by Aimee Sharp
interrogation room and straightened his tie for a third time. The door opened and he breathed a sigh of relief to see Kane entering. “Thank God you’re here. I was getting worried.” Jacques said.
“I had to call Harriet to tell her what had happened.” Kane took a seat next to him. “Has anyone come in?”
Arenke shook his head. “I told them I wouldn’t answer anything until you arrived.”
“They haven’t got any real evidence on you, only the motive. This is probably a desperate move. They’re fishing, to see if you say anything.”
The door opened again and Palmer strolled in and sat down on the other side of the table. “Now your lawyer is here, we can get started.”
Arenke looked over at Kane who nodded. “There isn’t much I can tell you that I haven’t already.”
Palmer smirked and pulled out a piece of paper. “I want to ask you about this email that was sent from you to your head of security last month. You wrote, ‘Sparks is costing me a fortune, I wish the guy would drop dead’, and now he has.”
Arenke gulped. “That was a figure of speech and you’ve taken it out of context. I was angry and wasn’t thinking. I didn’t actually want him dead.”
“Interesting… because another email just last week says, and I quote, ‘Sparks needs to just disappear. Maybe we could arrange a car accident for him’. Again, sent to your head of security.”
At this point Kane raised his arm as a barrier to stop Arenke answering. “This is an argument about context. Do you have anything more substantial you want to ask about?”
“Actually, yes.” Palmer pulled out a photograph of a van and a witness statement. “I’ve got a statement here from somebody at the crime scene who saw one of your company vans being the getaway vehicle. Now, we took a plaster cast of the tyre marks left at the scene and have a perfect match to one of your vehicles. So I’ve got two emails from you saying you want your rival dead, I’ve got a witness placing your van at the scene and forensic proof to identify a vehicle, owned by you, used in a murder.”
Palmer looked to Kane, uncertain, unsure what to do. “I… I don’t…”
Kane held his arm out again to stop him speaking. “My client has nothing to say at this time.”
“If he says nothing then it makes him look guilty,” Palmer said.
“And still, he has nothing to say. So unless you want to charge my client then I suggest you release him right now.”
----- X -----
Watson sat at his desk, surrounded by the credit checks of Maeve and Edward Sparks. He looked through each sheet of paper in turn and put it in a pile at the edge of his desk.
Palmer walked over to him. “Have you found anything?”
Watson shook his head. “Nothing stands out, except Maeve seems to have a secret credit card.” He grabbed a sheet. “See, her husband pays for all her credit cards except one. Once a month she makes a cash withdrawal from the bank and uses that cash to pay off this other card and clear the balance.”
Palmer took Maeve’s mystery credit card bill and looked at the transactions. Hotel stays in Providence, the next town after Ambition Falls. “She’s in Providence a lot.”
----- X -----
Harriet picked up her phone, it was Kane Armours. “How is the investigation going?”
“I’m working on some leads but nothing big to report.”
“Did you hear about the van?”
Harriet narrowed her eyes. “What van?”
“An Arenke Industries van was used in the shooting, It’s their main piece of evidence. You should go look at it.”
She grabbed her keys. “Where is it?”
“Palmer has it.”
She sighed. “I’ll go talk to him.” She hung up and drove to the police station.
The station was different now, busier, more frantic as if their cases had to be solved before they all went home. The reporters were still waiting outside the door.
The desk sergeant waved her through and she entered the same room Palmer had taken her to before. Inside, detectives pushed past each other with files and documents spilling out of their hands. Had Palmer solved the case? Or at least did he believe he’d solved it?
Palmer was at his desk, his head held up by his hands, reading something on his computer.
“I need to see the van used in the Sparks murder.”
Palmer looked up, stunned. “The van?” He scratched his head. “Of course. It’s downstairs in the compound.” He led the way down to a lab where the Arenke van was. “You can examine it and take pictures. Just don’t touch it. Forensics are still working on it.”
“Where was it found?”
“In the Arenke garage with all the others. We took a plaster mold of tyre tracks at the scene that match this vehicle perfectly.”
Harriet snapped photos of the van from all sides. “Who do you think the shooter was? It’s not Arenke, he was at a public meeting.”
“I know. But he emailed his head of security about killing Sparks.”
“And what does he say, the head of security? What’s his alibi?”
“He was at the same meeting with Arenke. But it will be somebody close. Whoever did it took this van from Arenke’s garage, did the crime, then took it back. So it’s a small list of people.”
Harriet held her phone to the window and took photos of the inside and then the logo on the side. “Is there no record of who was the last person to have this van?” she asked.
Palmer shook his head. “No, they didn’t have much of a system for logging who used what. The drivers hooked the keys on a pegboard and took whichever van they wanted.”
----- X -----
Harriet went back to her office and laid the crime scene photos out on her desk. Maeve’s statement in her hands. She closed her eyes and imagined being Maeve.
She tried to imagine running through the cabin and up the stairs, she tried to see herself looking out the window but she couldn’t. She looked over the photos again and frowned. She tried to imagine herself as Maeve again but looked over the plan of the cabin and couldn’t do it.
I need to go to the cabin, she thought to herself.
----- X -----
Someone had cleaned the cabin since the murder. The blood on the walls was gone and the floors were sparkling. The broken window was covered in a plastic sheet that let in a draft.
