The chair creaked as Stone leaned back in it. “Damn, that was hardly enough time for sleeping.”
Roberts answered, “I can agree with you there. So now, we have two murder cases.”
“Yeah, with one of them getting a bit cold. Then there’s the murder out in Stony Plain.”
“That’s not our case.”
“True, but we can’t ignore that it may be related to ours.”
“I don’t see how they can be connected.” She paused. “Are you looking for an excuse to contact her?”
“This is strictly business. And no, there isn’t any romantic interest here.”
“Okay.” She stared at him. “So to clarify, you don’t find her attractive?”
“Irreverent.” He took a sip of his coffee. “Now, let’s get back to work or talk about your personal life.”
Anya grunted. “That would be a short conversation.” She watched as he punched buttons on his telephone. He pivoted his chair away from his desk, making it harder for her to hear him or see his facial expression. A few minutes later, he hung up.
“The RCMP have a bit more information on the killer.”
Anya clicked her pen a few times. “Well?”
Stone smirked. “Now you find the murder in Stony Plain interesting. The RCMP forensics examined the initial blows on the head of the victim and determined the killer was about the same height or shorter.”
“Travis Moore was five-nine. If the killer was under that height...”
“It means the killer could also be a woman.”
“True. Now how does that relate to our murder case? I’m referring to Jacob Carlton.”
“I don’t know yet. But there was a red bike parked in the neighbourhood of where Moore was murdered, and a bike was heard on the night of Carlton’s murder. Maybe it was the same bike.”
“Even if it was, that doesn’t mean the bike rider was the killer.”
“If it was the same bike, that’s too much of a coincidence. Same bike at two murder scenes? Come on, it had to be the killer.”
“I’m not convinced one bit.”
“I see a connection. I’m not going to ignore these clues.”
“Whatever. What about our latest murder? Where do we start with that? Interview the actors?”
“We’ll get to them. I thought we should talk to the director and writer of the play, Peter McNab. I would like to know if he has any insight on the actors of the play or if there was a conflict between any of them.”
“All right, I’ll find out where and when he’s available.”
Stone peered inside Peter McNab’s office as he knocked on the doorframe. Cups, piles of paper, and books competed for space on a desk.
McNab looked up from behind his desk. “Are you the detectives?”
Stone nodded and introduced Roberts and himself. He stepped inside the office and noticed a file folder full of paper on one of the two chairs facing the desk.
McNab stood and waved at the chair with the file folder on it. “Please sit down. Just put the file on the desk.” He looked at his desk. “The floor would be fine.”
Stone studied the file folder. Black ink on the front proclaimed it to be a class assignment from last year. He placed it on the floor, trying to ensure the contents inside didn’t spill out on the floor.
“We’re investigating the death of Paul Church. Since you are the director of the play he was in, are you aware of any conflicts he was having with the rest of the cast?”
“Well, I certainly don’t wish to speak ill of the dead, but Paul did cause a problem that I had to address. He had romantic notions about another cast member, Tanya Conner. At the time, she was going out with Mitch Donnelly, another of our cast members.”
Roberts asked, “Did Church and Donnelly get into a confrontation?”
“Yes, at the end of a rehearsal. It was more of an argument between Tanya and Mitch, but it was Paul who was in the centre of it.”
“What is Donnelly like? Does he have a temper?”
“Yes, I suppose he does. He’s rather moody and normally keeps to himself. However, he does have a rough edge to his personality and does allow his anger to come through.”
“Who else may have a grudge against Church?” Stone inquired.
“None that I’m aware of. Of course, being the director and writer of the play, I’m not privy to all the interactions of the actors.”
“How about yourself? Do you have any personal feelings about him?”
