are at Daily Bread. The onlookers are at Finnegan’s. I want us to come up with a list of questions so we’re all covering the same pertinent information. Laurie will get copies to everyone. But in addition to the answers, I want you to be watching for body language, any behavior that would indicate the interviewee is either lying or holding something back.”
Nods of understanding from his officers punctuated Gordon’s remarks. He went on.
“We have the body of Marianna Spellman discovered in the wardrobe RV at oh seven-fifty-two. The last persons we’re aware of in the RV are the wardrobe manager, Yolanda Orozco, and Mai Phan, one of the actors. Mai claims another actor, Ian Patrick, had been in there prior to her arrival, which was at approximately oh six-thirty.” Gordon picked up the list of names from production security and confirmed the man had arrived, but there were no times. He had a black check, not a blue X, so he hadn’t arrived on the bus.
“We need to know what time everyone arrived, where they went, who they spoke to, whether or not they saw Marianna Spellman, and what they thought of her. In addition, Yolanda Orozco, the wardrobe manager, wasn’t with the group at Daily Bread or Finnegan’s, and neither was Ian Patrick. See if you can garner any information as to their whereabouts.” He peered over the list he was holding, then made eye contact with each officer in the room. “And nobody, absolutely nobody, breathes a word to the media. Not the Mapleton Weekly , not the Denver Post, not even the high school paper. Anyone caught speaking to a reporter, be it print, electronic, or television will answer to me. Is that clear?”
A resounding “Yes, Sir,” came from the group.
After taking suggestions from the floor, he sent Laurie to print copies of the questions and asked to see Jost. The officer followed him to the rear of the room.
“When you and Gaubatz cleared the trailers and RVs, did you note who was there?”
“Yes, sir. At least I did.” Jost pulled out his notepad. “I can write this up right now if you’d like.”
Gordon radioed Gaubatz, who was still keeping the scene secure, asked him the same question, and got another affirmative.
“Excellent. Did either of you run across Yolanda Orozco or Ian Patrick?”
Jost consulted his notes. “Not me.”
Gaubatz’s voice came from the radio. “That’s a negative here, too.”
Great . Had they lost two suspects, or gained two more victims?
Gordon thought herding cats would be easier than keeping track of all the Seesaw people. “Get your lists written up and give them to Solomon.”
“Yes, sir,” Jost said. Gaubatz’s Ten-Four came over the radio.
Connie poked her head into the room. “Coroner’s Investigator is here.”
Solomon stood. Gordon signaled him to wait. “Everyone, Solomon is lead on this case. Report to him. In detail. And often.” He motioned Ed over. “I need you to coordinate the interrogations. Use your judgment when it comes to releasing people. Start with the locals who have places to be. The movie folks were supposed to be here all morning anyway.”
“Yes sir, but—”
“Don’t worry. I’ll let you know when the CSR team gets here.”
With a nod and a faint smile, Solomon stepped to the front of the room. “Listen up, people.”
As Solomon handed out assignments, Gordon drove to the movie set. He parked behind the Coroner’s van and checked in with Gaubatz, who was outside the RV.
“All quiet, sir.”
Which meant no media. Yet. “If you need a pit stop, or coffee, you can take ten,” Gordon said. Gaubatz strode off toward Daily Bread, and Gordon ducked under the tape Solomon had strung across the top of the landing. Asel’s three-hundred pound bulk filled most of the remaining empty space around the body. Although the weather was cool, the closed RV had absorbed enough heat to be uncomfortable. Having a dead body in the middle didn’t help. Asel wiped his forehead with a red
Nods of understanding from his officers punctuated Gordon’s remarks. He went on.
“We have the body of Marianna Spellman discovered in the wardrobe RV at oh seven-fifty-two. The last persons we’re aware of in the RV are the wardrobe manager, Yolanda Orozco, and Mai Phan, one of the actors. Mai claims another actor, Ian Patrick, had been in there prior to her arrival, which was at approximately oh six-thirty.” Gordon picked up the list of names from production security and confirmed the man had arrived, but there were no times. He had a black check, not a blue X, so he hadn’t arrived on the bus.
“We need to know what time everyone arrived, where they went, who they spoke to, whether or not they saw Marianna Spellman, and what they thought of her. In addition, Yolanda Orozco, the wardrobe manager, wasn’t with the group at Daily Bread or Finnegan’s, and neither was Ian Patrick. See if you can garner any information as to their whereabouts.” He peered over the list he was holding, then made eye contact with each officer in the room. “And nobody, absolutely nobody, breathes a word to the media. Not the Mapleton Weekly , not the Denver Post, not even the high school paper. Anyone caught speaking to a reporter, be it print, electronic, or television will answer to me. Is that clear?”
A resounding “Yes, Sir,” came from the group.
After taking suggestions from the floor, he sent Laurie to print copies of the questions and asked to see Jost. The officer followed him to the rear of the room.
“When you and Gaubatz cleared the trailers and RVs, did you note who was there?”
“Yes, sir. At least I did.” Jost pulled out his notepad. “I can write this up right now if you’d like.”
Gordon radioed Gaubatz, who was still keeping the scene secure, asked him the same question, and got another affirmative.
“Excellent. Did either of you run across Yolanda Orozco or Ian Patrick?”
Jost consulted his notes. “Not me.”
Gaubatz’s voice came from the radio. “That’s a negative here, too.”
Great . Had they lost two suspects, or gained two more victims?
Gordon thought herding cats would be easier than keeping track of all the Seesaw people. “Get your lists written up and give them to Solomon.”
“Yes, sir,” Jost said. Gaubatz’s Ten-Four came over the radio.
Connie poked her head into the room. “Coroner’s Investigator is here.”
Solomon stood. Gordon signaled him to wait. “Everyone, Solomon is lead on this case. Report to him. In detail. And often.” He motioned Ed over. “I need you to coordinate the interrogations. Use your judgment when it comes to releasing people. Start with the locals who have places to be. The movie folks were supposed to be here all morning anyway.”
“Yes sir, but—”
“Don’t worry. I’ll let you know when the CSR team gets here.”
With a nod and a faint smile, Solomon stepped to the front of the room. “Listen up, people.”
As Solomon handed out assignments, Gordon drove to the movie set. He parked behind the Coroner’s van and checked in with Gaubatz, who was outside the RV.
“All quiet, sir.”
Which meant no media. Yet. “If you need a pit stop, or coffee, you can take ten,” Gordon said. Gaubatz strode off toward Daily Bread, and Gordon ducked under the tape Solomon had strung across the top of the landing. Asel’s three-hundred pound bulk filled most of the remaining empty space around the body. Although the weather was cool, the closed RV had absorbed enough heat to be uncomfortable. Having a dead body in the middle didn’t help. Asel wiped his forehead with a red
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