HELL'S HALF ACRE a gripping murder mystery full of twists (Coffin Cove Mysteries Book 2)

by JACKIE ELLIOTT

  They’d flaunted their affair. Dennis quite liked the rumours. Didn’t all powerful men behave like this? Taking what they wanted, not caring what anyone thought, not even his wife?

  God, what had he been thinking? Nadine rubbing up against him in the office or at official city functions. Sometimes in front of Sandra. She’d behaved with dignity, never commenting, never causing a scene. Nadine, on the other hand, made no secret of her goal: to be the second Mrs Havers. Some nights, she’d phone, drunkenly screaming down the phone at him, threatening to destroy his marriage. Nadine even texted him the day after Inspector Vega confirmed Ricky’s death. She’d invited him to go to her belly dancing night, for fuck’s sake.

  It was all over now. Nadine’s last call was from the office. She’d been snooping around for him, keeping him updated on the new mayor’s activities. She’d told him about a developer sniffing around the old fish plant. Dennis had wanted to get his hands on that, but he didn’t care now. No, it was the name of the developer that made his heart skip a beat: Knights Development Ltd. Was it just coincidence?

  Nadine had tried one last time.

  “You know I always look out for you, Dennis. We’re a good team. We go way back, don’t we? We’ve known each other for ever, from the old days at the gravel pit and those crazy times . . .”

  Crazy times indeed. Dennis tried not to think of them, but in his mind he saw the old gang hanging out.

  “Hell’s Half Acre. Now there’s a place,” Dennis grunted to himself, half laughing. He knew he was drunk, but picked up the bottle anyway. It was nearly empty. His vision was blurred, and he had a hard time sitting up straight, but he swallowed the rest of the bourbon in one go.

  He thought he saw a man in the doorway. It looked like Daniel. He squinted, trying to focus. It couldn’t be Daniel. Maybe it was Ricky, come back to haunt him from the dead. His eyes cleared for a moment. He saw who it was.

  Dennis fumbled over his desk. Where was it? He’d taken it out of the safe — where did he put it?

  “Is this what you’re looking for, Dennis?” The voice came from beside him.

  Horrified, Dennis swung his head to the side and saw the figure half crouched beside him.

  “No . . . Sandra . . .” Dennis said, but the last thing he saw was a blinding flash.

  ***

  Sandra Havers woke. She was very groggy. She didn’t know what had woken her, but then she heard the click of the bedroom door opening.

  “Ricky?” she said sleepily, then she remembered. Not Ricky. It wouldn’t ever be Ricky.

  “Shh . . . Sandra,” a voice said. “Go back to sleep. You’ll see Ricky soon.”

  Sandra curled herself under the duvet. Maybe if she slept, it would all be different tomorrow. Maybe she would see Ricky. With a sigh, she closed her eyes.

  Sandra didn’t see the light or hear the crack.

  The bedroom door closed gently as a blood-red stain spread across the duvet.

  Chapter Twenty-Five

  The morning sun woke Andi early.

  It was only five o’clock. Hephzibah wouldn’t be brewing her first pot of coffee for another hour, but Andi wanted an early start today. After yesterday’s scuffle with that weird junkie at the strip mall, the meeting with the Souths and, to top it all, the belly dancing display, Andi needed to get her head straight.

  She twisted out of bed, rolled her shoulders and pulled back the curtain, her eyes drifting to the alley below. Rats competed with gulls for scraps of greasy food that fell around the dumpster. It didn’t matter how careful Walter was with the garbage or how many traps he put out, the rats kept coming. Once a year (apparently that was all he could afford), Walter called in pest control, but as the weather warmed up, the rats multiplied, and their population seemed impervious to any eradication method he tried.

  This morning, as dawn illuminated the rats’ activity, they seemed reluctant to scuttle back to their hiding places. The gulls landed in the dumpster too, and in the alley, pecking at the contents. Andi shuddered, closed the curtain and opened her laptop.

  Might as well get an article drafted about last night. Jim would be impressed if she turned up with a thousand words and might even cut her a cheque. As much as Andi sensed there was a lot to investigate around Ricky’s murder, she still had to pay her rent.