McNab hesitated before answering. “I found him a pleasant young man in the classroom but I was frustrated at his lack of acting ability when he performed on stage.” He interlocked his fingers and rested them on his stomach. McNab leaned back in his chair and spoke in a lecture voice. “Those outside the live arts often don’t appreciate the work, the study, and training it takes to be an actor. It is one thing to watch a play and watch an actor repeat rehearsed lines but another for them to put life into those words. Our young actor, Paul, was a good speaker in the classroom, and he certainly had the looks of a male lead. Unfortunately, onstage, those qualities vanished. What we were left with was an uninspiring, monotone repetition of the script.”
“I see.” Stone watched McNab’s face as he asked his next question. “Could his problem be with the play itself, such as a poor script?”
“No! It was a great play, and if I do say so myself, superbly written. The play’s failure to garnish more positive reviews lay solely on Paul and the rest of the cast.”
Stone closed his notebook. “I suppose it was difficult to have your play end with the loss of Paul Church. I understand the last performance garnered a lot of positive reviews.”
“Yes, thank you for that observation.” He slowly breathed out. “However, we may be able to revive the play and fulfill the remaining dates.”
“Really? Did Church only have a minor role in the play?”
“No, actually, he had a major role and played two characters.”
“Won’t that be difficult to replace?”
“Actually, I have a replacement that should be excellent in the role. I do have to discuss this with the rest of the cast. However, as the old saying goes, the show must go on.”
Stone stood. “Honestly, I didn’t expect the play to show again with the death of a cast member.”
“As I said, I need to talk to the others first but it’s important we do what we have prepared for.”
Roberts asked as she returned to the car, “Can you believe McNab believes it’s okay to just resume the play after one of the actors is murdered? That seems a bit cold to me.”
“I guess he has his priorities. I’m just surprised he already has a replacement in mind. Did you see how he reacted when I suggested the play may have been the reason for the weak acting?”
“Yes, he took the criticism rather harshly. Do you think he may have blamed Church for the poor reviews and decided to get rid of him?”
“It crossed my mind. If he does reopen the play, can you imagine the response? People would flock to see a play where the previous leading man was actually murdered. Would those who review plays dare give it a poor review with the rest of the cast bravely carrying on?”
“It could make McNab rather famous.” Stone frowned. “He strikes me as man who believes the end justifies the means. How far would he go to ensure the success of his play?”
“Murder might not be too far-fetched. Where to next? I vote for Church’s girlfriend, Tanya Conner.”
“Your vote carries the day.”
Conner’s apartment was located north of the Grant McEwan campus, in a building that held three hundred units stacked in five stories. Stone and Roberts walked down a long hallway, reaching the apartment door. He barely finished knocking when the door opened, revealing a room of mismatched furniture, assorted magazines, papers, and clothing.
“Ms. Conner, may we come in? We would like to ask you a few questions.”
Conner nodded, gesturing them to enter. “Sorry, the place is a bit of a mess.” Her face looked puffy and her eyes had a red tinge to them.
Stone sat on a love seat after removing a T-shirt from the cushion. Roberts joined him on the practical, yet uncomfortable furniture. Between them and a non-matching armchair, a coffee table held two tumblers. Two diet cola cans accompanied the nearly empty glasses.
“Can I get you anything? I can make coffee or tea.” Conner hesitated from sitting in the armchair.
Stone looked at the tumblers. “We’ll have whatever you’re having.” After Conner disappeared into the kitchen, Stone whispered, “It appears she’s been drinking and just had a crying spell. I wonder who the friend was that was here.”
Conner returned with a milk carton, spoons, and a sugar bowl, placing them on the coffee table. She went back to the kitchen, bringing three mismatched mugs. She sat in the armchair. “Sorry, I’m really out of sorts. I can’t believe Paul is dead.”
Roberts gave a short smile. “We know this is difficult for you, but we need to ask a few questions.” She pointed at the tumblers. “You had a friend over?”
“Yes.” She wiped away a tear. “I don’t normally drink this early, but my friend suggested I have a couple of drinks and let it all out. So I did and I think it helped.”
“Who was your friend? Another actor?”
Conner shook her head. “No, her name is Janet. I’ve known her a long time and she recently came back from working in New Zealand.”
