Free Some Like It Hot-Buttered by JEFFREY COHEN Page B

whereabouts right now?”
    “No. I’ve tried everywhere I could think to look. He’s nowhere to be found, so far as I can tell. Why, is he in more trouble?”
    Dutton ignored the question, and pressed on. “No girlfriend? ”
    “Me, or Anthony?”
    He smiled impatiently. “For now, Anthony,” Dutton said.
    “Have you seen Anthony?”
    “I’ll take that as a no. Any siblings in the area?” He caught himself in time. “Anthony, not you.”
    “Neither of us, as far as I know.”
    “Has he been having money troubles? Asked you for a raise recently?” Dutton’s eyes narrowed a bit.
    “You’ve seen my box office receipts. I’m barely making the payments on the Milk Duds. No, Anthony hasn’t mentioned any financial problems. I don’t think he even notices I pay him every two weeks.” Okay, so Anthony had always wanted to make his own movies, but that would take millions; even if he were in on the piracy scheme, he wouldn’t have made anything close to that. I figured the police must have had something more that pointed to Anthony in connection with the pirated videos, but I couldn’t imagine what.
    “So it’s not sex, and it’s not money,” Dutton said. “What’s left?”
    “I can’t answer that, because I don’t know what we’re talking about. Anthony’s not the type to pirate DVDs of a bad movie, Chief. He’d sooner digitize a copy of The Grand Illusion and distribute it for free on the Internet.”
    Dutton leaned forward just a bit. “Has he done that?” he asked.
    “No! Chief, it doesn’t make sense. A man is poisoned in my theatre, and you seem more concerned about a few copies of a comedy written by six chimpanzees and an escaped mental patient. If you really want to witness a crime, you should watch that movie. You should arrest the people who want to buy it, and get them help.”
    Dutton leaned back in his chair and closed his eyes for a moment, measuring how much he should tell me. “You don’t think it’s a little more than unlikely that a man was killed in your auditorium at the same time a piracy operation was going on in the basement? This goes beyond a few pirated DVDs, Mr. Freed,” he said.
    “I suppose this is a bad time to ask you to call me Elliot. ”
    He smiled, sincerely. “Elliot, believe me. We’re doing everything we can about Mr. Ansella, but it’s mostly out of my jurisdiction. Detective Sergeant O’Donnell is investigating for the prosecutor, and we’re assisting. In the meantime, if there’s anything more you know about the packages we found in the theatre basement, I’d really appreciate the help.”
    I searched my mind, but ended up shaking my head. “I haven’t a clue, Chief,” I said. “When Officer Patel led us down into the basement, it was the first time I’d been there in I can’t tell you how long. And it was the first time I’d ever seen those boxes.”
    He stood up. “Well, then, I’m sorry to have wasted your time.” Dutton leaned over and extended his hand.
    There was something about his dismissing me that was just not right. He called me into his office just to ask if there was anything else I hadn’t told him? There had to be another motive behind Dutton’s sudden interest—and his Dr. Hibbard jovial attitude.
    “What are you not telling me?” I asked. “What did they find in that vial in my auditorium?”
    He had the nerve to look insulted. “Honestly, Elliot, you can’t imagine that the chief of police would share details of a case with a civilian.”
    “Sorry.” I shook his hand. “I wasn’t aware there were national security issues at stake.”
    “You’d be amazed what a chief can’t share,” he said. “In some ways, even the uniformed officers have more freedom to talk than I do. Now, if you don’t mind, I have to meet with the mayor about keeping my job when he is replaced by someone hopefully a little less obvious in his corruption.”
    We nodded at each other, and I walked out, more confused than I was