Chapter Seven: That's a Wrap Theatre Company

That's a Wrap Theatre Company

Manhattan, New York

Tuesday December 15

When Lupo and Bernard entered the building, the administrative assistant greeted them.

"Hi! I'm Kendall. What can I do for you gentlemen?" she asked.

"Hi," Lupo returned. "N.Y.P.D.," he said, as he and Bernard showed her their badges. "I'm Detective Lupo, this is Detective Bernard. We're investigating the murder of your co-worker."

Kendall sighed.

"God, poor Lucinda," she said. "It's just horrible…"

"Yeah, it's pretty bad," Lupo agreed. "Is your boss here today?"

"Yeah, he is," said Kendall. "Follow me, I'll take you to his office."

Lupo and Bernard did so, and she led them to the office of the executive director.

She knocked on the door, which was slightly ajar already, and opened it further.

"Steve, the N.Y.P.D. is here to see you—it's about Lucinda," she said.

"All right," said the executive director. "Thanks, Kendall."

Kendall nodded and then left.

Lupo and Bernard entered the room and introduced themselves.

"Afternoon, Detectives. I'm Steve Cochran, I'm the executive director here," said Cochran, shaking hands with both of them. "So you've been investigating Lucinda's murder?"

"Yes," said Bernard.

"God, the whole thing is just terrible," Cochran said sadly. "I was told someone choked her to death?"

"Yes, that's how she died," said Lupo.

"Christ…" said Cochran, shaking his head. "She was a good worker—a very good worker. Very good at what she did. We're really gonna miss her around here."

"We know she was a development officer here," said Bernard.

"Yes. She and our other development officer Alexis worked with our donor base, solicited funds, applied for grants, collaborated with our two marketing staffers, stuff like that. Again, she was a very good worker. A few months ago, she got us a nice grant. The timing was great, too."

"What do you mean?" asked Bernard.

"Well—money's tight around here," Cochran replied. "It's been rough on us lately. Ask our accountant Derek—he'll tell you…You know, I would've liked to have given Lucinda a raise, but that's up to the board of directors, not me."

"Mr. Cochran, did Lucinda get along all right with everyone here?" Bernard asked.

"Oh yeah, absolutely. Everyone gets along great here, as far as I know. I mean, we're not best pals or anything, but yeah, we get along," Cochran replied.

"So no hostility between her and anyone else here?" said Lupo.

"No, not to my knowledge," said Cochran.

"Mr. Cochran, we're going to have to speak with some of the other staffers, just a heads-up," said Lupo.

"Of course, whatever you need," said Cochran.

"Mr. Cochran, where were you Thursday November 19 between ten and eleven p.m.?" asked Bernard.

"I arrived in Atlantic City around eight. I attended an arts administrators' conference there on Friday and Saturday, and I drove back on Sunday," Cochran replied. "I have confirmation emails with contact information for the organization that held the conference and for my hotel. I made reservations for both online. Let me print them off for you."

"That'd be great, thanks," said Lupo.

Cochran then printed off the confirmation emails, which he then handed to Bernard.

"All right, then, thank you, Mr. Cochran," Bernard said, taking them.

"Of course," said Cochran.

Lupo and Bernard then left his office.

As they walked down the hall—

"I don't think he's our guy," Lupo murmured.

"Me neither," Bernard muttered. "You've got the list of all the staffers with you, right?"

"Yeah," Lupo said, still keeping his voice down.

"How many men work here?" Bernard asked. "Remember, the neighbors all said they heard Lucinda arguing with a man."

Lupo had taken the list out of his pocket.

"Right…Three, including Cochran," he replied.

They walked down the hallway and stopped at an office door with a name plate on it that said 'Derek Fletcher Staff Accountant'.

Bernard knocked.

"Yeah?" Fletcher said curtly, answering the door.

"Mr. Fletcher, N.Y.P.D.," said Bernard, as he and Lupo showed him their badges.

"We're here about Lucinda Carlisle," said Lupo.

"God, that whole thing is horrible," said Fletcher, shaking his head. "Are you at all close to finding out who killed her?"

"We're pretty sure we're getting there, yeah," said Bernard. "Mr. Fletcher, where were you Thursday November 19 between ten and eleven p.m.?"

