Death in a Summer Colony (8 page)

16

F
lorence Carlotta arrived like a small tornado, breathless and animated, dragging two huffing Scottie dogs, rotund mops of black hair pulling in opposite directions at right angles to her intended course. A pair of vintage Birkenstocks, peaking from beneath a large floral skirt, provided the platform for Florence’s ample figure.

Ray started to bend to pet the Scotties.

“I wouldn’t do that,” Carlotta warned sternly. “Una doesn’t fancy men much. Araballa, she’s the younger one, doesn’t either, but she’s less of a biter. They have nailed the phone man, the UPS driver, the plumber, and the painter. I’m sure they would have gotten the butcher, the baker and candlestick maker, too, if they were still around. Equal opportunity biters who don’t discriminate.”

“Seems to me their targets are very gender specific,” observed Ray.

“Yes, that’s true, but it doesn’t necessarily represent the views of the management, as they say on TV. Nature over nurture, genes over environment. The girls have their own take on the world.

“I know I’m a half-an-hour early. Tony Grattan is supposed to be here, but I’ve traded time-slots with him. You see, I have to be on the road by noon. Want to be downstate before the southbound rush begins. I’m sure you don’t mind. Tony will be here in thirty minutes just like I was supposed to be. That man is totally dependable. A real gem.”

“I was trying to interview people in order….”

“Yes, you said that last night when you were setting up your schedule. But it hardly matters, does it? I mean, since we don’t really know when Malcolm was killed, at best it’s a guess who saw him last. Well, of course, in truth the killer was the last one to see him alive, but he or she was hardly going to admit their guilt so you could have your little arrangement in proper order. Too bad, isn’t it? We could get this whole untidy incident over with. So you have some questions for me?”

“Tell me about last night. What time did Malcolm arrive? What kind of makeup did you apply, and why did you walk him onstage?”

“Malcolm arrived late. I mean later than anyone else….”

“Let me interrupt you for a minute. When he came in, was he alone or was someone with him?”

“What do you mean, like with him?”

“Was he with other cast members, or one of his employees, or…?” Ray let the question hang.

“When I saw him he was alone. I mean, most of us came together or almost together. People had been at Verity’s. And Tony Grattan, being the good stage manager that he is, got us moving toward the Assembly Hall with enough time to get everyone costumed and in makeup. I mean, it’s a lot like herding cats, these people, especially after a few drinks, but that man has so much grace and skill. I could never figure out why he and Mrs. Grattan didn’t make it. Some people thought perhaps he was gay, or perhaps she was gay. I thought she was just a floozy, and he couldn’t stand it anymore. I mean, some people look so good when you are in college, but when you get out there, jobs, kids, that’s when the rubber slams the road. All those good looks don’t amount to much when there’s work to be done.

“So what I was telling you is that Malcolm came in alone. Most of the other people in the cast took care of themselves, put their make-up on, got into their costumes. Not Malcolm, he insisted upon being attended to. I mean, he’s used to that kind of thing, having people scurrying around. And other than getting into that vintage suit, there was no need for make-up. I mean, he was just going to put his head down on a desk and try to look dead. But he wanted makeup and wounds, bullet wounds. Like I said, he didn’t need them for the play, but he wanted them for the cast party. So I did that for him, two big wounds, an entry and an exit. It took awhile to get everything right. I had to glue them in place, and then I had to apply makeup to his forehead and neck to make everything match. Then he walked around the green room and asked everyone how he looked. Got lots of comments. That man always needed attention. I mean, not that most men don’t, but Malcolm was especially needy.”

“Okay, so once the makeup was on, and he had an opportunity to show it around, what happened?”

“Tony Grattan popped in to make sure people were ready for the next scene. At which point I got Malcolm queued up. As soon as the curtain was down on the first scene, I walked Malcolm onstage. Once he was seated, I helped him situate his head just so. He didn’t want to mess up his makeup. I mean, he wanted it perfect for the cast party. I told him I’d repair any damage, but he….”

“And when did the lights go off.”

“Well, I left him there. Told him sweet dreams and went back to the dressing room to see if anyone else needed help. I was floating around checking on people when it went dark. Right away people were using their phones for light. I found a chair and decided to stay put till the lights came back on. I mean, I wouldn’t want to break a hip or anything. This lighting thing is such a problem. David does his best to hold things together. Every year we hear the rewiring is high priority, and then there’s a major crisis and….”

“So to the best of your knowledge, Malcolm never left the chair after you walked him there.”

“Correct. He wasn’t planning to move till the scene was over.”

“Was there anyone else on stage or in the wings.”

“Not that I saw.”

“How about David Johnson?”

“I don’t recall. He might have been up in his crow’s nest.”

“Was there anyone around that shouldn’t have been there, someone who wasn’t an actor or crew member?”

“I don’t recall that. There’s often family around, I mean, like kids. Or sometimes a spouse pops in. But not on show night. Then it’s real business.”

“Wudbine, how long have you known him?”

