Triple Threat

by Koetting, Alexis

  “Was Vince stalking him?” Jeffers asked.

  “No, nothing like that. It’s more like he wanted to be Al. They met at theatre school and ever since it’s like Vince has been trying to copy Al in everything. When Al stopped acting and started giving workshops, Vince did the same a few months later. Al took over as artistic director of a children’s theatre here in Niagara, and a year later we’d heard that Vince had been hired by a theatre for young audiences in Toronto. When Al finally went into teaching full time, guess who also made the move? I heard he even tried to date men at one point.”

  “It’s possible that’s all coincidental.”

  “Anything’s possible but—”

  “Were they friends when they were at school together?” I interrupted.

  “I don’t get the impression they were. Al never said so. There’s something off about Vince though. I’ve felt it every time I’ve met him. Al was always nice to everyone, but even he got a little unnerved when Vince was around. He’d be polite and professional when they saw one another, but that’s all.”

  “And how often did they see each other?”

  “A couple of times a year, I guess. If there was a function for the school board. But that’s only recently. Vince didn’t work for the Niagara region until a few years ago.”

  “And now he has Al’s job,” I mused.

  Glynn nodded sadly. “Listen, on the phone you said something about a picture?”

  “Um, yeah,” I said, handing it over. We didn’t really need it now, but as it was what got us this meeting in the first place, I felt I should continue the ruse. “I found it in one of the books in Al’s office.”

  “Look how young he is here. God, he was so beautiful. And that smile. I remember the first time he smiled at me.” A small tear ran down Glynn’s cheek. “This was in one of Al’s books?”

  “I assumed it was Al’s,” I lied. “Come to think of it, it may have been one of Vince’s.”

  “That would make more sense. I can’t imagine Al holding on to this. He wasn’t a keepsake kind of guy.” He handed the photo back to me without commenting on Vince’s presence in the picture. “Bella, I know you’re going to be working with Vince and I’m sorry if I’ve coloured your impression of him. Regardless of my feelings, he is, reportedly, a very good teacher. I wonder if you would do a favour for me. For Al actually.”

  “Sure. If I can.”

  “Al was coaching a student privately. Secretly, I guess you could say. He told me the girl’s family didn’t want her taking drama. Her father even came to the school one day and pulled the girl out of class. Since then he’s been working with her one-on-one.”

  “That’s pretty risky, going against a parent’s wishes,” Jeffers said.

  “Al tried to work things out. He went to talk to the father but was met with so much resistance. He told me the girl was one of the most promising students he’d ever had. Such raw, natural talent. He knew she was destined for great things and he was excited to have the opportunity to be able to mould and shape and be a part of her development. It was important to Al. She was important to Al. I know he’d want Vince to continue. Will you tell him?”

  “Absolutely. Do you know the name of the student?”

  “Ellie.”

  Chapter 8

  “Ellie’s got to be Elsbeth,” I said as soon as we had settled ourselves at a little table in the back of The Old Firehall, one of St. David’s two restaurants. “That would explain why she was at the school so early. She wasn’t meeting a friend to study. She was meeting Macie for one of their sessions.”

  “It would also give us a possible motive,” Jeffers said. “If her father found out Macie was secretly coaching her, he may have been angry enough—”

  “To kill him?” I whispered, finishing Jeffers’ thought. “I don’t know. It seems a little extreme.”

  “Samuel, I don’t think whoever murdered Macie did so intentionally. The way he died indicates, to me, that he was killed in the heat of the moment. If the father was mad enough, there’s no telling what he could have done.”

  I shook my head. “But Ellie and her family are Mennonite. Violence isn’t part of their way of life.”

  “All the more reason to cover up the murder as a suicide,” he said with a wink.

  “I’m more interested in Vince Leduc,” I said.

  “Yeah, that’s a possibility too.”

  “A possibility? You heard Glynn. The man was obsessed with Al Macie.”