  An hour later, she was pleased with her first draft. Reflecting on what she’d written about Charlie, and Harry’s words last night, she was careful to be respectful of Nadine and the other belly dancers. If nothing else, they’d thrilled Walter. Andi suspected it was the best night they’d had at the Fat Chicken for a long time.

  She stretched and checked the time and then took a quick shower. When she was dressed, she snapped shut her laptop and grabbed her phone. She noticed a text message from Andrew Vega and a voicemail. Both of them said the same. “Phone me please, Andi. We need to talk.” She groaned. Later. Coffee first. Then she’d face the music.

  Going down the wooden stairs to the alleyway, she didn’t notice at first that the gulls didn’t lift into the air at her approach. She did notice the quick movements of the rats scattering and a piece of tinsel, she thought, waving gently in the morning breeze.

  At the bottom of the steps, she could see that it wasn’t tinsel at all. It was a piece of glittery material that had come adrift from a lifeless body.

  As Andi stared into Nadine’s open, unseeing eyes, she could hear a strange sound. It took a few moments for her brain to process it was the sound of her own screaming.

  * * *

  PC Matt Beaufort kissed his wife and left their new townhouse, turning once to wave before getting into his car for the forty-five minute drive to Coffin Cove. It was a bit of an inconvenience to live outside the town, and it was stretching the RCMP regulations to the limit, but Lily’s heart had been set on the tiny two-up two-down, with the new kitchen cabinets and the balcony overlooking the park. They could afford it, with a bit of help from Matt’s in-laws, his salary and Lily’s part-time wages from the pharmacy, which was also within walking distance.

  Life was good, Matt thought. He wasn’t supposed to work today, but Charlie had called him the night before and asked Matt to cover. He didn’t give an explanation, but Matt guessed he was feeling very low about the article in the Gazette. Matt didn’t blame him. Charlie was lazy. But he wasn’t a bad man.

  On the positive side, Matt was feeling pleased with himself. Although he’d been the one to inadvertently give confidential information to the reporter, he’d redeemed himself yesterday with the arrest of that junkie. He hoped it would lead to some solid information Nanaimo detachment could use. They needed a break. The drug problem was getting worse, with another overdose just the other day.

  He’d earned a pat on the back from Inspector Vega and approving nods from Sergeant Fowler.

  The last day off he’d had, he and Lily visited his in-laws, Anthony and Doreen Dupre. Another advantage of this posting was the proximity to Lily’s parents. His own family — what was left of it — was far away in Toronto. A car accident when he was only a baby had left him and his brother alone in the world apart from an aunt. She’d passed away just before he finished his RCMP training and his relationship with his brother had long since dwindled to a phone call at Christmas. But Lily and her parents had surprised him by turning up for his graduation and excitedly taking pictures of him in his ceremonial serge.

  He’d felt part of a family at last.

  Lily’s father Anthony listened gravely as Matt described his job and his daily tasks. He hoped, he said, for something more exciting than just the petty thefts he was dealing with at present. They often sat on the back porch of the house, while Lily and her mother chatted for hours over tea or went shopping. Matt knew he could confide in Anthony.

  When Matt finished talking, the older man got up from his chair and disappeared into the house for a moment. He returned with a wooden box and handed it to his son-in-law. Matt examined it. Around the sides and on the lid were First
Nations carvings, depicting different animals. Matt turned it around in his hands, admiring the artwork.

  “For me?” he asked.

  Anthony nodded. “Yes. It’s a bento box. Keep it in the hallway. When you come in from work, empty in your wallet, your warrant card, your badge, anything to do with your identity as an RCMP officer. With those items, empty your soul of the stress and hardships you’ve experienced in the day. Take on your role as a husband and partner with renewed calm.” Anthony paused. “It doesn’t mean you can’t lean on Lily for support — she’s a strong woman, like her mother. But if you bring home your workday — especially the horrific things you’ll see and hear in your chosen career — it will wear away at your marriage and your heart, understand?”

