Death in a Summer Colony
Page 8
“Well, we’re contemporaries. I’ve known him thirty or forty summers, on and off. And I’ve been friends with Verity, summer friends, most of my life. But even at the time of the great breakup, I wasn’t totally on her side. Verity could be very selfish and self-centered. I’ve noticed especially pretty women are like that. They can get away with it. I think Malcolm got tired of being little more than an adornment to the perfect family.”
Ray waited, assuming more was coming. When it didn’t, he asked. “What was your relationship with Wudbine?”
“I would see him a few times over the summer. He was pretty much excluded from the private parties after the divorce. But he’d always come by my cottage early in the season and have a drink. Did the same before the end of the summer, too. He also gave me some investment advice. Helped me with my inheritance. He made some good money for me, and fortunately, I got out early. Never lost a dime in the dotcom or the Bush crash. I’ve heard some people didn’t do as well. There are some jokes circulating about “Malcolm” Madoff. But that wasn’t my experience.”
“Would you give me….”
“I mean, people were just joking. It was something I overheard. People were jealous that he seemed unscathed, while lots of the older folks here lost a big part of their retirement. I don’t know if any of them had anything invested with Malcolm. In recent years he became too big time for us.”
“So you were positively disposed toward Malcolm Wudbine?”
“Absolutely. He had his moments and could be horribly obnoxious. But that was just a cover. I mean, in truth, Malcolm was a black hole of insecurities. All the puffery was just a cover.
“And I’ll tell you something else. In spite of what you may hear, he will be greatly missed. Whenever there was a crisis, the powers that be would run around like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off. Eventually they would get around to asking Malcolm what to do, and he’d tell them. And often he’d even put up the cash to make it happen. Most of these guys couldn’t organize a…well, you get my drift. They are good at goal setting and visioning, but as I said, when it comes to the rubber smacking the road, they can’t get it done. Malcolm was a doer, a damn efficient one.”
She looked at her watch. “Now, Sheriff, you really have to excuse me, but I’ve got to get on the road.”
“What’s the purpose of your trip?”
“The girls, they need grooming.”
“And you’re driving downstate for that?”
“No one up here knows how to cut Scotties. And Stephanie is the only one who can groom them without being bitten. She majored in psychology at Michigan State, and boy does she know how to use it. Few people ever use what they learn in college. She sure does.”
“When do you plan on returning?” asked Ray.
“Tuesday morning. I don’t want to waste any of this beautiful weather.”
“I’ve heard some people are considering leaving….”
“Pure silliness. Let me tell you, lots of people have died here over the years, heart attacks, strokes, and drownings. And, yes, this is a murder and that’s different, but…you know what I mean. I can’t imagine packing up and going home over something like this. If you have any more questions, I shall return by midafternoon on Tuesday.”
17
After watching Florence Carlotta and her pack depart, Ray sat for a long moment and enjoyed the quiet. He listened to the wind in the tall trees and the distant echo of waves against the beach, perhaps more imagined than real. He turned his attention to his notes, highlighting Carlotta’s comments about Malcolm Wudbine looking after her investments. He wondered how many other colony members had had financial dealings with Wudbine over the years. Clearly, Florence Carlotta, given some careful planning, was in a position to kill Wudbine. Would she have been able to shut off the power, or would she have needed a collaborator? His musings were interrupted by a gentle rapping at the screen door.
At Ray’s beckoning, Tony Grattan walked into the building. After shaking hands, Grattan settled into the chair across from him, shifting from side to side, using the armrests to aid in positioning his narrow frame. He sat ramrod straight, his nose, chin, and shoulders in perfect alignment.
“I trust it’s okay that Flossy and I made the trade. She was most insistent. Quite formidable, that woman. It’s hardly worth the psychic energy to oppose her on issues that are less than of life-shaking importance.”
Ray’s only response was a bemused smile. “Walk me through everything that happened last evening. I would like you to start at the cocktail party. Or even before if something comes to mind that you think might shed light on this crime.”
“Well, I can’t imagine that I have anything more to tell you that you didn’t hear from Flossy. My comments will be skeletal by comparison. She’s probably blended every rumor and innuendo from the last 40 years into her account of last night’s tragic events. That woman has a memory like an elephant, and she holds nothing back.”
Ray noted both the words and tone in which they were delivered. “A chronology without extra elaboration would be perfectly acceptable,” Ray responded. “Just the facts.”
“Well, like you said, I started moving the actors and crew toward the theatre an hour before the performance. I had two motives. First, I wanted to get the characters there and in costume and makeup well before curtain time. I wanted people there early so they would have some quiet time to get into character. And the second motive, which probably should have been the first motive if I was really thinking about this chronologically, was to get people out of there so they wouldn’t have too much to drink. Let someone have two, three, or more drinks and their lines get muddled or disappear by the time they walk on stage.”
