NIGHT MOVES: The Stroll Murders

by Gar Mallinson

  On the other side of the main room, another room about the same size as the bathroom was fitted out with a deep working counter in a U-shape. Outlets were set into the surface of the counter and shelves ranged above it. On the wall near the door, a panel glowed with a series of flickering lights. Sabina explained about routers and surge protectors. Harry nodded and smiled as if he understood.

  ◆◆◆

  In celebration of the new office, he took Sabina to an island version of the ubiquitous Cactus Club in the north end of the city. In the Vancouver outlets, the décor was soothing, the waitresses in their short black dresses were stunning, and the food was exceptional. Harry was sure it’d be the same in Harbour City.

  Later that night, Harry was back on the street looking for any clues about Kylie. Sabina was back at her computers, and Will and Rory were still somewhere out in the bush.

  By midnight, Harry had covered the town a few times, talked to Sabina twice, and spread the word again to Sandy and her friends. He had nothing but sore feet to show for it.

  Will called in to report that all the kids were still with the biker, the place was still pounding out heavy metal, and that Rory would stay behind to watch. Nothing else. No Kylie, no bikes, no nothin’, just the old Toyota.

  ◆◆◆

  Morning found Harry and Sabina at the breakfast table in the loft discussing the three girl Fridays Sabina had found as possibles. She laid out three photographs and three resumes.

  “Okay, H, these gals are all well-trained grads from the university, but this one has the kind of computer smarts that would be good for us, since all our data are electronic. She has a business degree as well and should be able to run an office like ours. And I’d hire her in a snap if it weren’t for this lady. Which one do you like?”

  “The pretty one, but I’m a simple man with simple tastes. I know nothing about this cloud stuff, nor do I care to. I have a simple skill. I can find things, most of the time.”

  “You’re about as simple as a Gordian knot, and sometimes, like now, I wish I had Alexander’s sword. I gotta settle this, H. I want somebody in there on Monday. We gotta make some money, so quit pissin’ around.”

  He sighed. “I know we need someone fast, but front of house is entirely your affair and I’ll live with whomever you choose. Providing she’s decorative.” That started another round, and they were still at it when the doorbell rang.

  Harry looked at Sabina, shrugged, got up, and went down the stairs. On the street, standing back a few feet and looking up at the living room windows, was a woman. Harry watched her for a few moments through the peep hole, then opened the door wide and smiled.

  “I’m looking for a woman named Sabina, and if you’re Harry, I’ve found her. It’s a bit early, maybe, but I like to get going in the morning, and I’ve already been to the office, twice. No dice there, so I came here.”

  “I’m Harry, like you said, and she’s upstairs. You got this far, might as well come in. How’d you find this place?”

  As they mounted the stairs, Harry leading, the blonde said, “Phone book, reverse directory. You sure you run a detective agency?”

  Sabina met them in the kitchen, where she had made fresh coffee.

  Once they were all down, Sabina introduced the woman to Harry. “This is Isabella Norton, my number one choice for the office. How the hell did you get here?”

  Isabella looked at them. “Geez! If you guys handle all your stuff like this, it’s a wonder you survive! You both new at this game? I’d like to know you can manage to pay me every week, and I’m not so sure.”

  Isabella made to leave.

  Sabina grabbed her arm and pulled her back down. “Geez yourself! We’re neither new nor inept, even though he sometimes appears so. Let me guess, you’ve been to the office even though you knew it wouldn’t be open this early, probably more than once. Then, a bit pissed at waiting around, you went online, got a reverse directory, and decided to beard us in our own den.”

  Isabella, a bit shame faced, nodded. “I get a bit antsy loafing about, and sometimes it affects my mouth. Sorry.”

  “Appearances to the contrary, he’s really good. I’m new at this, but we’re an effective team. We’ve just reopened on the island, as I told you, and we need a competent woman who won’t take any shit and who can run a tight office. You were one of three possibles, and we like your attitude. If you want it, the job’s yours.”

  Isabella looked from one to the other. “What the hell, it’s an interesting part of town. I’m in.”

