three aspects of a crime. Motivation, means and opportunity.
Gerald had the opportunity, because he worked on campus. Around five thirty, he’d told us he was heading to campus. So it seemed he was in the location of the crime, and could’ve seen it, or heaven forbid, committed it. And he had the ability to commit the crime, the means. It wasn’t like the skull prop had been locked up. Anyone could have gotten it. Two out of three so far, but what would’ve been Gerald’s motive?
“You’re awfully quiet, Annie Mae,” José said.
“I’m just in shock. It’s terribly tragic,” I said.
“I have to ask you, do you think that your friend, Gerald, could have had anything to do with this?” José said.
“No, of course not. It didn’t even cross my mind.” I lied.
“Then the wax paper found near the crime scene was just a coincidence?” José asked.
I couldn’t look him in the eye.
“José, I’m ashamed of you,” Bezu said. “You just had dinner with Gerald. He’s a charming, intelligent gentleman. You’re putting Annie Mae on the spot here. Please, talk to him if you must, but leave Annie Mae out of it.” Bezu squeezed my hand. “Look at her, she’s obviously upset.”
“I’m sorry, Annie Mae, I’m just doing my job. I wasn’t accusing Gerald of anything. But out of the three of us standing here, Annie Mae knows the most about him. You’re right Bezu, I’ll talk to Gerald myself,” José said.
I gave him Gerald’s phone number and his office room number. José gave us a quick hug before he left.
“José meant no harm,” I told Bezu. “He was just doing his job. But thanks for having my back.” My brain engaged in investigative mode. “I’m puzzled. Why was the wax paper here?”
“Let’s see. Maybe Gerald brought the pie into the building when he came back here after dinner,” Bezu offered.
“Sure. That’s what happened,” I halfheartedly said.
“Yes, of course. He did nothing wrong.”
I surveyed the area, paying half-attention to my friend. My mind tried to recreate what could’ve happened. “Let me think this through. Gerald’s office is next to mine, on the second floor.”
“Cozy.” She tapped me in the arm.
I rolled my eyes. Obviously, she was trying to lighten the situation a bit. “Let’s say he entered the building through the lobby’s double glass doors. From there, he could have gone left up the stairs to his office on the second floor, or taken a right to the theater on the main floor.”
“Okay, I’m following your train of thought,” Bezu said.
I laughed. “I just hope it’s not a runaway train.”
She grinned.
I went on, “He could have had the piece of pie in his hand. Let’s say he was eating it, and he was almost finished. But then, right before he walked up the stairs, he heard a sound coming from the theater.”
“Okay. This makes sense so far.” She nodded. “Pie in one hand, then the noise. He headed toward it.”
“Yes. Then Gerald, instead of heading upstairs to his office, stays on the first floor and enters the theater.” I paced in a circle. “Once inside, he looks around, trying to identify what made the sound.”
“Of course. And he finds Priscilla dead, but then he sees a person leaving. So, like the hero that I’m certain he is, he drops the wax paper and chases after them.”
I bit my bottom lip. “That could be one scenario.”
“Do you have another?”
“Yes. Back to Gerald entering the building while eating the pie. Before he goes to his office, he stops in the theater. And while he is there, he drops the wrapper.”
“And he sees Priscilla—alive?”
Sighing, I said, “Maybe. Maybe not. I really don’t know. I didn’t get that far in my thought process.”
“Call him,” Bezu said.
“I’ve been trying, it goes right to voicemail.”
“Didn’t José say that he was going to talk to Gerald?”
“Give me a second.” I called Gerald’s number and got his voicemail again. Then I
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