by Jeff Siebold
“Oh, no, that’s all right. I’ll come back tomorrow. It’s not urgent,” she said. “All this police business is unnerving.”
Chapter 57
Zeke and Clive returned to Ardmore and stopped for a quick dinner at McClosky’s, an Irish tavern a long block from the Main Line. Clive chose the restaurant after consulting with his smartphone.
“We’ll stop for Shepherd’s Pie,” he said as they parked in the street along Cricket Avenue, almost directly in front of the restaurant. The two-story brick building looked as if it predated World War 2. The first floor was occupied by the tavern, and the second floor apparently housed an apartment that overlooked the street. Next door was an insurance agency on one side and an alley on the other.
Inside, Zeke and Clive chose a table against the side wall, Zeke looking forward and Clive watching the rear entrance. The server, a young Irish girl, brought them menus and took their drink orders. She smiled at Zeke. Clive ordered a Sipsmith Gin martini, and Zeke a local microbrew, called Conshohocken IPA.
“That was some coincidence,” said Zeke. “And we don’t believe in coincidence.”
“The girl, you mean?” asked Clive.
“Yes. She’s actually Dylan Jones’ half-sister, which makes it even stranger.”
“Oho,” said Clive. “How did you come across her?”
“When I was looking for the missing girl, Susie. Before she was killed,” said Zeke, “Catrin Davies was one of the teachers I interviewed.”
“Not on our suspect list, I don’t think,” said Clive.
“No, she was more of a school counselor type. She pointed me to some other people who were close to the kids and possibly more involved with the disappearance.”
“Is she close to her brother?” asked Clive. “Either one of them?” he added, referring to Luc Jones, also.
“She said not,” said Zeke. “But she must be. Let’s ask Sally for a ‘credit check’ on Ms. Davies.”
The server approached with their drinks and asked if they were ready to order. She rolled all of her “r’s” and Zeke wondered if she was exaggerating for effect. Her red hair was pulled into a long ponytail, held in place with a length of County Mayo satin ribbon.
“Shepherd’s Pie,” said Clive, quickly.
Apparently he’s hungry, thought Zeke.
“A good choice. And you, sir?” she asked.
“A Chicken McClosky, please,” said Zeke. The menu described it as a chicken breast, sautéed with shrimp and crabmeat in Grand Marnier cream sauce.
“Good choice,” said the redhead. Zeke wondered if she always said that.
When she’d left, they got back to the problem of Catrin Davies.
“So it’s possible that Catrin has been a part of the prescription drug sales all along,” said Zeke. “Her brothers were working together to source and distribute the drugs. She could have been involved.”
“It seems so,” said Clive. “So this fellow, Kevin McCarthy, he was hired to act as the head of the organization, but in reality Dylan Jones was the one in charge?”
“That’s what McCarthy said. And Luc Jones was sourcing the supply from Johnson-Matthey. That would make him a major player also.”
“And who do you trust more than family?” Clive thought aloud.
“Not just family, but a Welsh family,” said Zeke. “Cymry. Close and protective.”
The red-headed server appeared with a tray and delivered their food orders. “Will there be anything else?” she asked Zeke. He shook his head and she left them to their meals.
“Were both sides of the blended family Welsh?” asked Clive, attacking his Shepherd’s Pie.
“It seems so,” said Zeke. “Davies and Jones are both common Welsh names. And this area, Lower Merion particularly, is well represented by the Welsh community.”
Clive took another bite of Shepherd’s Pie.
“Did you notice the triangular key on Catrin Davies’ key ring when she held it out at the mini-storage facility last night?” asked Zeke.
Clive shook his head.
“It’s a unique key. It’s to an Abloy lock. They’re fairly rare, but it’s the same brand that was on Dylan Jones’ storage unit.”
Clive said nothing for a minute, chewing a forkful of the pie. Finally he swallowed and said, “So what’s next?”
“Let’s see what Sally digs up about Miss Davies,” said Zeke. “Methinks we’ll be visiting Catrin again,” he said, feigning a Welsh accent.
