“I’ve been wondering about that,” said Ray. “I can’t imagine that Malcolm Wudbine wouldn’t have noticed the nature of the character he was playing.”
“Yes, I’m sure he noticed. I kind of think he would relish that. Colonel Protheroe gets murdered during the course of play, but Malcolm gets to go to the cast party. And even though lots of people won’t be too sad to see his passing, no one would have wanted it to happen this way.”
“Well, Mr. Grubbs, someone obviously did. Do you have any idea who might have been angry enough to kill him?”
“That question kept running through my head when I was trying to sleep. First I thought about the people who had the longest history with him, especially his first wife. You’ve met Verity. You’ve talked with her on two occasions. Can you imagine her as a murderer?”
“No. But I know nothing of her relationship with her ex-husband. She was in the building at the time of the murder….”
“Yes, but you’d be wasting your time on her.”
“Let’s leave Verity for the moment. At the end of the first scene, you got up and left us and exited through the west entrance almost before anyone else was out of their seats. I can’t remember exactly what you said at that moment. I need to know where you went and what you saw. And where were you when the lights went off? Please, step by step, from the time you left us until you were beckoning me to follow you backstage. Take your time.”
“There is some history here. I sort of freak out during thunderstorms. We did have someone killed by lightning here when I was eight or ten. The victim was a teenager, not that much older than me. Like I said, lightening unhinges me a little bit. And I was concerned about the electrical system in the building, especially with all the stage lights on. I needed to make sure that everything was okay, that’s what I do around here. So I went out through that nearest exit and then back into the building through the nearest stage door. As soon as I got into the hallway there was that huge crash, the flash of lightening followed instantly by the thunder. The building shook. The lights flickered and went out. I stood and waited for a few moments, you know how the power goes out and then comes back on. When it didn’t, I used my phone to light the way. I popped into the green room and people were using their phones.
“Everyone in the green room seemed to be chatting away, not bothered by the dark. They were joking and laughing. I, of course, was worried about what would happen if the power was not quickly restored. How long should we wait for clearing the auditorium? When would we reschedule to play? Would some of the actors be leaving at the end of the weekend for work or other commitments? That’s what was running through my head.
“Sterling was in the green room near the door. By the light of our phones we discussed our options if this turned out to be a long-term blackout. When the lights went back on David Johnson, he’s our lighting guy, comes in from outside by the east stage door soaking wet. He’s looking very upset. I ask him if everything’s okay. He says we need to talk after the show. He heads off toward his lighting loft. Sterling and I follow him through the east door into the backstage area. We’re discussing if the break should be extended a few more minutes. The stage manager, Tony Grattan, was right behind us, intending to check the set. I don’t know quite who noticed Malcolm first. His head was down on the desk, not moving, just like he was supposed to be at the opening of the second scene. I went over to him and said something, but he didn’t move. I put my hand on his shoulder to shake him. Then I saw the blood. For a few seconds I dismissed it as makeup. Then it struck me. This guy is dead. I told Tony and David to keep everyone away. That’s when I ran to get you.”
Ray looked down at the notes he’d been making on a legal pad. Finishing a sentence, he looked back up at Grubbs. “So once you went backstage, you only encountered three people. First you saw Sterling Shevlin.”
“That’s right.”
“Where was he?”
“Like I said, he was in the green room. He was standing just inside the door that opens to the main hall.”
“You’re sure of that.”
“Absolutely.”
“And then the lights came back on. You started down the hallway going to the stage area. At that point you were with the director, Sterling Shevlin, and the stage manager, Tony Grattan.”
“Correct.”
“And that’s when you encountered…?”
“David Johnson.”
“And he was coming from…?”
“The outside, the east stage door. ”
“And he said he had to talk to you after the performance.”
“Something to that effect.”
“What was that about? Have you had a chance to talk to him?”
“No, not yet. But I assume he wanted to talk about electrical problems and what needs to be done. We have this conversation every year. Things are not up to modern standards. And when the stage lights are on, we’re just about at capacity. We’ve blown the main fuses even without an electrical storm.” Grubbs paused briefly, then he explained, “The fuse boxes, breaker panels, and shut offs are on the exterior of the building. They’re in a protected enclosure. I assume that he’d gone out there to see what had happened.”
“Besides Malcolm, who else would have been onstage during the break?”
“I’m not sure. Maybe some crew members.”
“I notice that the emergency egress lights didn’t come on when the power failed,” said Ray.
Richard Grubbs squirmed in his chair. “Yes, that’s a problem. One of the units was shorting out and had to be disconnected. I thought I could buy one unit, but the owner of the fire safety company we contract with counseled against that, saying that given the age of the system all the units should be replaced. I gave him the go ahead. They will be installed early this week.”
Ray looked at Grubbs for a long moment.
“Yes, I know, Sheriff. I’m sure I broke the law or violated some building code. The units had been in place thirty or forty years. I can’t remember a single instance when they were ever needed. It never occurred to me…well in the end they weren’t needed…and…”
“Did anyone else know about this problem?”
“No…well…maybe…yes. I told the girls, the ushers, that there was a problem. I gave them each a new flashlight just in case.”
“When did you do that?”
“Friday. I found out about the problem on Thursday. Friday morning I went down to the hardware for the flashlights.”
“How secure is the Assembly Hall when it’s not in use?”
“During the summer it’s unlocked. That’s the way it has always been, and that’s true of most of the colony buildings. People come and go. At the end of the season we get everything secured to guard against possible vandalism during the winter.”
“So if someone wanted to come in and tamper with something…?”
“The building is open 24-7 in June, July, and August. There are constantly things going on. We have our nondenominational worship services, our summer chorus, children’s theater, band concerts, chamber music, rehearsals of all kinds, and the summer play. There are always people around.”
“How about 3:00 A.M.?”
“Well, not then, but….”
“And you have no security personnel, no one walking or driving around?”
“There’s never been a need.” Grubbs sagged in his chair. “What’s going to happen now?”
Ray looked across the table. “We will be figuring that out as we go along. The first step is to completely process the crime scene.”
“When can we get in there? The Assembly Hall is the center of much of what happens here.”
“I don’t know how to answer your question. It will take us a while to finish up. We are still looking for the murder weapon. I think you can probably have the building on Wednesday or Thursday, perhaps a day or two later.”