CHAPTER TWENTY TWO

TWENTY TWO
“This is going to be a very expensive day,” I
said.
As if on cue, a phalanx of attorneys, men and
women, filed in.
“Who are those people?” asked Matt, though I
suspect he knew the answer before my response was
given voice.
“Lawyers from the unions, by the looks of
them; my production is being charged for their
time. I’m also being asked to pay wages for all these
people.”

“That’s insane.”
“That’s what passes for showbiz these days. In
my great grandfather’s day, actors weren’t even paid
for the time spent in rehearsal.”
Musicians and everyone else who was not
part of the first two groups admitted now took their
places in the center section of the auditorium. Due to
the fact that this is tech week, when lights are hung,
sets installed, costumes fitted, and so on, everyone in
the company was in the theater at the same time as
Danny the day before his murder. It was a big crowd
that was going to need some serious winnowing.
Tony and Detective Gallagher took the stage
while the company manager and assistant company
manager distributed clipboards and pens among the gathered faithful. Tony spoke from the stage, forceful and clear.
“Everyone please print your name, address and phone number on the pads now being passed out. This is for the detectives, so no goofing around, please. It’s going to be a long day and the sooner we get these lists, the sooner we can begin. I want to remind you, too, that we are here on a very serious matter. This is a murder investigation. Please keep that in mind and maintain some decorum out of respect for Danny Limm’s memory.”
A murmur of agreement rippled through the performers.
“We’re going to deal with members of Local One and members of the chorus first.”
A few groans were heard and a couple of actors’ hands shot up.
“I’ll let the police answer any questions.”
Tony turned to Gallagher.
“Detective, they are all yours.”
“Gus, do you really want me here? It looks like you’re wasting money by the wheelbarrow full already,” said Matt. “The detectives know not to question you and I’m guessing you’re smart enough not to talk about anything substantive with them unless I’m with you, right?”
“Right. I’ll call you if I need you.”
Matt nodded, turned his attention to his Blackberry, and left the theater.
Next at my elbow was Detective Swiecki.
“How’s it going from your point of view?” he asked.
“It’s costing me a lot of money. That’s how it’s going.”
“How so?”
I explained about the lawyers and the union wages.
“They can’t do that.”
It seems everyone but the unions were in agreement about that point.
Meanwhile, on stage, Detective Gallagher, prodded by anxious hand waving and questions from the stars of the show, was giving permission for those with private dressing rooms to adjourn there until someone came to get them.
“But don’t leave the building,” he admonished.
My phone rang and dozens of heads turned my way. Everyone else must have had theirs on vibrate. It was Jacob Macklin, my showbiz attorney. I turned my back on everyone and thumbed the phone and brought it to my ear.
“Hello,” I said as I strode towards the lobby.
Jacob asked how it was going.
“You’ve got to do something about the unions. There must be twenty lawyers here. At $400 each, that’s eight thousand an hour, Jacob. It’s insanity.”
“People are entitled to representation if they want it while being questioned by the police.”
“I’m not saying they aren’t. I just want to know why I have to pay for it.”
“Maybe you don’t. I’m working on it.”
“File for arbitration against every union with members on the show. I’m serious.”
I knew from experience that whoever files for arbitration usually prevails.
“I’ll be glad to have the department weigh in if it would help,” said Swiecki, who I then noticed was tagging along a step or two behind me.
Jacob said, “I’ll know if arbitration is really necessary by this afternoon. How long does it look like you’ll be there?”
“Days. Weeks. I don’t know. There are hundreds of people to question.”
“We’ll be done before midnight.” said Swiecki.
“The detective seems to think they’ll be done before midnight. It looks like this could be a hundred thousand dollar day, at the very least.”
“Wow,” said Jacob. “Okay. I’m on it. I’ll talk to you later.”
“Call me at the end of your day. Try and have some kind of good news, please.”
We disconnected.
“A hundred thousand dollars,” said the detective. “I’m very sorry, Mr. Windham. I had no idea.”
It was a little after two in the afternoon. My energy was at an extreme low point. I wanted to find a dark corner and curl up.
“Detective, I would like to sit down alone for awhile. If you need anything, Tony or one of the other managers will be glad to assist you.”
“Sure. Sure. No problem. Will we be able to reach you at home or your office?”
“I’ll be here in the theater, don’t worry. I like to stay close when other people are frittering away my money.”
Swiecki was at a loss to reply.
“You’ll be able to find me in the darkest corner of the balcony. I shall try and take a nap, if that doesn’t interfere with your investigation.”
Swiecki nodded. It was apparent that he was appalled at the waste of money. Not as appalled as I was, of course.