That made me wonder about Miller and Vires. Had Vires really developed all of the apps that had been attributed to him by others or had he just had the kernel of an idea that Miller had developed? With both men dead, I thought it unlikely that we’d ever know for sure. Collaborations were like that. Where did one man end and the other begin?
Finally I decided that any action was better than no action. I got in my car and drove to the theater. The doors were locked, but an older man answered the door when I knocked.
“If you’re a reporter, take a photo of my right side. It’s my better one,” he said, giving me the profile to use. “And don’t misspell my name. It’s Harry Armitage.” He spelled it for me.
“Thank you, but I’m not a reporter. I work with the police sometimes,” I said, feeling that in the theater a little dramatic license was allowed. “I had a few questions that I wanted to ask you about James Miller and Evangeline.”
He threw his hands up in the air. “When is enough? They’ve already been here twice this morning to ask questions. What now?”
“When was the last time that you saw Evangeline?”
“It’s been a long time. Three years, maybe four. We ran into each other at a fundraiser for a small dramatic arts company that was trying to get started. What was their name? They made a lot of money that night and lasted perhaps six weeks before going under.”
“Did she ever talk to you about her father?” I wanted to get this over with fast. If the police had been here twice already, a third time was not impossible. I didn’t want to be here when that happened.
He threw the back of his hand across his forehead and swooned slightly. “Oh yes, constantly for the first few years after his death. We called her ‘Ophelia’ after a while. She was obsessed with his death and how it happened. She called it murder long after the police had determined it was a suicide. It was just sad after a while.”
“It appears that it really was murder. New evidence has come to light in the case.”
Armitage shrugged. “Cassandra perhaps would have been a better nickname, I suppose, since she was correct and no one would listen to her.”
Now came the question that I really wanted the answer to. “Do you know if she still had access to make-up and costumes, either here or at home?”
Armitage laughed. Of course, it was a guffaw that would have captured the attention of everyone around, if anyone had been there. “It’s like asking a reporter if he has a pen. Of course, she did. She said that her husband complained that she had enough materials to outfit her own company if she’d wanted to. She had a room at her home that was just used to hold her items from the theater.”
“Was she any good?”
“She was exquisite. She was perhaps the best Stella I’ve ever witnessed and definitely the best Viola I’ve seen. She could easily have gone to Hollywood for a career, but she stayed here with her husband and her father. After they were both gone, I don’t know if she had the funds to move, even if she’d wanted to. She became rather single-minded about her father’s death. It was an interesting study in obsession. I was able to use that in my take on Willie Loman.” He rambled on more about his own works and the awards won. I let him ramble on a bit so I could concentrate on what I needed to know.
“Has she been here recently?” I asked.
“Just once. I was quite shocked. Her ex-husband had made it quite clear that as long as he was a majority investor in the company that she would not be welcome here. Yet here she came like she owned the place and talked to the manager. They had the door closed for the better part of an hour before she came out of the office and left. Barely had a word to say to me, but the manager gets an hour. Typical.”
“So you have no idea what they talked about then?”
He shook his head. “None whatsoever. I think that she wanted to talk about coming back, of all things. There’s a new production of Blithe Spirit being cast here, and I presume she was interested in one of the lead roles. She was delusional if she thought that would ever come to pass. Mr. Miller was quite generous on most things, but on the matter of her performing again, he was adamant.”
“That was the only time you saw her?”
“Yes, it was. As I said, she didn’t talk to me, but I saw her.”
I looked around the room. “I don’t suppose the manager is here today?” I asked hopefully. I wanted to confirm the idea that I already had in my head. However, it didn’t look like there was anyone else in the theater besides us.
“Not today. He’ll be in tomorrow, but I know he’s auditioning, so he’ll be very busy most of the day. Maybe the day after?” Harry said with inflection. “Would you like for me to leave a message for him?”
I wrote my name and number on the back of one of my business cards and asked him to call me at his earliest convenience. Even though it was only a formality to learn that I was correct in my assumptions, I wanted all the questions answered before I talked to Green. I just hoped that she didn’t move too fast and botch her chances for successfully resolving this case.
He saw my card and began to rattle off stories about pets in the theater and shows he’d starred in where a pet was required. As he wound down, I thanked him for his time. I walked outside into the bright daylight and squinted. There was the same homeless woman that I’d talked to before. I greeted her, put five dollars in her can, and asked, “Any sign of your friend recently?”
She shook her head. “She’s never been gone this long. I think something has happened to her. I’d call the police but they don’t care. They never care.”
I walked back to my car and drove home. I had the beginning of some ideas floating around in my head. I needed to talk to Detective Green at some point, but there was no hurry. I didn’t think that anyone would be going anywhere soon.
I kept checking the TV news sites, which seemed to be updated more frequently than the local newspaper, which seemed to have given up in the war to control Toledo’s news. Nothing new was added.
