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touched my own wrist and it was nearly the same temperature. This kid had only been
dead a few minutes. Maybe that was important, maybe it wasn t. But he died sometime
during the film since he d have been noticed if he was sitting there dead when the audience
came in. My guess was that he d died toward the end of the film.
Taking a closer look, I noted that the reddish bruise on his neck didn t go around to
the back. Whoever killed him had sat behind him, slipped a rope, or a scarf, or a belt over
his head and then pulled it tight until he suffocated. Stepping down a few seats, I leaned
over the row and looked at the floor directly behind the young man s seat. It wasn t too
bright, but there might have been a couple of scuff marks on the floor. I couldn t be sure. I
stood up and looked around. I wondered how close other people had been when this
happened.
I looked up and the two men who d found him were coming back down the aisle.
The taller one explained that when they d found the manager he was on the phone with the
police for the second time. Both men were both fifty, thin and a bit affected one of them
wore a paisley kerchief around his neck. I wondered if they were a couple or just best
friends.
Where were you sitting? I asked.
One of them pointed at a spot three rows down.
Did you notice who was sitting back here?
No, we didn t notice anything, one of them said. We hadn t even noticed this
young man.
I noticed him, the one with the kerchief said.
The other one said, Of course you did, under his breath. They were a couple.
He came in about ten minutes after the movie started, Kerchief explained. During
the cemetery scene.
And you didn t see anyone else?
No.
I looked around for the woman who had screamed, but didn t see her anywhere.
What about the woman who screamed? Where had she been sitting? I was pretty sure
she d also been sitting a few rows in back, but wanted to confirm that with her.
The two men looked at each other and shrugged.
Just then a CPD officer came down the aisle with Mike, the manager. I recognized
the officer. His name was McGuffin. I didn t remember that. I read it off the nametag he
wore. There was a flicker of recognition when I told him my name, but he didn t say
anything. As quickly as I could I told him everything that had happened. Including the
possible disappearance of the woman who d screamed. When I was done, he nodded and
said, Now back off.
He knew more about me than he d let on.
I backed off. I hadn t registered it before, but half the audience was still there and
lingering a few feet from the murder scene. I looked for Hallahan and his entourage, but
instead saw only Waldo Creed. I walked over to Creed.
Have you seen Hallahan and his crew? I asked.
They re backstage. They re terribly shaken by this. Isabella in particular. I was
about to go check on them when Creed grabbed my arm and said, What happened?
Someone strangled him, I said.
Creed s hand went instinctively to his throat. I began to walk away, but then I
stopped. I have something of yours. I took his wallet out of my inside jacket pocket and
offered it to him. He grabbed it quickly. As he rifled through it he said under his breath,
You searched the body! You clever boy!
A moment later, his arms flopped to his sides and he nearly dropped the wallet onto
the floor. It s empty, he said, his voice flat like it had been stepped on.
What did you mean I searched the body ?
You found my wallet on& him. Wait, where did you find my wallet?
It was turned in at the hotel, I lied. Kurt hadn t asked me to, but I didn t think it
would help him much if Waldo Creed knew they d shared a sexual conquest. The guy who
was just killed is the guy who stole your wallet?
No, of course not. I was confused for a moment. Honestly, I don t think I d
recognize that particular young man if he walked up and bit me.
You spent at an hour having sex with him, if not more. I think you d recognize him.
He pursed his lips. Most of that time the lights were off. At my age the most
flattering lighting is total darkness.
Creed waited for me to laugh, but I didn t.
What did you expect to find in your wallet? I asked.
My money, of course.
I don t think so. You didn t even check for your credit cards. If you were that
worried about money you would have.
I canceled my credit cards, he said.
It s not about the money. It s about something else. If it was about the money the
kid would have used your cards and never returned the wallet. I was thinking on my feet. I
had no idea where this would lead, but I had the feeling it went somewhere.
Fine. Don t believe me, Creed said. But if you say anything about my wallet being
stolen to the police I ll have you fired.
I smiled. The job ends next week. It will take Robert that long to work up the
courage to fire me.
He pouted and tried to think up another threat.
I cut him off, Don t worry. I m not going to tell the police. You should tell them. But
I won t.
I have no intention of involving myself in this ugly business, he said, then spun
around on his heal and walked away. I wondered which old Joan Crawford movie he got
that little move from.
I was on my way backstage to check on Hallahan when Stewart hurried up the aisle.
He had on a leather bomber jacket and a pair of blue workpants. I wondered if he was
deliberately trying to look like an airplane mechanic.
Robert should be here soon, he said.
Hallahan backstage?
Yes. They re ready to leave, though.
That s probably fine. But they should wait until a homicide detective gets here, just
in case.
Why? I m sure they didn t see anything.
You re sure? Don t you know? Weren t you with them the whole time? I asked.
Of course I was with them the whole time. He twitched when he said it.
Then you re not sure they didn t see anything. You know they didn t see anything.
He sighed. Isabella had to go to the ladies room and she was taking a long time so
Denny went to see if she was okay.
How long were they gone?
Ten minutes or so.
At the beginning of the film?
Toward the end.
They re going to have to stick around. That s around the time the guy was killed.
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