Murder at the Opera - Margaret Truman [128]
They were joined by Sylvia Johnson. Willie made the introductions.
“My wife’s on the committee for this affair,” Mac said. “I lost her for a while. Duty called
“Are you an opera buff, Mr. Smith?” Sylvia asked.
“Afraid not,” Mac said. “They roped me into being an extra—a super—in Tosca.”
“You were in the opera last night?” Willie said. “We were there, only—”
“Duty called us away, too,” Sylvia said.
“You didn’t get to stay for the whole performance?”
“We had to leave after the second act,” Sylvia said.
“Right after she stabbed that guy Scarpia,” Willie said.
“Dramatic scene,” Mac said. “So, what’s new at MPD?”
“Always something new,” Sylvia replied. “Or the old becomes new. Were you involved in the Musinski case?”
“No,” Mac said. “I’d given up criminal law by that time. They never did find the killer
Willie’s laugh rumbled from deep inside. “Case closed, Counselor,” he said.
“‘Case closed’? You’ve made progress?”
Willie looked at Sylvia before answering Smith’s question. They’d been sworn to secrecy about the Charise Lee case. An announcement would be made the following day, most likely by a spokesman for the Department of Homeland Security. But no one had said they couldn’t discuss the Musinski murder.
“Yeah,” Willie said. “That guy Grimes, who worked for Musinski at the school, confessed
“Oh?” Mac said, processing what Portelain had just said.
“We knew it was him from the git-go,” Willie said, “but nobody could ever put together a case against him, at least not enough to prosecute. Till now anyway
“That’s interesting,” said Smith. “Wasn’t there talk of missing manuscripts, musical scores?”
“That’s right,” Johnson agreed.
“The fellow who confessed, did he admit taking those, too?”
Willie shook his head.
“He swears he didn’t even know anything like that was in Musinski’s house,” Sylvia said. “It’ll probably be in the papers tomorrow
“I see. Well, I’m glad you’ve cracked that case,” Mac said. “Speaking of cases, anything new on the murder of the young opera singer?”
“No,” Willie said.
“No,” said Sylvia.
Mac looked at his watch. “Enjoyed the chat,” he said, “and the update. Good work. I hope you get to see the third act of the opera. It’s as good as the first two
He left them, hoping to see Annabel and share what he’d just learned.
Annabel, too, was attempting to find her spouse. She was on the other side of the security divide. Next to her stood a tall man dressed in a costume and mask from Wagner’s Das Rheingold. He moved slightly so that their sides touched.
“Excuse me,” she said.
“Enjoying the evening, Mrs. Smith?”
The voice was familiar.
Ray Pawkins lifted the mask and smiled.
“Oh, hello,” Annabel said.
“You look surprised,” Pawkins said. “Even a little afraid
“Afraid? I—Excuse me,” Annabel said, taking a step away.
Pawkins grabbed her arm. “I think we need to talk
Annabel looked down at her arm and angrily yanked it free.
Another smile, more a smirk, crossed Pawkins’ face.
“I know that that weasel, Josephson, told you and Mac about me,” Pawkins said.
Just then she saw Mac circumvent a knot of dancers and head in their direction.
“Yes, Ray, I think we do need to have a talk,” she said as Mac joined them.
“Good evening, Counselor,” Pawkins said pleasantly, raising his voice just loud enough for Mac and Annabel to hear him over the amplified music and the noise of the crowd.
“That’s quite a costume, Ray,” Mac said.
“Thank you. It’s from Das Rheingold, Wagner’s Ring Cycle. Of all opera composers, Wagner stands tallest. Of course, he’s not to everyone’s taste, especially those with limited patience to sit through the entire Ring, but—”
“Ray knows that Marc Josephson spoke with us about Dr. Musinski and the Mozart-Haydn scores, Mac
“Really? Care to explain, Ray?”
“To you?” Pawkins said snidely. “I don’t owe you or anyone else an explanation. But since you got suckered into it, I’ll be happy to answer your questions. But this is hardly the place
“I agree with that,” Mac said. “You name the time and place
“My house. Tomorrow. Noon. I’ll even make you lunch. I’m not