“Did Paul have any enemies, those who didn’t like him? Specifically, those involved in the play.”
“Yes, there were a couple of actors who didn’t like him. And Peter, the director, was angry with him.”
“Why was he angry with him?”
“It wasn’t fair how he blamed Paul for some of the comments and reviews about the play. Paul didn’t have any acting experience before, yet Peter picked him as the leading man with two roles. Paul tried his best but wasn’t used to performing in front of a crowd. He had difficulty relaxing and becoming the character in the play. Peter put him in a very difficult position and then berated him for not being a better actor. Anyway, on the last night we found out he may have been planning to replace Paul and perhaps myself.”
“How so?”
“Tyler, that is Tyler Burgess, spotted another male actor standing with Peter as we were setting up on the last night. Apparently, this other actor is quite good and had performed in the Fringe last year.”
“And you would be replaced as well?”
“We also saw Dana Sharpe there. She initially had a part in the play but then pulled out for personal reasons.”
“So why do you think you would be replaced?”
“If Peter took Paul out of the play, I would quit. I think Peter knew that, so he might have contacted Dana to take over my role.”
“So, Dana was part of the acting troupe as well. How did she feel about Paul?”
“I don’t know. Dana is weird, hard to read what she’s thinking. In class, she would sometimes wear a short skirt and a bright top, be flamboyant and drawing attention to herself. She would flirt, laugh, and carry on as if she was the most popular girl in school. Then a couple of days later, she’d wear a baggy sweater and loose jeans, and talk to no one.”
“You mentioned a couple of actors who may not like Paul.”
Conner looked down at the coffee table. “Yeah, partly my fault. I was going out with Mitch. Then I met Paul, and we were playing opposites in the play and that involved touching and kissing. I fell for Paul and told Mitch it was over.”
“I assume that meant Mitch was jealous and angry with Paul, along with you.”
Conner nodded. “There was some shouting and swearing.”
“What’s Mitch like? Does he have a temper?”
Conner leaned back in the armchair and stared at the ceiling before returning her gaze to Roberts. “You may wonder why I was going out with Mitch after I tell you this.” She frowned. “Mitch is often moody, can be insulting with his comments, and doesn’t care what others think of him. He always dresses casual.”
Roberts raised her eyebrows. “Yet, you went out with him.”
Conner shrugged. “I was at a low point, I had just broken up with... Well, I was alone. I met Mitch in a bar. He was charming for a change and offered to give me a ride on his bike. One thing led to another. He’s the reason I took the live theatre course. I thought it would be cool to be in the same class as him. I think that helped kill the romance. I spent too much time with him and saw what a jerk he could be. Even before I met Paul, the bad-boy attitude had run its course.”
“Anyone else that may have not liked Paul?”
“Jessica. When Paul first started taking the course, Jessica went out with him on a couple of dates. I gather she was the one who asked him out initially. He decided to end it with her. He told me she was just too much into herself and decided to cut her loose before they got serious. I guess she never forgave him for dumping her. She’s really pretty and probably never had been rejected before.”
“What makes you think she still holds a grudge against him?”
“Just some things she would say, like Paul was supposed to reappear as a ghost, so as she was applying some white makeup on him, she said, ‘Now, you’re a dead man.’ She didn’t make it sound like she was joking.”
“All right, anything else you can think of that can help us find Paul’s killer?”
“No. I just can’t believe someone would kill him. He was a good man, getting his life together. It just isn’t right.”
Stone asked, “What do you mean getting his life together?”
“Paul said he had screwed up when he was living in Calgary. He moved to Edmonton to get a fresh start and I could see how he was changing over the last few weeks.”
“What happened in Calgary?”
“He was involved in a car accident. A little girl ran in front of his car and he couldn’t stop in time. It wasn’t his fault at all but he still felt horrible. He moved to Edmonton to get a fresh start.”
“Okay, that’s it for now.” Roberts passed over her card. “If you think of anything else, please call us. Even small details can help a lot.”
