“As soon as I passed the bar, Malcolm asked me to come work for him. Initially, it was more on the business side. I was a liaison between his investment company and the law firm we had on retainer to look after legal issues. About twelve years ago he launched his philanthropic foundation, and I became the executive administrator of that endeavor while continuing to serve as his personal counsel.”

“And what’s the focus of the foundation’s work?”

“Really, Sheriff, I can’t see how this has any bearing on….”

“Ms. Wudbine. We know very little about your father-in-law. We are trying to get a better sense of the man. Hopefully, this will give us some direction as we search for the killer.”

“What was your question, again?”

“The foundation, what are your funding priorities?”

“Malcolm Wudbine came from a very hardscrabble background. Through diligence and solid values, he attained a university education and professional success. He was interested in helping others also pull themselves up by their bootstraps. We contributed millions to traditionally black colleges and neighborhood improvement projects. We also have funded scholarship programs to help needy farm kids get a college education. And Malcolm was always very generous with the needs of the summer colony here, too generous perhaps.”

“How was he to work for, especially given the…?”

“He was a wonderful man, Sheriff. He never wasted a minute of time. He was always focused on the next project. When he wasn’t working on corporate or foundation business, he was in the gym staying fit, or he was busy researching some new passion.”

“Did your father-in-law have any enemies?”

“It’s hard to be wealthy in this country without enemies. The investment industry is very competitive. He was smart, daring, and a risk taker, albeit a very shrewd, informed one. He seldom lost. I think that did earn him the antipathy of some of his rivals.”

“Anyone angry enough to want to kill him?”

“In an abstract way, yes. But I don’t think anyone would operationalize their feelings. After all the bravado and chest pounding, they are a pretty meek bunch. If they did want someone dead, they would hire it out.”

“Was Mr. Wudbine the subject of any litigation?”

“This is a litigious society, Sheriff. Anyone in business is constantly dealing with this irritation. But to answer your question, nothing of any consequence. And to respond to the follow-up question that you haven’t asked yet, he was not subject to any criminal complaints, none, either at the federal or state level.”

“How did you get along with your father-in-law?” asked Sue.

“We were,” she paused for a long moment and stared past them, “we were great friends. Malcolm was an exceptional man. Why anyone would choose to harm him is beyond comprehension. Once all of this is taken care of, I will allow myself to grieve.”

“I’m trying to get a sense of where everyone was Saturday evening. Before going to the Assembly Building, where did you start from, who did you see…would you provide a scenario of everything that happened until I met with you in the green room.”

“I was at our cottage waiting for Elliott. He flew commercial to Traverse City, Alyson Mickels and Malcolm picked him up in the Bell. He arrived just about the time I was leaving. On the way I fell in with the group coming from Verity’s gala. I don’t quite understand the wisdom of drinking before you go onstage. But I am a total neophyte, unaware of the customs and traditions of theatre people.”

“So you’d never been in a play before?”

“No, never.”

“What prompted you to participate?”

“Forty, suddenly being forty. Realizing my life is half gone. I needed to do something new. I needed to explore. Malcolm encouraged it, said it would be good for me.”

“And you enjoyed the experience?”

“Very much so…until….”

“So you joined the group walking to the theater. Continue from that point, please.”

“I put on my makeup, got into my costume, and started reviewing the script. I had done well in the rehearsals. In fact, I was often prompting my fellow actors with lines as well as giving my own. I found a quiet corner and tried to filter out the hubbub and concentrate on my part.”

“Where were you located at this point?”

“Initially, I was in the green room, but it was too noisy, so I found a place in the women’s dressing room. Once the curtain went up, I came back to the green room so I’d be ready to go onstage. I have a brief appearance in the middle of the first scene. After that I went to the green room.”

“Did you see Mr. Wudbine at that point or before?”

“I saw him as soon as I returned to the green room. He was in costume and had these dreadfully awful wounds he wanted to show me. There was still a bit of a boy in him, most endearing. I told him to ‘break a leg’—that’s something theatre people say—and he rushed away. He said he wanted to settle into his part. That was a joke. We both laughed.” Jill stopped and gazed around the room, never making eye contact with Ray or Sue. “Then it all sort of gets confused. I was sitting with the playbook, and there was the horrible crash of thunder. Then the lights went out. I don’t like darkness. Nyctophobia. I just sat and focused on my breathing, trying to stay calm, trying not to have a panic attack. People were talking, some using the glow of their phones to move around. Eventually the lights came back on, but somehow everything seemed horribly odd. I can’t put my finger on exactly what made me think that. Then Sterling came in with Grubbs. I just knew someone was dead, but Malcolm, he never crossed my mind. He was larger than life. I always thought of him as being almost immortal.”

“Before the lights went out, was there anyone around who shouldn’t have been? Were there any strangers? Did anything seem out of place or amiss?”

Jill’s answer was slow in coming. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I was into being Anne Protheroe. This acting was not easy for me. It took all of my energy. When I’m focused on something, I’m not very observant of the world around me.”

“You mention Richard Grubbs. He’s your father, isn’t he?”

“My mother, before she died, referred to him as my sperm donor. She was a very hostile woman. I don’t understand why she stayed with him. Yes, he’s my father, but we don’t speak. When I was growing up he wasn’t ever there. Physically he was sometimes, but not often. He was off in his world of books and history. He was always with his colleagues, with his graduate students, and never with us. Even up here in the summer, he was busy writing or doing research. He never had time for us.” She paused and for the first time during the interview, held eye contact with Ray for several seconds. “He doesn’t talk to me now. I don’t talk to him. It’s better for both of us.”

“Can you think of anyone who might have a motive to kill your father-in-law?”

“Absolutely not. His murder is beyond my comprehension.”

“You sent me a tentative list for interviews with other members of the family and household this afternoon. We are already running behind. Can we modify that and get this done today?”

“I’ve started on that already. People are waiting for my call. There will have to be one exception. My mother-in-law is not available. Brenda is physically and psychologically fragile. Her psychiatrist is flying in this afternoon. She may have to be hospitalized again. Is there anything else, Sheriff?”

“As his personal lawyer, you must be familiar with his will. Who would benefit from Mr. Wudbine’s death?”

Jill rocked in her chair—a slow, almost imperceptible motion—with her eyes cast down at her hands. Finally she looked up, not at Ray or Sue, just a gaze over their shoulders at some distant point. “Everything has been carefully provided for in an elaborate series of trusts. The majority of the estate goes to the foundation. Controlling interest in the corporation goes to Elliott. Brenda Wudbine is provided for. Most of the money is in trust to protect her financial future. We’ve had all of this in place for years, modifying the trusts from time to time to adjust to changes in the law.”