Murder at the Opera - Margaret Truman [107]
They went around the table, each detective reporting.
“We’ve talked to every student in that opera school they run out of Takoma Park,” one said.
“Not for the first time,” said another. “We compared reports of the previous interviews with them with what they had to say this time around. Nothing new
“What about Christopher Warren?” Berry asked.
“Yeah, we talked to him again, too. Surly bastard.” He punched Willie in the arm and laughed. “He’s the one you coldcocked, huh?”
“Ran into my arm, that’s all
“Yeah, right
Another detective said, “There’s one student who doesn’t have an alibi
“Warren
“No, besides him.” He consulted his notes. “A Korean named Lester Suyang. He was alone all night, he says, like he said in previous interviews. Nothing there. He doesn’t strike me as the murdering kind
“What is ‘the murdering kind’?” Berry asked.
“You know what I mean
“A couple of the other students say Suyang didn’t like the deceased, that they had a few shouting matches
“That’s new,” Berry offered. “What’s he say about it?”
“He denies it, says he and the deceased were good friends
“He’s big, man,” another detective said, “must go two-fifty, two-sixty. Got a voice like a one-man gang. If he doesn’t make it as an opera singer, he can always become a sumo wrestler
“Even bigger than you, Willie,” one said. “But not as pretty
The discussion continued. Eventually, it came around to Charise Lee’s agents, Philip Melincamp and Zöe Baltsa.
“Willie and Sylvia have interviewed them a couple of times. Ray Pawkins—he’s working as a PI for the Opera company—says Melincamp and his partner have a shady reputation back in Toronto
“How shady?” someone asked.
“They run a smarmy operation, according to Ray. He says—”
The door opened and a uniformed officer working desk duty in the Detective Division entered. He handed Berry a piece of paper. “Thought you might want to see this,” he said.
Berry read it and passed it to Sylvia.
“What’s up?” Portelain asked.
“Joey pulled this from the latest intelligence report from Homeland Security,” Berry said as it was passed around.
“Interesting,” Sylvia said, “but what does it have to do with the Lee case?”
“Probably nothing,” Berry said. “Any ideas?”
There weren’t any.
“I want to run this by Cole,” Berry said, picking up the intelligence report and ending the meeting.
Carl Berry’s meeting may have just ended, but Annabel Lee-Smith’s was just getting started.
Everyone on the Opera Ball committee gathered for a final run-through of the “Battle Plan,” a thick book in which—hopefully—every conceivable base had been covered, and every possible contingency accounted for. Annabel willed herself to concentrate on the business at hand, but was unable to keep her thoughts from straying back to the dinner with Marc Josephson and what had come out of it. She still wanted to believe that there was something wrong with Josephson’s claim, and his behavior with Mac on the phone that morning helped her in that regard. The man was certainly skewed; hopefully, his claim and alleged supporting evidence was, too. But try as she might to take umbrage in that thought, she knew down deep, felt it in her heart and bones, that Ray Pawkins had stolen the musical scores from Aaron Musinski’s home and…
Conceivably had murdered Musinski.
“You okay, Annabel?” someone asked as they prepared to break for an hour’s lunch.
“Oh, sure. I’m fine. I never dreamed putting on a fund-raiser of this magnitude involved so much planning and detail. You all deserve a medal
“We, you mean. It couldn’t have been done without you. It’s so good that you agreed to act as liaison with the White House. Isn’t it wonderful that the president and first lady will be at the ball?”
“Yes, it’s wonderful,” Annabel said. As far as she knew, her meetings with the various security forces involved had gone well, and all was in place to ensure a safe visit by President and Mrs. Montgomery.
“Grab a bite?” Genevieve Crier asked Annabel as they filed from the room.
“Sure,” Annabel said. “I’m famished
“Meetings like this always