I tried Detective Green’s phone again, but it went directly to voicemail. I was curious on one or two points that I needed qualification on before Morris and Harold could “tell” me what had really happened to James Miller.
I didn’t have to wait too long. Green returned my call within 45 minutes. I’d about decided to open the family file again when the phone rang and alleviated my indecision.
She sounded almost cheerful. “You can put away your Hardy Boys routine now. You can go back to just faking people out on their pets.”
“You sound very certain of yourself. I’m assuming you’re talking about the Miller case. You have it solved.”
She chuckled. “I do. Evangeline Miller just confessed to killing her ex-husband. The case is closed.”
“Except that it isn’t,” I replied.
I waited for fireworks and explosions, but none came. “Listen, just because you got lucky on the Vires’ case and showed that it wasn’t suicide doesn’t mean that you’re better than a homicide detective at this. You should know better, especially after last winter.”
Her reminders to me about the previous winter were getting old. I had made mistakes, but I’d solved the case and come out of it without too many scratches. I knew enough about this case to know that I could solve it without any harm inflicted on my person. I just needed to get her to listen to reason. So far that hadn’t worked out well for me.
“There are some things that you need to hear before you arraign her. This could get embarrassing otherwise.”
“Embarrassing for who?” she asked. “She confessed.”
I took a deep breath. “But any law student knows that the confession has to be backed up by sufficient evidence to stand up in court. How did Evangeline say that she killed him? What was the method of murder?”
Green cleared her throat. “Well, she was rather vague on that. I think that her lawyer wants her to stay non-committal on some details so that it doesn’t appear to be too premeditated, but you can’t ha
ve a locked room mystery without a great deal of planning.”
“And you haven’t had any reports from the coroner about the cause of death either?”
Another deep sigh from the other end of the phone. “No, this isn’t television. They take time to get to all the cases. Some of these guys have to do five autopsies a day. This is a lower priority because it’s not clearly marked as a homicide. If we could do that, then we’d get moved up in the queue.”
“Neither of the Miller wives have suggested a cause of death either?” I asked. If one of them were to come clean, then it would likely implicate the other, since they would both definitely share the knowledge behind the crime. Green didn’t know that yet, and I didn’t want to speak certainly until I was sure that my facts were correct.
“Is there any chance that I could talk to the first Mrs. Miller? I know you don’t appreciate my help in this matter, but if I could ask a few questions, then I’d be able to present all of this to you on a silver platter.”
She laughed “You could, could you? I’d like to see that.”
“Well, if you arrange a meeting between us, I could.”
“No arrangement on my part was needed. She was arraigned and is making bail as we speak. She should be out roaming the streets by the time that I hang up.”
“In a murder case?”
Detective Green laughed, but it was a hard brittle sound. “Yeah, when you have money, that’s what happens. Her lawyer argued that she’s been here her entire life, so there’s no risk of flight. It’s a steep amount, but from what I understand, she’s got quite a bit of money stashed away from her father and selling the firm to her ex-husband.”
“I’m in shock, though it makes it easier for me to ask my questions. Just out of curiosity, would you have let me talk to her in custody?”
I could almost hear her eyes roll over the phone. “Not in a million years. You stick to animals and let me stick to police work. Then there won’t be any problems.”
After I hung up, I found a number for Evangeline’s lawyer. I called and explained that I thought I could clear his client of the murder charges in her ex-husband’s death. However, I needed to ask her a few questions before I could do that. Given the offer of additional evidence that would remove the threat of trial from his client, we set up an appointment for 3pm that day. I still had some time, so I took Bruno for a walk and discussed the murders with him.
The lawyer’s office was all that I expected it to be. The chairs were leather, the walls paneled and the carpet was thick and plush. Everything in it screamed that you were being billed at several hundred dollars per hour. Mr. Fulton indicated a seat for me to take. I sat down and crossed my legs.
“As I’m sure you can understand, Mr. Fitzpatrick, my client wanted me to talk to you first. If I was satisfied that you were on the up-and-up, she would agree to talk to you. So you indicate that you have evidence available to you that would vindicate my client?”
I squirmed in my seat. I hadn’t expected a cross-examination, just a quick response to a few questions that would allow me to close this case out. “I have a few questions for your client regarding the death of her former husband. If she’s honest and forthright, then yes, I think I can provide an acceptable solution to the police that points to another person.”
He squinted in my direction. “What other person would that be?”
I shook my head. “I’m in the presence of a lawyer. I know better than to say something that cannot currently be established as fact. If I get the truthful answers here, my evidence will go immediately to Detective Sheila Green who will then act upon it. I can tell you that the evidence points to someone else though.”
He gave me the slightest of smiles. “You’d make a good lawyer, Mr. Fitzpatrick.” He pressed a button on his desk and spoke. “Please send in Mrs. Miller.”
Within seconds, the door opened and a rather attractive woman in her 40s appeared. She wore pants and a blouse that were rumpled. Her hair was loose and black strands as well as some gray ones fell around her face. She looked at me. “What do you want to ask me? Please I’ll tell you anything.”