  ◆◆◆

  Rory sat in the alley behind a couple of trash bags. He had a half-empty bottle in one hand and an old hat sliding off one side of his head. He looked beyond drunk and he stank almost as bad as the sacks beside him. He wasn’t alone; there were one or two others sprawled in cardboard boxes along the alley’s side. It was a spot favoured by street people in Victoria because it lay beneath a dogleg in the alley and was partly covered by the overhang of an old building. It got wet, sure, but it was out of the wind.

  Rory’d been there for the best part of the night waiting for Bomber. The biker had swaggered down the alley hours ago, slipped through the plain metal door just beyond the dogleg, and climbed some stairs. That much anybody could hear, and he wasn’t trying to hide. The bike was in a lot a couple of blocks away, tucked in one corner out of sight of the gangs of stoned teenagers leaving the clubs and the cops who watched them.

  Rory had been in the alley before. It was well known, and the traffic through that plain metal door, although sparse, was interesting. The alley lay a bit west of the center of downtown Victoria, just off Johnson, close to the water. The brothel was upstairs, had been for years. It was part of the well-oiled, underground machine in the city, and everybody knew the fix was in way up the line. Nobody wanted to throw sand in the gears, not even the cops.

  Drugs and sex, the two most lucrative businesses in the city, were part of a much larger network that spread south into the states and east into the provinces. The parts that kept the whole operation functioning were the chapters of the Hell’s Angels spread around like turds in a dog park. Drugs, the hard stuff, came north; marijuana and some synthetics went south, especially from the island; and the sex was ubiquitous. Guys like Bomber ran chunks of it, drugs and sex, since it was impossible to separate them, and Rory, who knew more than the cops did, had spied on the local chapter on various things for years. So he sat, liquor bottle still half full, and watched that door.

  Bomber had left the house by the river alone. The three kids had been gone for hours. Rory had watched the house most of the night and had seen no sign of Kylie.

  He had hiked back to the road and the car Will had gotten for him, catching Bomber in Cassidy at the bar just across the bridge over the Mist River. The place was a biker hangout, and Rory was counting on the stop. Since Bomber had headed south on River Road, it was a piece of cake following the bike to the highway and on into Victoria. Rory’s job was to stick to Bomber like glue, while Will kept up the search for Kylie.

  A couple more homeless guys shuffled down the alley and took up positions among the cardboard cartons and debris. Traffic through the door remained steady until the street grew quiet and the querulous mutterings from the cardboard shelters ceased. Even the rigging on the boats in the harbour seemed muted as the night deepened.

  Slowly, the brick sides of buildings took on definition, and the alley’s shape and substance materialized. Rory watched as morning light turned the mysterious and vaguely threatening into the discarded refuse of the city, both human and organic.

  Before the sun was up and the dark had not fully retreated, Bomber came noisily down the stairs and left the alley. He walked over to a small restaurant at the bottom of Johnson. Rory followed, choosing a storefront across the road as a place to curl up while he waited. It was still early enough to occupy the entrance to a store; the cops began rousting street people only shortly before opening time.

  Rory gave Bomber e
nough time to get started on his bacon and eggs before he headed back to his car and changed. He grabbed a coffee at the specialty shop on Herald, washed up in the men’s room, and looking more like an ordinary citizen, waited in his car across from the lot that held the bike. The sight line was perfect.

  Bomber appeared on schedule, started up, and headed out Douglas to Highway 1. Rory followed all the way to Mill Bay, where the bike slowed and turned in to the big McDonald’s. Coffee and a rest room later, he was back on the road travelling north. Bomber didn’t stop again until he was back in Cassidy at the bar.

  Rory parked in the rest area next door and waited. It was still early.

  ◆◆◆

  Sabina sat down with Isabella in the reception area and explained what they wanted in detail. It took some time to get through to her about the nature of the relationship the office had with Will and Rory, and what she was not to touch, like Sabina’s workstation. Once that was done, they wandered about the place and discussed everything from clothes to computer software. Harry stayed in the inner office playing with the newly installed phone service and inspecting the coffee maker and supplies cupboard.

