“Maybe, if Claire knew, but a client would explain ‘the friend,’ Tiffany said was with at the time of the murder,” Ed said.
“That could have been what she was hiding, but it could also be that Claire wanted that job, and there could have been a morals clause or something like that.”
******
It took a few hours for Muriel to come to her client’s aid, but by the time the detectives joined them, she had the situation well in hand.
“Here is the contact information for the friend that was with my client on the night of the murder.”
“Judge Martin Anthony,” Ed said without further comment.
“He and Tiffany have been friends for years, since his wife’s death. I just spoke to him, and he’ll be quite happy to confirm that Tiffany was with him on the night of Claire Spencer’s death.”
“Was Claire blackmailing you?” Ed asked Tiffany.
“Oh, I’m sorry, I guess I wasn’t clear. My client is not answering any more questions. She did not murder Claire Spencer, and unless you’re charging her, we’re leaving.”
“We could charge her,” Ed said, obviously intimating that a charge of prostitution would not be advantageous for Tiffany’s career.
“Go right ahead,” Muriel said looking him straight in the eye.
“You can go,” Ed said.
“Scared of her?” Paul chuckled after Muriel left.
“No. I actually admire her. We just don’t need to take her on, yet. I do think Claire knew about Tiffany, but I’m not sure that Tiffany killed her. We’ll have to talk to the judge.”
“You admire the lawyer who got Whitfield off?”
“No. I admire anyone who’s expert in their field, that’s all. With her, I guess it’s more of a grudging respect.”
******
A familiar and welcome visitor to Faith’s condo was about to arrive. Faith heard her elevator being called to the first floor, and a few moments later the door opened.
Faith walked over to greet her closest friend, and said, “I’ve really missed you,” as she gave Beth Harris a massive hug.
“Don’t be dramatic, I’ve only been gone a week.”
“I know, but it’s been a very eventful week.”
“That seems to be all we have lately,” Beth said.
“I know,” Faith said, “I was really hoping to get back to normal.”
“Normal?”
“I know, I went from being kidnapped by a psycho to battling the forces of evil. But before that, things were normal.”
“Normalish. Anyway, catch me up,” Beth said.
“Well, for one thing, I had a vision of a dead woman that I don’t know but who turned out to be one of Ed’s cases. You think that now I’m going to get visions on all his cases?”
“I doubt it, but this is all new territory,” Beth said.
“Speaking of new territory. Communed with the Divine again.”
“Of course you did, and?” Beth asked.
“He wasn’t giving up any information, just said he’d show me what he showed me.”
“That’s annoying,” Beth said.
“I thought so, too.”
Beth burst out laughing.
“I know, I could be being just a touch arrogant. I mean, he is God after all. And I don’t think that he was all that amused with my attitude.”
Beth, still laughing said, “No kidding, maybe you’d better tread more lightly.”
“That’s just not me.”
“You might need to adjust. So, how’s Ed coming with his case, maybe that’ll give you some clue about your vision,” Beth said.
“Not so far. All I know is that she’s an actress working at the Haverland and that they found her dead on the stage.”
“Anybody that I’ve heard of?” Beth asked.
“Probably not, I’d never heard of her. Her name was Claire Spencer.”
Beth’s eyes widened.
“What?”
“We met her last summer at Comic-Con,” Beth said.
“We did?”
“Well, I did. You were just introduced and went off to talk to the director of your movie. I stayed behind and hung out with her for a while. She was a finalist for a new sci-fi TV show. She was all right; one of those people who kept looking over your shoulder for someone more important to talk to. Kind of annoying, that’s why I remember her,” Beth said.
“You think that’s the link?”
“No, not unless the criteria is random contact,” Beth said.
“Still, you met her, and it’s Ed’s case. Maybe that’s enough.”
“If that’s all it takes, you’ll be having visions all over the place. Have you had any more?” Beth asked.
“No, so I suspect your right, there’s something I’m missing. Why don’t you call Ed, though, and let him know that you met her? Maybe she said something to you that would be helpful.”
“I can’t imagine what that would be, but I’ll call him tonight.”
******
It was seven p.m., work at Finley’s was still in high gear, and Finn Bell was overseeing it all with his usual over the top persona.
Standing by the bar, he watched as the different trades clashed over territory. With his opening only days away, there was no time for dissension or, for that matter, anything that would put his timetable in jeopardy. With one leap, Finn jumped atop the bar and called for all work to stop. When a few of the tradesmen ignored his order, Finn’s booming voice, amplified by the empty room and cathedral ceiling, yelled out, “When I say mother fucking stop working, I mean mother fucking stop.” He was used to complete obedience from his staff and contractors and would abide nothing less. The errant crews, duly chastened, stood silent and waited for him to speak. “The furniture is being delivered at eight a.m. tomorrow, and if we have to work all night, we’re going to be ready. I want all of the lead workers in my office right now.”
He jumped down and headed toward his office, with the lead painter, plumber, electrician, and carpenter dutifully following behind.
“I can’t finish painting until he’s done,” the painter said pointing at the electrician.”
