Murder in the Theater (Cold Creek Book 4)

by Christa Nardi

  I nodded and tried to change the subject. “So Max, how are your classes going? Your lab? Did you ever figure out how your mice got loose? Is your lab back in business?”

  “My lab is open again and passed inspection. I’m still not sure what happened. Priscilla was there and she insisted it was my fault because I didn’t make sure the door was closed.”

  He puffed out his chest as he explained, “I’m a scientist. I understand how important it is for research to be exact. I think she let them out because I’m friends with you and she hated you.”

  Priscilla’s actions toward me were fairly benign – hangups and threatening notes. Max tended to make us all a little crazy sometimes, so she might have opened the mice cages. I chuckled as I recalled everyone running and jumping as the mice scampered in all directions. As I visualized the scene and laughed, more of my tension dissipated.

  Max left and I tackled the tasks at hand until Kim came by to get me. I saw an email from Tonya on behalf of the Chancellor, groaned, and chose to ignore it for the time being.

  CHAPTER 9

  It was a short walk and the brisk air felt good. The layout of the Fine Arts Building mirrored the Humanities Building. That made it easy to find the main office. An admin directed us to Dr. Gorganz’s office. The door was open and a tall, thin man with long gray hair and a full scraggly beard sat at the desk. With his dark, loose shirt and pants, he reminded me of a wizard. He only needed the hat with the stars and moon on it. Kim knocked to get his attention.

  “Dr. Gorganz? I’m Kim Pennzel and this is Sheridan Hendley. We have an appointment to talk with you.”

  He looked up before turning to Kim and then me. He waved to the two chairs and we sat down. I smiled and waited for Kim to start us off.

  “Thank you for taking the time to meet with us, Dr. Gorganz. As faculty ourselves, we understand how precious your time is, especially this time of the year.”

  A grimace was his only response.

  “We wanted to talk to you about Isaac Waxman. We are helping his attorney prepare for his defense. How well do you know Isaac?”

  Dr. Gorganz gazed at the ceiling, shook his head slightly, and tapped his fingers together. “I’ve had Isaac in two classes this semester and one last year. He is smart and talented.”

  Kim didn’t have a quick response, so I jumped in.

  “Dr. Gorganz, didn’t you also know Will Thompson?”

  His head jerked back and he glared at me. “Yes. You obviously already know that.”

  “What was your relationship with him? Is that how Isaac got involved with the Community Theater?”

  With another jerk of his head and grimace, Dr. Gorganz spouted, “Are you somehow blaming me for this? With that detective coming by and asking everyone questions, it sure seems like it. Then that reporter from the Gazette harasses us. No way did Isaac kill the jerk!”

  “We are not trying to place blame on you or anyone else. At this point, we,” Kim paused and with her arm motioned to me, “don’t know who is to blame. We are on Isaac’s side. Any information you can provide about Thompson, Isaac, or anyone else who might be involved could help Isaac.”

  Dr. Gorganz shook his head, and at least for the moment his anger seemed to dissipate. He studied the wall for a few minutes and then turned back toward us.

  “Thompson wasn’t gay, you know. If this was a hate crime like some people said, they killed the wrong person. He was despicable, incompetent, and a despot, but not gay.”

  I nodded and opted to direct the conversation away from the murder.

  “We would like to know a little about the history of the community theater in Altavista. How did it get started?”

  His facial features relaxed some and he leaned back.

  “Probably the way most community theaters start. Someone interested in the arts mentions the interest to others, coupled with the lack of opportunity to enjoy live drama. Someone adds in that children and youth don’t appreciate the arts and there’s less emphasis on music and art in the schools these days. We’d had the theatre troupe in Altavista for a few years, but its focus is on children and families with only Saturday matinees.”

  He shrugged and Kim prompted, “And why another theater – a community theater?”

  “I’m not sure who had the idea to begin with.” He scratched his chin and stared at the ceiling.

  “Back when the troupe started, I think plays someone wrote about the town history were performed by adults and children, using the school gymnasium. Very simple, like an expanded school assembly that included community members. Interest grew and the troupe started to perform more elaborate, child-focused and child-involved shows every Saturday.”

  He nodded and continued, “Adelaide Mercer and a group of adults expanded the repertoire to musicals and the occasional Shakespearean play and invited faculty and students from the college here to assist. That was the beginning of the community theater. Regular people, now mostly adults with venues that appealed to adults.”

  “Do you know when Thompson got involved in the theater group?”

  “He was involved in some theater activities years back, I think, but not as an actor. I always had the impression his role in the theater was related to his job somehow, not because of any real knowledge, though he proclaimed an interest in the arts.”

  Although I wasn’t sure what a city planner did, community theater wasn’t what came to mind.

  “So how did he become the Director and Chairman of the Board?”

  Dr. Gorganz shook his head. “The interest mushroomed and with along with the interest, a desire to move on to more classic plays, more Broadway shows, more musicals. It’s a natural enough progression, but requires more of everything, including money. Adelaide was the unofficial leader and recognized the need for something more than everyone chipping in – an official organization if you will – if the theater was going to grow and do the more popular productions.”

