Page 11 of Her Last Secret

“Ah, I see,” he said, no longer trying on the good cheer. “I…uh, I suppose you’re here to discuss the terrible news we’ve been getting? About poor Sarah and Emily?”

“That’s correct,” Jack said.

"Please, take a seat." Marcus gestured to the chairs opposite his desk, clearing a few papers to make room. "What can I do for you?"

"Well, as you can imagine," Rachel said, "the fact that two actresses have been murdered so closely to one another in regard to a timeline points to the idea that someone's targeting people involved in the theater. Right now, based on the two victims, we can assume that actresses are his targets. So we're looking for any other links between them and discovered that you had directed both of them very recently, in different shows. Is that right?"

"That's correct, yes. And let me tell you, both of them were remarkable talents." Rachel watched, alert for the subtle tells that might betray deceit, any sort of indicator that he was hiding something. "Both had promising futures ahead of them, and while I am sad beyond measure about what happened, it also makes me very mad. Mad as hell that someone would just decide it was within their own stupid power to kill them."

“Did you know them well?” Jack asked.

“Well, I knew Sarah more than I knew Emily. I’d worked with her more often.”

"Can you tell us about your relationship with them?"

"Professional, of course," Marcus answered quickly, perhaps too quickly. But his posture remained open, his expression earnest. "I directed three shows Sarah was in, and one with Emily…this most recent one. The one last night. And God, it happened…well, the way I hear it, she died less than two hours after the show.”

Rachel nodded, observing Marcus as he fidgeted with a pen, the strain in his eyes betraying his calm demeanor.

"Emily was one of the brightest stars I've had the privilege to direct," Marcus's went on, his voice cracking slightly. “And Sarah was just about to hit her stride. This is just all so devastating." He shook his head, the motion sending ripples through his disheveled hair.

Rachel leaned in, her senses sharpened by the urgency of needing to find solid answers. "It must be very difficult for everyone involved."

"Difficult doesn't begin to cover it." Marcus sighed heavily, setting the pen down. "Sarah had just received a call from New York forHamilton, you know—that kind of opportunity is life-changing. And now..." His voice trailed off, lost in the gravity of what might have been.

"Being on Broadway was her dream?" Jack's question wove into the conversation, gentle yet probing.

"More than a dream, it was within reach. She auditioned, and they were seriously considering her for Eliza. You don't get calls like that unless you're exceptional."

"Mr. Flint, I need you to keep in mind why we're here," Jack said. "Your name is one of the few links between them. So we need to ask where you were on the nights Emily and Sarah were killed."

Marcus nodded, seemingly prepared for the inquiry but hurt all the same. He suddenly wore an expression akin to what he might look like if someone called him a dirty name. "I figured you'd ask the moment you showed your badges. It makes sense, I suppose. Last night, after the show's wrap party, I overindulged. Drank a bit too much and ended up sleeping it off at a friend's place. I nearly didn't bother coming into work today, especially after hearing about Emily. My head is still reeling from the drinking and the news."

"Anyone who can confirm that?" Rachel persisted, her tone insistent yet not accusing.

"Half the cast and crew for starters. And a bartender that I’m pretty sure I mercilessly hit on. And then the friend who so willingly offered his pull-out couch.”

"And three nights ago? Sarah's murder?" Jack followed up, his own scrutiny unwavering.

"I was out of town, in D.C. My girlfriend lives there," Marcus responded without hesitation. "I can give you her information; she'll tell you I was with her the entire time. She and I were actually coming out of a late breakfast when my friend called to tell me Sarah had been murdered."

Rachel memorized the details, her mind already racing ahead to the next step—verification. The alibis seemed solid, almost too easy. Rachel sensed a shift in Marcus's composure as he mentioned his time in D.C. It appeared that his earlier sadness was giving way to an unsettling revelation. He leaned back in his chair, the creases of worry etched deeper into his features as he exhaled a heavy sigh.

"You know," he started, his voice tinged with a morose inflection, "there's something particularly eerie about all this."

“What’s that?” Jack asked.

Marcus frowned and steepled his fingers. "Well, the rumor going around is that Emily was beaten and choked to death." He paused here, his voice cracking as he fought back tears as he said it out loud. "Is that right?"

“It is,” Rachel said.

“And I know that Sarah had her throat cut.”

“Also correct.”

Marcus nodded and said, "I say it's eerie because both women were killed in the same way their characters murdered another character on stage. Emily's character punched and choked out her enemy on stage in the very play she was in last night. And Sarah... well, she played a scorned woman who cut the throat of her cheating husband."

Rachel's pulse quickened, the grim coincidence igniting a spark of insight within her. It was too specific, too aligned with the twisted narrative of a killer who made anonymous calls to make sure his victims were found right away.

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