Sedona Law 4 by Dave Daren (free ebook reader for ipad .txt) 📗

“Beowulf Vandergarten was your lover,” Chet began, “along with Chloe, and Juliana Spencer, and you all lived in a house in Brooklyn, New York, is that correct?”

“Yes,” she said.

“And all of you danced together in a touring production,” he continued. “And then you performed together at the Performance Arts Hall in Sedona, correct?”

“Correct,” she said.

“Then,” Chet said, “on that same night, Beowulf was found dead backstage, stabbed in the abdomen with a dagger known to belong to Julianna Spencer. Is this correct to your knowledge?”

“That’s right,” she said.

“Tell us what you know about the murder,” he said.

She turned to Neville, who nodded consent and then took a deep breath.

“On the night of the... incident…” she paused. “This is difficult for me, would it be okay, if I don’t say--”

“That’s fine,” Chet said.

“On that night,” her voice was soft, “I was in the green room on my phone, and I heard Chloe scream. Mr. Iakova was there, along with Mr. Irving, and Ms. Park, and a few others. Although, I didn’t know most of them, then. All of us went to go find out what had happened, and Chloe was so scared she couldn’t talk. Then, we went inside the dressing room to find Beyo on the floor. He was gone.”

“That was how you found out about the incident,” Chet said. “Is there anything that you can tell us about before the incident?”

“There were a lot of things,” she said. “There was Judith Klein there, and she threw paint on us. But, I have already told these things both to Mr. Irving and the police, and Mr. Irving’s office has it on tape. Please, let me grieve in peace.”

She began to cry, and if I didn’t have so much evidence against her, I would reevaluate the entire meeting. As it was, Chet looked to sympathize with her, and turned to me.

“Your witness,” he said.

I drew a long deep breath and then let it out slowly. I rose and paced the length of the room as I gathered my words.

“Olivia,” I asked, “Do you know Arizona State Senator John Malone?”

She looked at me and then at Neville.

“Where is this line of questioning going?” Neville’s nasal voice and manner overall made me shudder.

“It’s a simple question,” I asked. “I just want to know if she has any kind of relationship with the senator.”

His objection was valid however. Since Malone was more than likely footing Neville’s bill, he couldn’t let her deny her knowledge. But, admitting to that, would officially involve the senator in the case.

“I used to babysit his kids,” Olivia said.

“Really?” I asked. “The nanny, huh?”

I didn’t expect that answer. Did Neville come up with it?

“Yes,” she said. “I’m originally from Tucson, and he and his wife needed a babysitter, so they found me through a friend of a friend.”

“Who is this friend of a friend?” I asked.

“I don’t recall,” she said. “His wife had just heard of me.”

“And how long did you work for the Malone family?” I asked.

“Three years,” she said.

“And why did you stop?” I asked.

“Because I didn’t want to be a nanny anymore,” she said. “I wanted an adult life, an adult job. So, I got a job at Starbucks for a little while, and then it wasn’t long after that I found Ghoti.”

“Do you know Judith Klein?” I asked.

She looked uncomfortable. “I met her, yes.”

“Before the performance, had you ever met Judith Klein?” I asked.

“I knew her in Tucson,” she said.

“How?” I asked.

“She was friends with the Malones,” she said. “She came to the house a couple of times.”

“So,” I continued, “when you said that Judith Klein snuck in through your dressing-room window, you weren’t as surprised as you made it out to be. You knew exactly who she was.”

“Well,” she said, “I didn’t expect her to come crashing through the window, and I hadn’t seen her in years. It wasn’t until days later that I even remembered who she was. Even then, she was just an acquaintance of an old employer. It didn’t make a difference.”

“Right,” I said. “And what dressing room were you assigned to that night?”

“Uh, room C?” she said.

I pulled out the floor plans for the PAH.

“There is no window in dressing room C,” I said.

“Right,” she said, “because I was in Beyo’s dressing room when it happened.”

“Okay,” I said, “so you were not in your dressing room, you were in Beyo’s dressing room?”

“Correct,” she said.

“What were you doing in there?” I asked.

She smiled uncomfortably. “We were... lovers, as you say. Shouldn’t that be enough?”

I raised an eyebrow. “So, presumably Beyo was in the dressing room with you when Ms. Klein came in through the window.”

“No,” she said. “He had left the room.”

“Why?” I asked.

“I don’t remember,” she said. “He stepped out for a smoke, I think.”

I furrowed my brow. Her story was checking out too well. Either we had really screwed this up, or she was good at covering her tracks.

“So, the senator was your boss?” I asked.

“Yes,” she insisted.

“Did you leave on good terms?” I asked.

“How do you mean?” she replied.

“Did you get fired?” I asked.

“No,” she said.

“Was he displeased at all at your work performance?” I asked.

“No,” she said.

“A senator as an employment reference,” I mused. “That’s a big deal. Did he offer that to you, to be a reference?”

“Yes,” she said. “He wrote a letter of recommendation and said I could give any potential employer his number.”

“Then why didn’t he tell me this when I asked him about you?” I asked.

“This line of questioning is inconclusive,” Neville said. “How could she suppose what the senator is thinking?”

“She’s not on trial here,” I