I stood up and looked at her. “First you can tell me why you were pretending to be a homeless woman a few days ago. It’s Evie, right?”
She gave me a broad smile. “The actress in me can’t help but enjoy it when someone recognizes my performance. Yes, I was Evie. We met earlier this week. I recognized you as soon as I entered the room.”
“Why exactly were you pretending to be homeless?” I looked at her now and wondered how anyone could have ever thought this woman could look destitute.
“It was simple really. I received a note that purported to be from my ex-husband, inviting me to audition for the role of Elvira. I was immediately suspicious. After our divorce, he’d bought a majority interest in that theater company and banned me from performing.”
“Why did he change his mind?”
She seemed to ignore my question, instead continuing to tell her story. “I went to see the manager of the company. I spoke with him at length, but he still had orders to keep me away from any production. So I was left with a problem. I wanted to know why someone was tormenting me in this way. Why was someone wanting me to be at the theater?”
“Did you find out?”
Her eyes caught mine this time. “No, not at all. Since I couldn’t find an answer from the manager, I decided to stake out the theater to see what was going on and who might want me there. I couldn’t do that as Evangeline Miller, so I found old clothes and became Evie, the homeless woman.”
I nodded, thinking back to her presence even on the street. The other woman had said that she came and went, and also that she had a cat. “Tell me about the cats.”
She shrugged. “I don’t know anything about the cats. One was there sniffing around me during my time there. I didn’t recognize it, and I certainly didn’t encourage it. I liked cats, but I was worried that playing opposite a cat would bring attention to myself. The nice thing about playing homeless is that no one notices you. Most people avert their eyes, so you’re not scrutinized.”
“Did your husband recognize you?” I asked, thinking back to my efforts tailing him around Toledo.
“Not at all. I saw him go into the theater and leave it. He never even glanced in my direction. From what I could tell, he was only there to get tickets for friends, or so one of my friends told me later. He didn’t have any meetings with the producers or manager. He didn’t seem to be involved in the prank at all.”
“Who do you think was involved, if he wasn’t?”
“Someone who wanted me to be in his vicinity just before the murder occurred. If I had to guess, I’d say his wife. She’d stop at nothing to have his money.”
The lawyer cleared his throat and made protestations. “Let’s keep this to facts and not supposition. I don’t want any accusations from my client, any more than you want to commit yourself to any.”
I nodded. “Then I only have one more question. Did you tell the police about your husband’s allergies?”
She looked at me and spun her head to the side. I knew already that I was correct. Her actions told me as clearly as if she’d performed a monologue. “Why should I?”
“What was he allergic to besides cats?” I asked.
She flounced into a chair, admitting defeat. She’d been hiding knowledge for some reason. I wasn’t sure what she had hoped to gain from not telling anyone how her ex-husband had died, but she had. The shock he’d experienced at the second home was anaphylaxis shock, the type that is experienced after coming into contact with a known and powerful allergen.
“Technically, he wasn’t allergic to cats. Just their dander. After that, it was just the usual: dust, cut grass, pollen, but nothing like his reaction to cat dander.”
“What medications should he have had with him?” I had the answer I wanted and just needed the details to make the case complete.
“Benadryl, a few others, and an Epi-pe
n in case there was any prolonged exposure.”
“Those weren’t found at the scene. So who knew about his allergies? Was it common knowledge?” I thought of all the interviews I’d done, and nobody had mentioned it. Either they had all forgotten it, not thought it important or had just not known. Now that I knew, things were falling into place quickly.
“He was secretive about it as he was with most things. I knew; his parents knew. My father knew, but that was about it. Certainly none of his casual acquaintances knew about it. Hejust avoided cats at all costs. Since he was a workaholic, he just kept his home and his workplace clean, and he didn’t have any noticeable problems.”
The lawyer intervened. “Is that sufficient for your purposes? Do you have the information that you need?”
Mrs. Miller looked to him first and then to me. “When will the charges be dropped? I want to go back to my life.”
“I’m not sure, but I’m going to talk to the police today. We’ll see what happens.” I excused myself and headed out to the sunshine. I had explanations for the cat at the house now.
I called Green as I walked down the street to my car. I’d been so paranoid that I’d parked on the street in full view of everyone. Now that I had the details of the crime, I urgently wanted to share them with others so that there would be no reason to make me a victim like during the last case.
Green answered on the second ring.“This better be good,” she said without introduction. The effect was vaguely unnerving.
“It is. Care to meet me for coffee?”
“Is this a date or do you have information for me?” I could detect the slightest bit of sarcasm in her voice.
“Not a date, and it depends. Do you have anything back from the coroner’s office yet?”
“You know that I don’t. ”
“Meet me for coffee and I’ll tell you everything.” I gave her directions to the coffeehouse that I could see from where I stood downtown. I went in and ordered a decaf latte for me. I’d had enough excitement to last me for a long time.
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