The Maestro Murdered
Chapter Twenty-Six
“Right on time as usual,” David said brightly as Sean walked quickly up to the front of the orchestra building. “How’d the meeting with Simmons go? Better than you expected?”
“Not particularly,” said Sean, entering the lobby with David and starting up the stairs to Stenke’s office. “He reacted in pretty much the way I thought he would when I said that some suspect bookkeeping on the part of the business manager might somehow be at the bottom of this.”
“Well, something’s got to break somewhere,” said David.
Approaching Stenke’s desk, Sean smiled grimly. “I wish I had a better idea of what we’re looking for. Scraps of paper, I guess, with names, dates and times. Anything that looks like Loreen Stenke could be writing down appointments.”
“One sheet or multiple sheets?” David asked.
“Could be either, I guess. Linda Eggert complained that Stenke would write things down on random sheets.”
“Random sheets it is.”
“Nothing on the top of the desk,” said Sean after filtering through several sheets of paper. “Try the lower drawer on the left. I’ll take the one on the right.”
Seconds later, David pulled a clump of papers from the lower drawer. “Eureka! I think we’ve struck the mother-lode.”
“What did you find?” Sean asked eagerly.
David placed the papers on the desk and began to sort them out. “A bundle of papers that may be relevant…about eight sheets, even paper-clipped together. Who said Loreen Stenke wasn’t organized?”
“Great! Do they have names, dates and times?”
“Unfortunately, most aren’t dated. They just say ‘Wednesday, 9:00,’ or ‘Thursday, 10:00’.”
“Names?”
“The ones on top only give first names or initials. Here,” said David, handing half of the sheets to Sean,” you take the bottom half.”
The two carefully scanned each sheet. After a couple of minutes, Sean broke the silence.
“Hello! What’s this?” he said, clutching one of the sheets in his fingers. “Here’s something that shows up quite a bit.”
David looked over. “What shows up?”
“One name in particular. Again and again, sometimes even twice in one day. And she’s scribbled some nasty things beside it. Look, it may be something, it may be nothing. It’s just too early to tell.”
David shrugged. “Suit yourself, but Elizabeth always tells me I’m a good person to bounce ideas off.”
Sean smiled. “I already know that, but I’ve got to wait for this one to ripen a little before I throw it at anyone. But in the meantime, there is something you can do for me.”
“Sure, what is it?”
“I’ve got a hunch and I'm going to play it. It may make both of us look foolish, but I’m going to take the chance. I’ve got to go and see Linda Eggert one more time and, David, I want you to organize a chamber music rehearsal.”
“A chamber music rehearsal? What are you talking about?”
“A rehearsal, for a small group of musicians from the orchestra. Tell them you've got a chamber music gig coming up at a nearby church—you know, one of those Sunday afternoon chamber music concerts that some of the wealthier churches occasionally sponsor as a fundraising event. Tell them that you're putting together a piano quintet for one of those concerts and you’re going to be looking at a brand new work…you know, a world premiere.”
“Ok, but...”
“Here's a list of people I want you to invite.” He swiftly scribbled a series of names on a half sheet of paper and handed it to David, who scanned it quickly. “Unless I miss my guess,” Sean continued, “ everyone on this list will come, either because they could use a little extra cash—especially with the rest of the orchestra’s season in serious jeopardy—or because they'll be curious.”
“I guess so,” said David, “but I don't really know everybody on this list that well. I'm not sure they will come.”
“As I said, it's a hunch. It might work and it might not.”
“Where do you want to have this rehearsal?”
“In the orchestra’s rehearsal hall. Do you think you can arrange it?”
“I can try. I think Alan Winston owes me a favor. He's going to want to be there, though.”
“Fine,” Sean said, as he shoved the papers into his briefcase. “The more the merrier.”