37. Sean
SEAN
Knock. Pause. Tap. Tap. Tap. Pause. Knock.
“Come in, Emily.”
“How did you know it’s her?” Lowri asks.
Emily walks in and, hearing Lowri’s question, answers, “I wanted a signature knock to signal that I’m alone.
If a senior-level employee is pestering me to interrupt Sean, I use a different pattern.
If Sean doesn’t want to be interrupted, he ignores it, and I tell the visitor that he must have stepped out and offer to schedule an appointment.
If they don’t know Sean’s here, it’s easier to send them away. ”
“It saves all of us time. Too bad we didn’t figure out this system sooner,” I say.
“Do you need anything before your meeting with Daniel? Did you need me to sit in and take notes?” Emily asks.
“No, we’re good. Please make sure we’re not interrupted though,” I say.
“Consider it done,” Emily confirms as she leaves.
I call after her, “You can leave the door open for Daniel.”
Daniel arrives five minutes early, laptop under his arm. He joins us at the conference table, saying, “Thanks for rearranging your schedule. It’s important that you see this as soon as possible.”
He opens his laptop, connects it to the 70-inch display on the wall at the end of the table, and pulls up a presentation.
“We have several items to cover. I’ve organized everything into a few PowerPoint slides to make it easier.
If you don’t mind, I’d like to start with your question about the guy who claims to be an attorney named Taylor Williams.”
“Did you identify him?” Lowri asks.
“Yes. We isolated his image, and using our facial recognition software, we found a match. Let me show you. Here’s the photo we extracted from the video of your meeting with him. It matched with this image,” he says, pointing to side-by-side images on the display.
“Oh my god, that’s him,” Lowri says.
“Who is he?” I ask.
“He’s an actor. His real name is Dylan Greyson.”
“That explains why he had such a limited knowledge of the law and negotiation tactics. Someone must have hired him to play Taylor Williams.”
“It also explains why someone hacked the real law firm’s website—to hide that he’s not the attorney. If you couldn’t easily find the photo of Ms. Williams, there would be no reason to suspect the person you met was a fraud,” Daniel says.
“Exactly. Dylan must have based his character on movies and television shows with a little help from Google,” Lowri says.
“How bizarre. Why would Mr. Galanis bring a fake attorney?” I ask.
“My guess is that either he’s a fake too, or he couldn’t afford a real attorney. I’m leaning toward fake given I couldn’t find any online connection between Galanis and Brentwood,” Lowri says.
“Someone needs to talk with Greyson today,” I say.
“We have an address for him. Do you want us to give him a visit or should we call Detective Fielder and have him follow up?”
“I’d prefer you visit him, but I suspect Lowri will tell us to contact the police. Am I right?” I ask, turning to face her.
“You are. If he’s part of a scam, you should inform the police.”
“You heard her. Get this to our detective friend ASAP.”
“Will do. There’s more though. We found additional videos of the tree prop before and during the performance where Mr. Brentwood fell.”
“What does it show?” I ask.
Daniel types on his laptop, and a video starts playing on the large screen on the wall.
“We’re looking at the area backstage where the tree was kept until it was needed onstage. Keep watching, and you’ll see one of the members of the stage crew approach the tree in a minute or so.”
With no audio to assist, Lowri and I closely watch the scene unfold in front of us. The dim, grainy video shows various performers and stagehands walking past. No one stops or pays attention to the prop.
“Get ready for it,” Daniel says.
A person in jeans and a blue polo shirt, imprinted with the Athena logo, walks up to the tree and opens the door in the trunk, disappearing inside.
“Is he loosening the screws?” Lowri asks.
“Not likely. See what happens next.”
A minute or two later, he comes out, shuts the door, and grabs a nearby ladder. He places the ladder next to the tree and climbs up onto the platform. We watch as he appears to inspect the railing, branches, and wiring.
“Oh my god, he’s stomping on the platform. Why doesn’t it give way?” Lowri asks.
“Because at this point, the platform is secure.”
“When was this video?”
“This was about thirty minutes before the doors opened for the audience to take their seats.”
“That means the tree was properly inspected before the show started. That’s good news,” Lowri says.
“So, what went wrong?” I ask.
“Take a look at this next video. It shows what happened about fifteen minutes before the tree was rolled onto the stage.”
A crew member, wearing a blue polo shirt like we saw earlier, slowly walks toward the prop, looking left and right. It’s not the same person who inspected the tree before the show. This person has a different build.
“That’s the person with the baseball cap who we saw in videos right before the other accidents occurred,” Lowri exclaims.
“What are they holding? Can you zoom in?” I ask.
Daniels complies and says, “There’s your answer.”
My jaw drops as I stare at the fuzzy image of a screwdriver.
“As you can see, it appears the platform of the tree was purposefully sabotaged, and this is who did it,” Daniel says, closing the video.
Shit.
I’m seething mad, fists clenching under the conference table.
