Rick Blechta - Orchestrated Murder

“Pratt! What have you got for me?”

The situation was quickly outlined.

“I could really use more people,” Pratt told his boss. “We’re stretched too thin, and time is running out. I can’t keep the orchestra here forever.”

“I’ll have to shake someone else’s tree. You’ve got everyone from here.” The captain changed the subject. “Did you talk to El Presidente of the symphony’s board?”

“Yeah, Norris was here. He may still be around, as a matter of fact. He wanted an update on where we stood. I got called away.”

“Not a nice man to cross, I would think. When I got called up to the chief ’s office, he was there with the mayor to turn up the heat on us.” The captain chuckled. “I probably shouldn’t tell you this, but Norris said he was going to go down there to personally shake things up. On his way out he was grumbling that it was his second trip down of the day and he had better-”

“What did you say? Pratt interrupted. “He was here already this morning? When?”

“Norris said he’d had to come down to thank the orchestra for coming in for the extra rehearsal. He talked about what a sensitive bunch they are, how they needed to be stroked all the time. Didn’t he tell you about that?”

“No, he didn’t,” Pratt growled. “And I’m going to find out why.”

Pratt took the stairs back up two at a time. His tiredness was forgotten. He hated being played by someone.

He found Norris in his office with Browne. Both men looked up in surprise at the abrupt entry.

“Why didn’t you tell me you’d already been down here this morning?” Pratt asked angrily.

“Look here, Detective! I don’t like your tone.”

“I don’t like people not being honest with me.”

“In case you don’t remember our earlier conversation, you never asked me.”

“Well, I’m asking now.” Pratt sat on the other vacant seat in front of the desk and made a show of taking out his notebook and pen. “When were you down here and why?”

“I don’t have to talk to you.”

The detective got to his feet again. “Okay. Play it that way. We’ll talk downtown. Bring a whole law firm to hold your hand if you want. I don’t care. But just remember that you’re going to be escorted out of here in front of all those reporters outside.”

Pratt pulled out his walkie-talkie and turned up the volume again.

After looking at Browne for a moment, Norris got to his feet too. “Perhaps I spoke hastily, Detective. Please…take a seat.”

Knowing he had to keep the upper hand, Pratt nodded, then sat. “Tell me about this morning.”

“Our concert last night wasn’t the best, at least in Spadafini’s eyes. The man was a bloody perfectionist. Tonight’s performance was going to be recorded for a radio broadcast, so he demanded an extra rehearsal. To keep him happy, I agreed. Of course, our musicians were furious, so it was up to me to placate them with a little pep talk before the rehearsal.”

“What time was that?”

“Nine o’clock. I spoke for about five minutes and promised them all a bit of a bonus as a token of thanks from the board. I departed immediately afterward.”

“Where did you go?”

“Directly home.”

In order to build up a little tension, Pratt made a show of looking back at several pages in his notebook. “You and the mayor were in the chief ’s office before the press even got wind of what happened down here. How did you find-”

“From me,” Browne interrupted. “I called Mr. Norris right after my call to the police.”

Pratt turned to the orchestra manager. “Who else did you call?”

“Um…my wife to tell her I certainly wouldn’t be home for lunch.”

“Oh really.”

“And where did you call Mr. Norris from?”

“I used my cell phone. As chairman of the board, he needed to know right away.”

“Your cell phone.”

“Yes.”

“Detective Pratt,” Norris said, “I appreciated that Browne was doing such a good job under very trying circumstances. I’m not sure I would have thought of something like that if I had been in his place. We’re very lucky to have Mr. Browne.”

Pratt brought his attention back to Norris. “When you left, did anyone see you?”

“The security guard was at his desk, if that’s what you mean.”

“I was with him too,” Browne added.

Pratt looked at Norris, again with a pause. “And you went right home.”

Norris returned the stare. “I went right home.”

“At home, who saw you?”

“My daughter and her boyfriend.”

“Anyone else?”

“I wasn’t home long. Maybe our maid. I really don’t remember.”

Seeing that there wasn’t much more to be gained, Pratt got to his feet. “I see you’re working on a press release,” he said, looking down at a sheet of paper on Norris’s desk.

“We have to say something. The longer we wait, the worse it will be.”

“I have to ask you not to release this until I’ve taken a look at it. I’m sure you wouldn’t want to compromise the investigation.”

“No. Of course not. Speaking of which, are you any closer to knowing what happened?”

“We’ve found out a number of useful things. I have hopes.”

Pratt left them and walked down the hall a short distance. Outside Browne’s office, a uniformed cop was standing.

“Any problems with the locals?” Pratt asked.

“If you mean Browne, how about every ten minutes or so? Are you keeping him out of his office just to annoy him?”

“Maybe.”

The cop smiled. “Good. He’s a jackass.”

Pratt’s walkie-talkie had been turned off for nearly ten minutes, and as he took the elevator down one floor to the security desk, he listened to the wash of chatter. Seemed as if everyone wanted to talk to him.

“I’m at the security desk,” Pratt was saying as the elevator doors opened. “Sorry for being offline. Ellis-you there?”

Through a bit of crackle, Ellis said, “Live and in person.”

“Good. Do you know where the Green Room is?”

“I’m sitting in it right now.”

“Sit tight. I’ll be there shortly.”

The security guard was standing just inside the stage door, talking to the two cops guarding it.

Pratt motioned him over to his desk. “You were on all morning?”

“I came on duty at seven am.”

“James Norris, do you know him by sight?”

The guard snorted. “Of course. Been working here five years, haven’t I?”

“Did you see him arrive this morning?”

“I buzzed him in shortly before the orchestra started rehearsing.”

“When did he leave?”

“About fifteen minutes later. I let him out.”

“But he has a key.

“I suppose so. I’ve never seen him use it.”

“So he could have come back in again.”

“Why?”

Pratt wanted to throttle the man. “Let’s just say he did, okay?”

“Well, I’ve been here all morning, but I did my rounds starting at ten-oh-five and was gone for twelve, maybe fifteen minutes. I suppose he could have come back in.” The guard looked down at his cubicle. “But we’d have a video record of it, wouldn’t we?”

“Did the sergeant who was up here look through the security recordings?”

The guard nodded once.

“Did he look at the footage showing the stage door?”

Again the single nod. “I helped him.”

“And what did it show?”

“Nothing. The camera ain’t been working for a week. I’ve called in for a repairman and complained to Browne.”

Pratt heaved a sigh as he headed down the hall to the Green Room.

When he got there, Ellis was sitting on a sofa, legs crossed, while he scribbled madly in his notebook.