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He shook his head."I work better alone.Less chance of expensive equipment getting damaged."
Sheila noted how precisely everything was arranged—like a stage being set.She thought about the gaffer's wire he'd been handling so expertly, about his access to the theaters, about his knowledge of camera blind spots and security systems.
"The audition tapes," she said carefully."From 'The Winter Palace' and 'Ghost Light'—would you have copies?"
"We record everything during the festival.For insurance purposes, you know?"He started gathering up loose cables, his movements quick and jerky."But those particular tapes would be in the festival archives.I just handle the technical side."
Something about his tone made Sheila uneasy.Was he being helpful, or just telling them what they wanted to hear?And why was he here alone, handling the same type of wire used to kill two people?
"That's a lot of wire you're working with," she said, keeping her voice casual.
Wilson glanced down at the coils."Standard gaffer's wire.We use it to secure everything—lights, cables, sound equipment."He pushed his glasses up."Though I suppose you know that, given how the victims were..."
"Strangled?"Sheila finished.
Wilson flinched."Yes.Terrible way to die."
Finn moved closer to one of the equipment cases."You said Jessica was interested in the technical side.Did she ever come here?To learn about the equipment?"
"Here?"Wilson's hands started moving again, compulsively organizing cables."No, no.This is private storage.I don't...I mean, I've never brought anyone here."
"Mind if we look around?"Sheila asked.
Wilson hesitated."I'd rather...there's expensive equipment, you see.Insurance requirements..."
"We'll be careful," Sheila said, already moving toward a door marked 'Projection Booth.'"Just doing our due diligence."
The booth was cramped but meticulously organized.Old film reels lined one wall, while digital equipment occupied the other.But what caught Sheila's attention was a small TV setup in the corner, complete with a DVD player and stacks of recorded media.
"You review a lot of footage up here?"she asked.
Wilson hovered in the doorway."Sometimes.For quality control."
Sheila picked up one of the DVD cases."These aren't festival materials."
"Personal collection," Wilson said quickly, taking the case and returning it to the shelf."I'm something of a film buff.Been collecting since I was a kid."
"Mind if we take a look?"
"I'd really rather—" Wilson started, then seemed to catch himself."I mean, they're not organized.Just old movies, nothing important."
Finn appeared behind Wilson."We could get a warrant."
Wilson's face tightened."Listen, I don't appreciate being treated like a suspect.I've worked at this festival for nine years.Ask anyone—I'm professional and reliable.I would never..."He took a shaky breath."Jessica was sweet.Thomas was kind.Why would I hurt them?"
"Nobody's accusing you of anything, Mr.Wilson."
"It doesn't feel that way."
"If you have nothing to hide," Finn said, then you won't mind if we take a closer look at your collection.Just to rule you out."
Wilson's hands clenched and unclenched."Fine.Take them.Take whatever you want.But I want my lawyer present for any questioning."He backed out of the doorway."Now, if you'll excuse me, I have equipment to pack."
They watched him hurry back to the main theater floor, his movements more agitated than before.
"He's hiding something," Finn said quietly.
"Yeah."Sheila studied the DVD collection."But is it murder?Or something else?"