Conner nodded. “I never met his family, but if you talk to them, let them know he was really doing well here. I hope they’ll let me go to his funeral.”
“We’ll mentioned that to them.”
Roberts commented as they left the apartment building, “That helped to identify at least two actors as possible suspects. I also think we need to visit McNab again. It sounds like he wanted to eliminate Church from the play.”
“True, although he could just fire Church. Killing him is a bit excessive. One thing I found interesting is that Donnelly rides a bike. Bikes showed up in our other murder investigation, as well as the one in Stony Plain.”
“I don’t know if that really is something to connect the dots with.”
“The killer in Stony Plain, according to forensics, isn’t that tall. Donnelly is under six feet.”
“That’s still pushing it. But, okay, I’ll give that a small possibility. A very small possibility.”
Stone and Roberts managed to contact Donnelly via his mobile and arranged to meet him at Grant McEwan University. He spotted them at the main entrance, giving them a quick nod.
“Is there a place we can talk?” Stone asked. “Privately.”
Donnelly hooked a thumb down the hall. “There’re some classrooms down the hall.” He led the way to an empty classroom, acting disinterested.
Stone looked around the empty room after ensuring the door was closed. He went to the front and sat at the desk at the front. Donnelly leaned against one of the student desks, dropping three books on the surface.
Stone looked at Donnelly acting bored as he rested against the desk. He saw Roberts position herself at Donnelly’s side, one row of student desks away.
“You don’t seem to be too concerned about Paul’s death.”
Donnelly shrugged. “Why should I be? He was an asshole. He died. No big loss for me.”
“Well, one reason you should be concerned is that you’re a suspect.”
“Yeah, well, I didn’t kill him. He was poisoned, right?”
Stone nodded.
“Well, I would have beaten him to death.”
“Really? He was bigger than you.”
“I know how to fight. I’ll bet he hasn’t had a fight since playschool. I’d kick his ass easy.”
“That’s a lousy alibi. Because he wasn’t beaten to death, that means you didn’t do it? Sorry, that won’t let you off the hook.”
Donnelly crossed his arms, not speaking.
“You own a bike?”
“Yeah.”
“What type? Colour?”
“A Harley. It’s black.”
Roberts asked, “Come on, Mitch. Help us with this. You may not have liked Paul but he did have a family and friends who do care what happened. Also, the killer may have been targeting actors. Maybe you’re also on his, or her, list.”
Donnelly took a few seconds before responding. “Okay, look, I’m sorry Paul is dead. I was pissed off at him but more so at Tanya. I don’t have a clue who would kill Paul or why.”
Roberts looked at the books he had set on the desk. “You’re taking business?”
“Yeah, I figure a business degree will be good to have.”
“Why the theatre?”
“Just for the heck of it.”
“For the heck of it? You don’t strike me as the type who would enjoy live theatre.”
“I’m more complicated than I look. End of story.”
Stone stood. “Thanks for your time. If you happen to think of anything that will help us in the investigation, give us a call.”
“Yeah, sure.” He walked lazily out of the classroom.
After Donnelly left, Roberts asked Stone what he thought of him as a suspect.
“I dunno. He doesn’t strike me as a poison type.”
“True, but if he’s smart, maybe he would use poison to throw us off. It surprises me he likes acting onstage.”
“Well, as far as I can tell, all sorts of people enjoy acting. I don’t think being an asshole disqualifies him from having an interest in acting. Interesting about him having a bike. If it was red, I’d really get excited.”
“I still think the bike is a nonstarter in the investigation. Are we supposed to interview every person that has a red bike in hopes they may be a murderer?”
Stone remained silent for a few moments. “I guess you have a point. But since we don’t have much more to go on, I’m not giving up on it as a connection.”
“Okay, you focus on connections. I’ll focus on real clues. In the meantime, why don’t we interview Jessica Knowles? She apparently wasn’t that fond of our victim.”
Roberts made a phone call to Knowles as they sat in Stone’s vehicle. She answered her mobile but indicated she was busy taking classes and wouldn’t be able to meet with them until later.
