The director stepped forward; he didn’t need the megaphone. “Look at this,” he said, pointing to the photograph with a pool cue from the set. “This is how we were set up this afternoon for our first exterior of this movie. Find your own positions and remember them. Now, somebody on this shoot loaded a weapon with live rounds, and, as a result, our executive producer took one in the upper arm.” He indicated Boris Tirov, who sat, glowering, facing the crowd, his left arm in a sling and a whiskey bottle and shot glass on the table before him. “This is against our procedures and policies,” the director said. “Every actor on this shoot is an experienced performer and knows how we work. I exclude the crew from blame, because none of them had a weapon, so these remarks are directed at those who were armed. Anybody want to cop to loading live rounds?”

Nobody spoke. “I didn’t think so.” The director went to the photograph, took a black marking pen and drew two lines radiating out from Tirov. “Whoever fired the shot was within these lines, given the nature and position of Boris’s wound. Kitty is going to call out the names of those who were well outside the lines, and when she does, I want each of you to step over to the bar and wait there.”

The woman with the clipboard stood up and began calling names, and each person moved to the bar. They were left with sixteen people who had been armed and in a position to have fired the round. “Now,” she said, “as I call your name, I want you to come up here and point out where you are in the photograph. She began calling names, and each actor took the pool cue and pointed to himself, while the AD marked his position. “Okay,” Kitty said, “I think we know who our man is.” She took the pool cue and pointed to the only unmarked man in the photo. “His name is Baxter, or at least that’s what he said. Earlier in the day, production got a call from a man calling himself Baxter, saying he was sick in bed and couldn’t make it to work. I didn’t hear about it until this afternoon. Still, this guy signed in as Baxter. I remember him, he was sitting at the bar before the first scene was shot. After the incident, I noticed him leaving the general-store set. I asked him where he was going, and he said he wasn’t in the next shot, and he was going to the parking lot to get something out of his car.”

“Kitty,” the director said, “can you tell us what he looked like?”