The Maestro Murdered
Chapter Eight
Chief Inspector Simmons glared intensely across his desk at Detective Sean McGill. “This is exactly why I wanted you to get on top of that robbery, Detective McGill.”
“I can understand that, Inspector. It’s certainly a tragedy, but not one which anyone could have predicted. I can’t really see any possible connection between this murder and the third-rate burglary I’ve been investigating.”
The inspector shook his head slowly. “But isn’t that the point? Didn’t I warn you all along that there might be more to that ‘third-rate burglary,’ as you put it?”
“Yes sir, you definitely made the point that I should try to penetrate under the surface.”
“And did you?”
“No, sir, I haven’t made much progress, although I must have interviewed more than a dozen people.”
“Well, it looks like you’re going to have to interview them all over again and the matter is one hell of a lot more serious this time.”
“Of course sir, it’s just that…”
“It’s just what?”
“Maybe I’m just being dense about this, but I still don’t think that there’s a necessary connection between the two crimes. I interviewed several people who didn’t think that the theft of a couple of old and mostly worthless violins was worth worrying about too much.”
The inspector grunted. “But there were also some people who seemed to think that it was a more serious matter…am I right? A matter that showed that someone had a deep-rooted hostility against the entire orchestra? Isn’t that what the orchestra’s business manager—Clemens, I think—is implying? And how about Carter, the chair of the Board and—unfortunately for us—one of the mayor’s greatest pals? Wasn’t that on his mind as well?”
“I haven’t seen Clemens yet. We had an appointment set up for yesterday, about the same time that the murder of Maestro Hauptmann was discovered. Wilfrid Carter said some mysterious things about possible plots against the orchestra but, to tell you truth, I didn’t take them very seriously at first.”
Inspector Simmons nodded. “I think the time has come to take them seriously, Detective McGill. Look… my point is simple enough. Is it possible that someone has a serious vendetta against the Philadelphia Philharmonic Orchestra and has now taken it one fatal step further?”
“Up until now I haven’t considered it likely, sir. I was aware of course that there was some tension over the matter of Loreen Stenke stepping down and Hauptmann taking over, but I didn’t really see what that might have to do with the earlier robbery. But I guess everything has to be on the table now.”
The inspector leaned forward. “Look, Sean, I asked you to be sensitive to the dynamics here and it doesn’t look like you’ve been very sensitive. And now we’ve got a very serious matter on our hands.”
“I understand, sir.”
“So what are your thoughts? You must have some preliminary notions on how to proceed.”
“It’s very early, Inspector, but based on the first statements given to the investigating officer, we are once again in a situation where everyone is totally in the dark. Once again, no one admits to being anywhere near the vicinity when the shooting took place. Everybody agrees that Hauptmann left the reception early, but that’s about it. Nobody saw or heard anybody, although the owner of a restaurant next door who was cleaning up at about 11:30 said he might have heard the shot.”
“But he did nothing.”
“I said, ‘might have’ heard something. It could have been a car, could have been something else. He was tired, wanted to go home. But he was willing to admit this morning that it was probably more than that.”
“A single shot killed Hauptmann?”
“In to the back of the head. Pretty close range apparently. The slug was probably a .22 based on the entrance wound. We’ll hear more later today.”
“And everybody—absolutely everybody—had cleared out after the reception? Nobody left around at all? Nobody thought to check on the elderly conductor?”
“Apparently Maestro Hauptmann was not the kind of man who liked to be ‘checked up’ on. He was a bit of a loner, you know.”
“How about the caterers? Presumably they hung around for a while after everyone else left?”
“Apparently the clean-up crew for the caterer had just finished packing up and were gone by 11:00. Nobody else was there. The orchestra’s manager, Alan Winston, discovered the body this morning at 8:30. He was alone and claims that neither he nor anyone else had any idea that Hauptmann had decided to go back to his office last night after the reception. Winston couldn’t imagine any reason why he could.”
“Maybe not,” said Simmons, frustration spreading across his face. “but—my God—you said that there might have been seventy-five people at the reception last night. I’ll bet one of them knows why Hauptmann stuck around and if anybody else stuck around with him.”
McGill nodded his head. “We can certainly hope so. I’ve got a long list of people to interview starting in about half an hour.”
“Okay, no reason to sit around here with me, not if you haven’t got anything to say. But I want results, Detective McGill, and I want them soon. We had people in city hall worried about this when it was a two-bit robbery. I can just imagine what we’re going to hear from them now that one of the leading citizens in the city has been shot in the head.”