Free Death in a Summer Colony by Aaron Stander

huge crash, the flash of lightening followed instantly by the thunder. The building shook. The lights flickered and went out. I stood and waited for a few moments, you know how the power goes out and then comes back on. When it didn’t, I used my phone to light the way. I popped into the green room and people were using their phones.
    “Everyone in the green room seemed to be chatting away, not bothered by the dark. They were joking and laughing. I, of course, was worried about what would happen if the power was not quickly restored. How long should we wait for clearing the auditorium? When would we reschedule to play? Would some of the actors be leaving at the end of the weekend for work or other commitments? That’s what was running through my head.
    “Sterling was in the green room near the door. By the light of our phones we discussed our options if this turned out to be a long-term blackout. When the lights went back on David Johnson, he’s our lighting guy, comes in from outside by the east stage door soaking wet. He’s looking very upset. I ask him if everything’s okay. He says we need to talk after the show. He heads off toward his lighting loft. Sterling and I follow him through the east door into the backstage area. We’re discussing if the break should be extended a few more minutes. The stage manager, Tony Grattan, was right behind us, intending to check the set. I don’t know quite who noticed Malcolm first. His head was down on the desk, not moving, just like he was supposed to be at the opening of the second scene. I went over to him and said something, but he didn’t move. I put my hand on his shoulder to shake him. Then I saw the blood. For a few seconds I dismissed it as makeup. Then it struck me. This guy is dead. I told Tony and David to keep everyone away. That’s when I ran to get you.”
    Ray looked down at the notes he’d been making on a legal pad. Finishing a sentence, he looked back up at Grubbs. “So once you went backstage, you only encountered three people. First you saw Sterling Shevlin.”
    “That’s right.”
    “Where was he?”
    “Like I said, he was in the green room. He was standing just inside the door that opens to the main hall.”
    “You’re sure of that.”
    “Absolutely.”
    “And then the lights came back on. You started down the hallway going to the stage area. At that point you were with the director, Sterling Shevlin, and the stage manager, Tony Grattan.”
    “Correct.”
    “And that’s when you encountered…?”
    “David Johnson.”
    “And he was coming from…?”
    “The outside, the east stage door. ”
    “And he said he had to talk to you after the performance.”
    “Something to that effect.”
    “What was that about? Have you had a chance to talk to him?”
    “No, not yet. But I assume he wanted to talk about electrical problems and what needs to be done. We have this conversation every year. Things are not up to modern standards. And when the stage lights are on, we’re just about at capacity. We’ve blown the main fuses even without an electrical storm.” Grubbs paused briefly, then he explained, “The fuse boxes, breaker panels, and shut offs are on the exterior of the building. They’re in a protected enclosure. I assume that he’d gone out there to see what had happened.”
    “Besides Malcolm, who else would have been onstage during the break?”
    “I’m not sure. Maybe some crew members.”
    “I notice that the emergency egress lights didn’t come on when the power failed,” said Ray.
    Richard Grubbs squirmed in his chair. “Yes, that’s a problem. One of the units was shorting out and had to be disconnected. I thought I could buy one unit, but the owner of the fire safety company we contract with counseled against that, saying that given the age of the system all the units should be replaced. I gave him the go ahead. They will be installed early this week.”
    Ray looked at Grubbs for a long moment.
    “Yes, I know,