House clean, laundry done, I wrote up my impressions from the last few days. As a therapist, when I wrote down my thoughts about a session, it always helped. I hoped it would work with this murder.
Honey Thompson and the Hatheway family were the funding mechanism behind the theater and at least financially supported Thompson’s hobby. The murmurs at the funeral suggested support and respect of the Hatheway family within the greater community.
A quick google search revealed the Hatheway family as one of the first families to settle in Altavista with at least one school named after one of the family. Jackson T. Hatheway, the reigning patriarch was a lawyer, specializing in finance. His brothers were the presidents of the banks in Altavista.
Will Thompson, on the other hand, had few supporters and he’d angered a lot of people. The possible suspects included all the actors and members of the board. Was there a love interest like Max suggested? The obvious possibilities were Dr. Patrissi and Adelaide Mercer.
The photo on the College website for Dr. Patrissi was a flattering, younger version of the woman we’d met. A more pedantic and academic listing of credits than on Thompson’s or Isaac’s websites provided basic information on her degrees and creative endeavors. Not surprising given the College dictated the format down to the font used. The result was a very narrow and two-dimensional sense of Dr. Patrissi. Her outbursts with Kim and me colored that picture a bit.
Based on the date her degree was conferred, she was my age or older. I wondered if Will’s draw was that he was younger, the perceived power of his position in the theater company, or a combination. What was surprising was she listed William Thompson as a reference.
My next search was Facebook. She had a page, but other than her cover photo, she limited access. Not a total waste, the cover photo depicted Will and her on a stage in an embrace. Although it wasn’t the photo from his blog, they were dressed the same. He was dressed in his usual odd color combinations and she in jeans. I wondered if it was the stage in Altavista. Neither reminded me of West Side Story or Oklahoma!. I tried to find her on Tumblr and a few other social media venues without success. Dead end.
So far, everything I’d heard about Adelaide Mercer suggested she was an older woman, intelligent, capable, and caring, perhaps motherly. Her website was full of pictures in the various parts she had played. She either knew a lot about web design or had it done professionally.
There were interactive components and when I clicked on a picture, she provided a line or two from that play, in character. Much more visual in presenting her acting credits, it was obvious she was beautiful and, by appearance, younger than I expected. Nothing personal and no indication of her education or training.
From her pictures, including some from Oklahoma! the previous year, I guessed her to be about the same age as Thompson. Of course, she was fully made up for the characters she played. I thought back to the funeral and didn’t remember seeing her. A woman this attractive with ash blonde hair and curves in all the right places would have stood out, even if she were older than in these pictures and adorned in black.
As I scrolled through the site, I corrected my estimate of her age by at least 10 years. Adelaide was older than I am. If Thompson had romantic links to both Dr. Patrissi and Adelaide, he definitely went for older women. I wondered again if the age difference was part of the draw – part of how they were able to ignore his personality.
There were a few pictures of Adelaide with Thompson very close together, hands touching. Planned for the photo, an accident, or a demonstration of intimacy? Her eyes were on him in the photos, head tilted and smiling. His expression was not so warm and in some cases, his eyes were not on Adelaide. I wondered if Thompson’s wife ever saw these photos. Or Dr. Patrissi.
I continued my search of all the names Kim had listed – members of the Board mostly, but some were also actors - and made copious notes along with questions. The rest of them didn’t have extensive websites. I found professional resumes related to their paid jobs with only a few if any photos to help me. Combined with my previous impressions, I generated more questions. Hopefully we could get answers to some of these from the interviews. More information from Marty would help as well.
Headache and strained eyes indicated time for a break. I took Charlie for a walk in the sunshine and tried to ignore the chill. Back home, I’d curled up with my book and cup of hot cocoa when Kim called. She’d convinced Marty to come for dinner and at least find out what Brett had on his mind. I could hear him in the background but I wasn’t able to make out what he was saying. She ended the call abruptly. I needed to stock up on the wine – maybe even something stronger – for Sunday night.
