47. Sean
SEAN
I t’s surprising how often a casino faces the need to question someone or hold them until the authorities arrive and haul them away.
We’ve had to deal with employees who get greedy and pocket gaming chips, gamblers who decide they can cheat, and guests who get out of hand after imbibing too many free drinks at the slot machines.
Dad had the wisdom when he built the Athena to include a couple of police-station-style interrogation rooms fitted with a wall of one-way glass and recording equipment.
In sharp contrast to the Athena’s sumptuous luxury, Dad also insisted upon cold, bleak furniture: a simple metal table bolted to the floor, a bar across the top of the table to handcuff an unruly guest to, and hard metal chairs. No room for comfort here.
Lowri, Daniel, and I watch through the one-way glass as Detective Fielder questions a crying, shaking Amelia.
After reminding her of her rights, he says, “Please state your full name for the recording.”
“Amelia Rae Graham.”
Amelia Rae? A.R.? Is she the gambler who’s in debt to the Rossis? It must be a coincidence. Paxton said it was a guy who owed them money.
“Tell me about your relationship with Mr. Brentwood,” Fielder says.
“There’s nothing much to tell. He was a cheating bastard.”
“Is that why you broke up?”
“Yes. I found out that he was also having an affair with a man.”
“Was that Mr. Galanis?”
“Yes. He’d previously introduced him as a friend. I later learned what he meant. It didn’t matter who it was though. All that mattered was that he lied to me.”
“So, you hated him.”
“I despised what he did to me. He said we were going to be married, but it was all a lie.”
“How did Mr. Brentwood get a ticket to the show?”
“I gave it to him.”
“Why did you give him a ticket after you broke up?”
“I gave it to him a couple of months ago—before we broke up. It was a birthday present.”
“I see. Did you know that whoever sat in that seat would be invited to the stage to participate in the show?”
“Yes. I wanted him to feel special and be part of the show with me. When we broke up, I tried to get the ticket back, but the asshole refused to return it.”
“Is that why you arranged for the tree’s platform to break when he was standing on it?”
“I didn’t have anything to do with that. He just fell.”
“No. Someone tampered with the platform. That’s why he fell. It’ll go easier on you if you tell me the truth now. You loosened the screws holding the platform in place, didn’t you?”
“Of course not. I didn’t like Brentwood.
He’s a piece of shit, but I’ve moved on.
I’m dating a fantastic guy who is a million times better.
He’s considerate, handsome, attentive, and has more money than he needs.
I didn’t know it at the time, but Brentwood did me a favor.
I never would have met Sergio Martinez if Brentwood hadn’t cheated on me. ”
“When Brentwood didn’t return the ticket to you, didn’t you see it as a chance for payback?”
“That wasn’t important to me.”
“Be honest. Who wouldn’t want a little revenge after being treated that poorly?”
“He wasn’t a nice person, but he didn’t deserve to die.”
“You staged the accidents, including one where you were supposedly injured. You intended Mr. Brentwood’s fall to look like another mishap. He deserved it for cheating on you. But it all went wrong, didn’t it?”
“I don’t know anything about the accidents except that I was stabbed with a bunch of sharp pins that were left in my costume, and several other people suffered injuries.
I’ll admit that there were more accidents than I would have expected, but they were the result of carelessness.
Regardless, I didn’t have anything to do with the injuries onstage.
I certainly didn’t do anything to harm Mr. Brentwood. ”
“Come now. You wanted to see him suffer for what he did to you, right?”
“I never wanted to see him again, but I didn’t need revenge.
Why would I risk screwing up the rest of my life when I have a dream job and a fantastic boyfriend?
It makes no sense. Don’t you have a video of the person who did this?
There are cameras everywhere. No one would get away with messing with the props. ”
“I see you’re aware of all the cameras. We do have videos. Look at this photo. During the show, you were caught on video at the tree with a screwdriver. We’ve got you. You can’t deny what you did.”
“That’s not me. I don’t wear baseball caps.”
“Then who is it?”
“There are more than two hundred people involved in the production of the show. It could be any of the performers with blond hair or someone from the crew.”
Detective Fielder leaves the room and joins us, saying, “She’s a cool one.”
“Are you sure you’ve got the right person? If she’s happier now without Brentwood, why would she hurt him?” Lowri asks.
“It’s not unusual for someone to seek revenge when they’ve been wronged, even if their current life is better.
