Final Act Dianne Yetman (popular ebook readers txt) 📖

elevators, came to see me all upset.  Her cat got out. I settled her in this office and took a quick look through the hall corridors.  I found it in the staff washroom, stretched out in front of the toilet, sleeping.  I was only away from my post 7 minutes tops.”

“What time was it when you went to search for the cat?”

“Sometime around 9 o’clock.”

“Did you notice anything when you came back to your post?”

“Yes.  I heard the bell ring as I entered the foyer and noticed someone get into the elevator.  I couldn’t tell if it was a man or a woman as their back was to me.  It seemed odd that someone would face the back of an elevator, doesn’t it?  Some folks, you never know where they come from. Had on a long black coat and one of those old fashioned fedora hats.  The elevator stopped at the 4th floor.”

“That’s Ms. Paul’s floor, isn’t it?”

He nodded.

This man’s blades need sharpening.

“Did you see this person come back down?”

“No, I didn’t and I was here the whole time.  Perhaps they left after my shift or stayed the night.  Hard to say.”

“Who did you see come off the elevator after this person went up to Ms. Paul’s floor?”

“There wasn’t a lot of lobby traffic. It was a quiet night.  Let’s see, there was Mrs. Cunningham, of course, then Mr. Nelson, a long time tenant, he came down to check his mail.  And a tall man, dressed to the nines who nodded hello, and a very slim, tall, elegant looking woman.  No one else came down.”

“Could someone using the stairwell bypass the lobby?”

“Well, yes, if they went to underground parking.”

A little oil on those blades wouldn’t hurt either. 

“Do you have a security camera?”

“Yes.  Hidden pretty well isn’t it?  It’s behind that moulding over the entranceway.”

“Is there one in underground parking?”

“Yes, as far as I know.”

“I’ll need those tapes.”

“Sure.  I’ll drop those by the precinct on my way home.  I live in the city, not too far away.”

“I’d appreciate it if you would give them to me when we finish our interview.  Do you have replacements?”

“”I’m not sure.  I’ll check.”

“Maybe you could get your man Arthur on it.”

He picked up his two way and gave Arthur the instructions.

Shirley handed him her card.

“Would also appreciate you giving more thought about anything else you may remember about that night.”

“Will do.”

She asked to see Ms. Pauls’ apartment.  It wasn’t part of her mandate but she wanted a glimpse into Camira’s life, her personality, and nothing would reveal it more than her living quarters.  She took her time examining every nook and cranny.  It was a saddened police constable that left the apartment - sad at the loss of such a beautiful, talented woman.

She thanked him Graham for his cooperation on her way out.  Expecting a parking ticket, she was pleasantly surprised to see an empty windshield.  She got into her car and made her way back to the precinct.  The faster I write this up, she thought; the faster it gets to Gordon’s desk.

When Shirley entered the precinct, she saw people scattered across the foyer like leaves tossed about by the wind.  They were dressed just as colourfully as well.  A large lady wearing bright orange was leaning into the face of a small man decked out in bright green.  A tired looking woman, dressed in black and gray, stood next to a tattooed, body pierced teenager, decked out in torn black jeans, a lime green sweater and yellow jacket. Standing off to the side was a tall, good looking man wearing a royal blue blazer, light grey pants and a cream coloured t-shirt sporting a ‘dare to imagine’ logo.

Shirley watched as Withers entered the foyer from the locked stairwell, glanced at the gathered crowd, opened the locked door to the plastic bubble and relieved the tired looking constable.  He looked out at the waiting people.  “Next”, he called.

***

Ten minutes later, the man in the royal blue blazer stood before Kate in her office and introduced himself as John Graham.  She motioned him to sit in Roger’s empty chair.

“Thank you for coming in Mr. Graham.  Sgt. Withers advised you have some information about Camira Paul.”

“Yes”, he said.  “Hanya George suggested I contact you.”

“How long have you known Camira?”

“Over 4 years. I was her agent up until she left modelling for acting.  Hanya called me yesterday afternoon at my office in Toronto to let me know about her death. I caught the early bird flight this morning.”

Tears welled in his eyes. Kate gave him a few moments.  He stared at a spot on the wall behind her head until the tears dried.

“I’m sorry for your loss.  She obviously was a close friend of yours.”

“Yes, we were close.  I’m here to tell you that she did not commit suicide.  Impossible, I can’t believe you people can actually think that.”

He glared at Kate, his captured target.

“The final results of the autopsy aren’t in yet but preliminary signs indicate a possible suicide.  The reason for her death will be confirmed by the Coroner’s office in the next day or so.”

“I can tell you right now what the result will be, either accidental death or murder. I was with her two nights before her death.  We had made arrangements to meet at our favourite restaurant after the play.  She was bubbling over with excitement and told me about her new job offer and was going to make flight arrangements as soon as the play wrapped. This was not a suicidal woman.  She had just gotten the biggest break of her career.”

“Did Camira use drugs?”

The unexpected question threw him.

“Why? What does that have to do with anything? Oh, never mind.  The answer is no”, he said.  “Not to my knowledge.  She drank white wine and even that was limited. She did say she would take the occasional sleeping pill, the non-addictive ones, when she was wound up from a performance.  Camira was