“I think I’ll stay in town for the rest of it,” said Clive. “I hate missing the action. Besides, you’ll need protection.”
Zeke looked at him for a silent moment and smiled.
* * *
“Quite a surprise,” said Sally.
She’d called the next morning on a secure line, and Zeke and Clive were sitting at the small wooden table in Zeke’s hotel room, with Sally on the speaker. Kimmy was sitting on the bed, a few feet away. The table held a cup of coffee and a small pot of tea and two teacups.
“Do tell,” said Clive.
Zeke was quietly introspective this morning.
“Well, in any order, here goes. Catrin Davies is a teacher at Brecknock school, has been for about sixteen years,” she said. “Lives alone and has never married. She owns the home she lives in, as well as a number of rental properties in that area of the world.”
“Anything in Conshohocken?” asked Zeke.
“Umm, let’s see,” said Sally. “Yes, here’s a property on West 6th Avenue, a couple blocks off the main road. It’s a one-story brick duplex, according to the County Real Estate Assessor’s file picture.” She read the address.
“That’s the house where Dylan parked the Subaru. Luc Jones’ home,” said Zeke.
“That makes sense,” said Kimmy.
“But it puts the two of them together much more recently than Miss Davies led us to believe,” said Zeke. “What else, Sally?”
“No criminal record, and she has very good credit. No mortgage and no debt,” said Sally. “No military service. Her parents died years ago. The newspapers said they were involved in a mob hit of some kind.”
“Not an automobile accident?” asked Zeke.
“Anything but. They were eating dinner at an Italian restaurant in Philadelphia when two men walked in and shot them. According to the paper, they were the only ones injured, and the shooters exited through the back door. No robbery, hence the characterization of ‘mob hit’.”
“Indeed,” said Clive. “Can you get a copy of the police report for that crime?”
“I can,” said Sally.
“It also says that Catrin Davies has a handgun registered to her. This didn’t come up before when I was checking on the people involved, because her name wasn’t on the list.”
“Right,” said Zeke. “She started out peripheral to all of this, back when I was first looking for the missing kids.”
“Apparently, she’s more central to it than we thought,” said Clive.
Kimmy had gotten up off the bed and was leaning past Clive, pouring tea in her cup. “Pardon,” she said.
“Close quarters,” said Clive, leaning back a bit awkwardly.
“What type of gun?” Kimmy asked Sally.
“It’s a small bore target pistol, a .22 it says here.” It sounded like Sally was reading, perhaps from the registration papers on her screen. “She has a concealed carry permit for it, too.”
“Were you able to check the school records for Miss Davies?” asked Zeke. “I wonder if she was on the target pistol team like her stepbrother was.”
“No record that she was,” said Sally. “But it seems that she grew up with a sharpshooter.”
“Uh-huh,” said Clive. “We’d better get her off the streets.”
Chapter 58
“Thanks for seeing me, Catrin,” said Zeke, after she showed him into her library. The sun was shining brightly through the big window, and the garden beside the house was green and lush. “I see why you like this room.�
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“It is nice,” she commented. “How can I help you today, Mr. Traynor?” She flashed her sparkling smile, sat and leaned in toward Zeke a little, polite and curious.
Zeke stood near the second chair, the one he’d sat in during his earlier visit.
“Well, I think we have it mostly right,” said Zeke. “But I’d like to fact check all of this with you.”
“What do you mean?” she asked, looking puzzled for a moment.
“Mostly it’s about your stepbrothers,” said Zeke.
Catrin relaxed a bit. “I’ll help if I can,” she said.
“So as far as we can tell, Dylan was in charge of sales for a prescription drug ring. He had drugs in his house and in his car, the Subaru.”
“Drugs? He was in charge?” asked Catrin. “I haven’t seen him in years.”
Zeke smiled and nodded. “Luc was procuring – stealing, actually – about eight pounds of opiates at a time from his employer, Johnson-Matthey. They were basically in bulk form, and he snuck them out of the chemical plant using a drone, flying them out at night. They were initially delivered to the factory by train using the rails behind the plant.”