Edward Sparks had died here, right by where she stood now. She matched up the death photograph and tried to imagine what it was like. It was unpleasant. The photograph was of Sparks dead, bleeding out on the floor of this room, lying on smashed glass. Maeve had said he was screaming for her to run… His last thought was willing his wife to save herself.
Harriet read the statement aloud and walked through the story.
“Edward had gone to open the curtains over the French windows. The moment he opened them, there was a man outside who shot him through the glass.” She stood by the smashed windows. The frame had sharp shards pointed like thorns. “I was by the fireplace lighting the fire when Edward fell.” Harriet walked to the fireplace and crouched down as though lighting the fire. “Suddenly, the windows shattered as the man came inside and Edward shouted at me to run upstairs. There was blood everywhere so I hurried to our room upstairs and called the police.” Harriet kneeled on the floor where Edward had fallen. The forensics said the first shot hit him in the stomach. They knew it was the first shot because there were tiny glass splinters with the bullet from being shot through the glass. Then the next three shots had powder burns from the gunpowder. Whoever killed him stood across his body and fired into his head from close range.
Going back to the statement she read, “Then I ran upstairs.” She followed the route of the action to the bedroom. Palmer’s report said she had barricaded herself inside by pushing a wardrobe across the door. “I looked out the window and saw a van with the Arenke logo on the back as it drove away.” She pulled out her phone and pulled up the image of the van that she had taken the day before. Har
riet held the phone to the glass and frowned. The logo was on the side of the van.
“That’s not right,” she said aloud. She opened Palmer’s report and looked at how he’d found the scene and the photos of the tyre treads. The van had driven away from them. It’s back doors were under this window and it had driven away… but the logo was on the side of the van, not the back doors. There was no way Maeve saw the logo from this window. The shooter could park the van there to hide, then drive away, but he would drive ‘away’ not ‘drive past’ and show the logo.
Harriet put her phone away and headed out to her car. She needed to ask Maeve some questions.
----- X -----
Maeve had seemed to become famous since her husband’s murder. She was now in charge of Sparks Corporation and was the widow of a popular businessman. She was invited out to lunch and dinner daily and had a tight schedule. She was photographed by journalists everywhere she went.
Harriet found her eating with the mayor at an exclusive restaurant just by City Hall. She waited in her car while Maeve ate and looked over her notes. She had no other leads except that Maeve couldn’t have seen the Arenke logo on the back of the van. But that might have just been a mistake.
Maeve finished her luncheon and was heading out the restaurant. Harriet stood on the pavement to get in her way. “Mrs Sparks.” Maeve flinched. “I’m an investigator looking into your husband’s murder. Can I ask you a question about your statement?”
“What is it?”
“You see there are some things I don’t understand.” Harriet pulled out her phone and brought up the photo of the van. “This was the van used in the murder of your husband except in your statement you said you saw the Arenke logo on the back as it drove through the forest.” She handed the phone to Maeve.
“And your point is?” Maeve asked as she handed the phone back to Harriet. Harriet scrolled the photos to the one showing the back of the van. “This van doesn’t have a logo on the back.” She paused. “It’s on the side. So how did you see the logo?”
“It must have just been the shock because they found the van used in the shooting didn’t they? I was so confused but I definitely saw the logo.” Maeve pushed past her. “I have to be at a meeting. If you have any more questions you can make an appointment with my secretary.”
Harriet stood in silence as Maeve got into her car and drove away.
----- X -----
Lucas Miles parked outside 17 Cleveland Close and got out of his car. His tenant, John Willis, was overdue on his rent and Lucas hadn’t been able to reach him. He knocked on the door but there was no answer so he used his key. “John?” he called. “Are you in?” When he got no answer, he looked around the house and headed upstairs. He pushed open the bedroom door and saw the dead body of John Willis, a gun in his hand and a bullet in his head.
Lucas sat down on the stairs and breathed deeply. He picked up his phone and called the police. “I need help. There’s been a suicide at 17 Cleveland Close.”
“Uniformed police officers are on their way to you now, Sir.”
“Thank you.” He was shaking, he didn’t know how he hadn’t dropped his phone yet. He walked down the stairs and stood just outside the doorway. The police wouldn’t get here for a few minutes but every second passed by like a year. Especially since the dead body of John Willis was lying upstairs.
When the police arrived, Lucas was sat on the steps of the house with his head in his hands. “Are you alright, Sir?” one of them asked. Lucas nodded shallowly. “What can you tell us about the victim? Who he is, how you knew him, things like that.”
“His name is John Willis, I’m just his landlord here to collect rent.” Lucas rubbed his eyes.
“Where is he?”
“He’s upstairs. I’ll show you.” He took the officers inside. Each step moved him closer to the dead body and each step felt heavier and heavier. He arrived at the closed door of John Willis’ bedroom. “In there.” He motioned to the door and stepped aside letting the officers go in alone.
He heard them whispering to each other as they looked over the scene. “We need the coroner” said one officer. “I’ll send a call out.” He heard them shuffling around. “Oh wait, look at this.” he picked up a printed note from beside the man and began reading it. “I’m sorry for what I’ve done. I’ve been in love with Maeve Sparks for many years and I killed her husband out of jealousy. But now I can’t eat or sleep with the shame. May God forgive me.”
“Sparks. That’s the Arenke thing in the papers. Right?”
“It is. We need to call Detective Palmer. That’s his case… and I guess, this was his murderer.”
