Final Act by Dianne Yetman (best free ebook reader .TXT) 📕

him. Too many years working in the precinct, he thought.

“Ms. Parsons, how long have you been with the theatre company?”

“About a year and a half.  Mr. Stone gave me my first break.”

“How did that come about?”

“He heard of me through one of his friends.  My sister, who was living with my husband and I at the time, was in a high school production that wasn’t going well.  She knew I loved to write and asked if I would re-work the screenplay she and her two friends had concocted.  I did and it proved to be successful.  From there, I moved on to writing the plays put on in the summer by an amateur acting group at Point Pleasant Park.  On one of his friend’s recommendation, I can`t remember who now, Jeffrey came, liked what he saw, and invited me to join the company. ”

“What was your role on this production?”

“Mine was a multi-tasked role.  I ran errands, helped arranged the sets, sometimes took over the props from Ed, and made coffee.  I didn’t mind, the opportunity to listen and learn from a theatrical genius was worth it.”

She reached in the pocket of her sweater, pulled out a Kleenex and dabbed at the single tear standing in the corner of her eye.

“What was Mr. Stone’s behaviour like on the set?”

“He did get out of sorts from time to time, but not without reason.  I don’t think he always found it easy dealing with lesser talents.”

“He didn’t respect the company’s talent.  Is that what you’re saying?”

“No, not at all.  It’s, well, it’s just that he was, you know, different and it’s hard sometimes for people to accept different.”

“How did you get along with him?”

“Fine.  There were no problems.”

“Would you say he had made some enemies on the set?”

“He bruised a few egos, but no, he didn’t make any lasting enemies.”

“So, Ms. Parsons, what happens to you now the play has wrapped?”

“I’m not sure.  Mr. Stone had assured me I had a promising future in the theatre but now that he’s gone, I can only hope others will see something of what he saw in me.”

“That’s all for now Ms. Parsons.  Thank you for your cooperation.  We may call on you at some point in the future.”

“You’re welcome.  I am only too willing to cooperate with this investigation.  The theatre has lost a great light.  I consider it my duty to help in any way I can.”

Withers nodded and watched her leave the room. Taking out his notebook, he entered her name and scribbled a small note:  good candidate for another interview, too much sweetness and light.

***

Andrew, summoned by the woman police constable for his interview, walked down the hallway, and knocked on the Eleanor’s office door.   Disappointment stung him when he heard a male voice inviting him to come in.  He hoped Sgt. Kate Fraser would be conducting the interview.  Now that was a woman he could consider giving up his selfish slutty self for the likes of her.

Her beauty had literally stunned him when the detective in charge introduced her.  He had stood like an adolescent, nodding his head and smiling, unable to croak out a word.  She was tallest woman he had met, would come up to his chin in her stocking feet, the image stung him with excitement.  Probably got a thing going with someone.

Sighing, he opened the door and entered the office.  Gordon Ramsey sat behind the desk.  Making like a Howard Hughes, he ignored Andrew`s extended hand, and invited him to be seated.  He didn`t waste time with polite talk, turned the tape recorder on and began.

“So, Mr. Wilkins, how long have you worked with Jeffrey Stone?”

“Since he first joined us three years ago.”

“Did the two of you get along?”

“As well as anyone.”

“That’s not an answer, Mr. Williams.  Yes or no.”

“A yes or no doesn’t work, too limiting, doesn’t take in all the little nuances found in working relationships.  I guess I would lean towards yes, I mean, he could be difficult but it goes hand in glove with genius.”

“Care to elaborate on genius?”

 

“Just my personal observations, of course, but I’ve found gifted people to be a bit unbalanced, that is, they can swing to extremes very easily and can be temperamental when people don’t grasp their vision.”

“So, he had temper tantrums, did he?”

“Yes, by times.”

“Did he pick on anyone in particular?”

Andrew crossed on leg over another.

“Not really.  He could be mercurial but he was over it quickly.  He wasn’t one to hold a grudge.”

“He made an enemy though didn’t he?  Must have really pissed someone off.  Any idea who?”

“No, none at all.”

“Who looked after stocking the liquor cabinet?”

“Ed, the stage hand did.  He’d refresh the apple juice after 5 performances or so.  Other than that, the bottle stayed untouched.”

“Any idea when Stone put his own bottle of bourbon in the cabinet?”

“No.  I assumed he transferred it from his own stash to the cabinet sometime before the toast.  It wasn’t there at the beginning of the week. I was searching for the glasses that were always placed on top of the cabinet and the bottom compartment was empty.”

“A man carrying a bottle of bourbon to the stage would attract a bit of attention, don’t you think?”

“Yes, but Jeffrey was constantly in and out of the theatre at all hours of the day and night.  He could have moved it when the place was empty.”

“So, Mr. Williams, what happens now?  Any idea who will step into the Director’s chair?”

Andrew brushed a piece of lint from the shirt sleeve.

“None at all.”

“Is it something you’d be interested in?”

“Certainly.  But not interested enough to poison someone’s whiskey.”

“Is that so?  Well, I’ll keep that in mind.  Any thoughts on who may have placed the poison in the bottle?”

Andrew’s face paled.

“None at all, no one associated with this production.”

“What