Chapter 10

In the backstage area, in the corridor outside the Green Room, Laura saw Claude Ross and another of the stage hands standing informal guard. She nodded a greeting to them, then entered the Green Room. Inside, it was crowded with people – as requested by Remington, the Shrine stage hands had rounded up every member of the orchestra, and now they stood or sat in any available spot, leaning against the walls, or perched on the refreshment tables, or sitting Indian-fashion on the floor, waiting for Laura and Remington. Even the hard core smokers had been corralled for this meeting.

Laura and Remington stood in the only available free space, just inside the doorway, and Laura looked at the assembled group for a few seconds, until the background hum of conversation started to fade as the orchestra players realized that they had entered the room. She noticed Patricio Salas and the other members of the Orchestra Council seated around the table at which they had earlier been playing poker, and in another corner, Eva-Maria Contardo, the soloist.

Laura adjusted her shawl around her shoulders, as if subconsciously putting on her armor, then addressed the room. "Ladies and gentlemen, I hope many of you remember me from earlier this evening, when I spoke to you? I'm Laura Steele, and this is my partner, Remington Steele. As you might know, we're private investigators who have been hired by Señor Rojas to recover Señorita Contardo's missing Stradivarius. I am sure that many of you are tired and hungry, and want to know what's going on, so Mr Steele and I wanted to hold this meeting to speak to you all together."

Remington smiled in a comradely way at the group. "Let me reiterate what Mrs Steele has said: we appreciate how hard it has been for all of you, effectively locked in here, in this theater. We know that you would rather be back at your hotel, and we thank you for your patience."

Laura began to pace back and forth, as she said, "The reason that all of you have been held back is that Señor Rojas, and Señor Lindstrom from the Shrine management, were sure that whoever, erm…'removed' Señorita Contardo's violin from her dressing room, did not actually take it out of the building." There was a murmur from her audience at these words. "In fact, my husband and I have reached the same conclusion – the violin is still in the building!"

There was a louder murmur from the audience, as many of the musicians looked at each other, and a few engaged in whispered conversations.

Laura shifted her gaze around the room, looking directly at various players for a minute or two. "At the moment, Señor Rojas, Señor Rebanada, and everyone else associated with the management, are occupied elsewhere; this seemed the perfect opportunity, then, to speak to you, the musicians – the most important personnel in this organization – in relative privacy. You see, Mr Steele and I are not only certain that the violin is still inside this theater, but that the person who took it is in this room – and is one of you!"

The room exploded in uproar at Laura's words. Some musicians gesticulated at Laura, others turned to their neighbors and began urgent conversations, while others merely shook their heads sadly. Laura waited until some of the agitation had subsided. Looking over at Patricio Salas, she saw him staring at her gimlet eyed, as if she had betrayed him personally by daring to accuse one of the orchestra's musicians of the theft.

Laura now held up her hands in a gesture requesting silence. When the room was finally quiet, she said, "Ladies and gentlemen, I know what I've just said is a shock. Please believe me – we do not want to get anyone in trouble. Mr Steele and I are quite aware of what has been going on here, within the Orquesta Nacional de Chile; we know about the derelictions of the management, the way players have been hired and fired, and about the discontent there has been in recent times." Her audience now sat silent, listening intently to Laura. "You see, we believe that Señorita Contardo's violin was not really 'stolen'; we think that it was taken, by one of you, as a political gesture – as a way of drawing attention to what Señor Rojas has been up to since he became Chief Executive of the organization. In some ways..." Laura said, glancing at Walter Herbert, "it was a noble action. We believe one of you wanted to create bad publicity for Señor Rojas while you were here, in the United States; by embarrassing him publically, you wished only to have his position become untenable."

Remington now spoke. "As my colleague has said, we believe that there was really no malice in this so-called theft; it was simply a form of improvised 'direct action' to see off the rather odious regime of Señor Rojas as the orchestra's Chief Executive. The problem is that this intention has now backfired. The press have not been notified, our agency, Remington Steele Investigations, was called into the case, and Señor Rojas is adamant that no one will be allowed to leave this building until the violin is found."

There was another loud murmur of concern from the musicians packed into the room. A couple of the smokers, ignoring both the backstage rules and the sentiments of their colleagues, lit up cigarettes.

Laura took over. "You all have our sympathy for what you've been going through. We don't want anyone to be charged, or to get into trouble for this 'political' gesture. But we have to retrieve that violin in time for the gala concert, I am afraid to say. There is no other choice, now."

Remington pulled a piece of paper out of his tuxedo pocket, then held it aloft, and glanced slowly around the room. "This is a note that was sent to Señor Rojas some time ago – a blackmail note. It was sent by one of you. It's unsigned, of course, but we are certain that whoever sent this note also took the violin. Now, the fact that it is unsigned is unimportant; our agency has access to many experts, and tomorrow, we shall have this note assessed by both a graphologist, who will inspect the handwriting, and a forensic linguist, who can analyze the patterns in the very distinctive language used in the note. We can assure you all that it will be straightforward to identify the author of the note within a couple of hours. At that time, we'll have no choice but to reveal the name to Señor Rojas..."

"And," interjected Laura, "this 'theft' will become a police matter as well."

Remington added, "Neither Mrs Steele nor I want this to happen." He looked at his Cartier; it was 10.44 p.m. "It's now sixteen minutes before eleven o'clock. Our proposal to you all is that, if the person or persons who took the Stradivarius come forward and return it to us before eleven o'clock, this whole matter will be dropped. The name of the person will not be revealed to Señor Rojas – you have our word on that. Everyone will get to go back to their hotel. The whole incident can be forgotten. We'll simply tell Señor Rojas that the violin has been found – which was our remit – and that he does not need to know who took it, or where it was hidden.

"But if the violin is not returned by 11.00 p.m., then everyone will have to remain in this building – perhaps all night – and the local police will be brought into this affair. This theater will be searched from top to bottom by a hundred men, and that violin will be found!"

"We would ask you all to remain in this area, please," said Laura. "You can use this room, the Smoking Room, and any of the other empty dressing rooms off of this corridor, but please do not leave the backstage area. Mr Steele and I are going to wait in the star dressing room; if anyone wants to speak to us, that's where to find us. I hope you all think about what we've said."

With a final, meaningful glance around the now silent room, Laura and Remington walked out, and headed off towards Eva-Maria Contardo's dressing room.