"I was at home asleep," Fletcher replied. "In my apartment—or, as I like to call it, my bachelor pad," he quipped.

"All right," said Lupo. "Did you know Lucinda very well?"

Fletcher shrugged.

"Not that well—just that she worked really hard. We'd greet each other coming in and out of the office. She and Alexis would give me records of the money they raised, and since I do all the bookkeeping for the organization, I would record all contributions they took in. We only had a business relationship," he replied.

"Mr. Fletcher, you're obviously an accountant," said Bernard.

"Yes, I'm a CPA," said Fletcher.

"Have you noticed anything that seems off about the books lately as you've been managing them? Has anything not been adding up?" Bernard asked. "According to your boss, the organization has been having some money problems lately."

"Well…yes, we have, unfortunately," said Fletcher. "The recession's really done a number on us. We just have to hope our donors really step up to the plate, you know?"

"Yeah," said Lupo. "Well—we'll let you get back to work, then."

"All right," said Fletcher. "Detectives?"

"Yeah?" said Bernard.

"What does our lack of funds have to do with Lucinda Carlisle's death?" Fletcher asked.

"Well, Lucinda had some interesting deposits in her checking account that seemed to come out of nowhere, so we've been wondering if she was stealing from the organization," said Bernard. "You wouldn't happen to know anything, would you?"

"Wow..." said Fletcher. "Well—like I said, the books haven't been waving any red flags at me. If they were, I'd go right to Steve—discreetly, of course…So you think money has something to do with her death?"

"Yeah, we do," said Bernard. "Well, if you think of anything," he added, handing one of his business cards to Fletcher, "you let us know."

"Like I said, I didn't know her very well, but if I do think of anything, I'll call you."

"All right," said Lupo. "You have a nice day, Mr. Fletcher."

"You, too."

***DOINK!DOINK!***

The Manhattan District Attorney's Office

One Hogan Place Centre Street

Manhattan, New York

Tuesday December 15

Mike, Connie, Jack, Lupo, and Bernard were all gathered in Mike's office. Lupo and Bernard were telling the three attorneys all about their visit to That's a Wrap Theatre Company.

"…and his alibi is that he was home alone in bed when it happened," Lupo was saying of Fletcher. "Obviously, there's no one to confirm or deny that. And about the money and the organization's books, either he's lying, or Connie's wrong."

"He's lying," Mike said without hesitation.

Connie gave him a brief, grateful smile.

"So Mr. Cochran's in the clear. What about the third male employee—the marketer?" said Jack.

"At home in bed—his boyfriend can back him up, he said," Bernard replied.

"So his alibi's essentially as strong as Mr. Fletcher's," said Jack. "Do we have anything solid we can use to bury either one of them?"

"There's the organization's books," said Mike. "If we subpoena them and have a forensic accountant go over them, we'll know whether or not Fletcher knew Lucinda was stealing."

"If she was stealing," said Jack.

"There are also those prints CSU lifted from the window sill in Lucinda's apartment—the ones that aren't in the system," said Connie.

"Who wants to play connect the dots?" Bernard said to Lupo.

***DOINK!DOINK!***

N.Y.P.D. 27th Precinct

One Police Plaza

Manhattan, New York

Thursday December 17

"I'm telling you, I did not kill Lucinda, I swear to you!" said Craig Harris, the marketer.

"I agree, Harris," Derek Fletcher said coldly. "This isn't very dignified at all. 'Well, we have no idea who killed Lucinda Carlisle, so we'll just go after two guys who worked with her, even though they barely knew her and didn't kill her'!"

"All right. Just give us your prints, and we'll get this all cleared up," said Lupo.

"It won't hurt a bit, we promise," Bernard snarked.

A CSU tech was there at the precinct, all set up to take fingerprints.

"Honey, just do it," said Harris' boyfriend. "Then they'll know you didn't kill Lucinda, and they'll know I didn't lie for you."

"You're right, you're right," Harris agreed.

He then sat down and allowed the CSU tech to take his fingerprints.

"Your turn, Mr. Fletcher," said Bernard.

Fletcher sat down and let the CSU tech take his fingerprints.