shot in the head with a small caliber gun. Thompson had a concealed carry permit and kept a gun at the theater. He was shot with his own gun. Although the gun was by Thompson’s hand, only one thumbprint was on the gun and it was Isaac’s. And Thompson wasn’t wearing gloves. All the rest of the prints had been wiped clean. Isaac explained Thompson showed him the gun once and that must be when his print got on it.”
“I gather the police don’t believe that story.”
“Nope. Police argue he killed Thompson and missed the thumbprint when he wiped off the gun.”
“No chance he committed suicide and somebody wiped off the gun so insurance would pay off?”
Kim shook her head. “They checked for powder residue. Thompson didn’t shoot the gun. By the time they brought in Isaac, it was the next day and the police said the powder residue test was negative for him as well, which is not exactly conclusive.”
Definitely stacked against Isaac and also circumstantial. Maybe he was set up or he was a convenient scapegoat.
.
CHAPTER 8
We had a little time before going over to Fine Arts. I suggested we grab a quick lunch and more coffee at Georg’s. While we ate lunch, Kim filled me in on the interviews with some of the actors at the theater after the arraignment.
“At some point in my life, I thought I wanted to go into acting. I’m sure glad I didn’t,” she grunted.
“Where did that come from?”
“Mendelson suggested Marty talk with some of the actors. Marty wasn’t sure he could handle it so I went along. He made appointments with some of them for today and others next week. I came up with questions like you suggested.”
“What did you ask them?”
“We came up with some open-ended questions to ask everyone. How long with the theater, any relationship with Thompson outside of the theater, how they would describe him, who might have a motive – other than Isaac – to kill Thompson… Very basic, open-ended questions.”
I smiled at Kim and high fived her. “Great questions. Tell me what you found out and why you look so tired.”
“I’m exhausted because of Marty. We’ll start there. He is too close and too invested in this to be a casual listener. He probably has bruises on his legs from the number of times I had to kick him to keep him from interrupting or reacting to what someone said. He’s lucky I didn’t have on my pointy shoes.”
Kim’s eyes flashed as she spoke and her voice rose. I motioned with my hand for her to lower her voice. My experience with Marty and interviews was very different from what Kim described. Calm and collected was my recollection, with only minimal evidence of negative reactions to what the person said. But this was his nephew’s future at stake.
“You knew he was too emotionally involved going in. No surprise. If you interview anyone else, maybe it’s a good idea if he isn’t there. Did you find out anything helpful?” I leaned forward and moved my hand in circles to signal her to continue.
“One thing for sure, Thompson is not missed by many. No tears shed there. He was described as smiling to your face, nodding, while not hearing a thing anyone said and being critical as all get out. About as receptive as talking to a wall. Played head games with them, pitted them against one another, and didn’t give them information or direction until the last minute. Instead of focusing on the final product, like how a scene went in practice, he grilled them about the details of the story, told them that was the only way he knew they were really working on their parts.”
“Doesn’t sound like anyone I would work for as a volunteer.”
“Me neither. Obviously a sentiment shared by others. Since he took over as the Director, the number of people auditioning or even involved in any way has decreased. A lot of people auditioned for West Side Story. The last play was Oklahoma! and fewer people auditioned for that one even though it is very popular. Only a few of the people from any other production with Thompson were interested in this one. Maybe because it wasn’t a musical or holidays have them swamped. After listening to the few we talked with I doubt it. One person described Thompson’s attitude as driving people away. For this show, everyone had two parts with no understudies.”
“So why did the rest of them stay? Or others sign up for this play?”
She shrugged. “Best as I could tell, the draw for some was the social, community aspect – their own social circle of people who liked to act and liked whatever the play was. For others, their dreams of being on stage were fulfilled. This play was a draw as well. Who doesn’t know the story of A Christmas Carol and Scrooge? I have to tell you, Sher, more than one of the people we talked to characterized Thompson as Scrooge. Some even believed he kicked Isaac out so he could step into the part.”
“If he was Scrooge, who was his Marley?”
At Kim’s puzzled expression, I rephrased my question.
“Who was Thompson close to who might have tried to tell him of his need to change at some point?”
Kim shook her head. “No one we talked to had much positive to say about him. A few commented on Adelaide Mercer, the previous Director, and how much easier it was to work with her. They described her as nurturing and fair and they respected her. With regard to Thompson? Mostly, they vented their anger toward him.” The bitterness she described mirrored the venomous responses to the blog posts.
“Anyone mention positive relationships with the cast or members of the Board? What about his family?”
Kim let out an evil laugh and shook her head. “Based on what we heard, his wife never went to any of the plays or the rehearsals. She obviously didn’t share his love of the theater. No one mentioned anything specifically romantic, but one person – I have his name written down in my notes – questioned why Adelaide had ever recommended him for the job. He implied there was a relationship there without quite stating as much.”
“Hmmm. What about Isaac? If Marty was upset, is it safe to say nothing anyone said would exonerate Isaac?”
Kim exhaled, looked up to the ceiling, and back to me.
“Apparently Isaac was the only one who stood up to Thompson. Every rehearsal, every meeting. First in Oklahoma! and then with this one. Not always couched the same way. Some described it in terms of Isaac’s ability and understanding of the theater made Thompson look bad, while others focused on the animosity betwe
en the two men.”
She continued before I could respond.
“Sher, as they waited to meet with us in Thompson’s office, we could hear them. More than once we heard someone comment how great it was Isaac killed him. That’s what kept pushing Marty over the edge. They all seem to believe he did it.”
“Not good. Not just because it’s Isaac either. It means everything they recall will reinforce that belief. Every conversation they have among themselves will serve to convince them further that he’s guilty. And all of this could be fueled by the real killer.”
“My thoughts too. Part of me doesn’t even want to finish the interviews we scheduled for next week. The other part of me thinks it’s important to at least raise the question of who else might have killed him. Sher, will you come with me? I don’t think it’s good for Marty to be in these meetings.”
We talked some more and I agreed to go to Altavista and do the rest of the interviews with her. Kim went back to her office and I tried to get some work done before our meetings over in Fine Arts. I barely had my email open when Max came by.
“See, Sheridan, I was right. He was murdered! What do you have to say now?” he exclaimed, clearly pleased with himself.
“Morning, Max. Yes, he was murdered.” I paused and then added, “But Max, he wasn’t gay and that wasn’t the motive.”
“Well, you know, Sheridan, it always comes down to passion, like with Adam last fall or maybe money. You need to cherchez la femme since he’s not gay and it’s not likely to be money. I bet Thompson guy had a girlfriend and did her wrong! Or maybe he stole her away from the student they arrested, and in a fit of jealousy and rage, the student killed him.”
Max’s eyes flashed and he emphasized his words with his hands moving back and forth while he bounced on his feet.
“Could be… could be any number of things. Sooner or later the police department will figure it out, I’m sure,” I responded.
“I saw your friend Brett here the other day. I don’t want to talk to him, Sheridan. You need to make sure I’m protected from him.”
Murder in the Theater (Cold Creek Book 4) Page 4