I arrived on time, picked up my tickets and all went well.

  After the performance, I took Barcelona to my place. She was very tired, and the aches and pains from the accident were now strongly kicking in. When she went into the bedroom the first thing she saw was the roses. She looked over at me and moisture began to blur her eyes. She kissed me, and said, "Sam, you're such a romantic and I love it. And I love you even more. Thank you so much."

  I gave her a pair of my PJs and she went right into the bathroom to change. The night's performance had taken a toll on her. When she came out she went straight to bed. I didn't argue, although I was hoping to have some conversation with her. I wanted to tell her of my love, even though I knew she already knew it. I couldn't help myself. Every chance I got I would instill my love to her.

  As I stood in the bedroom doorway, Barcelona fell asleep very quickly right in the middle of my asking her about Brenda Summers, her understudy. I wanted to hear Barcelona's opinion of her.

  I closed the door gently and tiptoed out of the bedroom and called the Chief. I told him about Barcelona's ordeal that day in front of the bus, and her feelings that she believed she'd been pushed. The one thing I did get out of Barcelona before she fell asleep was that she had set up the cast meeting for the very next morning. She said they were all anxious to find out what was going on. The Chief told me he would be there, come hell or high water. I never did completely understand what that meant, and I still don't! I also told the Chief about my suspicion of Brenda Summers, Barcelona's understudy.

  I had seen Brenda's name on the program for the performance that evening, which gave a glimpse of each of the characters in the play. This way I could watch her in her usual role whenever she was on the stage. I thought she had been very good in the second lead, which was a much larger part than I thought an understudy would have.

  Later when I asked Barcelona about this, she said that sometimes the second lead would be ready to take over the main character's part at any time. It was this director's wish that all members in the cast should be able to take over a part at any moment's notice.

  Friday

  The next morning the Chief and I met outside the theater. He was obviously intrigued as to which actress I was dating, but he clearly wasn't going to ask me outright. He was probably going to use his powers of deduction!

  First, we talked to the players, giving them an overall view of what was happening so far. We were careful not to mention the name of anyone who was a suspect, even though of course someone asked.

  Then we asked for any information that they could give us, especially regarding the night that Anthony Sparks was murdered. For instance, did anyone see someone back stage that they had not seen before, or anything that might be of some help, no matter how small or irrelevant it may be.

  That's when Brenda Summers spoke up. "I saw an older gentleman walking around. I'd never seen him before."

  The Chief asked, "Can you describe him to us? What was he wearing? Was he young, old, white, black, Asian? Any help you can give us would be greatly appreciated."

  Brenda thought for a moment, as though picturing the man in her mind. "He was aged about . . . sixty-five or seventy I think. White, and maybe in the neighborhood of six feet. He was bent over so it was hard to tell. He had grey hair and a darker mustache and beard. Dressed kind of shabby-looking with a floppy hat and beige coat. I remember at the time I wondered who he was and what he was doing back stage."

  The Chief turned to the other actors. "Did anyone else see this person?"

  Most of them shook their heads. I looked over at Barcelona. She smiled, shaking her head also.

  This gave the Chief an opportunity to ask Miss Summers if it was possible that we could talk to her privately, to see what else she might remember about that fatal night and the mystery man she said she saw. I knew he wanted to pick deeper into her memory, to see if she could recall anything else.

  She agreed, and the director who was there said we could use his office. We thanked him and the three of us adjourned there. Before we went inside, the Chief told the cast that he would not be long with Miss Summers, and for them to think about that night, and to talk to each other. Maybe someone else might have seen or heard something that would help us solve the case soon.

  Brenda Summers was very attractive. She had bright red hair, and on her it looked extremely good. She was a little older then Barcelona, and very sure of herself, which gave her a strong personality. You either liked her or you didn't, and the thought was that she didn't care either way. You could tell that was okay with her.

  I came right out with the question that was on my heart. "Miss Summers, where were you yesterday afternoon between eleven-thirty and twelve-thirty?"

  She looked startled, as though not expecting that sort of question. "I'm not sure why you're asking me, but to make you happy I'll certainly answer it. I was at the theater getting a fitting."

  "And did you see Miss Barcelona Jones there?"

  "Of course. We were both getting a new outfit for the play, so the costume director and seamstress called us both in. They said it saved them time if both of us came in together."

  "Did the two of you leave at the same time?"

  "I think so. Yes. We walked out of the theater together. Usually we walk the same way, but this time Barcelona said that she was bringing lunch to someone, so we departed in different directions."

  "Did you go straight home?"

  She looked puzzled rather than upset by my questions. "I stopped for coffee, than realized I'd left a bag at the theater with some items I'd been using before the fitting. On the way back to the theater I met some fans. I walked with them for awhile, and we were talking so much that I passed up the theater."

  The Chief broke in. "Who were the fans, and did you happen to see Miss Jones again?"

  "If you're asking for the names of those people, I don't know them. They were just fans, not friends. As for Barcelona, I did see her again. I guessed she also stopped, because she had a couple of bags with her. I suppose it was the lunch she was bringing to the person she was meeting."