“And you were able to succeed….”
“Remarkably well. Good group this year. No unpleasantness or friction. No surly drunks. I circulated through the crowd, pointing to my watch, and everyone got the message. Everyone but Malcolm, of course, because he wasn’t at the party. Arriving late is his modus operandi, always the grand entrance, usually with his entourage in tow.”
“How late was he?”
“We were getting ready for the opening curtain. When he came in, I pointed to Flossy and said, ‘You’re in charge. Get him ready.’ She’s the only one in the colony he couldn’t buffalo. I knew he’d be in place and ready for the second scene.”
“You mentioned his entourage. Who was with Wudbine?”
“Interesting enough, no one that I remember. He might have been accompanied as far as the stage door, but I wouldn’t have seen that.”
“So continue.”
“Well, I knew that Malcolm was under control, and we managed to get through the first scene without any lost lines or other problems. I was worried about the lights. That’s been a problem for years, but now it’s worse than ever. People just keep plugging more stuff in. And with all the thunder and lightning…well.”
“So if something went wrong with the electrical system, do you know your way around the collection of electrical boxes?” asked Ray.
“Oh, absolutely. Not all of them, grant you. But I know the main shutoff. David has always said that if something goes horribly wrong, and he’s getting fried, turn off the master switch first. Don’t touch him or try to remove his body. Turn off the master switch and then attend to him.”
“How many other people know about this?”
“Lots. We have this whole safety procedure, and we go through it every summer during our opening orientation. We show crewmembers where the main electrical shutoff is located, just like we show them the locations of the fire extinguishers and how they work. But some of the old-timers have heard this spiel so often, I’m not sure they bother to listen. They just stand there and nod their heads. But in a real emergency, hopefully someone would remember.”
“Where were you when the lights went off?”
“Give me your best estimate of how long the lights were off?”
“Hard to say, really. Two minutes, maybe more. I was trying to keep people calm. Lots of questions were coming my way. People wanted to know how we were going to handle the situation. That kind of thing.”
“Then what happened?”
“I asked everyone to remain in the green room until I checked with David that it was safe to go onstage. I left the green room and walked backstage to talk to him. I could see that something was terribly wrong. I just stayed in the background. A few minutes later you arrived. I was ordered back to the green room.”
“Before and after the lights went off, were you blocking the green room door?”
“I wouldn’t say blocking. And it’s a big door, two doors, actually. I was off to the left on the inside.”
“When the lights were out, could someone have entered or left without your knowing?”
Grattan’s answer was slow in coming. “I don’t know. But if truth be told, I might not notice comings and goings even if the lights were on. My former wife used to say that I had no sense of what was happening around me. And she would have been right on that. If someone is talking to me, that’s where my focus is. I don’t know if it is a problem of peripheral vision, or something cognitive.”
“So you have no memory of anyone entering or leaving the green room when the lights were out, or immediately before or after?”
“Correct. I do remember David saying that someone had pulled the main disconnect.”
“Has that ever happened before?”
“No, not in my memory. That’s the curious thing. Having the lights go off—some of them—that’s no big thing, a common occurrence. But having someone pull the main switch, that’s a big thing.”
“Have there been other acts like this? Maybe one or more individuals, perhaps teenagers, who have been engaged in some mischief or shenanigans?”
“Through the years I can think of cases, even name names of the parties thought to be the troublemakers. We haven’t had those problems in awhile. The population here is getting older. There are almost no young families, not like when I was a kid. And teenagers are few and far between. This event, this messing with the power, is outside the realm of what happens here. Water balloons and toilet paper, maybe, but nothing like this. To my way of thinking, it’s directly connected with Wudbine’s murder.” Grattan paused for a minute. “And you know it’s not rocket science.”
“You’ve lost me,” said Ray.
“All those panels back there. Anyone with limited knowledge of how things work could figure it out. That switch is clearly marked. I think it’s done that way for firefighters. What I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t just be looking at colony people. If some outsiders were looking to kill Malcolm, they could figure this out.”
“Wouldn’t you notice strangers hanging around?”
“That is pretty much a public building. People take tours. We’re used to having visitors around. It’s not unusual to have people standing in the back of the auditorium during rehearsals. They are not disruptive, and we pretend they’re not there.”
“Malcolm Wudbine, how long have you known him?”
“Maybe thirty years off and on, he’s a bit older than me. I worked in the auto industry and got moved around the country a lot. After my parents passed, I shared our cottage with my sister and her family, but there were periods where we didn’t make it here for several seasons. For many decades I knew who he was, but little more. When I got involved in the theatre again, after I got pushed into early retirement, that’s when I had more contact with him.”
“How did you find him, Wudbine?”
“My dealings with him were very limited. He didn’t bother me.”
“Did you have any business or financial dealings with him?”
“No,” Grattan answered. “My contact was here.”
