Dominic and Luca looked at each other across the kitchen table. Luca answered first.
“Dominic. Me. The cleaning crew carries a spare—three people—plus the groundskeeper. Celeste has had one for years.” He paused. “I hold the alarm code for the front door. So does Dominic. The service gets a rotating temporary code. It’s due for an update on Friday.”
“Rotate it today.”
Luca nodded without writing it down. I was confident he would remember.
“Who enters the house alone?”
“Cleaning crew, Wednesdays. I’m usually here, but not always. The piano tuner comes on the first Tuesday of each month. That was last week.”
“He has a key?”
“No. I let him in.”
“Every visit?”
“Every visit.”
“How long has he been coming?”
“Eleven years. He predates me.”
“Orchestra personnel. When are they in the house?”
“Rehearsal dinners with the principals. Score sessions when Dominic wants a read-through on a smaller scale.” Luca glanced at Dominic. “Last time was six weeks ago. There were eight musicians. Bridget was here. Two section leads, a brass player, and four more strings.”
“Access to the salon?”
“Yes, and the kitchen. I cooked.”
Dominic, who had sat with his hands folded since we started, looked at the growing list on my screen. “The Orpheum’s stage management team came three weeks ago. Preliminary production meeting. I preferred holding it here.”
“Names?”
He gave them to me.
I opened a new file. Twenty-two names. Every one of them had a legitimate reason to be in the house.
“The last seventy-two hours,” I said. “Who was physically inside?”
Luca didn’t pause. “Dominic. Me. Bridget came Saturday afternoon with rehearsal notes. Forty minutes.”
“In the salon?”
“Yes.”
“Near the baton case?”
“The case lives on that table. The salon isn’t large.” He looked at me. “Anyone in the salon is near it.”
Dominic unfolded his hands and set both palms flat on the table. “You’re building a map.”
“Yes.”
“Of the people I trust.”
“Of the people who had physical access.” I looked at him steadily. “Those aren’t necessarily the same.”
