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Viper’s Alibi
There’s a mention of Viper’s alibi as her being with a member of the sound crew:
“If you must know, I was preoccupied at the time with a rather delightful member of the sound crew.” Her lips curved derisively, hands a blur as they fiddled with that pen - together, apart, together, apart. “You’d be welcome to confirm it, but I’m afraid I didn’t quite catch her name.”
Considering that there is currently only one worker that we know of using female pronouns:
“Not all gentlemen,” Patton corrected gently, setting down the plate of cookies on the stage. “Patricia, the one with the pretty braids, is a woman, and Omar doesn’t like being referred to with pronouns.”
Just a fun little fact I found! Let me know your thoughts!
#killthelights #quarantine @impatentpending
'Kill the Lights'! Youtube: youtu.be/HaWYh7YLazc Vimeo: vimeo.com/240239336
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Case File #1: Roman Torres
Physical Features:
· On the shorter side, about 5′5″
· Dark brown skin, eyes, and fluffy hair
· Always wearing makeup with lots of red lipstick
· Soft, innocent face with high cheek bones
· Hourglass figure
Alibi:
· Roman demurred, blinking those long, thick eyelashes. “Technical difficulties, just like Patton said. I had a little trouble with my costume.”
· Status: Weak
Motive:
· To prevent blackmail: There was a reason Remy had been able to blackmail Roman. There was a reason the singer’s voice strained up by nature but kept low by choice. There was a reason he stiffened when Logan’s hands teased the edge of his waistband, why he was careful to never let his chest press against Logan’s.
· Question: Why does Remy want to blackmail Roman?
It can’t be because of Remy wanting Roman, mainly because of this: “Oh, he wasn’t Roman’s gentleman caller, if that’s what you’re thinking,” Patton corrected gently. “I mean, I saw Roman go into his box a few times, but never long and only rarely.”
UPDATE: “There weren’t any,” Roman said, softly. “He didn’t want anything. I think he just liked knowing he could ruin me at any second, having me smile at him even when I just wanted to–” Roman cut himself with a shuddering breath.
· Rebuttal: “Of course I didn’t!” Roman threw up his hands. “Why would I hire you and then murder him on that same day? I would hope you think more of my intelligence than that.”
Means:
· Has chance to pull out piano wire, as it would not be suspicious for him to be hanging around the piano
· Question: Why would he point out the missing piano wire then?
“And the piano’s broken again,” Roman chimed in. “I think one of the keys is busted.”
Extra Facts:
· “Good authors, too, who once knew better words,” he purred, leaning his torso, encased in a white shirt with golden rope accents, against the wall, “now only use four lettered words.”
· Slowly, discreetly, he nodded - five hundred micrometers of acknowledgement of this bond between them. “Anything goes.” It sounded almost like a warning.
· The music managed to quell the crowd until, perhaps five minutes later, Roman sauntered back onto the stage, smirking.
· “No rope burn,” Logan noted.
· “Let me illustrate for you, Mr. Torres, the specifications of this ‘bad business’. You had Mr. Salem accused of a false conviction and put a renowned private eye on his case, so obviously you wanted him out of the way somehow. A scandal, a conviction, a death sentence-” Roman made a noise of protest, but Logan silenced him with a snarl. “-you wanted him out of your way. Why? He was a threat to you somehow.” Logan pulled back, tugging at his tie and pacing the small dressing room. “You couldn't have minded his patronage; Mr. Parker himself said you call get paid because your employment is obtaining people's affections.” A dark shadow crossed over Logan's face. “As I so unwittingly discovered.” “Logan, please-” Roman held his hands out beseechingly, but Logan knocked them aside. “I wasn't finished!” He ran a hand over his slicked-back hair, trying to calm himself. “As I said, Mr. Salem was a threat to you. It can't be because of your employment here, because any member of the audience could unveil you as a… bent person. No, he had something else. Something that made him dangerous.”
· “I didn’t kill him,” Roman breathed. “I swear to you I didn’t.” “Your heart is racing,” Logan said, pressing his fingers deeper into the side of Roman's neck and watching his eyes dilate. “You're lying.” Roman shook his head and responded breathlessly. “Trust me, Mr. Sul. That's not the reason.”
· “Wouldn’t it have been more convenient to kill him somewhere else?” “Not necessarily,” Virgil drawled. “Public spaces and all that.” “Exactly!” Roman’s voice was triumphant. “He was big into oil and all that, right? You can get a ton of enemies whenever you’re in a dangerous business, and those rigs blow up all the time.”
· Roman could’ve worn this, as he secreted a piano wire into his pocket. Roman could’ve worn this, as he crept through the twisting maze of backstage, towards that rusty door. Roman could’ve worn this, as he snuck behind Remy Salem, looped a wire around his neck, and began to pull.
· “It’s rather queer,” Logan heard someone behind him murmur to their companion. “He never used to sing so many love songs.”
· “No,” Roman bit out, knotting a scarf around his neck with a vicious sort of single-mindedness. “I'm saying you wouldn't like me if you knew everything about me.”