  The rest of that day, Sabina worked at her computer station, started electronic case files, and established encryption systems and firewalls. Isabella had left her to it and gone shopping for the supplies she needed.

  When Will arrived later that afternoon, they all gathered in the inner office, drank more coffee, and ate donuts.

  “I spent most of last night after I left Rory and the three kids driving all the secondaries,” Will said. “Nothing anywhere. Doesn’t mean much though, bloody huge area.”

  He took another donut and looked expectantly at Harry.

  “We all did a version of that last night, and we all got nothing. Sabina did the cyber stuff until the wee hours, and I stayed in town, along the strip, and in the south end. Just in case she came back from wherever she’s gotten to. Nada. So we gotta plan for today. Rory still out there?”

  “Far as I know. He hasn’t called. Means he’s still with Bomber. I won’t know what he’s doing until he checks in.”

  “Let’s leave him to it then and concentrate on our own search. I’ll check the house on Prideaux again, talk to Sandy, then check with Alicia and Kylie’s school and her buddies there. I don’t think any of that will pay off, but you never know and it’s got to be done. Sabina can keep going on the police end again, see if that gives us anything. Why don’t we meet here in the late afternoon and put together what we’ve got. It’s day three now. We don’t get anything soon, she’s either taken off or she’s not able to. Let us know when Rory checks in. We good?”

  They cleaned up the donuts, at least Will and Harry did, and got on with it. Harry stopped on the way out to tell Isabella that he’d be back in for the two o’clock and asked if she had any more info on the guy. He shook his head. “It’s Mr. Smith, if you believe that, so remember the name. He’s a bit flaky, if you ask me. Gave me nothing, but said it had to be you. Wouldn’t talk to anybody else.”

  “Let you know when I find him. See you at two.”

  Harry followed Will out, got the car from the lot across the street, and headed for the south end. This early in the day, before lunch, he didn’t expect much. The girls worked nights and slept days mostly, but you never knew. Some of the more enterprising hit the streets early, picking up before-work tricks. If there were any out, he’d spot them.

  He cruised the strip but got nothing. Then a grid search turned up one just coming out from behind the new construction on Dunsmuir. He pulled up beside her and she sauntered over, leaned in, and gave him a toothy grin.

  “You want company?” The cleavage moved closer. “I got a lot of talent.” The cleavage wobbled around the window edge. “I’m the best, you just ask around, whatever you like, Hun.” A hand reached for the door handle and she climbed in, skirt hiked high. A heavy floral perfume rolled across the seat ahead of her.

  “I’m looking for someone, not a blowjob. I’ll pay for your time. You want to cruise a bit or grab a coffee?”

  She squirmed around, mouth turned down. “Just talk, huh, you a cop? Cause I got nothing to say.” She reached for the handle again. Harry reached over and stopped her.

  “No cop. Just talk.” He handed her a twenty. “Down payment. More if we can talk a bit.”

  She paused. “Okay, Hon, but drive around, don’t fuckin’ sit here, okay? Reason I thought you’re fuzz, they hang around here sometimes hopin’ we goin’ at it in here, you know, so I gotta be careful.”

  Harry drove over to Albert and up to Milton. “Anywhere special, or just drive?”

  “Drive out Victoria, I know a place we won’t get bothered by nobody. What you want, then?”

  Harry told her about Kylie and her friends. She nodded. “Yeah, I know about them, like I heard, you know, don’t know them personal. I seen ‘em around coupla times, specially him, like, the skinny one with the ol’ truck, you know. But they’re tight, you know, word is they got a thing goin’. Don’t know nothin’ about them except seein’ ‘em, I bin up all night, just goin’ in an’ none of ‘em been around. Stop in here.”

  She turned to Harry. “What you want ’em for anyways? She special to you or somethin’?”

  Harry handed her another twenty. “Yeah, she’s special. I gotta find her. Another twenty for you keep your eyes open, I check with you later. We keep this going a bit.” Harry fished around in the storage bin, took out a throwaway, and gave it to her. “You just hit one, okay, and you get me. You see the girl, you call. What’s your name and where do you want to meet up?”