“You do realize this is a murder investigation? Avoiding talking to us doesn’t put you in a good light.” Roberts used a speakerphone so Stone could listen in.
“Well, I didn’t do it. I have nothing to hide but I’m not missing any classes because he’s dead. I’ll give you my address and we can meet there at four.”
“All right. But, just to be clear, next time we want to talk to you, we’ll find out where your classes are and haul you out in front of everyone.”
There was a moment of silence and then she gave her address. “And just to be clear on my end, if you ever do that to embarrass me, my parents have very good lawyers available.” She ended the call.
Stone remarked, “Well, you struck a nerve.”
“Sounds like a girl that has her daddy wrapped around her finger.”
“We have some time to kill. I know of a good coffee shop close by.”
“I’m shocked. You know where there’s a good coffee shop? Will wonders never cease.”
The Iconoclast Coffee Roasters was located in the Brewery District, a dozen blocks west of the downtown core. The industrial setting inside the coffee shop was in harmony with the old brick building that used to house Molson Breweries, originally built in 1913.
Stone and Roberts sat, with Stone having his usual black coffee, while Roberts opted for a latte.
Roberts took a sip of her coffee and nodded her approval as her phone pinged, indicating a new message. She glanced at the screen and discreetly picked it up from the table to prevent Stone from seeing it. She quickly replied to the text message, considered the next text, and sent a returned message.
“What’s up? Anything to do with the case?”
“No, just a friend wanting to get together later.”
“A date with a new guy?”
“No such luck. Girlfriend.”
Stone’s mobile rang, saving Roberts from giving any more details from her messages with Cindy, Stone’s girlfriend. She listened to Stone give one word replies to the caller.
“Who was that?”
“That was from the friendly people at the forensics department. It turns out Paul Church did die of poisoning and it was likely consumed during the play.”
“So he was poisoned at the Waterdale Theatre.”
“Right, and here’s the kicker. It was fentanyl.”
“Fentanyl is added to all kinds of drugs. Church was pretty nervous acting in front of a crowd. Maybe he took something to help calm down and accidently overdosed.”
“So maybe it wasn’t a murder after all. Tomorrow morning, we need to make a visit to the Walterdale Theatre and see if we can find any signs of drug use.”
“Well, at least we can see part of the Fringe, with all that goes with it.”
“True, in the meantime, until we find out otherwise, let’s assume this is still a murder.”
Jessica Knowles’s condo was in one of the new towers in the downtown core, on the twelfth floor that gave a view of the new arena. The detectives were admitted to her apartment by an unsmiling Knowles. She was polite but made it obvious she wasn’t pleased with them.
She escorted them to the living room, furnished in white leather chairs, a coffee table made of lacquered wood, and carved wood African artifacts. She sat in a swivel chair and stared at them sitting on a two-person couch with a drink holder in the centre.
“Now, what can I do for you?”
Stone spoke. “You can start by telling us about your relationship with Paul Church.”
“We were classmates, and as you know, we both had parts in the play, Death of a Philanderer.”
“How did you feel about him?”
Knowles frowned. “I thought he was a bit of a fool. Quiet in class. Couldn’t act very well. Other than that, I didn’t really think about him much.”
“I understand you went out a couple of times but he broke up with you.”
Her jaw dropped slightly. “Oh, that.” She paused a moment. “I felt sorry for him. He was looking lonely, so I suggested we have a coffee or a drink together. I was just being friendly, trying to help him. So we met up a couple of times but he acted kind of funny. I was actually relieved when he said he didn’t want to go out with me again. I only went out with him to be nice. I thought it was a bit rude of him the way he ended it.”
“But you held a grudge after that, I understand.”
She shook her head. “No, I don’t waste my time with thoughts about guys like him.”
“So, you didn’t tell him—” Stone referred to his notebook “—‘Now, you look like a dead man,’ when you applied makeup to him?”
“Really? I made a joke. He was supposed to look like a ghost. I put white powder on his face and skin.”