“Well, we’re contemporaries. I’ve known him thirty or forty summers, on and off. And I’ve been friends with Verity, summer friends, most of my life. But even at the time of the great breakup, I wasn’t totally on her side. Verity could be very selfish and self-centered. I’ve noticed especially pretty women are like that. They can get away with it. I think Malcolm got tired of being little more than an adornment to the perfect family.”

Ray waited, assuming more was coming. When it didn’t, he asked. “What was your relationship with Wudbine?”

“I would see him a few times over the summer. He was pretty much excluded from the private parties after the divorce. But he’d always come by my cottage early in the season and have a drink. Did the same before the end of the summer, too. He also gave me some investment advice. Helped me with my inheritance. He made some good money for me, and fortunately, I got out early. Never lost a dime in the dotcom or the Bush crash. I’ve heard some people didn’t do as well. There are some jokes circulating about “Malcolm” Madoff. But that wasn’t my experience.”

“Would you give me….”

“I mean, people were just joking. It was something I overheard. People were jealous that he seemed unscathed, while lots of the older folks here lost a big part of their retirement. I don’t know if any of them had anything invested with Malcolm. In recent years he became too big time for us.”

“So you were positively disposed toward Malcolm Wudbine?”

“Absolutely. He had his moments and could be horribly obnoxious. But that was just a cover. I mean, in truth, Malcolm was a black hole of insecurities. All the puffery was just a cover.

“And I’ll tell you something else. In spite of what you may hear, he will be greatly missed. Whenever there was a crisis, the powers that be would run around like a bunch of chickens with their heads cut off. Eventually they would get around to asking Malcolm what to do, and he’d tell them. And often he’d even put up the cash to make it happen. Most of these guys couldn’t organize a…well,
you get my drift. They are good at goal setting and visioning, but as I said, when it comes to the rubber smacking the road, they can’t get it done. Malcolm was a doer, a damn efficient one.”

She looked at her watch. “Now, Sheriff, you really have to excuse me, but I’ve got to get on the road.”

“What’s the purpose of your trip?”

“The girls, they need grooming.”

“And you’re driving downstate for that?”

“No one up here knows how to cut Scotties. And Stephanie is the only one who can groom them without being bitten. She majored in psychology at Michigan State, and boy does she know how to use it. Few people ever use what they learn in college. She sure does.”

“When do you plan on returning?” asked Ray.

“Tuesday morning. I don’t want to waste any of this beautiful weather.”

“I’ve heard some people are considering leaving….”

“Pure silliness. Let me tell you, lots of people have died here over the years, heart attacks, strokes, and drownings. And, yes, this is a murder and that’s different, but…you know what I mean. I can’t imagine packing up and going home over something like this. If you have any more questions, I shall return by midafternoon on Tuesday.”

17

A
fter watching Florence Carlotta and her pack depart, Ray sat for a long moment and enjoyed the quiet. He listened to the wind in the tall trees and the distant echo of waves against the beach, perhaps more imagined than real. He turned his attention to his notes, highlighting Carlotta’s comments about Malcolm Wudbine looking after her investments. He wondered how many other colony members had had financial dealings with Wudbine over the years. Clearly, Florence Carlotta, given some careful planning, was in a position to kill Wudbine. Would she have been able to shut off the power, or would she have needed a collaborator? His musings were interrupted by a gentle rapping at the screen door.

At Ray’s beckoning, Tony Grattan walked into the building. After shaking hands, Grattan settled into the chair across from him, shifting from side to side, using the armrests to aid in positioning his narrow frame. He sat ramrod straight, his nose, chin, and shoulders in perfect alignment.

“I trust it’s okay that Flossy and I made the trade. She was most insistent. Quite formidable, that woman. It’s hardly worth the psychic energy to oppose her on issues that are less than of life-shaking importance.”

Ray’s only response was a bemused smile. “Walk me through everything that happened last evening. I would like you to start at the cocktail party. Or even before if something comes to mind that you think might shed light on this crime.”

“Well, I can’t imagine that I have anything more to tell you that you didn’t hear from Flossy. My comments will be skeletal by comparison. She’s probably blended every rumor and innuendo from the last 40 years into her account of last night’s tragic events. That woman has a memory like an elephant, and she holds nothing back.”

Ray noted both the words and tone in which they were delivered. “A chronology without extra elaboration would be perfectly acceptable,” Ray responded. “Just the facts.”

“Well, like you said, I started moving the actors and crew toward the theatre an hour before the performance. I had two motives. First, I wanted to get the characters there and in costume and makeup well before curtain time. I wanted people there early so they would have some quiet time to get into character. And the second motive, which probably should have been the first motive if I was really thinking about this chronologically, was to get people out of there so they wouldn’t have too much to drink. Let someone have two, three, or more drinks and their lines get muddled or disappear by the time they walk on stage.”

“And you were able to succeed….”

“Remarkably well. Good group this year. No unpleasantness or friction. No surly drunks. I circulated through the crowd, pointing to my watch, and everyone got the message. Everyone but Malcolm, of course, because he wasn’t at the party. Arriving late is his modus operandi, always the grand entrance, usually with his entourage in tow.”

“How late was he?”

