So, the man’s bitter.
“As for Jeffrey and I, we were close back then, good friends. The back-slapping, heavy drinking, lots of fishing in the summer and ice hockey in the winter, kind of friends. You know, when Eleanor told me about his murder, I can’t say I was surprised. I figured his womanizing would do him in some day. But the news of Catherine’s murder, now that was a shock. I can’t imagine anyone hating her enough to kill her.”
He stopped talking and stared off into space. Shirley knew it was best not to fill the silence. She lowered her head and wrote in the notebook.
“I didn’t know the third victim; do you think you have a serial killer on your hands?”
“We’re not sure at this stage, Mr. Sutton. Your wife, Eleanor, was she close with Jeffrey?”
“A kind way of asking if I thought she had an affair with him. No, she didn’t. That would require a degree of passion and caring on her part.”
“You divorced two years ago. Was it an amicable?”
“I wouldn’t say it was amicable but it was necessary. The two of us had different interests. She focused on her career and I focused on my business. We failed in our marriage and as parents.”
“Your daughter, Sybil, she died around the time of your divorce, didn’t she?”
“Yes, in a stupid, senseless car accident. She was driving too fast, failed to make the corner, and went over an embankment - killed instantly. Something terrible happened to Eleanor after our daughter died. She was a bit indifferent as a parent, but she took her death hard. I miss Sybil and I regret not being a good parent. I know I don’t deserve it but I have been given another chance. I’ve remarried and my wife is expecting her first child.”
Shirley looked at the two silver framed pictures on his credenza; one was of a stunning brunette woman and two small children; the other was a picture of an attractive teenage girl.
“Is that a picture of Sybil?”
“Yes.”
“A beautiful girl. What a tragic loss.”
Sutton sighed and glanced at his watch.
“I won’t take up anymore of your time Mr. Sutton. I will leave my card with your P.A. If you think of anything, no matter how insignificant or trivial it may seem, please give me a call.”
They stood and shook hands. He took the card and put it in the top drawer of his desk.
Chapter 17
“I’ll take my car, Kate”, Withers said. “The back seat will accommodate our person of interest better than your sports job.”
Withers sped across town to the theatre. Kate tried to make sense of the news. A match on the gun the killer used to shoot at Hanya. It belonged to Henry Ward.
“I find it hard to visualize Henry stalking a woman and taking a pot shot at her, let alone killing three people”, Kate said.
“We have evidence and it’s solid; you can look at the registrations papers if you need to”, Withers said.
“No, I don’t need to”, Kate snapped. “It doesn’t make him the shooter. Someone must have stolen it.”
“And who do you think set Henry up?”
“I know it’s a woman behind the killings. The poison, the revenge theory, trolling the homeless looking for a killer, all the ear marks of a woman. She set Henry up.”
“What woman?”
“I don’t know yet. But I will find her. I know I’m right.”
Withers looked worried.
“I know how valuable cops’ instincts are but I believe you are mistaken. It might be best if you weren’t part of the interview team, Kate. Your scepticism may interfere.”
“No, I want to take part. My record should indicate my professionalism.”
Withers said nothing; he was fond of Kate, but leery of her volatility.
Pulling the car up in front of the theatre, Withers placed the police card in the window and the two entered the building. Withers nodded to the cleaner who was vacuuming the front foyer of the theatre. They entered the main body of the theatre and walked down the centre aisle. A group of four people stood centre stage and three more sat third row back, centre aisle.
“I don’t believe this”, Charlotte said. “Bad enough there’s a manic trying to kill off everyone connected with the theatre without the police interfering with the rehearsals. We go live in two evenings. Enough is enough.”
Andrew, Eleanor, and Henry turned in their seats and looked at the two officers.
“Good afternoon folks”, Withers said nodding at stage and the three seated in the third row. “Sorry to interrupt.”
“Good afternoon, yourselves officers. This is a surprise. I wish I could say it was a pleasant one”, Henry said.
“Well said, sir. I’m sure you won’t find it a pleasant one indeed. We’re here to escort you to the station.”
Deadly silence, every ear straining to follow the conversation.
“Really? Is this something I need to call my lawyer about?”
“That’s up to you, sir. We’re just here to bring you along.”
“Tell you what. I don’t really need a drive. My car is parked around the corner. I’ll finish up the scene with these good people and drive straight down. Promise.”
Kate, losing patience, spoke.
“Impossible. You need to you accompany us back to the station now.”
Henry turned to Andrew. “Finish up the scene while I go see what this is all about.”
“Anything I can do for you Henry? Do you want me to call your lawyer”, Eleanor asked.
“No, thanks, I’ll manage. You and Andrew see to the rehearsal. Opening night’s drawing closer and they haven’t nailed it down yet.”
He turned to Kate and Withers.
“Do you think it would be acceptable if I followed you to the station in my car?”
“Well, that might work if we switched up