  He looked at the ceiling and took a deep breath before he continued his story. His voice softened as he described Adelaide. “She was the heart of the community group, caring and giving, always has been.” His expression was wistful and he shook his head before he continued.

  “She contacted a corporate attorney and he drew up the documents that now serve as the Bylaws of the Altavista Community Theater detailing the Board Members with a designated Chair. The Director is not necessarily the Chair, although Adelaide served as both initially. Then she decided to step down. She is still on the Board, only not as involved. She recommended Thompson as the Chair based on his knowledge of business and finance. Somehow that got translated to his being the Director as well instead of somebody who actually knew the arts.”

  He rolled his eyes and I asked, “What do you really think prompted her to step down and recommend him to be the Chair?”

  He stared at the ceiling again before he answered. “I’m not sure. Adelaide is a classy lady with a passion for the arts. Adelaide had dreams of what the community theater could be, but she didn’t have the money. She and Thompson were…friends, I guess is the best way to put it. His wife, Honey, comes from money. With him as Director, Honey – or her family – provides the funding for the productions and hold the lease on the building the theater is in now. I think Adelaide knew what would happen if he became the Chair.”

  “What is his wife’s involvement in the theater?”

  “As far as I know, she never stepped foot in the building, so it wasn’t her love of the arts that motivated her. Now I’ve gotten to know Thompson, I think she wanted him out of the house.” He snorted.

  “Did he have free rein to do what he wanted?” asked Kim with a quick look to me.

  Dr. Gorganz grunted. “That’s why when the corporation was put in place, the Board established there would be no stated link between Chair and Director roles. The Board has to approve the selections and, on paper, could override the Chair or Director – now Thompson – on any decisions. He needed approval for any funds
to take care of costumes, set work, marketing, and such. Only it didn’t work that way. Unless someone filed a complaint, the Board is powerless except to say yeah or nay over his choice of production. With his wife’s family controlling the financing, he didn’t have direct access to the funds, but he still held the purse strings. At least that was how it seemed to me.”

  “What about the actors and actresses? Who made the casting decisions?”

  “Initially? Three members of the Board including Thompson. In the past, there were many people interested and multiple auditions. I’ll give him credit. He picked popular musicals, most recently Oklahoma!. With each subsequent production, interest dwindled. For A Christmas Carol, there were so few I think all the auditions were done in one day and everyone was cast for at least two parts. In effect, if anyone auditioned, regardless of whether Thompson thought they were competent or not, they got a part or multiple parts in the play. Of course, he doesn’t think anyone is competent except himself.”

  “Dr. Gorganz, what do you think was the problem? How did Thompson explain it?”

  “The problem was his condescending attitude and lack of talent. He never performed himself except in minor roles, yet he criticized everyone. Constantly. Belittled them. He took no blame. No one was any good. They didn’t want to work hard. They were thin-skinned.” He shook his head and fingered his beard. His sentiments matched the message by “Jule” on Thompson’s website, thankfully without the profanity.

  “Now he’s gone, what happens to the theater? Who takes over as Chair and production Director?”

  “I think we’re done here. I have a class to teach.”

  Dr. Gorganz stood up and waited for us to follow suit. We thanked him for meeting with us and departed. Although we’d gotten more information than Brett, we’d found nothing concrete to help Isaac.

  CHAPTER 10

  With help from one of the advisors, Kim had set up a meeting with students who knew Isaac and that was our next stop. At the classroom we were assigned, we found six students, one of whom I recognized as a student in our department. Kim explained we wanted to talk to them about the death of Will Thompson in Altavista and their classmate Isaac. I followed with information on the counseling center if they needed to talk to someone.

  “Can you tell us how you each knew Isaac? How you would describe him?”

  In the silence that followed, I glanced over to Dirk.

  “Dr. Hendley, I knew him – saw him around, but didn’t hang with him,” Dirk offered. He looked to the others in the class.

  “He jammed with Miles and me sometimes,” one of the students commented, motioning toward another student. Miles, like Isaac, was nice-looking even in the standard t-shirt and jeans.

  “Hank’s right. We got together today. Instead of jamming, we ended up talking about the charges against Isaac,” Miles added, shaking his head.

  Hank nodded. A bit on the stocky side, Hank had a less polished look.

  “So the three of you jammed? Isaac on guitar when he jammed with you, right?” My guess was based on the picture on Isaac’s website.

  “No. Well, yes, but not as often these days. Isaac was too busy what with the play in Altavista. Sometimes Al would jam with us and play bass and Melodie does the vocals,” Hank explained. “For a while the five of us played together, the Dynamites. Now we get together to have fun.”

  “Al? Melodie?” Kim looked around the group.

  “Melodie’s Isaac’s girlfriend. She hasn’t been around since this all went down. I talk to her about every day. This morning she said she was going to try to come back to campus tomorrow after the funeral,” offered a young woman with straight brown hair covering her face. We learned later her name was Jasmine.

  Everyone nodded at Jasmine’s announcement. I didn’t realize the funeral had been set. Funerals, like weddings, were as much for the guests as anyone else. In the case of funerals, they gave people closure. Unfortunately, unless the murder was solved, there wouldn’t really be closure this time.

