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director’s death. Would you do me a terribly big favor? I need to check on Sharon Fletcher, the girl who’s been arrested for Karen’s murder.”
    Polly stopped and listened for a moment. “I promise, I’m not getting involved with the crime investigation. I swear! I just want to see how Sharon’s doing in that horrible jail cell.” She appeared to listen a moment longer, then added, “Scout’s honor, I won’t interfere one teensy bit. But if you could get me in to see Sharon, I’d be awfully grateful. How grateful?” Polly paused and whispered something into the phone and then sniggered. “You’re good when you’re bad. Is today too soon? Brilliant. Yes, of course I remember where the jail is. I’ve spent rather a lot of time there over the past few months. Thank you, Precious Buns.” Then she hung up the phone.
    “Let’s go!” Polly slugged back the rest of her flute of champagne before walking out of the great room. “We’re off to visit Sharon.”
     
    Sharon Fletcher’s physical appearance was what one would expect from a guest of any jail. She was disheveled. Gone was her makeup, which had hidden a freckled nose. Her lacquered nails were clipped and stripped of polish. Her shoulder-length hair was no longer L’Oreal “I’m worth it” silky smooth, but rather Brillo pad “I’m a wreck, and don’t I show it?” In other words, she looked like a troll doll on suicide watch.
    Polly was momentarily taken aback by Sharon’s unflattering new look. “We can’t touch or hug,” Polly finally said, “so please accept this.” She blew a kiss to Sharon, who forced a smile and would have returned the gesture if her hands weren’t shackled by a pair of cuffs and chained to her chair. “My dear,” Polly began, “I don’t believe for one instant that you killed Karen Richards. But why did you tell all those lies to the police? I personally saw your car at the theater.”
    Sharon bowed her head. After a long moment of silence she said, “All my life, whenever I thought I might be in trouble, the first thing I do is try to cover my butt. That was my natural reflex when the police showed up. I figured that no one would have believed me if I’d admitted to being at the theater apparently moments before Karen was killed. So I played dumb and pretended to have a cold and said that I’d been sick in bed all day.”
    “What about the fact that the police found your Emmy with Karen’s blood all over it, and your cell phone next to the body?” Polly asked. “It had your fingerprints and Karen’s all over it.”
    Sharon began to explain. “I was mad at Gerold Goss and threw my phone at him. It bounced off his big grizzly bear body and Karen must have picked it up after I stormed out of the theater.”
    Polly did a double take. “Gerold Goss was in the theatre? You saw him?”
    “It’s hard to miss a man who looks like Pavarotti’s fatter twin brother.”
    Polly heaved a deep sigh. “But Gerold said he was…” She stopped herself. “Let’s go back to the beginning. Tell me what happened and why you were at the theater so early in the first place.”
    “I received a call from Karen at seven,” Sharon began. “She asked if I could come to the theater before the rest of the cast arrived because there was something personal she wanted to discuss with me. She said it wasn’t good news but that she wanted to talk to me about it in person. With all the animosity between her and Gerold, I thought maybe she was quitting and wanted me to be the first to know. It never dawned on me that I was getting fired.”
    Polly blanched. “Why were you being let go? You and I are the only real names in the cast.”
    “Don’t be naive,” Sharon scoffed. “It’s the oldest reason in the book. The horny artistic director wants his little Lolita to have the role. Someone helped me that way once. I guess it’s payback time.”
    “But you’ve got an Emmy! Or at least you did until the police got hold of