by Cynthia Raye
Millie nodded, and they both left the office.
The acting class was still doing improv—though more advanced now. Ronni had asked them to choose a scene from a play. But instead of continuing with the scene as written, they were to improvise from a cut-off point on and take the scene in a different direction than what the playwright had written. However, considering the characters they would play and the background of the story, it had to be logical and fit the characters.
She had left it up to the class to choose which play to use and which scene. Each person would present the same cutting. Ronni had done this exercise herself, several times in association with productions she’d been in. The idea was for the actors to thoroughly understand their character’s thinking and behavior. This was to help them in their portrayal of the character when the play was presented to an audience.
A variation, which she also planned to try next, was to place the characters from a particular play in a scene outside the play itself. In other words, in a totally different situation. This was a sort of improv but different from anything they’d done yet.
The idea was to see if the actors could stay in character during the two-to three-minute scene. But for today the scene the class had chosen was from the upcoming production of The Glass Menagerie where the “Gentleman Caller” Jim comes to dinner.
As was to be expected Carlos absolutely nailed his portrayal of Jim, while Millie was the perfect Amanda, both staying totally in character. Ronni was amazed that Millie was able to do so, considering her situation.
In fact, everyone did a pretty good job of staying in character and building a scene.
“Millie,” Ronni said as they exited the room and headed toward Ronni’s office. “I’m amazed that after what happened this morning, you were able to do so well with the character. I think I’d have been pretty rattled.”
“Thanks.”
The police were already waiting outside the office.
“Good morning, detectives,” Ronni said.
Both mumbled a good morning.
“Shall we go in?” Ronni asked as she opened the door. She motioned for the others to proceed her.
“Please have a seat,” Ronni said.
The two detectives exchanged looks, and Kolonich finally nodded. “Okay. But it would be better if we faced the two of you.”
“No problem,” Ronni said as she grabbed the third chair in front of her desk and pulled it around next to her seat. Millie would sit there beside her.
“Now, we understand there’s some sort of problem with a note,” Solomon said as he squinted at Millie.
“There is.”
“Tell us about it,” Kolonich said.
Ronni noticed they weren’t speaking or acting so harshly as they had the last time in her office. Had they decided Millie might not be guilty? She hoped so but had her doubts. Maybe today they’d both gotten up on the right side of the bed.
“This morning ,when I opened my locker, there was a sheet of typing paper on the bottom. I think someone slid it under the door,” Millie told them.
“And I’m sure you didn’t consider it might have fingerprints?”
“At first, I thought maybe I’d dropped the paper when I closed my locker yesterday. That it was a homework assignment or something. So I picked it up.”
“Well, maybe there still are some fingerprints,” Solomon said. “Picking it up doesn’t necessarily mean wiping out or destroying all prints already on it.” He turned to Ronni. “I suppose you touched it too.” His tone was accusatory.
“Yes, when Millie handed it to me.”
“So your fingerprints and hers will both be on it.”
Ronni smiled, half amused and half sarcastic. “You got it.”
“Well, again, that may not matter. If there are other prints, the lab can probably find them,” Solomon said.
Kolonich pulled on a pair of latex gloves. “Is this the note?” he asked pointing to the sheet of paper in the middle of Ronni’s desk.
“That’s it,” Ronni answered.
Wearing the gloves, Kolonich picked up the paper and placed it inside a clear plastic envelope.
“We understand they also was a phone call?,” Solomon said.
Though the two men didn’t resemble each other physically, Ronni thought they came across more like twins in the way they behaved. What one said easily could have been uttered by the other—except for those time when Solomon, as he himself admitted, was being a jerk.
“Yes, there was a phone call,” Millie said. Ronni noticed that this time she wasn’t letting the two cops get to her; she wasn’t buckling under pressure as she had when they had arrested her. She was glad, proud of Millie’s fortitude.
“I don’t suppose you had a chance to record it.”
“No, I didn’t,” Millie said. “But I think Ms. Adams jotted it down word for word.”
Sampson seemed surprised. “You could do that?”
“When she heard a weird-sounding voice, Millie put the call on speaker. I grabbed a pen and started to write. It was a very short message… that went along with the note Millie found in her locker.”