“Interesting,” said Catrin.
“Yes, he arranged for them to leave the plant by drone in areas not covered by the security cameras. He flew over them or on the blind side of the building.”
“I see,” said Catrin.
“And he had a chemist in Conshohocken who tested and capsulized the drugs,” said Zeke.
“Really?” she said.
“The chemist is Chet Burns. Dylan and Luc would hide the pills in a storage unit until delivery day, then overnight them to the dealers in Philadelphia.”
“How long was all this going on?” she asked, seemingly engaged.
“For about four years, we think. Luc worked at the plant for almost six years, but it probably took some time to set up the thefts.”
She nodded and looked at Zeke with a pleasant smile. “I’m very surprised,” she said.
“Did you finish your book, Here Be Dragons?” asked Zeke.
“I did. I’ve decided to include it in the curriculum next year.” She looked at the tabletop beside her for a moment.
Zeke nodded. “Good. Well, back on point, I think there’s more to it.”
“How do you mean?” asked Catrin.
“Your brother Dylan was good with a target pistol.”
“Yes, he was,” said Catrin. “Very good. After high school.”
“The two kids who were killed in Ardmore were shot at close range with a .22. But there was no gunshot residue on them, which makes the range of the shooting at least five feet.”
Catrin nodded and furrowed her brow for a moment. “You think Dylan killed them?”
“I do,” said Zeke. “I think Will Burns overheard something, maybe from his father, and tried to blackmail Dylan. So Dylan killed Susie Lopper and Will Burns, and then Dylan and Luc moved their bodies to the dumpster after they were dead. Probably using Dylan’s Subaru hatchback in the middle of the night.”
“Really?” she said.
“And I think Dylan and Luc were the ones who killed Chet Burns’ wife last year. Shot her in her bedroom.”
“Oh, my,” said Catrin Davies. “I can’t imagine.”
Zeke nodded. “To keep Chet in line. He was trying to break with them. I’m also convinced that you’re involved in all of this.”
“What? Me?” she stuttered. “Why me?”
“You showing up at Storage Nation just after the police arrested Dylan was a big coincidence,” said Zeke. “Too big. Plus when you held out your keys, I noticed the distinctive, triangular key. It fit the lock that was on Dylan Jones’ storage unit. It’s an Abloy padlock.”
“What are you saying?” asked Catrin. “That’s ridiculous.”
Suddenly there was a gun in her right hand, pointed directly at Zeke’s chest.
“Apparently, I was right,” he said quietly.
* * *
“Let’s go for a walk,” said Catrin Davies. She smiled again, but the gun didn’t waver. “You first, out the door and turn left.”
“Sure,” said Zeke. He turned slowly toward the door of the library.
“We’re going to walk to the back of the house,” said Catrin. “Slowly. Then we’re going outside to the garage. Move very carefully, as I’m very good with this gun, and I feel a touch nervous.”
Zeke nodded as he stepped into the hallway and around the corner. “So you shot the kids?” he asked.
“The Burns boy was getting in the way. He came to me and threatened to go to the police if I didn’t fund his summer vacation. He said he wanted to get out of Ardmore and travel around the country with his girlfriend. He was arrogant.”
Zeke looked at her over his shoulder. She smiled a small, pitiful smile.
“Keep going,” she said.
He did.
“How did he find out about the drugs?” Zeke asked.
“From his father. Chet Burns is our chemist. He’s been involved with us for quite some time. I don’t know whether he told the boy or just let it slip somehow, but it was a fatal mistake,” said Catrin.
“And the girl?”
“She knew too much. She was here with Will,” said Catrin. “Someone was bound to talk.”
They walked through the large kitchen, and Zeke stopped, awaiting instructions.
“Out the back door,” said Catrin. “Slowly.”
“You set the whole thing up, then,” said Zeke.
