Deadly Overtures: A Music Lover's Mystery (5 page)

Chapter Five

A
LTHOUGH THE NEXT
day was Saturday, I didn’t get to enjoy the luxury of lounging around in bed. Once I woke up, my brain was far too alert for that. Thoughts of Pavlina and the theft of JT’s equipment kept swirling around in my head, leaving me restless and unsettled. Within minutes of waking, I threw back my covers and left their warmth behind, heading straight for the bathroom. As soon as I’d showered and dressed for the day, I checked my phone, hoping I might have heard from JT. I hadn’t.

I fixed myself a simple breakfast of toast and honey but could barely sit still long enough to eat it. As I washed my dishes and put them away, I considered using some of my restless energy to give my apartment a good clean. Before I had a chance to dig out my cleaning supplies, my phone chimed with the arrival of a text message. It was from JT, asking if I wanted to join him for a walk in the forest with his dog, Finnegan.

Smiling, I sent an affirmative reply, telling him I’d be at his place in ten minutes. Fresh air and time with my best friend and favorite dog sounded far more appealing than spending the day cooped up indoors cleaning. Although I wanted to ask JT what had happened at the theater after my departure the night before, I decided to wait. It would be easier to go through all that in person than via text messages.

Peering out my living room window, I noted the presence of frost on the grass, trees, and parked cars, wintry white crystals that winked and gleamed. It would be another chilly day, at least for the next few hours, though the sun was doing its best to break through the gray clouds overhead.

Slipping into a pair of flats, I pulled on a warm jacket, a pair of gloves, and a knitted, slouchy hat that would keep the worst of the cold away from my ears. Then I left my apartment and set off for JT’s house, located a short distance away from my Kerrisdale apartment.

Never a long trip, even by bus, the journey to JT’s place only took me about five minutes now that I had a car, and I arrived within the ten minutes I’d predicted. As I parked my MINI Cooper in front of JT’s white two-story house, he came out the front door with Finnegan, a leash attached to the collie-malamute’s collar.

“Morning,” JT called out as he and Finnegan came down the front steps to meet me.

“Morning,” I returned.

I crouched down so I could give Finnegan a big hug, his fluffy tail wagging enthusiastically. Once I’d ruffled his fur and he’d given me a wet kiss on the cheek, I straightened up and we set off in the direction of the forest that began at the edge of JT’s neighborhood and extended out to the campus of the University of British Columbia.

“Did you get much sleep last night?” JT asked as we walked.

“Surprisingly, I did all right,” I said. “Although I think I had a nightmare that I can’t quite remember.” Only flashes of fear and looming shadows remained from the dream, and I was glad of that. It wasn’t something I had any desire to recall in more detail. “How about you?” I checked his face for signs of stress or unhappiness, but while he wasn’t at his most relaxed, he seemed all right.

“It took me a while to fall asleep,” he replied. “But then I got a few solid hours in.”

I tucked my arm through his as we crossed the street and entered the forest, following a wide, well-used path. “What did the police have to say about your equipment?”

JT grimaced. “Not much. They made a report and told me to keep an eye out on Craigslist and other online classified sites. Most of the equipment was inscribed with my driver’s license number, but that only helps to identify it as mine if the police find it.”

“And you don’t think they will?” I guessed.

“The police didn’t seem too hopeful so I’m not going to hold my breath.”

“I don’t suppose the thief or thieves were caught on security camera.”

“No,” JT confirmed. “There’s a camera in the alley pointed at the stage door and another one that covers part of the lot, but not where my truck was parked. And whoever the thief was, they were aware of the cameras and stayed out of their range.”

“That’s so . . . argh,” I said, frustrated. “Are you mad at Cameron?”

JT paused to unhook Finnegan’s leash so he could bound about freely and sniff all the interesting smells along the path. “A little. I wish he’d been more careful, but I know he feels bad about it, and it’s not like I’ve never forgotten to lock my truck before. Just never with lots of expensive equipment in the back.”

A middle-aged couple with a toy poodle approached us from up ahead. JT and I exchanged pleasantries with them while the two dogs gave each other a thorough sniffing before moving on.