  "Where did you see her?" This time I cut into the conversation.

  "She was on the corner, waiting for the signal to change to cross the street. I looked away for a moment then when I looked back I heard screaming and I saw a crowd gathering. I assumed they'd recognized Barcelona and were getting her autograph and taking pictures. This happens quite often to her. She's a big star on Broadway. I didn't want to add more confusion so I went back to the theater, picked up my bag and went home. I didn't realize what had happened until Barcelona shared with me about falling in front of the bus. She and I are very good friends."

  I was thinking to myself, Neat cover-up, Miss Summers. You had to admit to being there, in case we can produce an eyewitness. I knew she had had plenty of time to come up with a good alibi. Plus, I was thinking she could also have switched the stage gun for the real one that killed Anthony Sparks, and so was making up the story about the mystery man whom no one else had seen.

  "One more question, Miss Summers," the Chief was asking again. "Can you think of anything else about the older man you saw the night of the murder?"

  She thought for a little while. "I think so. Yes, I can. I don't know why I hadn't thought of it before, but when I saw him he smiled, and I could see that two of his front teeth were missing. It was strange and was as if he wanted me to notice, because when he smiled at me he put his tongue between his missing teeth so I would see the space."

  Chapter 33

  As Brenda Summers was leaving the director's office, the Chief asked her to please not tell anyone about our conversation, especially the part about the mystery man with the missing front teeth. She put her hand to her lips and sealed them off, as if she had an imaginary zipper, giving the motion of locking them with a key and then tossing the invisible key away.

  When we were alone, the Chief said, "Well, it seems I was wrong. Your date is definitely not Mi
ss Summers. She's not your type at all, so I guess it's the dark haired one."

  I just smiled and said nothing.

  "By the way, Sam, Mike Larson couldn't make it. He already had an appointment, but he did say he had no other clients in the show."

  We went back to the cast members and asked a few more questions. Since we weren't getting anywhere, we told everyone to go home and rest for the night's performance. No one was to leave town, and some time if in the future we met them again, hopefully we'd be able to give them some solid information -- or better yet, tell them that the case was closed.

  After the Chief left, I walked over to Barcelona. I thought she still looked tired. She asked me to take her home because she wanted to rest for a few hours before the curtain went up. I was disappointed, but knew it would be best for her. On the way to her home I asked if there was a time when the theater was ever empty during the day.

  She said she thought that it might be empty for an hour or so during the day, but wasn't completely sure. "There's probably always someone there, but they could be anywhere, even taking a nap at any given time."

  "Is the stage door always locked? And if so, how does someone get in if they want to come early?"

  "The four leads have keys, but we seldom use them. I've only used mine once. It was late at night around twelve-thirty and I'd forgotten my manuscript. It was at the beginning of the run and the director had changed two pages of dialogue and wanted us to perform changes on the next performance. I found the theater very spooky when there's no one around."

  "Remind me again: who are the four leads?"

  "John Ashland, Brenda Summers, and now it's James Thomas since he's moved up -- and of course me. This isn't always the case. I've been in some plays where no one has keys. But this director has many of his own ideas and he's one of the best. There's a good chance he'll be chosen to direct the movie. I hope he gets the go-ahead. He has a knack of bringing out the best from his players."

  "James Thomas? Was he there this morning for the meeting? I don't remember seeing him."

  "No, he didn't say what it was, but he was involved in something confidential today. Was kind of discreet when I asked him, so I left it alone. I'm not one who likes to pry into other people's business."

  "How about John Ashland? Was he there?"

  "No again. He said he had an appointment with his agent, Mike Larson,"

  I dropped Barcelona off and headed back to the jewelry store. The jeweler wanted to make sure that what he had done so far was to my liking.

  The ring I designed had a diamond in the middle of around five karats, with two rows of seven diamonds on each side. I remembered when I was a kid I went to church and the pastor said that the number seven represented perfection, or being perfect -- and that was what Barcelona was to me . . . perfect.

  Chapter 34

  Saturday

  The weekend was now upon us, which meant I would not get to see my true love. I went to the office on Saturday, going over my notes again.

  Brenda Summers had now joined the small list of suspects, but I still had nothing tangible. I called the Chief for help but he was not in. I remembered that because it was Saturday he was probably spending the day with his family.

  Thinking about family, I thought of the conversation I had with my folks the day before, when I called them to wish them a happy voyage.

  Dad had answered the phone. "Hi, Sam, We were just heading out the door. Here's your mother."

  "Hi, Sammy. I was just thinking about you. Thanks for calling."

  "Hi, Mom. Have a great time. And again, congratulations, and be careful."

  "Sammy, have you seen Barcelona lately?"

  "Yes, the Chief and I are working on the theater murders together, so I see her often."

  I still wanted to keep them in suspense until they returned, before announcing our engagement. I wanted to tell them in person and see their faces.

  "Oh, I was wondering if it was more than that." There was disappointment in Mom's voice. I had an urge of weakness to tell her. I was beginning to feel bad . . . but not that bad just yet!

  So I said, "It is possible, Mom. Keep praying, but I have to go. I don't want to make the two of you late and miss the ship. I just called to say have fun and to take care of each other."