  Matt nodded. He did. Already, he’d had a few evenings when he couldn’t shake off a melancholic mood after a particularly hard day. Lily and he hadn’t argued, but he could see how the stress might affect their relationship.

  “And one more piece of advice, if you’d indulge an old man.” Anthony smiled, but then became serious again. “Try to see all the people you serve, both the victims and the criminals, as human beings. Even those who have committed terrible acts against others have a story to tell. They are all sons and daughters and have been loved by somebody at some time in their life. Everyone deserves a little dignity. See the humanity in your daily work life. What you see as excitement will mean tragedy for someone else.”

  Matt pulled into the parking lot, smiling at the thought of his father-in-law.

  Within minutes of entering the detachment, he was on his way out again. A dead woman had been found by the dumpsters at the Fat Chicken.

  Matt was the first on scene. He found Andi Silvers trembling in shock. He gazed down at the dead body of Nadine Dagg and tried not to gag.

  As Inspector Vega and the IHIT team arrived, Matt recalled his father-in-law’s words. He knew now that he disagreed with Anthony Dupre about one thing. This day in his career as a police officer, he failed to find any humanity at all.

  Chapter Twenty-Six

  He eased along the trail. It was dark, but there was enough moonlight filtering through the tall firs to guide his way. He was light on his feet and could recall the path enough to avoid gnarled roots and deep ruts.

  When he got nearer, he saw a pinprick of light and smelled a cigarette.

  That’s good, he thought. When he’d asked for this meeting, he’d wondered whether the man would remember how to find this place. They hadn’t been here since they were children.

  Once, the place was a refuge, a sanctuary. Not anymore.

  He was in the clearing now.

  The full moonlight threw shadows across the mounds of stones, making them appear like crouched animals waiting to pounce. A hunched figure sat on the crumbling wall of the chapel with his back to him. The tiny glow of the waiting man’s cigarette moved as he inhaled and then blew out smoke.

  He moved quietly, stealthily, feeling with one hand around his belt.

  It wasn’t until he was close enough to touch that his prey jumped and jerked his head round.

  With one swipe, he pulled the blade of his hunting knife neatly across the man’s throat and watched as the expression of shock on the man’s face dimmed and faded, as a cloud moved across the moon and the clearing was in darkness once more.

  Chapter Twenty-Seven

  Andrew Vega sat on the end of Andi’s bed. He wasn’t sure how to start this interview. He looked around the tiny studio apartment. It was L-shaped, and around one corner was the small kitchen and dining area. In the middle, an overstuffed chair piled high with laundry, and against the wall, a bookcase which clearly wasn’t big enough to house Andi’s library, as there were stacks of books all over the floor. She also had an eclectic assortment on her bedside table. Vega smiled inwardly. It was one thing he and Andi had in common. His own condo was full of diverse reading material, but his living space was neat and orderly. He disliked chaos.

  Andi sat hunched miserably on her pillows, hugging her knees. Vega could hear the hum of activity outside the apartment. There was so much to do, and they were still in the early stages of the Ricky Havers investigation.

  Thankfully, the coroner was already on the island, so it hadn’t taken long before she’d arrived and taken charge of the crime scene and the body of poor Nadine. She’d officially deemed the death as a homicide.

  “Her throat was slit,” the coroner said. “Competently too. One nice clean slice. No signs of hesitation or sawing.” She made a back-and-forth gesture across her neck, which made Vega feel slightly sick.

  Now, the parking lot at the back of the Fat Chicken was full of highly trained forensic search specialists collecting evidence, taking photographs and bagging and tagging every fibre, fluid sample and anything else the scene could offer. Then they would send every exhibit to the Case Receipt Unit, where every item would first be logged on a computerized system and then distributed to forensic analysts. This was painstaking work. It took time, and although Vega was always frustrated as he waited for those important results, he knew it was vital to every investigation that nobody deviated from procedure.

  Cutting corners now might allow a perpetrator to go free. Vega had seen how a clever defence lawyer could call into question the integrity of an entire investigation over the slightest administrative error.

