Kirby left the booth, going down to the back of the auditorium. The rehearsal was still in progress. He could see people sitting in the front few rows watching. If it was the same as two days ago, when they’d come to let the company know about Ms Westcott’s murder, he figured Mr Travers would be one of them, although he couldn’t pick him out as they were all silhouetted by the lights from the stage.
He walked down an aisle, taking a seat to one side, a few rows back from the others. Now he could see the men, and one woman, more clearly. Travers’s attention was tightly focused on what was happening on stage. Once in a while he seemed make a note about something.
Fifteen minutes later Kirby was considering going down and pulling Travers away to talk to him. He was saved from interrupting when the director stood and told the actors to take a ten minute break between acts.
Kirby hurried down to the row behind Travers, tapping him on the shoulder. “May I have a few words with you?” he asked when the man turned to look at him.
“Right now?” When Kirby nodded, Dean sighed. “Here or..?”
“One of the offices would be better.”
“All right.” Dean stood and led the way to his office next to the costume shop. When they were inside he frowned, saying, “Make it quick please. We are in the middle of a rehearsal.”
“I understand that. Were you the only one who stayed late the night Ms Westcott was murdered?”
Dean smiled slightly. “I suspect you already know the answer to that, if you’re any good at your job. I wasn’t, but since I didn’t see Olsen or his assistant, and he probably didn’t see me, we can’t really alibi each other. If that’s what you’re looking for.”
Kirby gave him a small smile in return. “It is. Olsen said his man says he did hear someone moving around though.”
“That would have been me, unless there was someone else here that none of us knew about.”
“Would that have been possible?”
“Yes. Once the security guard knows who’s staying late, which he makes note of, he arms the system and then leaves. We all know that, and anyone can return if they want to, just as anyone here can leave, as long as they have a key and know the code.” Dean relaxed marginally, leaning back against his desk as he talked.
“Who would those people be?”
“Shouldn’t you be asking someone who isn’t a suspect?”
“What makes you think that’s what you are?”
Dean snorted. “I’m not stupid. I had a fight with her, if you want to call it that. You’re here asking questions. One plus one equals two in my book.”
“True,” Kirby agreed. “But, I for one don’t think of you as a suspect.”
“Why not?” Dean asked with surprise
“Because there’s something you neglected to tell her, which would have made her back off and leave you alone. Why you didn’t, I have no clue, but…” Kirby looked questioningly at Dean.
“Believe me I did my best, even to the point of insulting her, which I told you about.”
Kirby shook his head. “If you’d told her you were gay I think that would have done it.”
“But I’m not…” Dean dropped his eyes to stare at the floor. “What makes you think that?”
“Good instincts, plus I saw you at a club a while back.”
“Oh shit!” Dean would have said more but a knock on the door and someone’s calling out that it was time to get back to work stopped him.
“I want to continue this conversation if you don’t mind,” Kirby told him.
Dean shook his head. “There’s no reason to,” he replied tightly as he pushed off the desk and went to open the door.
“Yeah, there is.” Kirby thought for a minute. “I’ll meet you at the coffee shop on First and Main. What time?”
“No time,” Dean growled.
Kirby chuckled. “Guess I’ll just have to ask someone else when the rehearsal will be over then come back and wait for you.”
“No fucking way. Okay, with luck we’ll be finished by eight. I’m not saying I’ll meet you there but… I’m not saying I won’t.”
You will. Kirby's smile held a trace of amusement. Now you’re intrigued about why I want to talk more with you. Aloud he only said, “I’ll be there,” and left it at that.