“Who is the scumbag?”
“That’s still a mystery. We talked to Ron, and he doesn’t recognize the person in the video.”
“Did you run facial recognition?”
“We can’t. The person was careful to hide their face from the cameras.”
“I assume they couldn’t get backstage without being an employee of the Athena. Is that correct?” Lowri asks.
“Not unless someone snuck them in, or they work for one of our outside vendors.”
“How would they have gotten one of the shirts?”
“Those are easy to come by. They keep a stack of clean shirts backstage. The crew members leave their dirty ones to be laundered and grab clean ones each week.”
“So how do you propose we figure out who the killer is?” I ask.
“Everyone who works on the production enters the theater through the same entrance. We’re in the process of pulling the videos for all the days where there were incidents involving this person in the baseball cap.
We’ll watch to see when someone matching this description entered the theater and cross-reference their entrance with the employee ID card that was scanned at that time.
It’s going to take a few days to go through all the tapes to make sure we have the right person in each video and determine whether they use the same ID each time.
Eventually, this process should lead us to the person who killed Mr. Brentwood. It’s going to take time though. You’d be surprised at how many crew members wear baseball caps. We have to sort through hours of video.”
“Understood. Also pass this info along to Detective Fielder. It will confirm he’s dealing with murder rather than an accident. He also needs to know that this actor—Greyson—may be involved in something more dangerous than a mere money scam.”
“Yes, sir. I’ll take care of it. Before I leave, there is one other thing. It’s the red flag I mentioned.”
“I’m not sure I want to hear about anything else but go ahead.”
“You know those two Rossi guys who were hassling one of our employees.”
“Yes, what about them?”
“They were at the performance. They had VIP tickets to meet the performers after the show.”
“How do you know?”
“I had the IT team run a facial recognition program to look for them anywhere on the property in the last month. It’s been running continuously, and this popped up overnight. When we pulled up the video, they were sitting in the VIP section at the performance.”
“Are you telling me they had something to do with the sabotage?”
“We’re not sure. It’s certainly suspicious.”
“What happened after the show? Did they go backstage?”
“No, the VIPs were told the backstage tour was canceled due to an accident. They were offered tickets to a future show instead.”
“Paxton Rossi assured me that his guys were not supposed to be here, so why do they keep turning up?”
“Who knows? It doesn’t make sense that the Rossis would be involved in sabotaging your show. It’s not their usual type of business. We’ll figure it out though.”
“Do that and quickly. Also, make sure that those guys don’t darken our doors again. Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir. We’re circulating their photos to everyone via text. If they show up, they will be thrown out.”
“Get answers from them first. Find out why they’re here in the first place.”
After Daniel leaves, Lowri and I sit in silence, processing what we have learned.
A confused look crosses Lowri’s face as she asks, “Why would the mafia threaten your performer and kill someone from your audience?”
“It doesn’t make sense to me. I’ve known Paxton Rossi for years. I met with him recently to sort this out. He swore to me that his family is essentially legit now and that those guys should not be here.”
“Do you suspect he was lying?”
“I didn’t think so, but we haven’t been as close as when we were in college.
He could be more like his father’s generation than I thought.
It’s possible that Mr. Brentwood owed him money too and was targeted.
If that were true, then I’d be shocked if Paxton wasn’t consulted before it happened.
However, when we met, I didn’t get a sense he was lying. ”
“What about the earlier mishaps? How do they fit in?”
“Your guess is as good as mine.”
“What if the killer, or killers, intended the murder to look like another in a string of accidents? But, if that was the plan, how did they arrange for Mr. Brentwood to be the audience member selected to go on stage?” Lowri asks.
“I don’t see how they could have unless someone here at the Athena made that happen.”
“If you wanted to arrange for a friend of yours to be the one selected, what would you do?”
“That’s easy. I’d have Emily take care of it.”
“How much do you trust Emily?”
“Completely.”
“There’s rarely anyone who deserves that level of trust. Be careful. Watch your back.”
“Don’t worry. I’m always careful.”
“Would a performer in the show or someone in the ticket office have access to the ticket? Could they give it to a friend?”
“Occasionally, that would be possible. It depends on whether we need it for a VIP.”
“I see. I’m off to analyze the will. Don’t forget to email me Mr. Brentwood’s driver’s license when Fielder sends it.”
“Will do.”
I stand and give Lowri a quick hug and a peck on the cheek.
As I enjoy the view of her perfect ass walking toward the elevator, I’m left to wonder about my trust in Emily.
She has been asking questions about Mr. Brentwood’s death and offering to take an active role in solving the mystery.
Is it possible she’s trying to steer the investigation away from herself?
I shake my head. That can’t be. This isn’t a thriller movie where my efficient, dedicated assistant turns out to be a villain. Emily’s only trying to help. Besides, she doesn’t have any connection to the Rossi family, and clearly, they must be behind this one way or another.