The next time Brett called, I confirmed our Thanksgiving plans. He said he’d take care of the hotel reservations. We decided we’d drive up on Wednesday and drive back on Friday. Neither of us was into black Friday craziness. He’d shared our plans with Madison and assured her we’d Skype Thanksgiving morning. Before we hung up, I confirmed our dinner on Sunday.
CHAPTER 13
The day started off with sunshine and nervous anticipation. I stopped at the grocery store, grabbed some steaks and other things for dinner. Dessert, hopefully something chocolate, would be the prize. Charlie and I went for a walk and I was fixing the salad when Brett pulled into the drive.
After a tender kiss, he smiled and said, “Glad to see you.”
I smiled back and enjoyed the embrace for a few minutes before I pointed out the steaks needed attention. He pouted but went outside with Charlie and got the steaks and grill ready.
Brett no sooner went out back and Kim and Marty pulled in. Marty looked better than the last time I’d seen him, but still tense. Dressed casually, his stance was rigid and his jaw set. He gave me a sideways hug without saying anything. I stuck my head out the door to let Brett know they’d arrived. We sat around the table and munched on cheese and crackers with a bottle of wine while we waited on the steaks. At least this time, they didn’t go flying.
Marty nodded to Brett as he brought in the steaks. Kim and I got everything on the table, Kim’s eyes darting from Marty to me. She tried to make small talk, a little too loud and overdone. My efforts weren’t any more successful. The food was good, steaks and potatoes cooked to perfection, and the tension was thick and electric.
As Brett and I cleared the table, Kim served the chocolate pecan pie she’d brought. Along with dessert, I added paper from my home office and pens, as well as my notes. Marty and I spoke almost at once.
“So, who called this meeting anyway?”
“Which side are you on Brett?”
Marty’s tone was defensive and his expression hostile. I wondered if this was a good idea. We all looked to Brett and waited for his response. He took a deep breath and his jaw tensed. I put my hand on his to offer support.
“To answer Sheridan’s question, I called this meeting.” His gaze jumped from Marty to me and back to Marty.
“I’m not on any side, Marty. My job is just that – my job. I’d like to think we are friends. Sher’s shared what she and Kim have been doing to try to help Isaac. It seems like there may be more questions and possibilities to be considered.”
Brett’s voice dropped along with his gaze and I squeezed his hand. Marty sighed but without comment. Kim was the first to jump in.
“Four heads are better. We’ve got to be missing something and talking it all out can’t hurt Isaac, it can only help, right?”
She left unsaid he was already in jail and his trial was coming up. Nobody else was looking for an alternative. In effect, the worst we could do was solidify his guilt.
I nodded and looked to Brett. “Means, motive, and opportunity?”
Marty shook his head. “It’s all circumstantial. Isaac didn’t do this.”
“Who else had means? The gun was kept in Thompson’s office and he didn’t make a secret of it. He showed it to Isaac, right? Did anyone else know the gun was there?”
“His wife
told us where he kept the gun, so she knew. One other person remembered Thompson showing the gun to Isaac.” Brett pulled out a little notebook and flipped through pages. “Wendell Fleisch. I don’t know if anyone else was asked or volunteered information on the gun. Have you talked to him?”
Before Marty or Kim answered, I pointed to the possible list for Monday’s interviews. “He’s on this list. I couldn’t find much about him on the web, but he’s on the Board and has been since the beginning. Fifty-ish, distinguished-looking, nice-looking family man. Not much else about him on the Internet.”
When Brett started to say something, I put up my hand. “You said his wife knew where he kept the gun? I didn’t think she’d ever been to the theater.”
“Maybe he told her where he kept it or she was there once when no one else was there?” Brett shrugged at this lame explanation.
“Where did he keep the bullets?”
