When I asked a few weeks back what YOU would like to see on this blog, some kind souls requested more from my work-in-progress, The Devil Inside Me. Allow me to introduce you to one of my favorite suspects, Elyse Baxter. Enjoy!
“And your name?” Delaney, lost in thought, had barely looked up when the next person walked up to her.
He looked more closely once the silky voice hit his ears and saw a young woman with long, dark chestnut hair and fair skin, devoid of make-up, sitting down across from him. In Davis’ mind, she didn’t need the make-up. She didn’t need much of anything.
“And Ms. Baxter, what is it you do at the museum?”
“I’m a preparator. I’m the preparator for the Holmes’ exhibit.” Delaney raised her head again when Ms. Baxter emphasized her “the.”
“What does that entail?”
“I handle and prepare all manner of artifacts for our exhibits. I coordinate with others to ensure proper and timely installation of our exhibits. And I was the lead preparator and project manager for this exhibit.”
“So you’re responsible for this display?”
“This exhibit,” she corrected. “Yes.”
“Uh huh.” Delaney made a few scratches on her notepad. The preparator smoothed her knee-length skirt and uncrossed, then re-crossed, her legs.
“How long have you been working here?”
“I’ve been with the museum for three years now. Prior to that I worked at the Boston Museum of Science.”
“Are you from Boston?”
“Not too far from it.”
Delaney looked up from her notes, waiting for Elyse to explain. She didn’t.
Again, Delaney paused, allowing for further detail. Nothing.
“Can you be more specific?”
Elyse Baxter sighed. “Philadelphia.”
“So you’re responsible for this display–how so? Start to finish?”
“While it is unusual, yes–I was responsible for the design and implementation for this–exhibit–from start to finish. I presented my concept drawing to Mr. Panetti two years ago, before the television hype and the movie deal. He sat on it for a year until he realized there was more than just a cult following.”
“There’s a movie deal?”
“Yes. Leonardo DiCaprio will be playing H. H. Holmes?” she asked with the same incredulity of Chapman.
Delaney continued scratching down notes.
“So then what? He agreed?”
“Yes. I had two other designers who worked with me to build the concept model, and–” She waved her hand with a flourish. “This is the result.”
“And when did you last see the disp–exhibit?”
“About thirty minutes ago, when the docent explained what was going on.”
“Where were you prior to that?”
“I was working in our creative space–it’s on the lower level, where my office is.”
“And prior to that, when was the last time you saw the exhibit?”
“This morning, at 6am. I was giving everything one more look.”
“One more look?”
“Today was the opening day for this exhibit. Surely you heard it advertised, Detective. It’s on the side of eight CTA buses. This is a central piece to our museum, to Chicago.”
“It’s also our first PG-13 rated exhibit. That generated even more of an interest from the public.”
“So you were giving everything a once-over before it opened up?”
“Yes. I was responsible for its execution, so I had to ensure everything was perfect.”
Interesting choice of words, thought Delaney.
“I don’t mean to be cold and unfeeling, Detective, but do you have any idea how long this…scene…will keep my exhibit closed? So many people were looking forward to it.”