· “You didn’t always hate Remy Salem, didn’t you? You must’ve liked him at first, thought him charming, even. Must’ve gotten close enough for him to find out about whatever secret you’ve been keeping so close to your chest. Can’t imagine how much it shook you when he sidled up to you with a cruel smile and made his demands.” “There weren’t any,” Roman said, softly. “He didn’t want anything. I think he just liked knowing he could ruin me at any second, having me smile at him even when I just wanted to–” Roman cut himself with a shuddering breath. “Regardless,” Logan continued, and he found he couldn’t look at Roman, not without giving everything away. “You had a problem, then. Someone held everything you had worked for, what you had dedicated your life to, over the fire, and as soon as he got bored, he’d drop it and let it all burn. You couldn’t let that stand. So you came up with a plan, didn’t you?” He let himself smile then, a cold and joyless stretching of lips. “You’re so clever, Mr. Torres,” he said softly. “More clever than you ever want anyone to know. You practice with the band every day, and you can know each and every song they play in advance. It wasn’t hard to tell which piano keys wouldn’t be pressed. You play it yourself, after all, so no one would think it strange to see you pouring over the sheet music, slipping your hands beneath the cover. Or maybe you did it earlier in the day, so no one would even see you. Either way, there was a string in your pocket, and a neck to twist it around.” “Logan–” Roman started, helplessly, but Logan barreled on. “But you knew the police would come if someone like Remy Salem died, and you wouldn’t do that to Patton and Virgil. So you needed someone else, someone the police had worked with before, someone they would be willing to hoist the case off onto and still placate the media that the case was in good hands. Maybe you saw me in the newspaper, or heard someone talking about me, but either way, you had that poor sucker you could twist onto his head, until he couldn’t tell left from right. I don’t know if you knew of my inclinations or not, but by the time you left this office, me trailing behind you, you knew exactly what you do to me. “You spun a pretty story about a stalker, about how scared you were, how I was the only one who could save you, so by the time I bothered to look past your red lips, I wouldn’t even see how wicked that smile of yours is. You showed me around, gave me a room full of people I could pretend killed him instead, and in between songs, you slipped through that rusting door. Maybe you lifted the keys from Patton earlier, or maybe you just used that smile to convince a worker to leave it unlocked, but either way, you had greased the hinges and slipped through. “Remy was sitting with his back to the door, smoking a cigarette or sipping a glass or whisky and generally looking bored with the world. The floors were thick carpet, so he didn’t even hear it when you crept up behind him. He didn’t realise anything was wrong until you wrapped that wire around his neck and started squeezing. He tried to scream, but you twisted even tighter. He struggled to his feet, and that wasn’t part of the plan, at all. You wrestled with him, but he was so much taller than you, and he staggered out of the chair, crashing into that pretty crystal plate and smashing it against the floor. But it was too late at that point. He fell to his knees, and you kept squeezing. “You didn’t know how long it takes for someone to suffocate. So you squeezed and squeezed, trembling, just like you are now, until you heard murmuring, and you looked through that one-way mirror to see that you’d been gone for the longest time. You left him there, slipped the wire back into your pocket, and sped through those twisting, turning corridors until you were back on stage. Smiling and beautiful and a killer.”
· “Oh?” Logan smiled a shark’s grin. “Then why don’t you still me where you really were during that impromptu intermission?” Roman, trembling, dropped into the chair across the leather chair across from Logan. His eyes were obscured by a mass of dark brown hair and his hands were shaking. He said nothing. “Look at us. It’s just like the first time you came here, isn’t it?” Logan smiled at him, a bittersweet flickering of the lips. “We were talking about your ‘stalker’, only I was thinking of your lips, and you were thinking of murder.”
Note:
Great possibility that he is a red herring, as why would the author lay it all down like this?
@impatentpending
Does Patton have a connection to Thomas Sanders?
With the newest chapter of Kill the Lights, so much new info has flooded in! However, since the chapter opens with Thomas, I thought this post should be about him!
There’s been a few pieces of dialogue that points to Patton having some sort of connection to Thomas, perhaps even being close to him!
Evidence:
Chapter 7: “No. At home. Some stupid accident. We didn’t know what happened until his body washed up.” A hint of color appeared on his face, anger and grief painting his cheeks red until it was washed away by the gray, and he crumpled down with a sigh. “I just miss him. A whole lot.”
Chapter 9: “–well, kiddo, Thomas always said–”
Chapter 10: “Oh, that’s true.” Patton nodded emphatically as the two rounded the corner into the main room. “When I was in Florida, I heard about this kiddo who went missing for weeks on one of those things.”
Chapter 13:
Thomas was floating just off the shore, face up. Dead.
Thomas sighed and shuffled around, resting his head in Logan’s lap. “Whatever fat cat owns the rigs is working us double time.”
This could just be circumstantial evidence, but if it’s been planted throughout all the chapters like this, there has to be some sort of purpose in these. Let me know what you guys think!
@impatentpending