Brett snorted. “Both Isaac and Fleisch said the gun was loaded. Isaac apparently lit into Thompson about keeping a loaded gun, which is why Fleisch remembered it.”
“So potentially, anyone in the theater who knew Thompson had a gun in his desk had the means, right?”
We all nodded and Marty sat a little straighter, his jaw relaxed.
“Okay, let’s move to motive. I have a hard time with a part in a community theater as a motive for murder.”
“It’s a classic. The prosecution will use examples of other cases where someone injured or killed the competition.”
“Isaac’s interest is in musicals and not so much in the acting part. He wants to be a director or producer, but feels the need to have legitimate experience across theater to be able to do the job. That’s been his biggest complaint about Thompson all along. Thompson has minor parts or worked the stage and has no clue about composition or acting or how to deal with people.”
We all stared at Marty – it was the most he had said since this whole mess started. He hung his head in his hands. Kim rubbed his back.
“Who else was denied a part and might have the same motive?” Brett asked.
Kim chuckled and we both said, “Patrissi,” in unison. We rehashed our meeting with her without drawing any conclusions.
“He also, at least in Dr. Patrissi’s mind, had a relationship with her that he ended. So what other motives should we consider? As much as I think Max is full of hot air most of the time, he suggested a love interest. Is there any indication this was a crime of passion?”
“Not from the crime scene. No indication of a struggle, nothing broken or missing. He had a single picture on his desk – of himself – and only pictures of plays on the wall. I guess something could be missing, but we asked his wife and a couple of others, including Isaac. They all said the same thing – nothing they noticed.”
“That only eliminates theft for sure. Maybe he wronged someone else – his wife, a mistress – and she met him there, calmly pulled the gun out of the drawer and killed him. Isn’t that the basic scenario for Isaac?”
Marty stiffened. Brett glanced his way before answering. “Yes, and that scenario would fit anyone who met him there that night.”
“Brett, how do they explain Thompson not fighting back or something? Did he let someone put a gun to his head and pull the trigger?”
“No. It looks like he was knocked out or at least dazed from a blow to the head and then the suicide staged.”
We all sat up, surprised at this revelation. “Did they establish what he was hit with? Any prints on whatever it was?”
“Not identified as far as I know. Some speculation it might have been the gun.” Interesting enough, but it didn’t help.
“I think Dr. Patrissi had a motive. She was not pleased he wouldn’t give her a part in this play and her denial of an affair – well, we hadn’t even considered it until she blurted it out.”
Brett chuckled at Kim’s hand motions and agreed. “Have you gotten a sense of what the story was with Ms. Mercer?”
Marty shook his head. “Only what we heard from the other Board members Kim and I interviewed. She was the force behind the community theater, passionate about its growth and success. As it grew and Thompson got involved, she pushed for incorporation. Then she stepped down and recommended Thompson.”
“That’s what we got from Dr. Gorganz as well. It didn’t sit well with him. Come to think of it, who becomes the director now? He avoided that question.”
Brett took one of the sheets of paper and penned “Questions” at the top. Then he wrote down “Who takes over in Thompson’s absence?”
That could be motive. Would it be Adelaide Mercer or Gorganz or someone else? So far, other than Dr. Patrissi everyone agreed Thompson squelched the life out of the theater.
“Add a question about the relationship between Mercer and Thompson, as well as Patrissi and Thompson. If Thompson was fooling around, did his wife know? That could be a motive as well.” I paused, then asked, “Brett, did you talk to her?”
Brett shook his head. “I didn’t talk to her myself but I observed. It’s mostly what I did with everyone.”
He looked at Marty before he continued. “She struck me as rather cold and rigid, although that could have been shock. Even when she shed tears she sat ramrod stiff. She registered surprise to some of the questions – mostly the ones about the theater – and acknowledged she was not involved in the theater part of Thompson’s life as if that was typical of a husband and wife.”
“Sounds like she could be a cold calculating killer, don’t you think?” Kim hesitated and looked at Marty. “Did you talk to her at all?”