  “‘Obsessed’ is a bit strong. Just because the guy’s career path mirrored Macie’s doesn’t make him a stalker. They weren’t friends. They rarely saw one another. There’s nothing to indicate motive. As far as I can tell the two men had very little to do with each other at all.” I opened my mouth to object and Jeffers cut me off. “Look, I agree with you there’s more to Leduc. There’s something … odd about the whole thing, yes, but I’m just not feeling him for the killer.”

  “Well, I’m not feeling Ellie’s father.”

  “I should hope not. I think the good doctor would have something to say about that.”

  “Oh, stop it,” I said with a laugh. “You know what I mean.”

  A waiter came by and we placed our order.

  “Listen,” Jeffers started when the waiter had gone, “I don’t know a lot about Mennonites so I’ll take your word for it about the violence thing, but from the little I do know, there’s a strong emphasis on family. If Ellie’s father felt Macie was a threat to his daughter in any way—”

  “A threat? He was giving her acting lessons!”

  “Keep your voice down. Maybe there was more to it. We really won’t know anything until you talk to the girl.”

  If Jeffers was right and Macie was killed without intent, I had to admit that an angry father trumped a copycat teacher for the more likely prime suspect. I let out a resigned sigh.

  “Now, Samuel, don’t pout. If you want to look into Leduc too, go for it. But talk to Ellie first. She’s the priority.”

  “I’m sorry we have to do this like in primary school,” Vince said, pulling out the attendance folder. “Once I get to know all of you, this will be much easier; until then, please bear with me.” He proceeded to call out names and the students indicated their presence with various “heres,” hand waves, and the odd “yo.” I did my best to follow along and match faces to the names.

  We were in the same studio in which Al Macie had been found. These kinds of theatres are typical for any high school or university training program due to the ability to transform the space easily to meet the needs of any exercise or production. They are also the performance space of choice for experimental theatre or any production that requires an intimate, simple focus. Familiarly known as a black box, it was a large square room with black walls, ceiling, and floor. To go with the black mood that prevailed.

  I didn’t know how much the students knew of the details of Al’s death but rumours fly and kids talk. There was a cloud hanging over the room. A cloud and a grid for lights. Most of the fresnels had been removed during the investigation and were on the floor and off to the side. Looking at the students, I guessed I wasn’t the only one who looked at the grid differently.

  Black platforms forming five rows each had been arranged on three sides of the square playing space and chairs were stacked at the ends of each row. The class was seated in the centre section. I easily identified Elsbeth Penner among a small group of girls and confirmed she was the girl I had seen crying on the morning of Al Macie’s death. As Vince Leduc came to the end of the list of names, I noticed Elsbeth’s had not been called.

  “Okay,” Leduc said, putting the attendance folder in a slot just outside the door, “before we begin, I’d like to officially introduce the amazing Bella James.” He stretched out an arm to where I was sitting and the class burst into a round of applause. “Bella is going to be with us a couple of days a week for the next seven weeks, as you know. I mentioned yesterday that most of the focus this wee
k is going to be on getting comfortable with each other. If we are going to be vulnerable together in this room, we have to be able to trust one another. And that goes for Bella too. If you’re okay with that?” He talked to the students but directed the last question to me.

  “Can’t wait.” Vince and I had already agreed on what we wanted my role in the class to be, but he wanted to ensure that the students considered me one of the group rather than a special guest.

  “I know you all probably have questions for Ms. James and I assure you, there will be plenty of time to pick her brain. But for now, let’s all get on our feet and get started.”

  The students scattered themselves on the floor. Once Elsbeth had found herself a place, I nonchalantly adjusted my own position to be closer to her. We shared a smile and I feigned an apology for not remembering her name.

  “Ellie,” she said.

  “Ah,” I said with mock frustration. “I tried to catch all the names during attendance. I must have missed it. I’m sorry.”

  “Oh, I’m not on the list. Mr. Macie lets me take this class during one of my spares. I mean, he let me.” Her voice broke off and I saw her sadness behind her eyes. “I haven’t talked to Mr. Leduc about it yet.”

