We'll Always Have Parrots(31)
“We want to thank all of you for coming,” Michael announced, while Walker and Maggie shook the final winner’s hand and held up her trophy. “Contestants, please gather in the lobby for your group photos.”
“And don’t forget, the Amblyopian Minstrels will be playing as soon as the tech crew finishes the setup,” Walker added.
A cheer went up at this announcement. Michael thanked the crowd and left the stage, heading my way.
“Much as I hate to disappoint Walker, I don’t think I can stay up to hear his band,” he said, yawning. “I’m all in.”
“Oh, so that’s who the Amblyopian Minstrels are,” I said. “I wondered why they were so popular.”
“Yeah, the fans love them, and they’re actually not bad, but I can hear them another time. So, even you couldn’t talk the miserable troll out of her lair.”
I glanced around to see if the detective was within earshot, and took a deep breath.
“No, even I can’t raise the dead,” I said.
“Dead?” he said. “What do you mean, dead?”
“Someone killed her.”
“Please tell me you’re joking,” he said, suddenly looking much more awake. “Are you sure?”
“I found the body,” I said. “Yes, I’m sure she’s dead, and not from natural causes. I’ve been talking to the police for the last hour. They’re probably going to want to talk to you and everyone who knew her well enough…well enough to be useful.”
“Well enough to be a suspect, you mean,” he said. “So I suppose there’s no use going back to the room.”
“It’s part of the crime scene, anyway,” I said.
“She was killed in our room?”
“No, but she had her security latch on,” I said.
“So whoever killed her got in by climbing over from our balcony,” he said, nodding.
“In, maybe,” I said. “Out, definitely.”
“And my card key’s been missing since this morning,” he said. “And who knows whether Nate was careful with yours before he gave it back to you. At least I assume he gave it back to you.”
“Actually, he left it lying around in my booth.”
“Figures,” Michael said, nodding. We stood watching as the police officers drew various people aside. Maggie, Nate, Chris—most of the Porfiria cast and crew.
“Of course, we shouldn’t worry too much,” I said. “There’s no shortage of suspects.”
“No, there isn’t,” Michael said. “Poor woman.”
“Who, the QB?” I asked.
He nodded.
“That’s the sad part,” he said. “As far as I could see, she was a wretched human being. I’m sure there’s someone, somewhere, who will grieve over her death, but I can’t think who. A few people will be pleased, though most of them wouldn’t admit it, even to themselves. And a lot of people will pretend to be shocked when they’re really only dying of curiosity. And some people will be upset, but mostly because they’re worried about how her death will affect them. Their careers, mostly. I’m partly in that category.”
“Only partly?” I asked.
“I feel a little sad,” he said. “But mainly because it’s such a waste—of her talents. She wasn’t a great actress, but she knew how to make the most of what she could do. And in her own strange way, she was a hell of an organizer. Maybe it’s just the waste. As long as she was alive, there was always the chance she’d do an Ebenezer Scrooge and turn into a decent human being. And now…”
“It’s a wrap,” I said. “No more retakes.”
He nodded.
“Not to change the subject, but is that the detective?” he asked. “That man who’s frowning so sternly at us?”
Chapter 16
“Yes, that’s Detective Foley,” I said. “He’s probably peeved because he told me not to tell anybody about the QB’s death.”
“And here you are, telling me,” he said, with a chuckle, as Foley headed our way.
“You’re not just anybody,” I said.
“I suppose you told your boyfriend,” the detective said, stopping in front of us.
“He’d have found out in a minute anyway; he was about to go up to the room and go to bed,” I said, wrapping a protective arm around Michael’s waist. “He’s got a bad cold, and he’s been up since before six.”
“I’ll try to make it quick,” the detective said. “If you’ll come with me, Mr. Waterston.”
“Have you got another room for us to stay in?” I asked, as they turned to leave.