Marty shook his head and his shoulders slumped like all the air had gone out of him. “I don’t think so… I honestly don’t remember.”
Silence was uncomfortable, so I brought up the last component. “Who had opportunity? You know, who had access to the theater that night and knew Thompson would be there?”
Marty raised his head and looked to Kim. “The people we talked to last week all said the same thing. Thompson was known to be there most nights until around 10, even when there was no rehearsal. No one said it, but the tone of their voice conveyed their belief he wasn’t always attending to theater business.”
“When I asked why he would be there, one man started to recant – said maybe it only seemed like he was there every night. Another smirked while explaining he and most others all left together so how would he know. If they have suspicions, they weren’t sharing them.”
“Some illegal activity? That could translate into motive.”
Brett added the question of Thompson’s late nights to the list. He squirmed before he stated, “Mrs. Thompson reported her husband was meeting Isaac that night. She called and talked to him while he waited. The call has been verified on both records. Lasted two minutes, about the time Isaac said he was there. She didn’t know of anyone else he was meeting or who was there at the time. She commented he coached actors or worked on the financial end of the theater after everyone else left most nights.”
“Wait! Has there been an audit of the finances? Is that something to consider?”
Marty shook his head. “Mendelson already checked that possibility. The theater doesn’t bring in enough money to cover expenses. Thompson’s wife and her family, the Hatheways, have an expense account Thompson can draw from to pay bills. No serious questions asked but closely monitored by Gracie Meem. Her involvement with the theater seems to begin and end with serving on the Board.
I felt my eyes get big to match Kim’s wide eyes and dropped jaw. That was one affluent family and weird arrangement. It did fit with what we’d learned already though. This was Thompson’s passion and they financed it. What did they get in return?
“So what we know is mostly everyone had a motive for murder, including Isaac. Thompson was not a likable man. Although his wife may be the grieving widow, she never went to the theater at all. I find that odd.”
“We were only able to meet with some of the people involved in the the
ater. Sher and I are going to meet with some others tomorrow. We can try to garner the answers to some of those questions and maybe meet with the rest another time.”
“Thompson was an urban planner with the city. I wonder if he got along any better with his colleagues there. Maybe we should check on them as well.”
“Probably a good idea. I don’t know who the District Attorney has on his witness list. I’m not privy to that information. At this point, my role is strictly to verify the chain of evidence if needed.”
For his part, Marty was to see if Isaac knew anything about Thompson’s other activities in the evenings at the theater. We also didn’t know where Isaac’s girlfriend fit in or what the story was with Al Jackson. Maybe Isaac would know who was behind the user names “alyourpal” or “irabacus” or “silverfaery” of the people who sounded off on Thompson’s blog. Marty agreed to check on Melodie and Brett said he’d see what the status was with Al. It was late by the time Kim and Marty left and I was beat.
“Looks like the rest of the week I’ll be in Appomattox.” The twinkle gone from his eyes and his downturned mouth conveyed his disappointment and fatigue.
“Well, then we’ll have to enjoy tonight.” I paused before I added, “You probably need to check on your house, do laundry, and stuff at home anyway, not to mention sleep.”
CHAPTER 14
Kim and I strategized on the early morning drive to Altavista, coffees in hand. I was as interested in seeing the Community Theater as I was curious about the people involved. We found Majestic Street without any problems. The building was not very pretentious, almost disappointing. It looked like an old warehouse. Someone had placed a façade around the front doors to give the place an uplift of sorts. It certainly didn’t portend murder or mystery.
The façade depicted the masks of comedy and tragedy on one side with costumes and musical notes on the other. Playbills were placed under the masks, including the old ones for West Side Story and Oklahoma! as well as the one for A Christmas Carol. Over the center, the sign read “Altavista Community Theater.”
Murder in the Theater (Cold Creek Book 4) Page 7