“Okay, just bad timing for that joke, then?”
“Yeah, whatever. I’m sure neither the powder, nor the joke, caused his death.”
“Ms. Knowles, as the stage manager, you were responsible for the set up for the play. Can you tell us who may have had access to where the cups and glasses were kept?”
“Just about everyone in the play. We all mingled around the stage. If there was poison in one of the glasses, I suppose anyone could have done it. I didn’t pay any attention to them.”
“Okay, but you were the one who was responsible for ensuring the cups were in place at the beginning.”
Knowles’s eyes widened. “I didn’t put any poison in the cups.”
Stone nodded. “But perhaps you can see why you’re a person of interest.”
Knowles looked at Stone and Roberts. Her face blank of emotion.
“Ms. Knowles?”
“I didn’t have anything to do with any poison. You have to believe me.”
“We don’t have to believe anything you tell us but we’ll consider what you have told us. In the future, when we contact you for an interview, we expect better cooperation from you. Too busy taking classes doesn’t quite cut it in a murder investigation.”
“I understand. I’m sorry. If there’s anything I can do to help your investigation, I promise I’ll do it.”
“Anything?”
Knowles answered slowly, as if sensing a trap, “Yes.”
“Excellent. Tomorrow morning, we are going to visit the Walterdale Theatre. We would like you to join us and help us understand the positions of the actors and how the glassware was stored.”
“I can do that.”
“Good, let’s say we meet you at the theatre at nine.”
She sighed. “I’ll be there.”
Roberts and Stone exited the apartment, taking the elevator to the main floor.
“What do you think of her as a killer?” Roberts asked.
“She looked like a deer caught in the headlights when she realized her situation regarding the poison in the glasses. I tend to think she didn’t know how the poisoning was done but suddenly saw her lack of an alibi. Mind you, maybe she was just good at acting. But she was hardly in a position to refuse my request to be at the Walterdale.”
“There is that. What if she’s the killer?”
“Then I’m hoping she’ll say or do something to expose herself. As the killer, I mean.”
Roberts looked at her watch. “Time to call it a day?”
“Yeah, I think so. Tomorrow we can check out the Walterdale Theatre and interview a couple more actors.”
“Hi.” Cindy spotted Anya Roberts waiting in the Beer Revolution Pub at one of the high round tables. She sat on one of the chairs.
“It’s good to meet you.” Anya smiled, “Outside of the Craft Beer Market, that is.”
“Likewise. Look, I hope I didn’t come across as being weird in wanting to meet with you but Moss has talked a lot about you. I was kind of curious what type of woman could work with him so well. Moss is, as you know, hard to figure out.”
Anya looked up at one of the TV monitors located around the walls. The monitors showed which of the beers were currently on tap and their prices. “Yeah, he can be frustrating at times. A good man, but how his brain works is a bit of a mystery.”
The server came, gave a suggestion on the available draught, and took their order.
“Moss said you’re working on a murder that happened at the Fringe.”
“Yeah, one of the actors in a murder-mystery play, of all things. It appears his drink that was used during the play was poisoned. So, all the actors in the play are now suspects.”
“Really? Another of the actors poisoned him? That seems a little brazen.”
“I suppose so. But only the actors and maybe the director were around the stage before the play started. The audience didn’t enter the theatre until the actors were ready for the play to start, so it had to be someone involved in the play.”
“I love going to the Fringe and I’ve seen a lot of plays. I even had a part in a play a couple of years ago. But from past experience, I know sometimes you can get in through one of the side entrances.” She grinned. “If you flirt a bit with the security guard and tell him you’re part of the play, sometimes they’ll let you in. It helps if you have an actors card, which I did at that time.”
“You’re saying that perhaps the killer wasn’t one of the actors? The killer may have come through the back door?”
“It’s a possibility.”
“Thanks. I’ll have to look into that.” She took a drink of her ale. “Now, let’s talk about something other than police work.”
“How about men? Can we talk about them?”
“Oh yeah.”