  “Did Isaac mention anything about the play?”

  Hank snorted. “He said it was a disaster. Likened it to an elementary school production run by the wicked witch of the East.”

  “He convinced Melodie and me to audition. I told him if I wanted to get yelled at I could stay home.” Miles shook his head. “But, Isaac never said anything about killing him, not even in jest.”

  “Yeah, he convinced Al to try out too.”

  Miles looked around and asked, “Anyone seen Al lately?”

  They all shook their heads. Hank turned to the girl sitting with her head down. “Jas?”

  “I haven’t heard from him. Not since the murder and Isaac’s arrest.” She shrugged her shoulders and didn’t volunteer anything else.

  Kim and I thanked the students and gave them our contact information in case they thought of anything that might help Isaac.

  As we walked to our next meeting, I texted Brett and let him know that at the moment at least, Al Jackson was missing from campus. He immediately called and I filled him in on our meeting. It could be nothing, but his absence coincidental with the murder and coupled with the audition made him a person of interest. I didn’t remember his name from the list of cast members so he might have a motive. And there was the user name “alyourpal” on Thompson’s blog. So far this was the only person named Al.

  One more faculty member, Dr. Laura Patrissi, had agreed to talk to us. She had silky black hair that fell to mid-back contrasted with a pale complexion, red lipstick and black eyes. Her black, low-cut top accentuated her voluptuousness despite a slim frame. She reminded me of Anjelica Huston as Morticia Addams, without the black gloves.

  As we walked in and introduced ourselves, she announced, “I don’t know why I agreed to talk to you.”

  “We appreciate that you did, Dr. Patrissi.”

  I didn’t know where to start. Her name had been on the list from Marty but not with any explanation. I raised my eyebrows and nodded to Kim.

  “Dr. Patrissi, how well do you know Isaac Waxman?”

  She looked from Kim to me without much emotion. She shrugged her shoulders.

  “I had him in Music Composition. He’s a good student, talented even.”

  Not very helpful information, and I couldn’t tell if she liked or disliked Isaac. I decided to try a different approach.

  “Some of the faculty and students here are also involved in the community theater in Altavista. What is your connection to the theater or Will Thompson?”

  Her face flushed, her body stiffened, and she glared at me.

  “What have you heard? It’s all a lie. I never had an affair with Will. That’s not why he gave me the part in Oklahoma! or West Side Story. I deserved those parts. Anyone who says otherwise is just jealous. It wasn’t fair Will wouldn’t let me audition this time.”

  I glanced sideways to Kim and she recovered first.

  “We haven’t heard anything about you and Will Thompson, Dr. Patrissi. Since you were in plays he directed, can you help us understand his approach? How did he treat the cast, yourself included, of course?”

  She relaxed her body and her facial expression softened as she described him. She was the only person thus far who had said anything remotely positive about Thompson.

  “He was … He was a perfectionistic and knew what he wanted. He didn’t settle for less. A traditionalist. He wasn’t well liked, still he didn’t deserve the way his wife treated him.”

  “Oh, did you know his wife? We haven’t heard much about her.”

  Dr. Patrissi frowned and hesitated before answering.

  “No, I never met Honey, but people talk you know. I think I’ve told you all you need to know.” She turned so her back was to us, terminating the conversation.

  “Thank you for your time.”

  With no one else to meet with, we returned to our offices. Both wiped out, we agreed to write down our impressions separately and then compare notes later.

  I w
as about to text Brett about our dinner plans when he materialized in front of me. All six foot of him, with his hazel eyes, dark brown curly hair, and toned muscles looked good leaning against my doorframe. I could tell the color was rising in my face.

  He chuckled at the blush and asked if I was ready to go. I hadn’t expected him to show up on campus and he didn’t offer an explanation. We walked out together and then met back at the house. He’d stopped to pick up lasagna and I threw a salad together.

  “Sher, what prompted the question about whether anyone had looked at Isaac’s school records and whether he had a history at the counseling center?” He stared at me with his head tilted.

  “Joe Janis harassed the student workers, counselors, and clients at the Student Counseling Center this morning.” I shrugged. “If the question of his mental state was answered, then Joe would go away and students could get the services and support they need.”

  He exhaled loudly. “You knew he was never there, didn’t you?”

  “No, I didn’t – though I suspected as much. And at least the question is answered and there won’t be any more innuendo he’s a mental case. Anything else new?” I could tell he wasn’t happy even though he seemed less stressed.

  “Maddie called today and her mother is pressuring her to have Thanksgiving with her grandparents. Victoria apparently inferred that with their age and health how important it might be, yada yada. I’m sure you get the picture. Then she pointed out Maddie had seen my parents in July and hadn’t seen hers since last Thanksgiving. So even though it is my turn for Thanksgiving, Victoria laid on the guilt pretty thick. Bottom line, I didn’t guilt trip her but made it clear she would spend Christmas with us.”

  “At least it’s settled. You – we – knew she’d be with Victoria for one of the two holidays. Now we know which one. What about Patrick and Terry? Your parents? What will they do for Thanksgiving?”