“Our father ran it before he was killed. Not controlled substances though. It was a more traditional approach, with dealers and enforcers and face-to-face distribution. That allowed for the typical problems you have with an organization like that,” she said.
“He was murdered?” asked Zeke.
“A gang was trying to move in on his operation, and he pushed back. So they killed him,” said Catrin.
“And you took over?” asked Zeke.
“We left it alone for a while, and then we reinvented it. With a lot of patience and planning. Luc had to get into the Johnson-Matthey plant, and we needed a cut-out in leadership, a Kevin McCarthy-type. And we upgraded and organized a whole different type of distribution plan—you know—the UPS drug deliveries, PayPal and burner phones,” she said, matter of factly. “Go on, out the door.”
Zeke stepped into the small space between the kitchen counter and the door, and half-turned to face Catrin, his hands partially raised in surrender. She paused, a puzzled look crossing her face.
“Catrin, you don’t need to do this,” Zeke started, taking a step back toward the kitchen.
In response, Catrin stepped closer, keeping Zeke’s chest in her sights. “Oh, but I do,” she said.
No sparkle in her smile now, thought Zeke. All business. “What’s in the garage?” he asked, as he took another small step backward, into the kitchen proper. He stopped and moved his hands side to side as if in a nervous motion. She moved closer in a strange, slow motion dance, her gun extended and unwavering in front of her.
“My car. We’re going for a ride.” She turned her head for a quick moment, looking down.
Zeke immediately knew that she was lying. Prior to this, Catrin had maintained a confident eye contact with him. He knew that looking down and away is often a sign of discomfort, the result of a lie.
“OK,” he said, nodding his head, hands still moving slowly. “Just don’t shoot me.” He stepped back again, away from the door and to the near side of the island. “You shot Susie Loper,” he said, his voice flat.
“Those damned kids. They came to me asking for money. When I said no, Will started threatening me. He said he’d tell everyone that I was involved in selling illegal drugs.”
“He knew from his dad, you said?” asked Zeke.
“His big mouth father told him that we were selling drugs and that we had a lot of money.”
“You said he was your chemist,” said Zeke, keeping Catrin talking.<
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“And he was a loose cannon all along. We had to show him we were serious, keep him in check,” said Catrin with a faint smile.
“You shot his wife?” asked Zeke.
“Dylan did. Chet was trying to quit, but we couldn’t allow that. So Dylan and Luc killed her to send him a message. It worked, too,” said Catrin.
“And you shot the kids, and Dylan and Luc moved the kids’ bodies to Suburban Square? Put them in the dumpster?” asked Zeke.
She nodded slightly, lost in thought.
Almost unconsciously, Catrin stepped closer in the tight quarters to maintain an unobstructed view of Zeke. She held the gun comfortably at chest height, pointed at Zeke’s heart. They were now two feet apart. She took a step closer, her gun inches from his chest. “Let’s go. Move.”
That should do it, thought Zeke.
Zeke said, “No, really, Catrin, you don’t have to...”
He stepped in and pivoted to the side, to her right, away from the loaded pistol. With his left hand, he slapped the side of her gun, keeping it pointed past him. Then, using both hands he pulled and twisted her wrist, extending her arm and pointing the pistol at a spot behind him. Her gunhand was now upside down and her arm tucked under his.
She winced at the pain in her elbow and fell to one knee to relieve the pressure from the standing armlock.
With his right hand on the barrel Zeke twisted the gun against her fingers and out of her grip, then pointed it at her. “Sit down,” he said.
Catrin was slowly rubbing her elbow. She looked at Zeke and slowly sank to the kitchen floor, her legs crossed.
He slid the gun into his belt at the small of his back.
“I can make you rich,” she said, as if nothing had happened. “I can make you very rich.”
“Not a priority,” said Zeke. “For me, at least.”
Chapter 59
Catrin looked at the back door and then looked away.
Zeke caught the glance and turned just in time to see Chet Burns enter the kitchen, an Ithaca shotgun held across his chest with both hands.
Model 37, thought Zeke. Very effective weapon.