“We were getting ready for the opening curtain. When he came in, I pointed to Flossy and said, ‘You’re in charge. Get him ready.’ She’s the only one in the colony he couldn’t buffalo. I knew he’d be in place and ready for the second scene.”

“You mentioned his entourage. Who was with Wudbine?”

“Interesting enough, no one that I remember. He might have been accompanied as far as the stage door, but I wouldn’t have seen that.”

“So continue.”

“Well, I knew that Malcolm was under control, and we managed to get through the first scene without any lost lines or other problems. I was worried about the lights. That’s been a problem for years, but now it’s worse than ever. People just keep plugging more stuff in. And with all the thunder and lightning…well.”

“So if something went wrong with the electrical system, do you know your way around the collection of electrical boxes?” asked Ray.

“Oh, absolutely. Not all of them, grant you. But I know the main shutoff. David has always said that if something goes horribly wrong, and he’s getting fried, turn off the master switch first. Don’t touch him or try to remove his body. Turn off the master switch and then attend to him.”

“How many other people know about this?”

“Lots. We have this whole safety procedure, and we go through it every summer during our opening orientation. We show crewmembers where the main electrical shutoff is located, just like we show them the locations of the fire extinguishers and how they work. But some of the old-timers have heard this spiel so often, I’m not sure they bother to listen. They just stand there and nod their heads. But in a real emergency, hopefully someone would remember.”

“Where were you when the lights went off?”

“I was in the green room checking that people were ready to go onstage. I was near the door that opens into the main hall. There was lightning and thunder, the lights blinked and then went out. I just sort of held my position waiting for them to come back on, that’s the way it usually happens. Only this time it didn’t. Then people started using their phones for light. I asked everyone to stay put. Eventually, everything came back on.”

“Give me your best estimate of how long the lights were off?”

“Hard to say, really. Two minutes, maybe more. I was trying to keep people calm. Lots of questions were coming my way. People wanted to know how we were going to handle the situation. That kind of thing.”

“Then what happened?”

“I asked everyone to remain in the green room until I checked with David that it was safe to go onstage. I left the green room and walked backstage to talk to him. I could see that something was terribly wrong. I just stayed in the background. A few minutes later you arrived. I was ordered back to the green room.”

“Before and after the lights went off, were you blocking the green room door?”

“I wouldn’t say blocking. And it’s a big door, two doors, actually. I was off to the left on the inside.”

“When the lights were out, could someone have entered or left without your knowing?”

Grattan’s answer was slow in coming. “I don’t know. But if truth be told, I might not notice comings and goings even if the lights were on. My former wife used to say that I had no sense of what was happening around me. And she would have been right on that. If someone is talking to me, that’s where my focus is. I don’t know if it is a problem of peripheral vision, or something cognitive.”

“So you have no memory of anyone entering or leaving the green room when the lights were out, or immediately before or after?”

“Correct. I do remember David saying that someone had pulled the main disconnect.”

“Has that ever happened before?”

“No, not in my memory. That’s the curious thing. Having the lights go off—some of them—that’s no big thing, a common occurrence. But having someone pull the main switch, that’s a big thing.”

“Have there been other acts like this? Maybe one or more individuals, perhaps teenagers, who have been engaged in some mischief or shenanigans?”

“Through the years I can think of cases, even name names of the parties thought to be the trouble
makers. We haven’t had those problems in awhile. The population here is getting older. There are almost no young families, not like when I was a kid. And teenagers are few and far between. This event, this messing with the power, is outside the realm of what happens here. Water balloons and toilet paper, maybe, but nothing like this. To my way of thinking, it’s directly connected with Wudbine’s murder.” Grattan paused for a minute. “And you know it’s not rocket science.”

“You’ve lost me,” said Ray.

“All those panels back there. Anyone with limited knowledge of how things work could figure it out. That switch is clearly marked. I think it’s done that way for firefighters. What I’m trying to say is that you shouldn’t just be looking at colony people. If some outsiders were looking to kill Malcolm, they could figure this out.”

“Wouldn’t you notice strangers hanging around?”

“That is pretty much a public building. People take tours. We’re used to having visitors around. It’s not unusual to have people standing in the back of the auditorium during rehearsals. They are not disruptive, and we pretend they’re not there.”

“Malcolm Wudbine, how long have you known him?”

“Maybe thirty years off and on, he’s a bit older than me. I worked in the auto industry and got moved around the country a lot. After my parents passed, I shared our cottage with my sister and her family, but there were periods where we didn’t make it here for several seasons. For many decades I knew who he was, but little more. When I got involved in the theatre again, after I got pushed into early retirement, that’s when I had more contact with him.”

“How did you find him, Wudbine?”

“My dealings with him were very limited. He didn’t bother me.”

“Did you have any business or financial dealings with him?”

“No,” Grattan answered. “My contact was here.”

“Do you know anyone who might have a motive to cause him harm?”

“All I know are the rumors and stories, and I don’t even know those very well. I live on my own. I listen to music, read books, walk the shore, and enjoy this place. I do my best to keep away from the noise of other people’s lives.”