Chapter 5

Isobel sat in the pavilion, hunched over, arms tight across her stomach, listening as Jemma, Tony, and Peter reeled off their basic information to Officer Gonzalez. Her mind was racing with fantastic schemes to prove Delphi's innocence, but before she could form a coherent plan, Vitelli returned with Delphi, who sank into a chair, trembling.

"The bullet did not come from Ms. Kramer's gun," Vitelli announced. "Both chambers still have blanks in them."

Isobel felt her whole body release, and she threw her arms around her friend. "Thank God! Are you okay?"

"I will be as soon as you let go of me," Delphi rasped.

Vitelli turned to Peter. "Do you have any other weapons with you?"

"One." Peter carefully set his derringer, the twin of Delphi's, on the table. "It's a single round, and the blank is still in there."

"How did you transport the firearms?" Vitelli asked.

"I have a bag. It's in the private dining office, along with a box of blanks. No ammo."

"Show me. I need to do a body search as well. We can do that in the office." Vitelli turned to Officer Gonzalez. "Stay here. Bag his gun."

"Will I get my weapons back?" Peter asked as they left the room.

They didn't hear Vitelli's answer.

Isobel turned to Delphi. "Thank God you didn't fire the gun."

"Right before the show, Peter told me to let the joke land first. Not that it's much of a joke."

"I never thought I'd say this, but thank God for his cheesy sense of humor."

"Are you going to search all of us?" Tony asked, wiping his brow.

"Not without sufficient reason," Gonzalez answered. "Your boss admitted to owning the firearms he supplied you with, so unless one of them is missing, there's no reason to search you." Gonzalez eyed Tony for a moment, as if wondering how much to read into his perspiration. Then he finished sealing up the evidence bag.

They sat quietly until Vitelli returned with Peter.

"Blanks," Vitelli confirmed to Gonzalez, setting Peter's carryall gently on the floor. He took a chair and surveyed the group. "Did any of you notice another person pointing a gun?"

"I was only paying attention to Delphi," Isobel said. "She was supposed to shoot me, and I was supposed to fall."

"When the shot came, could you tell which direction it came from?" Vitelli asked.

Isobel shook her head. "I was so hyped up waiting for it that I just hit the ground."

"It sounded like it was everywhere," said Tony, whose powder had melted off unevenly, giving his face a ruddy patchwork appearance.

"If the shot was fired near one of the ambient room mics, the sound would have been amplified by the speakers, which are all around the room," Peter said.

Vitelli made a note and turned to Jemma. "How about you?"

"I was already dead," Jemma said. "I was in the small dining room near the front entrance, checking my email."

Vitelli perked up. "Did you see anyone leaving the building?"

"Sorry, no. Just you all coming in."

Vitelli turned to Peter. "I understand you made some kind of announcement before the show. What exactly did you say?"

"It's a standard part of the show. If you see someone waving a gun, don't try to disarm them because we have cops in the room."

Vitelli gaped at him. "Why the hell would you say something like that?"

Peter's voice rose defensively. "I don't want some moron who isn't smart enough to figure out they're watching a play tackling one of my actors. Someone could get hurt."

Vitelli held his breath for a moment, and Isobel suspected he was counting silently to ten. Finally, he said in a tight voice, "In this day and age, it never occurred to you that there might be some crazy waving a real weapon around?"

"No, it never occurred to me," Peter snapped. "I've been doing this for fifteen years: weddings, bar mitzvahs, any kind of private event. What kind of idiot would shoot someone in a room full of people?"

"And yet that's exactly what just happened," Vitelli said, seething. "If you hadn't made that announcement, this might have been prevented."

"I didn't do anything different from what I always do." Peter's voice wavered slightly.

"And you didn't notice anyone else aiming a gun?" Vitelli asked.

"I was watching my actors. That's what a director does."

Vitelli turned to Tony. "Did you see anything?"

The red parts of Tony's face grew redder. "I was eating."

Vitelli looked around their little circle. "Let me get this straight: you two were watching each other, you were watching your actors, you were eating, and you were dead." He sighed heavily. "You rehearsed in there before the dinner started, right?"

