Alex sat down neatly in the chair next to Bobby. They were positioned at a small table in a small room in a small hallway. The room was the practice room Bobby was referring to the night before.
"This is smaller than I remember," he said, examining the bare white walls and the sloping blue ceiling.
"Please tell me how you are so familiar with all of this," said Alex a little on the annoyed side. It wasn't that she was jealous that he knew about all of this, but that he always seemed to be in his own little world. She just wanted in a little more.
"Oh, I had a friend who played Clarinet and we used to come here to see the concerts and visit his teacher afterwards. There was a whole group of kids who would come backstage, the place would always be mobbed."
"So you never played?"
"Sadly, no."
"Life of crime too appealing to you?" she smirked. "Were you off reading Sherlock Holmes while your friend was practicing?"
"Actually-"
But before he could finish, the door opened and the concertmaster entered the practice room.
He had his violin in his left hand with his bow hanging from the index finger, leaving his right hand free. He shook Bobby's hand, then Alex's, and then sat down. "I'm Robert Chambers."
"I'm Alex Eames, and this is my partner, Robert Goren." Chambers gave Bobby a sanctimonious nod that he returned as Chambers sat his violin on the table.
"Mr. Chambers, we just have a few questions…"
One Police Plaza"Well, that was a waste of time," said Alex as she stepped off of the elevator ahead of Bobby.
"Not really," he said.
"How so? We spent 4 hours interviewing people just asking them where they got their instruments, how well did they know the victims, and which other member of the orchestra they were married to," she replied in an exasperated tone as she motioned a hand for each question. They made a b-line for Deakins' office.
"Or Civil Unioned to," added Bobby.
Alex shook out her shoulders. "Those guys were nuts."
"They were bassoonists…" he said, and upon seeing the glare from Alex he quickly added, "And definitely not bitter enough to have committed the crimes."
"My point is, Bobby… That took way too long."
"It wasn't all bad," he said.
"That's right, I forgot you had a thing for harpists," she said wryly.
"That's not fair," he said shaking a finger at her. "You had more than your share of fun with that Bassist…"
"Big hands…"
"What's all this about?" asked Deakins as he opened his office door before they smashed into it for lack of attention.
"The interviews," said Alex.
"How'd they go?"
"We've got a list of luthiers and dealers, and narrowed it to the local ones and the ones that our three vics got their Violins from. Well, one of them is in Germany, another in France, but," he added hastily, "We're going to canvas the local places first to see if any of the violins have shown up in town."
"You have any leads yet?"
"Not really. None of the orchestra members seem to have any motive… They got a little competitive when it came to who had the better violin. You should have seen this one guy…"
"Maybe he got a little desperate for a better instrument?"
"It's not likely. That kind of competition drives people to find something better, not to match it."
"It's true," interjected Alex. "That guy just bought an Italian Violin with an estimated value of almost twice that of the most expensive violin that was stolen."
"And how much is that?"
"Sixty thousand," Bobby said lightly.
"Good Lord, that's an expensive ego boost."
"Our point exactly. Whoever murdered those women and stole those violins had a more personal motive."
"Well, get going," he said as Alex and Bobby headed for his office door.
Apartment of Alex EamesAlex sat on the floor in her pajamas with her back against the couch between Bobby's legs- her favorite position- as she read through the list of luthiers. He leaned over her shoulder and looked at the list.
"So, how are we going to sell our French vacation?" she asked.
"By turning up nothing with the local guys," answered Bobby.
"Why do I have a feeling that's not going to happen?" she asked.
"Because it almost never works out that way," he answered sleepily, leaning back into the back of the couch.
"More coffee?" Alex asked turning towards him.
"No, I think just more sleep," he yawned.
Alex sat the list on the coffee table and repositioned herself on the couch, leaning into Bobby's chest. "Here's to French vacations-"
"-Or German ones-"
"And $60,000 violins…" Alex added dreamily.
They sat there with their eyes half closed. "Did you ever play?" asked Bobby.
"When I was really small. I took piano like all good girls should. I think I quit in the 3rd or 4th grade. I can't really remember."
"Why'd you quit?" he asked, stroking her shoulder.
"Sneaking my dad's handcuffs to school was way more fun," she said, and nodded off to sleep.