The Colors of Hate - 21

“He’s everyone from the President’s half-brother to an alien from Planet Z,” Reid groaned as he hung up on yet another caller who swore they knew who the man was in the newspaper sketch.

“Tell me about it. But somewhere in all the calls and emails, there might just be a name which really belongs to him. So we have to keep weeding through them and hope.” Kirby clicked delete then moved on to the next email, muttering ‘possible’ as he read it then moved it to the right file. He deleted another one that claimed the man was the next door neighbor of the writer, who lived, they said, in an ashram in the Himalayas. Then his private phone chimed.

“Hi, I wondered if you’d call,” Kirby said to Dean, after he saw his name come up on the screen and answered. He listened for a moment then said, “Stay there, we’ll be right over. You’re positive?”

Reid listened, one eyebrow cocked in question. As soon as Kirby had hung up he asked, “What?”

“Mr Travers says he knows who the man is.”

“Well, what are we waiting for,” Reid responded as he grabbed his jacket and headed to the door.

Ten minutes later they pulled up in front of the theater. Kirby jumped out as soon as Reid pulled into the ‘No Parking’ zone, hurrying across the sidewalk to where Dean was stood in the shade of the awning over the wide front doors. He looked pale, but composed.

“Rehearsal over?” Kirby asked, knowing seconds later it was a stupid question as it was only mid-afternoon.

“No. I have one of my assistants taking notes.” Dean waved the newspaper he was holding in front of Kirby’s face. “I do know him.”

“Who is he,” Reid asked when he joined them.

Dean kept his eyes on Kirby as he said, “A member of the CVA. He works closely with my father.”

“You’re positive?” Kirby replied quietly.

“Oh yeah. Definitely.”

“Why would he…”

“Let’s take this somewhere less public,” Reid broke in.

Dean took a deep breath and nodded. “My office?”

“That works.”