“I’m a bit mad at Cameron too, on your behalf,” I admitted once we were on our own again. “But you’re right—it was an unintentional slip-up on his part and he did seem to feel really bad about it.”

At least, I hoped it was unintentional. Suspicions crept into my thoughts, but I ignored them for the moment.

“And it’s only equipment that was lost. Ultimately, it can all be replaced and nobody was hurt. That’s what’s most important.”

I couldn’t argue with that, especially after what had happened to Pavlina—whatever that was, exactly. The theft was inconvenient for JT, but not disastrous. At least it wouldn’t be disastrous if he could still complete the job at the theater.

“What are you going to do about recording the concert next week?” I asked.

“I talked to a buddy of mine this morning, one I met in a sound engineering course a few years back. He’s got some equipment he can loan me for a couple of days. Together with some of the spare stuff I’ve got lying around, that should get me through this job, at least.”

“That’s good,” I said with relief, glad he’d found a solution to the most pressing problem. “Did anything else happen at the theater after I left?”

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. Maybe something to do with Pavlina?”

JT shot me a glance full of what I thought was unwarranted suspicion. “Her body was taken away by the coroner.”

“But nothing else happened? You didn’t overhear the police saying anything about her death?”

“No,” JT said, the suspicion now leaking into his voice. “I didn’t go back inside after you left. I talked to the police out in the parking lot. Why?”

“No reason,” I said, trying to sound casual.

“Yeah, right.” The suspicion in his voice had transformed into outright disbelief. “What’s going on, Dori? What are you up to?”

“I’m not up to anything.”

“Why do I find that hard to believe?”

“I have no idea,” I said innocently.

JT watched me out of the corner of his eye as we continued to walk through the forest.

“Seriously, JT, I’m not up to anything. I’ve just been thinking.”

“Uh-oh.”

I released his arm so I could give it a swat. “Very funny.” I became more serious as I remembered the events of the night before in detail. “It’s just that I can’t help but wonder if Pavlina’s death was really an accident.”

“Why?” JT asked, surprised. “Was there something about her body that makes you suspect foul play?”

“Not her body, no.” I reached up to tug my left earlobe, wanting to share what I knew with JT but remembering that I was supposed to keep quiet.

“Something else then?” When I still hesitated, JT nudged me with his arm. “Come on, spill it.”

“Okay,” I relented, “but I’m not really supposed to say anything so don’t spread this around.” I glanced over my shoulder to make sure no one was within earshot, but we were alone on the forest path. “Fred, one of the maintenance guys at the theater, found blood on his hammer.”

We paused in the middle of the path as Finnegan stopped to sniff the base of a tree.

“And was the hammer found anywhere near the scene of Pavlina’s death?” JT asked once Finnegan moved on and we’d resumed walking.

“No, I don’t think so. It was in Fred’s toolbox, although I don’t know exactly where that was.”

“So maybe the blood has nothing to do with Pavlina’s death. Maybe Fred or another maintenance worker cut themselves while working sometime recently and didn’t notice that they got some blood on the hammer.”

“It could have happened like that,” I conceded.

“You find trouble easily enough as it is,” JT pointed out. “You don’t need to go looking for it.”

“I’m not,” I assured him.

“Good.”

I hooked my arm through his again and did my best to push all thoughts of Pavlina’s death from my head, at least for a while, focusing instead on the fresh air and JT’s company.

T
HE REMAINDER OF
my weekend was uneventful and I spent Monday in the usual way, teaching several of my violin students. Each day JT had checked the online classifieds, but so far he hadn’t had any luck finding his stolen equipment. With every day that passed I knew he became less hopeful of recovering the stolen items, and as his hope diminished so did mine. I tried to remind myself that it wasn’t the end of the world, however, and JT had taken the same attitude. Still, whenever I thought of the missing equipment, a flicker of anger at the person or people responsible made itself known for a second or two.

On top of that, the suspicions that had crept into my thoughts the other day hadn’t disappeared. Cameron easily could have been involved in the theft, but I didn’t want that to be the case. His involvement would only make the situation worse for JT. I tried my best to silence my suspicions, but they continued to whisper at me, regardless of my efforts.

