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are it wasn’t a ghost,” Frank interjected, then explained what he had discovered and what he thought it meant.
    â€œWhether it’s a ghost or incompetence or sabotage, I’m not risking my skin another day here!” Lista fumed.
    â€œYou have to give me two weeks notice so that I can replace you,” Mr. Paul pleaded with him.
    â€œMy union allows me to walk immediately if working conditions are unsafe,” Lista replied firmly, handing Mr. Paul the stage manager’s prompt book. “These conditions aren’t just unsafe, they’re deadly.”
    Lista stormed off the stage, passing Timothy Jeffries in the aisle. “Good heavens, now what?” Jeffries exclaimed, scowling at the sight of the wrecked scenery.
    Frank noticed Emily Anderson sitting off to the side away from the action and recalled Chris’s concern that she hadn’t moved as she had been directed a moment before the set piece fell.
    â€œYou sure are lucky you stayed down on the edge of the stage, Ms. Anderson,” Frank said, acting concerned so that his words wouldn’t sound like an accusation. “If you had gone to the classroom, you might have been badly hurt.”
    â€œYes, Emily, that’s right,” Mr. Paul said, having had his memory jogged by Frank’s comment. “Why did you change your blocking?”
    â€œI felt it would be more effective to stay downstage until the scene was fully set, and then walk into it,” she replied, undaunted. “So I tried it.”
    â€œYou have to admit, it does seem a bit suspicious,” Mr. Paul said.
    Emily rose to her feet. “I don’t have to admit anything,” she said icily, then walked off the stage.
    â€œIt appears you have a mutiny on your hands, Mr. Paul,” Jeffries remarked.
    As Joe watched Emily Anderson storm up the aisle, his eye caught some movement in one of the private box seating areas. The curtain behind the plush chairs had been pulled aside. A face was peeking through, but the moment Joe focused on it, it disappeared.
    â€œSomeone’s behind that curtain!” Joe called to the others.
    â€œShow yourself, whoever you are!” Mr. Paul shouted. No one responded.
    Joe jumped off the stage. “How do I get to those seats?” he yelled over his shoulder.
    â€œI’m sorry!” a voice above him called out. A man in a work shirt and tool belt stepped timidly through thecurtain of the private box. “I heard the crash and peeked in—it’s none of my business.”
    â€œWhat is your business?” Mr. Paul demanded.
    â€œI’m an electrician,” the man replied. “I was just—”
    â€œHe’s an electrician, I can verify that,” Jeffries interrupted. “After the incident with the lights, I wanted to be sure there wasn’t a problem with the electrical wiring in the theater.”
    â€œWould you mind showing us your identification?” Joe asked.
    â€œWhy, you impudent little—” Jeffries snapped at Joe.
    â€œI don’t mind,” the electrician replied, and dropped his wallet down to Joe.
    Jennifer verified that his identification card was in order, then tossed the wallet back up to the electrician in the box. “So, was there a problem with the wiring?” Jennifer asked.
    â€œNo, it’s installed to B.S.I. standards,” the electrician replied. “You’ve passed inspection.”
    â€œThank you,” Jeffries said to the electrician. “If you’ll meet me in my office, we can conclude our business.” Jeffries now turned to Mr. Paul. “As for you and this circus of bungling fools you call a show, I don’t want any actors on the stage until everything is fully repaired. If one of their union representatives saw this—”
    â€œI know, they might close down our show,” Mr. Paul said.
    â€œWorse, they would give me a hefty fine,” Jeffries concluded before