“And what exactly did the person say?”
Ronni told them.
“You said the voice was weird,” Kolonich said. “What did you mean by that?”
“It sounded like a computer voice—no emphasis on words, no accent of any kind. And the voice was low and growly-sounding.”
“Too bad it didn’t go to voice mail.” Solomon shook his head. “I don’t know if it would have helped, but the forensic guys can determine a lot now by listening to a voice. Maybe even match it to one of the students.”
“Do you have any idea who’s threatening you?” Solomon asked.
“No,” Millie answered. “Almost everyone has been supportive. Treated me well. A few of the students think I killed Sylvia, but most don’t. So I have no idea.”
“Maybe it could be one or more of Sylvia’s followers,” Ronni said. “That sounds logical… if the threat is serious.”
“What makes you think it might not be?” Solomon asked.
“A sick joke. A prank,” Ronni answered, “by someone who thinks it’s funny.”
Kolonich nodded. “Very well could be. But until we find that out for certain, we have to treat this as a real threat.” He drew his lips together for a moment. “I’m going to see if we can have a bodyguard for you for the next few days,” he told Millie. “While you’re at school.”
“You think you really have to do that?” Millie asked.
“Why not?” Kolonich asked.
“I’m already the center of attention. I hate to have anything else make me more of a… I don’t know… the focus of all the teachers and the other kids.”
“It probably would be only for two or three days at most,” Kolonich told her. His voice sounded almost sympathetic, Ronni thought, a turnabout from the last time.
Millie sighed. “Okay. If you think you have to.”
Again Ronni thought of her mother’s caution about being safe rather than sorry.
“All right,” Solomon said, “we’ll try to arrange a bodyguard. And definitely we’re going to have to talk to more students. Determine who sent you the note and called.” He shook his head. “It’s like starting all over again.”
Chapter 29
After the two policemen left, there was still about half an hour left in the period.
“Ms. Adams!” someone called. Ronni turned to find it was Emma.
“Hey, Emma, how are you holding up?”
“I’m doing much better. Strangely, I miss Sylvia… despite the way she treated me. But what I wanted to talk to you about is something else.”
“Would you like to go to my office?” Ronni asked. She wondered what Emma wanted.
“No, this will only take a minute.” She frowned. “I heard that Millie received a threat this morning.”
“News does travel fast, doesn’t it?”
“I think
most of the kids know by now. Gossip, as they say, spreads like wildfire.”
“So what did you want to tell me?”
“I think I know who threatened Millie.”
“Who!”
“I have to get back to class. I’m on a restroom break and just happened to see you. I’ll talk to you at lunchtime, all right?”
“Of course,” Ronni answered, puzzled.
“See you then.” Emma turned and hurried down the hall.
Ronni wondered if Emma really did know or at least suspected who sent the note.
The lounge was empty. She wondered where Liz was. Maybe in her office working. If so, she didn’t want to disturb her. She made herself a cup of coffee and leaned back in one of the easy chairs. Too bad, she thought, she had only fifteen minutes or so before her next class. She could use a short nap after getting home late after the concert.
They stopped for coffee and hadn’t gotten back to the apartment till almost midnight. Despite her long history of appearing in plays, Ronni was not particularly a night person. Her career and her preferences sometimes didn’t match. She wondered if she could risk taking a short siesta.
She woke in a daze when the warning bell rang. She looked at her watch. Two minutes till class time. She hurried to the sink and splashed water on her face to try to wake up. She blotted up the water with a paper towel and hurried to the auditorium. The class would be presenting their first scenes today, the first they’d actually directed. It should be fun.
It was fun. Each scene ran a couple of minutes. And the class had chosen from a wide variety of plays from Sophocles Oedipus Rex to a scene from Tony Kushner’s Angels in America.
“I hear the police were here again,” Liz said as Ronni joined her for lunch in the cafeteria. “Something about a threat to Millie?”
Ronni couldn’t help laughing. “I’m amazed how fast bad news travels!” She sobered. “There was a typed message on a sheet of typing paper that someone shoved under the door to Millie’s locker. She came to show it to me. While she was there, she received a phone call telling her to heed what the note said.”