  "We will, Sammy, we will."

  After thinking about yesterday's phone call, I went back to my notes, looking for a loophole in one of the suspects' statements. Whoever the murderer was, I knew he or she was very sharp in hiding evidence.

  I was so deep in thoughts when the phone rang I nearly jumped out of my seat. It was James Thomas, the new understudy for the male lead. He said he was sorry about missing the cast meeting the day before, and that he'd talked to Barcelona and she'd advised him to call me to set up an appointment. Of course this day was out, but sometime Monday morning around 11:00 would be good. We set the appointment up for that time here at the office.

  I started to write down questions I wanted to ask him, especially if he'd seen the elderly man walking around backstage on the day of the murder. I was sure he hadn't, because I was convinced the man was just a figment of Miss Summers' imagination, to throw us off guard.

  I lay on the couch in my office, took a long nap, and when I woke up it was dark. I walked home and on the way looked up at the marquee and thanked God for the woman's name that was on it in bold letters.

  I stopped off for dinner. I was starving, and believe it or not, still sleepy. By the time I got home I was ready for bed. I started to read the newspaper and promptly fell asleep.

  I woke up very early the next morning, Sunday. Way too much sleep I guess. I fiddled around and had my usual breakfast, dressed, and headed to the little church I'd gone to before, to thank God for putting Barcelona in my life. The people again were friendly and welcoming. To my amazement they remembered me from the last Sunday when I was there.

  There I was, sitting in a pew for the second straight Sunday. I actually was enjoying the service, even opening the hymnal and signing. My mother and father would have been so proud of me and so happy that I'd finally come back to the Lord -- as they would say -- and I was starting to believe that myself.

  My thoughts went back to Barcelona. I was wondering what she would think about all of this. Then my mind went back to the singing which soon stopped as the pastor got up to give his message.

  "Last Sunday we talked about thanking the Lord for giving you something or someone special. This morning my message is about loving that gift, and being completely satisfied with it."

  I knew that again I was going to love the message.

  Chapter 35

  Monday

  I was happy when Monday arrived, because I was going to see the love of my life. We had made plans to meet for a late lunch at my place. I'd given Barcelona a key the night she slept there. I told her I'd call her just as soon as I was through talking to James Thomas, the understudy for the male lead.

  He arrived on time, and turned out to be another of those likeable people. I guessed he was about eighteen. I remembered Barcelona saying he was young, handsome and talented. I didn't know anything about the talent part, but James was very handsome and, like I said, young.

  I asked him if he would like to make the movie of Murder on Broadway, especially in the male lead. I was curious to see how badly he wanted the part.

  He smiled. "I'd love to be in the movie, but when I went in to talk to the big guys they all said I was much too young to play the lead. I guess that looking young isn't always good. But I know when I get older I'll appreciate it. The real reason I wanted to talk to them was because I was hoping to play any character in the movie. I didn't really care how big or small the part was. I know this is going to be a very big movie and I want to be part of it."

  "Did you see anyone wandering around the back stage the day of the murder? Someone you'd never seen before?"

  He shook his head. "No, I don't recall seeing anyone. Is there someone special you'
re thinking of? If so, what did they look like? Maybe if I knew who it was I could be more help."

  I described the man that Miss Summers said she'd seen, not mentioning the missing teeth, and asked him to think back to that day.

  Again he shook his head. "I'm sure I didn't see anyone fitting that description."

  "So, James, why couldn't you make the meeting on Friday morning?"

  "My wife had a morning doctor's appointment that day."

  I interrupted him. "Your wife? How old are you anyway? I thought you were about eighteen."

  "I get that all of the time. I'm twenty-five, and I've been married a little over two years. We found out that my wife is carrying our first child and I wanted to go with her for her first appointment. We spent the rest of the day visiting friends and telling them of our blessings. If I'm a suspect of any kind, ask away with the questions. I don't mind."

  "No need. And, James, everyone is a suspect at the beginning of every murder case. But you can be assured that if your alibi is confirmed, you're no longer one of them. I need the name and address of your doctor and the time of the appointment. Of course, the Chief Inspector on the case may want to ask you some further questions, but it will be just a formality."

  After James Thomas left, I called Barcelona who was waiting for me at my place. When I had given her the key I told her she could use it at anytime, even when I wasn't there. It was walking distance from the theater and much closer than her place.

  I stopped off at the florist and bought just one red rose. I knew she had a bouquet at her place, and also one at my home. But I wanted to remind her again of how much I loved her.

  This time I put a card with it: Each time you look at this rose, be reminded that my heart belongs to you.

  Chapter 36

  My heart was doing flip-flops again as I got closer and closer to my home. I knew Barcelona was there waiting for me. When I opened the door and walked in, a delicious aroma filled my nostrils.

  "Hi, my love. Whatever you're cooking smells wonderful. I can't wait to indulge myself. It smells like Italian."

  "Right you are, 'my soon-to-be-husband.' It's an old family recipe. Meat balls like you've never tasted before, and penne with just the right amount of spices in the sauce to tempt you to have more than just one helping."