“Do you know anyone who might have a motive to cause him harm?”
“All I know are the rumors and stories, and I don’t even know those very well. I live on my own. I listen to music, read books, walk the shore, and enjoy this place. I do my best to keep away from the noise of other people’s lives.”
18
“Some people thought it was a cruel trick,” said Sterling Shevlin, “casting Malcolm Wudbine as Colonel Protheroe, the most disliked man in St. Mary Mead. And while it is easy to make comparisons between the two, it was no trick, indeed. Malcolm, like he always does, showed up one evening in early June at my cottage with a couple of bottles of Bombay Sapphire. And you see, that’s just the essential Malcolm, far too busy and important to show up and read for a part, but having the time to spend an evening sitting around and talking. And, as usual, before departing, asking if there was a role for him this season.”
Ray looked across at Shevlin as he listened.
“I told him there wasn’t much in Murder at the Vicarage for someone his age. If the people who dramatized the story had stayed closer to Agatha Christie’s book, I would have the perfect part, but as it was in the play, Colonel Protheroe was only a cadaver, and I was planning to use a dummy in the part.
“You can imagine my surprise when he expressed interest in the role. He said it was just perfect. He wouldn’t have to learn any lines, said that was getting harder every year. Malcolm told me he liked being part of the play every year because of the energy he absorbed from other cast members. He liked the tension and excitement and spending time with some of the younger actors. There was also something about that being a replacement for the grandchildren he never had. Malcolm, he was such a bundle of contradictions. There were so many things I liked about him, yet at times over the years, I was the target of his prejudices.”
“Could you elaborate?”
“I used to bring my then companion, Ellis, with me. Malcolm seemed very offended by that. At the time I heard he had started a whispering campaign. He reportedly feared that the colony would become a second Saugatuck. So I confronted Malcolm directly. Ellis and I marched up to his house, the old place before he flattened it and built Gull House. We demanded to talk to him. At first one of his employees said he wasn’t available. I told the young woman that we weren’t going to leave until we had a conversation with Malcolm. She disappeared in sort of a panic. Eventually we were escorted into the library. You can always tell a library created by an interior decorator. None of the books look read, they are just adornments. Eventually Malcolm arrived. I told him what I had been hearing and how offended I was. Well, of course, he denied the whole thing. He was at his most charming, served us sherry, a very good sherry, and told us how much he hated bigotry of any kind. He’s a real chameleon, a lying SOB. But I have to say that after that confrontation, I didn’t hear anything more.”
“Let’s talk about last night,” said Ray. “Were you part of the group that accompanied Tony Grattan down to the theater from the cocktail party?”
“No, I was ahead of the group by 10 or 15 minutes.”
“What were you doing?”
“I have a pre-performance ritual. I love being in an empty theater. I like walking around with just the working lights on. I try to envision how the show should go, and I make a little list of final instructions. I think about each of the main characters and what they have to do to create the necessary tension. Actually, I’ve been doing this from the first rehearsal, but this is my last chance to help people focus. Once you get a cast beyond learning their lines and
blocking, it’s all about tone and nuance. Right before they go onstage, I try to remind each of them of one or two things that will make their character more believable.”
“Who else was in the building?”
“Well, I don’t think anyone was. I didn’t see anyone, but this is a big rambling place. It supposedly has a history of being one of the favorite places for teens to have assignations, probably some of their parents, too. In the costume shop and the property area, there are lots of places one, or shall I say two, can disappear. And then there’s the ghost.” Shevlin looked at Ray. “I can tell, Sheriff, you don’t believe in ghosts, but there is one here. I’ve been in this building for years, sometimes alone, at times in the company of others, when I, we, have heard her laughter. It’s never from the same place. I don’t know how to explain it, eerie, almost hysterical, and definitely sexual. Earlier this summer we had a heating and cooling guy working on the ventilators. He was here and heard it several times. He told me he’d never work here again.”
“To the best of your knowledge, no one else was in the building?”
“As far as I know, no one of a non-spectral nature. I think I heard the ghost, but I don’t pay any attention to her anymore.”
“And then the cast arrived?”
“They all came in together. They were noisy and in high spirits. I think alcohol and the kind of weather we were having last evening played into it. Most of us resonate with violent weather. It causes a kind of madness. Of course, I was immediately concerned about their behavior. When you talk to the cast members, some will tell you I was cross with them, a misinterpretation on their part. I needed them to quiet themselves and start getting into character.”
“Two questions. First, was there anyone missing who should have been here? Second, was there anyone around who shouldn’t have been here? And was there anything out of place, anything that seemed wrong or unnatural?”
Shevlin rubbed his balding pate with his right hand, fingers spread like he might be running them through hair. Then he pulled off his glasses, the heavy horn-rimmed frames, and wiped his eyes, first the left then the right, with a rumpled handkerchief.