I laughed when I opened the theater doors to find the stage crew painting the interior of 'coach's' house Pepto-Bismol pink. Tom had mentioned that he wanted the feeling to be one of a little old lady's living room complete with doilies over the backs of chairs. Coach had lived with his mother, never married and stayed in her house after she died. There was an implication in the storyline that the coach had some 'tendencies' but it was probably too subtle for most people to pick up.
Tom was on stage with Suze watching the painters. Suze was obviously acting strictly as a supervisor. Her beautiful slacks, shell top and ballet flats weren't going to get anywhere near that pink paint, that's for sure.
Tom saw me and waved me up on stage.
"Looks like things are really shaping up, Tom. I didn't see the pink coming." I turned to Suze. "The set looks great, Suze."
"Oh, thanks…uh…um."
"Raina, the name is Raina."
"So sorry. I'm so bad with names." I wasn't the least bit surprised she was 'bad' with mine. Suze ran over to a couple of high school kids who were bringing in the bar on the opposite side of the stage. "Boys…do be careful with that piece. It was my grandmother's."
Tom laughed. "There's one of the phoniest women who ever wore Chanel No. 5."
"Not fond of our little Suze?"
"Good god, she's one of the reasons I chose an all male play. I don't think I could make it through another production with her kind."
"Her kind?"
"Oh c'mon, Raina. You're young but you don't strike me as stupid. Have you ever met people as ridiculous as the women here?"
"Why just the women?"
"The men can be obnoxious, too. But they have a real life. For the majority of the women, this is their life." He shrugged as if to say it didn't matter much to him. "Let's go look at the set from the audience."
We sat about midway up the center section and looked at the stage as if we were an audience seeing it for the first time.
"That's the most bilious shade of pink I've ever seen. Are you sure you aren't risking wide spread nausea in our audience?"
"I wanted it to be a real contrast. The rough language, the big jocks, the drinking--all within the context of a little old lady's living room."
"You've certainly achieved that with this décor. I can't wait to see how the cast reacts to it."
"Rehearsals will take on a new dimension with the set nearly done. I think it's been going very well so far."
I agreed with him…and saw my chance. "It's a wonderful ensemble cast you've put together, Tom. But…I noticed something very strange in the air Friday night. Care to shed some light on it for me?"
"I'm not sure I know what you mean," Tom responded in a guarded voice.
"C'mon, that Roger dude. The whole cast went all somber and Tristan was a positive bear the whole night." Well, maybe not the whole night, but I didn't need to share those details with Tom.
"It's not important. There's just a past."
"What's that supposed to mean?"
"I hate to gossip. There are already too many noses poked in everyone else's business in this theater group."
"Well, it sucks when everyone knows an open secret but me." I was pissed off that Tom wouldn't tell me something that was obviously public knowledge.
"Okay, okay. Tristan was engaged to Roger's sister years ago. It ended badly."
I hadn't seen that coming and it hit me right in the gut. "But Roger and Tristan are still friends?"
"As much as they can be under the circumstances."
"Was the break up that ugly?"
"Oh, there wasn't any break up."
"Are you being deliberately vague? What do you mean there wasn't a break up? They aren't together anymore…are they?"
"Hardly. Elsa was…Elsa's dead."
I had to let that sink in for a moment. Tristan, man about town, was once going to get married and his fiancé died.
"How did she die?"
"Look, Raina, it was years ago and I wasn't around here then. I've heard several versions of how she was killed and the truth is, no one really knows except Tristan. So if you want the whole story, you'll just have to ask him."
Suze called from the stage. "Tom, I need you up here for a few, sweetie." Everyone was a 'honey' or a 'sweetie' to Suze. Tom seemed eager enough to finish our conversation and leapt up to do her bidding.
"She was killed…no one really knows except Tristan." I was stuck with more mystery than before and now there was a sinister edge to my speculation.
I went back to the duplex with the intent of digging up all that I could about Tristan King and his fiancé. It took me a few moments of intense concentration to come up with Roger's last name. I hadn't been paying all that much attention when Tom had introduced him. Fortunately, unlike Suze, I have a pretty good recall of names.
I typed in "Tristan King Elsa Maynard". Sure enough, I came up with an engagement announcement. The engagement had been five years before and there was a picture of the happy couple. Tristan was as handsome as ever. It was apparent the ensuing five years hadn't aged him much. Elsa was a female version of Roger. Just as I thought, the features suited a female face. She was pretty, but in a very natural, girl-next-door way.
I stared at the photo of the woman Tristan had loved enough to want to marry her. Her eyes were fixed on him and brimming with love. I wanted to cry. Not because he had lost the love of his life…no. Because he had had a love of his life.
I filled in as many of the blanks as I could over the next hour or so. I found the obituary. It said nothing at all about the circumstances of her death. I tried every phrase I could think of-- "Elsa Maynard death", "Elsa Maynard killed", "Elsa Maynard accident", and so on until I had exhausted my options.
There wasn't much more on Elsa. She was the daughter of a couple who apparently hadn't done anything more newsworthy than serve on a few high school planning committees. There was nothing about her family background; no social pedigree that I could find.
The engagement announcement mentioned that Elsa had graduated from a small state university. Beyond that, her major claim to fame was to get engaged to Tristan King. When I searched that name I came up with plenty.
I read enough to know that he was probably the most successful and secretive private investment guru on Wall Street. In a profession that values discretion, he seemed to be a master of it. In fact, most of what I read about him was pure speculation. Unschooled though I am about the world of finance, I knew enough to know when I'm reading filler bullshit in an article. A lot of his press centered on the fact that he had garnered vast power and wealth at such a young age. Apparently, that's all the reporters could come up with.