“And when will you be done and out of here?” Grubbs pressed. “When can we start rebuilding our summer, what’s left of it?”
“We will try to finish up our interviews in the next few days. The investigation will continue until we find the killer.”
14
Ray walked Richard Grubbs to the door and then returned to his notes, scanning the contents and making a few additions. While Grubbs’ story was completely plausible, he had the knowledge and easy access to commit the murder. If Grubbs was the perpetrator, Ray wondered where he would have stashed the weapon.
Ray’s consideration of Grubbs as a suspect was interrupted by a gentle rapping at the door. He stood and greeted David Johnson, the lighting technician. Once Johnson was seated across from him, Ray studied his face. He guessed Johnson to be about Grubbs’ age, late 60s or early 70s. He turned on the recorder and read Johnson the boilerplate.
“Have you been a colony resident long?” Ray asked.
“There are pictures of me in diapers here. Born in January, I would have been six months old that first summer.”
“And you’ve been a summer resident ever since?”
“More or less. During college I had jobs downstate, and the summer I graduated I did the grand tour of Europe. Pretty common back then. And then during medical school and my residency, I didn’t make it here for more than a weekend or two most years. But after I was in practice and married, we bought a cottage near my parents and started spending much of the summer here. After the kids arrived, my wife would be here for the whole summer, and I’d come up most weekends and spend the month of August. Since I’ve retired, we’re here for the season.”
“Medicine. What was your specialty?”
“I was a general surgeon.”
“How long have you been involved with the summer play?”
“I started acting here as a kid. I was fascinated by this magical world of grease paint, costumes, lights…everything about it. I had a part in the children’s play every summer growing up. And I also liked the technical aspects, especially the lighting. And in the winter, downstate, I was involved with the community theatre and school plays. I really thought that’s what I’d do with my life.”
“Tell me about last night. Take your time. Give me a chronology of what happened,” coached Ray.
Johnson rubbed his stubble-covered chin, then looked at Ray. “Give me a moment, I need to collect my thoughts.” He peered over Ray’s shoulder—his head cocked to the right—toward the back of the building. Then he straightened and looked directly at Ray. “I was at the party at Verity’s and saw you there. I had no idea who you were, but outsiders are rare at these events. After the wife and I got through the buffet, I sort of wolfed my food and got over to the Assembly Hall. This is old equipment. I always want to check things before anyone else is around. That gives me the time to bring out a ladder and replace a bulb or do any other wiring change without having to hurry or have people in my way. So that’s what I did. Then I went into the green room and chatted with people until about ten minutes before the performance when I climbed back up to the light box. Not much to do up there in this play. After the first scene ends, I have to adjust the lighting on the exterior of the set. The first scene takes place at mid-day. The second scene takes place the next day in the early evening. I was in the process of making the changes when we had that incredible lightning and thunder. Everything went black. I held tight for a bit, then I climbed down and headed out to the electrical services out back.”
“Let me stop you for a bit. From your position in the…?”
“Light box.”
“What can you see? Was there anyone onstage when the lights went out?”
“With this set, I can pretty much see everything onstage. I can also see what’s happening on the off-stage wing on my side. The other side is hidden by the set. So I have to separate what I know about who needed to be there with what I can remember. The properties person would have come through to make sure everything was in place, and I think I saw her. And then there was Malcolm coming through, being attended to by Florence Carlotta, our makeup person. Malcolm had a ghastly wound on his forehead. It was huge, like something you’d see at a Halloween party. I couldn’t quite figure out what was going on.”
“I’m not following,” said Ray.
“In this scene, Malcolm plays—not really plays, he’s just a prop—a body. We could have stuffed a suit and it would have worked as well. The character just fills a chair. I couldn’t figure out why he had that elaborate makeup on.”
“Then what?”
“They went over to the table where Protheroe’s body is found sprawled across the Vicar’s desk at the beginning of the scene. Malcolm sat down and Florence helped position him. It seemed to me that they were going to a lot of trouble for nothing. When she left, he just stayed in that position, like he was taking a nap.”
“And no one else was onstage or in the wings on your side when the lights when out?”
“Correct, that’s my memory.”
“Okay, the lights go out, then what do you do?”
“Like I was saying before, I waited for a little bit to see if the power was going to come back on, then I killed the power to the dimmers, climbed down the ladder, and headed outside to the electrical panels.”
“What were you using for light?”
“I’ve got one of those headlamps with the six or eight little bulbs. I keep it there just for this kind of emergency. This is not the first time we’ve been in darkness, the problem is more common than it should be. We’ve been overloading the system for years.”
“Did you see anyone on your way out, and what door did you use?”
“Strange, I didn’t see a soul. Guess they were all in the green room. I went out the east stage door. The electrical panels are in a utility cabinet on the back wall of that side of the building. When I got there the cabinet doors were open. They should have been closed. And then I noticed some of the lights downstream from the Assembly Hall were coming back on, but we were still in darkness. So I started looking around and saw that someone had turned off the main disconnect for the building. I pushed it on and went back inside. I wanted to get up to the booth and get the lights on so we could start the next scene.”
“Did you see anyone on your way?”
“I saw Grubby. He was heading toward the stage area.”
“Did you talk to him?”
“Let me think. At that moment I was fairly agitated. It looked like a stupid act of vandalism had created a potentially dangerous situation. I may have said something. Obviously, that was not the time to discuss the matter. I climbed up to the booth and did a quick check of the lights and then noticed what was happening down on stage. I watched for a minute or so, and then started down. You arrived about that time.”
“What happened next?”
“I was herded into the green room and sat there and waited until you came to talk to us.”
“Tell me about the green room. What was happening there?”
“People were sitting in groups talking. When I walked in everyone was still in the dark,” he stopped briefly, “well, you know what I mean, in the dark as to what had happened. But I think they could tell something was very wrong. And then you came in and told us that Wudbine was dead. And when someone asked you if it was a stroke or heart attack, you didn’t equivocate. You said he was murdered.”
“And what happened when I left?”
“First there was stunned silence. Then I think people started thinking about what they should do, who would need support. Verity went to her daughter-in-law’s side, some other people as well. Then people seemed to cluster in small groups. There was some sobbing. Lots of hushed conversations. I think we were all bowled over by your announcement.”
“Did you see anyone out of place, anyone backstage or in the green room who shouldn’t have been there?”