Just one thing- the orchestra, the hall, the instruments, and the conductor are all figments of my imagination, but imagine the New York Philharmonic if you like…

Chapter 2

Alex quietly entered the concert hall behind Bobby. The door gently shut behind her. They both silently made their way to a seat about half way across and looked down upon the orchestra below them.

"God, there's gotta be a hundred people there," she whispered.

"Ninety three," corrected Bobby.

"Excuse the hell outta me."

The hall was empty but for them and the orchestra on stage, which seemed unaware of their entrance. They sat in the emptiness just listening to the orchestra play. It was incredible. Alex looked around taking in the enormous hall around her and the sound that was enveloping her.

She turned to her partner who was breathing heavily. She almost wondered if he was having trouble breathing until she notice his breaths were somehow matching up with the music. Not in time…something deeper. Just when she herself was starting to feel it, the music taking control of her body- her soul- the conductor swung his baton and yelled, "Stop!"

Suddenly the stage was alive with chatting. What was a concert hall filled with something otherworldly was now just like any other place. People were chatting; putting their feet up on their knees, and the boss was up front was dishing out commands.

Alex was jerked from her serene state, and apparently so was Bobby. His shoulders jerked and her turned quickly and looked at Alex, who had the same startled look. She shook it off. "When will they be done?" she asked, but the question had just been answered for her. With another shout and waive of his baton, the conductor had dismissed the orchestra and people were getting up, walking off stage, mingling between sections, and practicing their instruments.

Alex and Bobby nodded to each other, got up, and walked down the aisle to the front. The podium was directly in front of them on the stage, which was about chest height.

"Excuse me, maestro. Could we have a word?" asked Bobby as he held up his badge.

The tall man stepped down from the podium and sat on the edge of the stage. "This is about Mary?"

"About all three, yes. Mary Steinman, Nicola Dominguez, and Halley Roberts," said Alex.

"Have you found anything yet?" he asked, crossing his arms with the baton still in his hand. It poked him in the armpit and he quickly unfolded his arms and reached up to set it on the podium. Alex laughed inwardly.

"Nothing yet, sorry. We were hoping we could have a word with each member of the orchestra individually. It won't take long, just 5 or 10 minutes per person."

"Ok…"

"We were thinking that we could speak to them individually during rehearsal. One person at a time- you'd still have a full orchestra."

"Unless you took my Tuba player," said the conductor cracking a smile. Bobby laughed.

"That's very funny," he began, but Alex cut him off.

"That will work then?" she said.

"Yes, I suppose," he said a little less gaily.

"Thank you very much, Mr. Dragommi," said Bobby as he shook the conductor's hand.

Alex and Bobby wandered back up the aisles and into the lobby.

"We need to find a place to talk to these people," said Alex.

"Here," said Bobby as he opened an unlabeled white door in the middle of the wall.

"Why here?" she said, but again, for the second time that evening, her question was answered by the conductor. He was standing in the middle of a crowded hallway chatting animatedly with two cellists. The door led backstage.

"How did you know," began Alex but Bobby quickly addressed the conductor again.

"Could we borrow one of the practice rooms for the interviews?" he asked.

"Yes, of course," he answered. Bobby shut the door with a smile.

"How did you know that was backstage?" Asked Alex, finishing her original question.

"I used to come here all the time when I was younger."

"Should have known as much," she said rolling her eyes with a smile.

Bobby flushed ever so slightly, then turned and opened the white door again. Dragommi and the 2 cellists were still standing there, deep in conversation. "Just one more thing- what's the most common way that you usually come across your instruments?"

One of the cellists turned to him. "I had mine made by Macica! Custom!"

The other turned. "Mine is an old Italian, circa 1800."

"Yes, but where," asked Bobby again rolling his eyes. His hand was still on the door handle.

"Oh…geeze. From an old luthier on 23rd. I think he got it at auction…"

"Thanks very much," he said with a smile and pulled the door closed again.

"We should check all of the local dealers and see if any new finds have turned up," he said to Alex before turning to open the stage door for a 3rd time.

"Now really, Detectives!" began the conductor, but Alex smiled apologetically, grabbed Bobby's hand that was on the handle and pulled the door shut with a "Just kidding."

Her hand was still on top of his, which was still on the door handle. "Alex," he began, but she cut him off.

"I know and you know that your 3rd question had nothing to do with the case," she said.

"There's no way you can know."

"Don't be ridiculous," she said with a knowing look. "Of course there is. I've seen that look you get when you're fascinated by something. It's a completely unrelated expression. Now, come on, you can look whatever it is up later in a boo-" The door flew opened and Alex and Bobby almost fell over as the second cellist opened it and walked out with cello in tow.