  Vega ran a hand through his hair. Lee Dagg had to be informed of his wife’s death. It was the worst part of Vega’s job — any officer’s job — and made even more difficult because Lee Dagg needed to be questioned. Why was Nadine out here alone? Where had Lee Dagg been when his wife was killed? Until those questions and many others were answered, Lee Dagg was firmly on top of the list as the perpetrator of this heinous crime.

  But Andi had to be questioned first. She’d found the body. She was also in the bar all night, so probably had vital information. He needed Andi to be on her game. He hadn’t expected her to be in this state of shock.

  He sighed. Andi was a talented journalist. She coaxed information from people who would never talk as freely in a police interview. She was observant and intelligent, and many of her theories proved correct. But often, she worked with her intuition and gut feeling. He, on the other hand, was trained to work with evidence first. His cases were driven by facts, and he rarely allowed his mind to be clouded with theories based on nothing but “bad feelings”. And he was still really pissed about her article.

  This wasn’t a game. Andi’s work was important, but if Vega made a wrong call, it could mean life or death for some poor soul. Like Nadine Dagg.

  But now Andi had seen for herself the horrors of Vega’s job. He didn’t wish the experience on anyone, but maybe now Andi would understand he wasn’t trying to thwart her search for the truth — he was trying to save lives and seek justice for victims. It was more than a story, more than an article for people to gossip over. It was the end of a human life, and a tragic life-altering experience for those left behind. These were the people Vega served.

  Now wasn’t the time for a lecture, Vega knew.

  Andi was in shock, and Vega needed information. So as much as he felt a disconcerting urge to scoop Andi into his arms and at the same time blast her for the article, he needed to focus.

  “Andi, I know you’ve had a terrible shock. But right now, I need you to think back to last night. You were at the belly dancing event, correct?”

  Andi nodded, and for the next few minutes, Vega established a timeline for Nadine’s movements before she met her killer.

  “So you left the bar at eleven?” Vega asked. “Who was left in the bar?”

  “Yes. The performance was over and the other dancers had gone, I’m certain. Harry left just after. The bar was empty. Cheryl was wiping the tables, so she’d be able to tell you more. But Nadine was sat on a bar stool, and I thought she was texting for a ride or she’d got a text. She was definitely looking at her phone. And then I left and came straight here.”

  �
��OK. And did you go to bed straight away? Or go out again?”

  “No. I made some tea and made a few notes on my laptop about the belly dancing for my article, and then I spent a bit of time looking at some photos I got for my story . . .” She stopped. “I’m sorry about the article,” she blurted out. “I didn’t mean . . . well it didn’t come out . . . I, well, Harry told me about Charlie Rollins’ wife. I had no idea.”

  Andi looked stricken, and Vega took her hand. “Don’t worry about that now,” he said, thinking he didn’t know about Charlie’s wife either. “I need you to help me now, Andi. So let’s focus on the timeline. Did you save your work on the laptop?”

  “What?” Andi looked confused.

  “There will be a time stamp,” Vega explained.

  “Oh, I know what time it was,” Andi said. “It was twenty past midnight. I heard some voices outside, and I thought it was late for anyone to be leaving the pub.”

  “You didn’t look outside?” Vega asked.

  “No. Oh God, if I had I might have . . .” Andi clapped her hand to her mouth. “I could have helped or scared him off or something.”

  Vega shook his head. “You don’t know who it was, Andi. Let’s go back to earlier in the evening. Was there anyone in the bar who was taking particular notice of Nadine? Or behaving oddly?”

  Andi regained her composure. “Well, everyone was taking notice of Nadine. It was quite the show.” She managed an eye roll. “I didn’t notice anyone in particular, but you should talk to Hephzibah. She pointed out some guy who’s been hanging around the last few days. She thought he might be interested in real estate. I didn’t get a look at him because I was more focused on Nadine. But I thought it was more significant who wasn’t there.”

  “Oh?” Vega looked up from his notebook. “What do you mean?”

  “Well, Lee Dagg wasn’t there. I didn’t see him at all.” Andi hesitated. “I know this is just gossip, but it wasn’t much of a secret that Nadine and Dennis Havers were having an affair. They did kind of . . . flaunt it, I suppose. Even since Ricky went missing.”