Liz leaned forward. “Which was…”
“She had to be careful because something could happen to her.”
“Wow, that’s getting serious, isn’t it?”
Ronni shook her head and sighed. “Millie thinks it might be some sort of prank, an attempt at being funny.”
Liz drew down the corners of her mouth. “I don’t think there’s anything funny about it.”
“That’s why I insisted we call the police. The same two detectives came. You know when they arrested Millie, they treated her really bad. I was determined they wouldn’t this time. I was all prepared to say something about it. There’s no excuse for that. In the eyes of the law Millie is an adult. But in reality she was just a frightened teenager.”
“So did you say something to them?” Liz asked.
“Didn’t have to,” Ronni replied. “They were far less aggressive; more neutral in their questioning.”
“Wonder why the change,” Liz remarked.
“Maybe the situation itself. I can’t see them changing their attitude completely toward Millie. The last time they treated her as if she were judged and found guilty! No objectivity whatsoever. Maybe they changed their approach this time because she was the target, rather than the suspected perpetrator.”
“You have no idea who threatened her?”
“None whatsoever. But a strange thing happened—which illustrates what I said earlier that bad news—and gossip—seem to travel faster than the speed of light.” She smiled, her tone ironic. “The police were here during my free period. Afterward, I went to the lounge for a cup of coffee before my directing class. As I was about to open the door, Emma rushed up to me and said she knew who threatened Millie.”
Liz leaned forward in her chair. “She knew?”
“So she said.”
“So who was it?”
Ronnie shrugged. “She didn’t tell me. She said she was in a hurry to get back to class and would talk to me at lunchtime. Well, here it is, lunchtime and so far no Emma.”
“Strange!” Liz remarked. “I mean that she said she’d be here, and she isn’t.”
At that moment Emma hurried through into the cafeteria, a frown on her face. She hurried toward Ronni and Liz, a sheet of paper in her hand. She thrust the paper toward Ronnie. “Look at this,” she said.
Ronni took the sheet of paper and read what it said.
“You think you know who stuck the paper under the door of Millie’s locker. Well, maybe you do. But if you tell anyone… Well, let’s just put it this way. I wouldn’t want to be in your shoes. I’m sure you’ve heard the saying, ‘What’s good for the goose is good for the gander.’ Or to be more precise, what could happen to one person could very easily happen to another. In case you don’t believe me, just wait and see.”
“You just received this?” Ronni asked.
“When I put my books in my locker after my last class. Same as with Millie. It was shoved under my locker door. Who would have done this? Who even would have time to do it? And how did they know I’m pretty sure of who it is?” She shook her head. “I’m starting to get really worried. First it was Sylvia. Now…”
“We’ve got to call the police again.” She shook her head. “I just can’t believe this.”
“But maybe if you do know who it is and you tell us,” Liz said, “or tell the police, maybe they will talk to the person and that will be the end of it.”
“You think so?” Emma sounded vulnerable.
“I wouldn’t doubt it,” Ronni answered.
“Well, I think you’d better to talk to Alice.” She motioned toward a girl sitting at a small table by herself. She had an open book in front of her and was reading it as she ate.
“Do you think she’s the one who threatened you?”
“No, but another one of Sylvia’s followers did. I overheard some stuff. You know, because I was Sylvia’s friend, the followers have been more open around me. Less guarded in what they say. I heard Alice tell a couple of the other girls that they were going to have to give another one of the followers a good talking to.”
Ronni frowned. “Why did she say that? Is something going on we don’t know about?”
“From what I gather,” Emma said, “there’s some sort of disagreement or something in the group. One of them apparently did something the others found objectionable. Not sure what. And I’m not sure which one they were talking about. I can guess, but I don’t want to point any fingers yet. But like I said, I think maybe you should try to talk to Alice.”
“After I call the police again.”
“Do you think it might be better to talk to Alice first and have her tell you who sent the note?”
“Maybe she’s right,” Liz said. “We are, I think, in a better position than the police would be to discover who it was.”
“You’re both probably right. We can call the police, if necessary, after we talk to Alice,” Ronni said.