  “Gloria, Hun, I’m Gloria. An’ you want, I can watch nights cause, like, I’m out most of ‘em. I call, you meet me on the corner, Milton and Victoria, okay? You gonna pay me every night I watch? You don’t wanna, I don’t watch. Got stuff to do, you know.”

  “Every night, Gloria, until I say otherwise. You deliver on the girl, there’s a bonus, a big one, okay? I’ll take you back. Where do you want to go?”

  “How you gonna pay me every night? I gotta meet up with you or what? Go down here. Let me out near the school, I gotta get some fags.”

  “You call, every night, and I’ll meet where you said. We do it that way, okay?”

  Gloria nodded and climbed out. She stuck her head in again, cleavage beckoning. “Freaky, man, but I’ll look for you.”

  She wriggled her fingers at him and sauntered off.

  VI

  Alicia was barely functional. She’d been crying a lot, and the worry was there to see. As she talked, haltingly, it became clear that Charlie had been difficult about almost everything and wasn’t around that much. Hot dinners had virtually stopped, and she wasn’t leaving the house at all. Physically, she was not in the best of shape, but her appearance was the worst. Harry looked her over and decided he had to take her in hand a bit. She was wearing an old housedress, hair a mess, no makeup, and she smelled. He was gentle with her.

  “Alicia, how would it be if I got someone to drop in every day to help out a bit? You could get out for some air and there’d be someone here in case Kylie calls or comes home. Be a break for you. And you need to take better care of yourself, pamper yourself a bit. Kylie wouldn’t want to find you like this.”

  Alicia remained silent for a while. “I guess I’m not very good for much anymore. Charlie sure doesn’t care one way or the other. I’ve got to leave him, you know, I got to do that. But I’m so tired. And Kylie, I have to find Kylie.”

  “We’re doing that for you, Alicia, me and Will and Rory, so you leave all that to us. We know how to search for her. And you’ve got the police; they’re searching as well. There’s nothing more you can do to find her, so you need to look after the house and yourself. So that when she comes home, everything’s ready for her, okay?”

  Alicia looked up, smiled slightly, and thanked him. “I know you’re trying hard, Harry, and I know everybody’s doing their best, but she’s my girl, and I ne
ed her. I can’t leave until she’s here, I need her. I know you can’t work for nothing, and I know you have expenses, so I got a cheque ready.” She glanced around, confused. “Where’d I put it?”

  Alicia wandered about the place searching and Harry let her. He heard her in the kitchen, guessed she was making tea or coffee, got up, and went in. He took the kettle from her, filled it, put it on, and sat her down at the kitchen table. In her hand she held a rumpled bit of paper, which she held out to him. It was a cheque for two thousand.

  “I got a trust fund, Harry, it’s from that. My dad, he left us both something, Will and me. It’s been sitting there getting bigger. Charlie doesn’t know or he’d have it already gone. Find her for me, Harry, just find her. Tell me when you need more.”

  Harry made the tea, rummaged in the fridge, and made ham sandwiches for them both. Alicia drank a bit, ate nothing until Harry insisted, and then managed about half a sandwich.

  He took the cheque from the table and told her he’d have someone come in the next day, do the shopping, clean, make meals, whatever. It would be good for her to have someone to talk to. Alicia nodded, but her heart wasn’t in it, and Harry left her there slumped in the chair, seeing nothing.

  Once out the door, he called Isabella.

  “It’s Harry. Yeah, I knew you knew. Look, Alicia’s in bad shape. I need someone to come in every day for a while, clean up, make lunch or whatever, help her cope. Can you find someone for me? Set it up for tomorrow, maybe lunch ‘til dinner or something. I’m on my way back for the two o’clock.”

  ◆◆◆

  Isabella held up her hand when Harry entered the office. “He’s in there and he’s a beaut. File’s on your desk.”

  Harry peeked around the door, saw the back of a substantial, hatted head mounted on a substantial black-suited back, and smiled.