"Again, that's what we always do," Peter said. "We get about an hour before the gig so we can figure out how the staging is going to work in the space."

"Anyone watch your rehearsal?"

"Tons of people, but I couldn't tell you who they were."

"I can," Isobel piped up. "A few of them, anyway."

The others looked at her with interest.

"I'm listening." Vitelli waved his notebook. "You all listen, too. She might jog your memories."

"The judge's assistant, Bethany. She was annoyed that we were rehearsing when she was trying to set up, and she thought the whole murder mystery idea was terrible and the judge would hate it. And the judge did seem to hate it. He made a few comments at the table."

"Like what?"

"I don't remember exactly...something about somebody being very sorry. I think that was the only specific thing he said, but I can't be sure. At some point I stopped listening and started worrying about my death scene."

"Anything else?"

"His clerk, Maggie, the one in the green taffeta dress and the gold platform sandals that totally don't work with it. She's the one who hired us. There were also lots of waiters around. They all saw us. But why would one of them kill the judge?"

"Everybody is somebody outside of their job," Vitelli said pointedly.

"I don't understand why it matters who was watching," Jemma said, gnawing a long, red pinky nail.

Isobel turned to her. "Because whoever fired the shot knew when to do it so it would look like part of the play."

"Anyone else see you practicing?" Vitelli asked.

"I suppose it's possible some of the guests arrived early." Isobel frowned. "I don't remember seeing her, but that doesn't mean she wasn't there."

"Who?" Vitelli prompted.

"Candy, the judge's ex-wife. I wasn't supposed to be sitting next to her. There were place cards set out. My spot was next to the judge, but there was an empty seat, and she insisted I sit in it." Isobel felt a chilly tingle across the back of her neck. "If I'd been in my original seat, the bullet might have hit me."

"If you'd been in your original seat, the murderer might not have taken the shot," Delphi said, her voice still shaky.

"Maybe she was just being friendly," Jemma suggested.

"We'll be talking to Candy Harrison, don't you worry," said Vitelli.

A young policewoman came into the dining pavilion. "Sir, the bullet went clean through and lodged in the table. We were able to extract it. No way it came from a derringer."

Vitelli exhaled, obviously disappointed. "Right. You can all go. Except Ms. Spice. I'd like to speak with you alone." He handed around his card. "If you remember anything else, call me. Anytime, day or night."

Isobel put a hand on Delphi's arm. "Can Delphi stay? We've both had such a shock, it would be great if we could leave together. We're roommates."

Vitelli eyed Delphi as if he still wasn't convinced she was innocent.

"Yeah, okay." He waited for the others to clear, then continued to Isobel. "Why were you at the judge's table?"

"Peter said he likes the action to be as close as possible to the guest of honor."

"I'm interested in what the vibe was. Any tension? Anyone say anything that seems significant in retrospect?"

Isobel thought for a moment. "There was something, but it wasn't at the table. I went over to talk to the judge during the cocktail hour. We were supposed to do improv conversations with the guests. I wouldn't have picked him if I had any idea who he was, because Bethany had already said he was probably going to hate our show. But I didn't know, so I went over."

"And?"

"He said something like 'What the hell is he doing here?' and then he stormed off."

Vitelli looked up from his notepad. "Any idea who he was looking at?"

"No. Maggie was blocking me."

"The woman who hired you?"

"So I've been told." Isobel sat up. "No, wait! The judge asked Maggie where she had gotten the idea, and Candy admitted she'd been the one to suggest it to her. And Candy moved me out of the way. That's got to be significant."

Vitelli gazed thoughtfully at the ceiling. "It's certainly a coincidence, although she couldn't have shot the judge without everyone else at the table noticing."

"Then nobody at the judge's table could have done it," Isobel pointed out.

"Well, yes and no," Vitelli said cryptically. "Anything else you remember?"

"Nothing specific. Just that the mood was pretty tense for what was supposed to be a celebration."

Vitelli flipped his notebook shut. "You've been very helpful. Sorry to put you through this. But, hey, aren't actors always looking for new experiences?"

"Sure," Isobel said, stifling the impulse to point out that this was, in fact, her third murder investigation. But if she had learned anything during the first two, it was when to keep her big mouth shut.