  When I’d arrived earlier I filled Vince in on Al’s arrangement with Elsbeth, as per Glynn’s request. He promised to help in any way he could. If Ellie came to him.

  “I’m sure it won’t be a problem,” I said, smiling sympathetically.

  Vince led us through a physical and vocal warm-up before launching into a couple of improvisation games and some meatier work. Slowly but surely, the dark clouds that hovered started to clear and the students began to relax into the new normal.

  Vince and I had agreed that we would participate in the exercises along with the students for the first week. He was sensitive to the fact that the students were still grieving the loss of their teacher and didn’t want to pick up from where Al had left off without establishing some kind of relationship of his own with them. I admired his compassion, in spite of my suspicion that he was somehow involved in Al’s murder.

  “I think by the end of the week we should be able to get into some of the work Al started with them,” Vince said when we were alone after the class had ended. “I know we only have you twice a week but I’d really love for you to take over as much as you want when you’re here. There are a number of students auditioning for university programs so it will be especially valuable to them to have your level of expertise to draw from.”

  “Sounds great, but I’m hardly an expert,” I said. “Besides, you were an actor.”

  He laughed. “A million years ago. And not a very good one at that.” He gave me a puzzled look. “How did you know that?”

  “The books,” I said clumsily, indicating his shelves. I was dangerously close to giving away that I knew much more about him than he thought I did. “They’re books actors have. Not teachers. Unless the teachers were once actors,” I blathered. “I just assumed.”

  “Mr. Leduc? I’m sorry to interrupt.” Ellie’s appearance at the office door brought an end to the subject and saved me from myself. I had to be more careful.

  “Not at all,” Vince said. “Come on in. Ellie, right?”

  “Yes, um …” She looked at me. “Did you tell him?”

  I shook my head.

  “Have a seat,” Vince said. “I’m assuming this is about what you were working on with Mr. Macie?”

  “You know about that?”

  “Mr. Macie’s partner filled me in. He said whatever it is that you two were doing was pretty important to him. If I can help at all, I’d be happy to.”

  He spoke the words as if he’d really had a conversation with Glynn instead of hearing of Glynn and Al’s sentiments through me.

  Relief spilled over Ellie. “Mr. Macie let me take this class even though I’m not registered for it. It’s a long story but it’s really important that there’s no record of it on my report card. I’ll still do all the assignments and the exams and everything. And I want you to give me a mark; it just can’t be official.” Vince listened intently. Ellie went on. “I have an audition for The National Theatre School in a couple of weeks. Mr. Macie was helping me with my monologues. It wasn’t every day. Just once or twice a week.”

  “I think I can manage that,” Vince said.

  “We have to meet during lunch. It has to be lunch. I don’t mind if you eat or anything.”

  “Why lunch?” Vince asked. Ellie hesitated. Vince didn’t press her. “It doesn’t matter. What pieces are you doing?”

  “The Shape of a Girl and As You Like It.”

  “Rosalind?”

  “Phoebe.”

  Vince made a face. “Everyone does Phoebe.”

  “NTS gave us a list to choose from. I really wanted to do something from An Inspector Calls, but they were pretty insistent about Shakespeare for the classical monologue.”

  “All the schools are. Listen, why don’t you come by tomorrow at lunch and we’ll see what you’ve got.”

  “Really?” she asked. Vince nodded. “Oh, thank you so much.” Ellie stood. I don’t think I’d ever seen someone so grateful. She moved to the door but turned back quickly. “And I can stay in the class?”

  “It wouldn’t be the same without you.”

  She gave an excited squeal. “Thank you, Mr. Leduc. You won’t be sorry. I promise.” She turned to go.

  “Ellie, hang on. I’ll walk out with you,” I said and grabbed my things. I wanted to get out of the office before Vince remembered what we had been talking about before Ellie arrived.

  “An Inspector Calls, huh? That’s a tough play,” I said, as we wormed our way through those students who had not yet made it to their next class.