The ‘accident’ was premeditated. She’s had plenty of time to prepare a cover story.
We’ll take her to the station, and her situation will become even more real to her.
If she keeps talking before she lawyers up, she’ll eventually trip up and say something inconsistent. They always do.”
“Before you leave with her, can you ask about her gambling on football? We’ve learned that one of my employees named A.R.
owes the Rossis a rather large sum. We thought it was a man, but since she said her name is Amelia Rae, I’m not sure.
Daniel, do you have a photo of the Rossi guys who were at the show?
The detective can see if Amelia recognizes them. ”
“Give me a minute, boss. I’ll print one,” Daniel says, walking over to a computer as we watch Amelia through the one-way glass. She’s fidgeting nervously, eyes darting around the room.
With the printout in hand, Detective Fielder rejoins the suspect. “I only have a couple more questions for you. Who’s your favorite football team?”
“Huh? Why does that matter?”
“Just answer the question, please.”
“I don’t have a favorite.”
“Don’t you like football?”
“Sergio loves it. I’ve watched games with him. I don’t know much about it though.”
“When was the last time you saw these guys,” he asks, laying the photo on the table and pushing it toward Amelia.
“Who are they?”
“You tell me.”
“I don’t know them. I’ve never seen them before.”
“Weren’t they at the show to meet you? You owed them money from gambling on football.”
“I told you that I don’t know anything about football. Why would I gamble on it?”
“Maybe you were placing bets for Sergio. Is he a fan of the LA Tigers?”
“I don’t know if he likes the Tigers. He follows the Las Vegas team, whoever they are, but we don’t gamble.
I don’t know the guys in the photo. I didn’t harm Brentwood.
This is all absurd. You’ve made a major mistake.
Since you won’t listen to the truth, I’m not saying another word until I get a lawyer. ”
“Fine, but you’re making this whole situation harder on yourself.”
Amelia is true to her word and sits there silently, glaring at Fielder.
Fielder opens the door to the interrogation room and signals for two officers to take Amelia away before he joins us in the viewing room.
“What do you think?” I ask.
“I’d be shocked if she knows anything about football, much less gambles on it.”
“Yeah, she didn’t know there isn’t a team named the Tigers in LA. That was a clever test,” Lowri says.
“A simple trick of the trade. It’s doubtful that she’s your gambler even though the initials match.”
“I agree. It would have been too easy for the killer and the gambler to be the same person. At least we no longer have a murderer running loose here. Unfortunately, we still don’t know which employee is involved with the Rossis.”
“Don’t worry—criminals slip up. They’re not as smart as they think they are. We’ll let you know when this is all wrapped up. In the meantime, your show can reopen,” Fielder says as he departs.
“That’s good news. Will you open the show tomorrow?” Lowri asks.
“No. They need a couple of days to rehearse and give Amelia’s understudy time to practice.
Most importantly, they can’t use the tree, and I don’t want any audience members on stage anytime soon.
We’ve kept Mr. Brentwood’s death reasonably quiet, but the idea of reenacting the scene where he died would be morbid. ”
“I’m glad they’re rewriting that part of the show. If you don’t mind, I’m going back to your apartment to deal with my other work. I’ll have Walter bring me food. I plan to work straight through dinner. Want to grab a drink around 9:00 p.m. or so?”
“That works. While you catch up on work, I’m going to reach out to Paxton.
It’s time he helps us set a trap for this A.R.
person. I’ll also meet with Ron to discuss reopening the show in a few days.
Rehearsals can resume tomorrow morning, but I want him to walk me through his plans to rework the show without the tree prop.
I’ll text you where we can meet for drinks. ”
“Perfect. I’ll be ready for a change of atmosphere after being stuck at my laptop for several hours,” she says, walking away without any physical contact.
No kiss on the cheek. No quick hug goodbye.
Not even a simple squeeze of my forearm.
The absence of her touch leaves me with an emptiness.
The comfort she’s brought me in the last few days is gone.
She wasn’t cold or rude or even angry, but it’s different than before.
I don’t like it. And it’s all my fault for being such a jerk and messing up what we had.
Later tonight, I’ll find a way to fix my screw up with Lowri. Now, I must focus on identifying the gambling employee.
If A.R. is a true gambler, he or she won’t be able to resist the offer I have in mind for Paxton’s guys to put on the table. It will flush A.R. out into the open. Problem solved.
Why didn’t we come up with this idea sooner? Of course, there was a murderer to catch.