Page 2 of Wild Sentinel

“Tell me who had access to the gun before the show?"

"All the props are kept in the dressing room. I keep the gun in a box with the blanks.”

"Are you the only person responsible for the gun?” I asked.

Ben nodded. "We don't have a property master. All the actors are responsible for their own props.”

"Who has access to the dressing room?"

"The other actors. The director. I'm sure the crew. It's not like we keep it locked or anything. It's open until after the show is finished and we get changed. People go in and out all the time.”

The forensic guys found a 9mm shell casing on the carpet.

"Does anyone else have access to the pistol?" I asked.

"Well, just me and the director, Hunter. And I guess anyone else who has access to the dressing room. But nobody else really has any business touching the pistol but me.”

"So you're telling me you loaded the pistol with blanks, and somehow a live round just got in there?"

Benjamin shrugged. "Yeah, I guess that's what I'm saying." His face wrinkled with confusion. "But like I said, I didn't think that weapon was capable of firing live rounds."

I shared a look with Jack and the sheriff.

"Who owns the gun?" I asked.

"It belongs to the director, Hunter." Benjamin pointed him out.

Hunter stood amid the crowd of onlookers. He saw Ben point at him, and he squirmed.

Hunter was a shorter gentleman in his mid-30s, with a slick head with tufts of brown hair on the sides. He had squinty brown eyes, square glasses, and a pudgy frame.

He certainly looked interested in our conversation.

"Don't you have any kind of safety protocols you go through when handling the weapon?" I asked.

Benjamin shrugged. "Well, not really. I mean, it's supposed to be a prop gun loaded with blanks.”

"When was the last time you loaded it or checked the magazine?"

"We use primer-only rounds in the pistol. That way, the bang isn't that loud, and we don't need hearing protection. But there's not enough gas to recycle. So it won't eject the casing. I have to manually reload after every shot because it is a semiautomatic and not a revolver. I told Hunter we should use a revolver for this, so I can fire multiple shots, you know, for dramatic effect. But he likes the aesthetic of the semiautomatic. His choice, not mine. Anyway, I try to reload after every show so I know it's ready to go." Ben frowned. "I usually check it once again before each show, but everything is just a blank right now. No pun intended. I honestly can't remember if I press-checked the weapon before I went out there." He looked at the deck while he thought about it. "I know I would have done that. It's a habit. I mean, I would never go out on stage without being prepared. It's like not knowing your lines, and I always know my lines."

"Is the weapon on your person throughout the entire show?" I asked.

"No. I leave it in the box. I have a few moments off stage before the scene where I come in and shoot Jonathan's character," he said, his eyes welling again, his throat growing tight. "I usually just leave it in the dressing room and grab it when I'm off stage. I come back and shoot him, then run off stage again.” Panic filled his eyes. "Someone must have swapped out the gun or the bullets. You gotta believe me. It was an accident. I didn’t kill Jonathan on purpose. I had no issues with the guy."

"What was your relationship with the deceased?”

3

"Idon't know," Benjamin said. "I guess we got along okay. He was a good actor. We didn’t really hang out much outside of the show."

"Any animosity toward him?” I asked.

Benjamin shook his head. "No. I swear, this was a total accident. You gotta believe me.”

"Can you think of anyone else who may have wanted him dead?”

Ben frowned and shook his head.