  “The Shaw did it a few years ago. Wallis Canlon played Sheila. I love her. She’s amazing. The show was amazing.”

  “I’ve heard.”

  “She’s playing Sonia in Uncle Vanya this year. I can’t wait to see it. Do you know her?”

  “Not well but we’ve met.”

  I listened to her gush about her idol for a little while longer before I asked if she went to the Festival often.

  “Not as much as I’d like. I’d see everything if I could.”

  I would have loved another couple of hours with Ellie to really gain her trust but a bell rang for the next class. I needed something to bring to Jeffers so I dove in. “Your parents must be pretty proud of you getting an audition for NTS.”

  “It’s just my dad.”

  “Well, he must be especially thrilled then.” Her walking slowed and she fell silent. “Ellie?”

  “Ms. James, if I tell you something will you promise not to tell Mr. Leduc?”

  “Of course.”

  “My father doesn’t know about NTS.”

  I stopped. It had been a long time since I’d auditioned for theatre school, but I knew such auditions took place in major city centres. Although NTS likely auditioned across the country I doubted Niagara-on-the-Lake was on its list of stops.

  “Ellie, where’s the audition?”

  “Toronto. If I catch the eight o’clock bus from St. Catharines, I’ll have plenty of time to do the audition and be back in Niagara before school’s out. My dad will never know.”

  “Ellie, that’s very risky. If something were to happen to you—”

  “Nothing will happen! I have it all figured out. It will be fine.”

  “I’m sure if you explain things to your dad, he’ll understand.”

  “He won’t. You don’t know, Ms. James. If my dad knew, he’d …”

  I could see she was getting upset. “Okay. It’s okay,” I said. She took a deep breath and seemed to calm. “Do you want to tell me what this has to do with Mr. Leduc?”

  “My father found out I was meeting Mr. Macie and, I don’t know what he said to him, but Mr. Macie told me he couldn’t help me anymore. If Mr. Leduc knew that, he might not—”

  “Hold on a sec. Your father
went to see Mr. Macie?”

  “Yes.”

  “When was this?”

  “The day before …”

  “Before he was killed?” Ellie nodded. “Ellie, why were you at the school so early the morning of Mr. Macie’s death?”

  She looked to the floor and mumbled something about studying for a test.

  “Ellie, there was no test, was there?”

  Her gaze stayed fixed on the linoleum tiles.

  “Ellie—”

  “Elsbeth!” We turned to see a boy about fifteen. Like Ellie, he was dressed in the traditional Mennonite style. He was tall and muscular. The kind of muscles one develops from hours of long work outdoors rather than from time spent in a gym. I guessed he was her brother. “Why aren’t you in French?”

  Ellie’s cheeks reddened. “I’m going,” she said, then glanced at me. “I just had to show this lady where the library was.”

  “Yes, thank you,” I said, following Ellie’s lead. “I’m sure I can find it from here.”

  “It’s at the end of the hall,” the boy said, attitude colouring his words.

  “Great.”

  He stared at me, his eyes nearly penetrating the lie. Ellie brushed by me clutching her books to her chest and her head lowered subserviently. The boy caught her arm as she passed him.

  “Who is that?”

  “I told you, she’s nobody. Just some woman looking for the library.”

  She broke free of his grasp and hurried down the hall. I started walking in the opposite direction. I could feel the boy’s eyes on my back. I didn’t turn around. There was something about him that sent shivers down my spine.

  Chapter 9

  “You think she’s involved somehow?” Jeffers asked me later that evening.

  “I don’t know, but I think it’s possible. She seems desperate to go through with this audition. Once Macie cut her off, maybe she felt the only way to get the help she needed was to get a new teacher.”

  Jeffers looked up at me from the floor of my kitchen where he was waiting for Moustache to return the toy lion he had thrown. “Remember, Samuel, that I said Macie was likely killed in the heat of the moment. I know he wasn’t a big guy, but I still don’t think a seventeen-year-old girl would have the capability—”