When Tuesday evening rolled around I wrapped up my last violin lesson for the day, ate a quick dinner, and set off for the theater. That night we’d be rehearsing the compositions by Dongmei and Ethan, preparing for the performance scheduled for Friday. I was looking forward to spending the next couple of hours at the theater. I loved rehearsing with the orchestra and I knew from practicing on my own that I liked both pieces of music we’d be working on that night.

It was more than the music that I was looking forward to, though. I wanted to know if anyone knew more about Pavlina’s death, if it had been officially ruled an accident or if the investigation was still ongoing. Although my gut told me there would be no official ruling of accidental death, I still hoped that would be the case. It would bring closure and peace of mind to everyone involved, whereas the alternative was unsettling to think about.

When I arrived at the theater and made my way to the musicians’ lounge, I knew right away that I wasn’t the only one whose mind was on Pavlina’s death. There didn’t seem to be any other topic of conversation in the lounge, but although I spoke to Dongmei and some of my fellow members of the orchestra, no one seemed to know anything more than they had on Friday night. In fact, it seemed as though I was the one among us with the most information. Nobody else seemed aware of the blood found on Fred’s hammer and I kept that information to myself. Sharing it with JT was one thing, but I wasn’t going to feed that potentially frightening tidbit into the orchestra’s rumor mill.

With people still chatting all around me, I left the lounge to take my place on the stage. I spent the next several minutes tuning my violin and warming up by running through a few passages of music. Shortly after Mikayla settled into the seat next to me, Hans approached the conductor’s podium at the front of the orchestra. The last straggling musicians took their seats and bit by bit everyone fell silent, all our gazes resting on Hans. He had creases of worry across his forehead, and his face was set in a grim expression.

He cleared his throat before addressing the orchestra. “In light of the tragedy that occurred last Friday night, there has been much discussion over the past few days regarding how to proceed with the competition. However, the judges, the organizing committee, and our board of directors have decided to continue as planned. The remaining finalists have worked hard to get to this point and we don’t wish to deprive them of the opportunity to advance their careers through this route.”

He paused, and a few quiet murmurs ran through the orchestra. However, the buzz of voices broke off again when Hans resumed speaking.

“We do wish, of course, to honor Pavlina’s memory, and we’ve decided that we’ll observe a moment of silence at the beginning of the finale concert next Tuesday.”

He paused again and glanced toward the wings of the stage. When I followed his line of sight I spotted the two detectives I’d seen after Pavlina’s death. Again, they were both wearing suits. One stood well over six feet tall and had broad shoulders. The other was smaller and more compact, but still imposing with his steady dark gaze.

“Now,” Hans said, recapturing my attention, “before we get started tonight, the detectives in charge of the investigation into Pavlina’s death would like to have a few words with you.” He nodded at the approaching detectives and stepped away to allow them to take his place in front of the orchestra.

“Thank you, Maestro Clausen,” the taller of the two detectives said. He then addressed us musicians. “Good evening. I’m Detective Van den Broek.” He gestured to the other detective. “And this is Detective Chowdhury. I’m sure you’re all aware of the unfortunate death that occurred here in the theater on Friday night. While the incident first appeared to be a tragic accident, we are now conducting a murder investigation.”

A couple of people gasped, and Mikayla and I looked at each other with wide eyes.

“Murder?” she whispered.

Others around us were voicing similar exclamations of surprise and dismay.

As the rumble of voices reached a crescendo, Detective Van den Broek raised a hand and called out, “If I could have your attention again, please.”

Slowly, the conversations faded away, although the shocked expressions remained on the faces around me. When the last of the noise had dwindled away, Detective Van den Broek spoke again.

“This is, of course, a very serious matter, and I can assure you that we’re working hard to solve this case. But in order to do so, we need the help of any witnesses who might have seen or heard anything that could move our investigation forward. If anyone knows anything or saw anything remotely suspicious on the night of Ms. Nicolova’s death, we ask that you please let us know. Even if you’re not sure of the significance of your information, please share it with us. Detective Chowdhury and I will remain here at the theater throughout the evening. If there’s anything you would like to speak to us about, please approach us after the rehearsal.”