Not waiting for, or wanting, the electrician to respond, Finn said. “Yes, you can. Just follow along behind him.”
“That’s not how it’s done,” the painter said flatly.
“That’s how it’s going to be done tonight.”
The painter was about to respond, but Finn stood, moved closer, and towering over him asked, “Are we going to have a fucking problem?” Once again, not allowing a response, Finn turned to the plumber and asked, “And how are you doing?”
“Done. Come do a walkthrough and see. The kitchen’s in great shape, and the bathrooms are – well, something to see.”
“Good man,” Finn said and pulled a fully stuffed envelope out of his desk drawer.
“You paying in cash?” the plumber asked. “No. Bill me for the work as we agreed. This is a bonus for you and your crew. But first, I’ll have a look. You two wait here.”
Finn took a tour, gave everything a quick test, and pleased with what he found, distributed the generous bonuses and returned to his office.
“Now, if you want the same, make it happen.”
The men who had surreptitiously observed Finn’s generosity, shook their heads in agreement, and, as they walked away, he heard them planning their work.
Before he got up to return to the action, there was a knock at his door. He knew immediately that it was one of his own and, not sensing any danger, got up to greet them. As the door opened, it revealed one of the most beautiful women he’d ever seen.
“Finn Bell,” he said as he extended his hand.
“Yes, you are,” the woman said with a sultry smile. “I’m Olivia Abernethy from the Boston Standard. I was hoping for an interview.”
“Who let you in here?”
“I have my ways.”
In fact, Olivia had been there for some time, and while Finn ha
d sensed a Buidseach in the area, he just hadn’t had time to search them out.
“I’m sure you do, but I just don’t have time. I could probably do it tomorrow afternoon.”
“Can I hang around for a while?” Olivia asked.
“Sure, just stay out of the way. I’ve got to get this place ready for setup in the morning.”
They walked out together, Olivia sat on a bar stool and asked if she could observe from there. Finn agreed and proceeded to give an orientation to his newly hired bar and wait staff. After he sent them on their way, he came back to the bar and Olivia said, “You know that language could get you in real trouble these days.”
“I’m not worried. I hire only the best, pay them very well and have precious little turnover.”
“So I hear, but these days there’s always someone waiting to be aggrieved. Besides which, it’s kind of tacky.”
“I thought you wanted an interview?” Finn said.
“Are you that thin-skinned?” Olivia asked.
“No, but I could live without the critique.”
“Oh, I’ll be critiquing you all right,” Olivia said, as she got up to leave.
“Hold on,” Finn said with quiet confidence and pulled a bottle of wine out from under the bar. “Care to try this? It’ll give you a small taste of what to expect on Friday.
She flashed her large blue eyes at him and came back to the bar.
As Finn poured the rare vintage, he quietly asked, “Did you know that we were from the same clan?”
Clan, in this case, being a euphemism for Buidseach.
“I did. You were there the night I visited Bell’s.
Finn looked at her quizzically, as he would have sensed her, and he most certainly would have remembered her.
“I was cloaked.”
“Why?”
“I often do it when I travel. You never know who you’ll run into. I understand there was some serious trouble with An Dubh over there, just last summer.”
Finn nodded.
“Were you there?” she asked.
“I live in London, so I was aware of what was going on,” Finn said.
She was correct in that Buidseach had to be careful about being discovered, even with their own kind, and he wasn’t about to let her know that he’d been in the thick of the battle. In fact, he hoped that she honestly didn’t know that, for the first time, he’d revealed himself to other Buidseach as a dia. He firmly, and rightly, believed the fewer people who knew about that, the better.
“You think that they got them all?”
“Of course not, but they definitely thinned the ranks.”
He still didn’t sense any danger, but Finn would remain cautious.
“You like the wine?”
“I’d say it’s the best I’ve ever had.”
Finn didn’t bother to tell her that it had cost him a thousand dollars a bottle, or how old it was, he just smiled.
The newly installed pendant lamps glowed above the bar, and Olivia’s blond shoulder length hear gleamed under them. It was parted on the side with a somewhat nineteen forties style finger wave.
Finn was taken with her beauty, but this was not love at first sight for either of them. He didn’t like her criticism, and she didn’t like his coarseness. Finn, however, did want a good review, so he kept his displeasure to himself and decided to turn on the charm.
His laptop was sitting on the bar where he’d been working earlier. Pulling it over to where he was seated, Finn opened it, read down the guest list for opening night, and said, “Oh, there you are? Just one ticket?”
“That’s all your manager would give me.”
A look of extreme displeasure came across his face. The Standard was Boston’s premier newspaper, and he wanted to do nothing less than dazzle their critic.
“It’s not a problem,” Olivia said. “I’m coming with the critic from The Review.”
“Are you sure that you don’t want to bring someone?”
“Well, I wouldn’t mind coming with a friend, but I’d still like to sit with Ronald Pierce from The Review. We do a lot of these events together.”
“Done.”
Olivia thanked him, shook his hand and walked toward the door. His eyes followed as she walked out. Just before she left, Olivia turned back and catching his eye, smiled. She had caught him checking her out, and they both knew it.
She looked to be in her mid-twenties, but, of course, with Buidseach, one could never really tell age. They lived to about two hundred and fifty and, as such, aged very slowly.
With Olivia out of sight, and for that matter, out of his hair, Finn turned his attention to finding his manager.
“Sanchez, why in hell would you only give the critic from The Boston Standard one fucking ticket?”
“You had a huge guest list, and I didn’t want to run out of space.”
“You should have asked me.”
“She seemed perfectly happy to sit with Ronald Peirce, the critic from The Review.”
“Call him in the morning and offer him another ticket, as well. And every other legitimate critic.”
“We won’t have room for everybody.”
“After you talk to them, give me a count, and I’ll deal with it.”
Sanchez agreed, and then said, “Don’t be fooled by her beauty, Olivia Abernethy is a bitch.”
“Tough critic?”
“No. She’s okay on that, but I knew somebody who worked at the Standard, and she’s a snob. Never socializes with anyone. Thinks she’s too good, I guess.”
Finn understood her need not to get too close to people. He, himself, kept his distance from all but his family. Even though Finn didn’t know Olivia, he actually wanted to say something supportive but didn’t have a chance because his phone rang.
“Padraig,” Finn said not needing to look at the caller ID.
“You in some trouble?” Padraig Ferguson asked his son.
“No. Something going on, but I think it’s to do with Faith. She’s sensing something – I did just meet a woman named Olivia Abernethy. She’s one of us. You ever heard of her?”
“I don’t know her, but something is up. It’s a good thing I’m coming over.”
“I want you here for the opening, but is the problem here in Boston, or on Unst.”
“I don’t know, but I’m not sensing another apocalypse, just some danger. I’ll stay with you and Faith.”
“She only has two bedrooms.”
“You can take the couch.”
“I’m six feet five, and I need my rest!”
“So make the couch longer,” Padraig said.
“I don’t want to. I want my bedroom.”
Padraig laughed, and said, “Just kidding, I’m staying with Elspeth.”
“Oh, good,” Finn said and ending the call, sat contemplating Olivia.
What, he wondered, could be going on, and was Olivia involved in any way?
Chapter Five
Looking over their evidence board, Paul said, “We haven’t interviewed all the cast or crew.”
“Who’ve we missed?” Ed asked walking over to the posted list actors and other employees.
“Looks like just two. Mary and Brett Robbins. Guess they’re married.”
“Right, Bella said that they weren’t here at the time of the murder,” Ed said.
“No, but, still, you never know. And, there’s Bella’s replacement. We should talk to her, too.”
“We won’t get anything from them,” Ed said.
“We won’t if we don’t talk to them. According to the schedule Ron Gould gave me there’s a rehearsal this morning. Let’s go over and see if we can finish up,” Paul said.
******
Arriving at the theatre, the detectives walked in the front door and were met by a decidedly cheery young woman.
“Morning,” she said with a big smile, as the two men walked up to her.
“Flashing their badges, the detectives introduced themselves. Susan Kadavy did th
e same, explaining that she’d just joined the cast to replace Bella Moore, who was now the lead.
“Did you know anyone in the company before joining it?” Ed asked.
“Oh, sure,” she said. “Bella and I are roommates. She recommended me. And I met the rest of the cast at a party a few weeks ago.”
“Got a minute for us?” Ed asked.
Susan beamed at him, and brushing her hair back, said, “Of course.”
The detectives walked backstage and were pleased to see that their ‘interview room’ was available. They went in and sat down, with Susan following behind them.
“How’s the investigation going?” Susan asked.
“Early days,” Ed said.
“Well, I’m happy to have this job, but I can’t say that I’m not a little scared. My mother made me promise never to leave alone after rehearsal.”
“Opening night’s on Friday?” Ed asked
“It is. I’ve got a lot to catch up on, but my part’s not too big, so it’s doable.”
“You mentioned a party. Where was it?” Ed asked.
“It was at our apartment, so, even though it was a cast party, I was there.”
“Did you talk to Claire Spencer?”
“Yes, she and Devin. I was even there for the fireworks.”
“Fireworks?” Ed asked.
“Oh,” she said, kind of blushing. “Thought you’d know about that.”
Ed shook his head.
Devin dumped her right then and there, and she spiked a fit. I couldn’t believe he’d do that at a party, but Bella said she thought it was to avoid a scene. Well, it didn’t work. Claire screamed every known obscenity at him. Although,” she said with a little laugh, “everything sounds a little better with a British accent.”
“Did he say why he was breaking up with her.”
“No. I didn’t really hear anything he said to her. What I heard was her reaction, and she just said that he used her. He laughed at that and walked out, cool as a cucumber. Then the party started up again. Claire left shortly after. It was sad that nobody tried to comfort her, but I got the feeling that they were afraid to approach her. I wanted to, but Bella told me that Claire would not appreciate my concern, so I didn’t. I still feel bad about that. I don’t like to see anyone on their own when they’re that upset.”
The Power of Faith: Science Fiction Faith Ferguson Series Book 3 Page 7
