“What is definite, obviously, is the religious language. It is constant throughout. I’d say this person is middle-aged, deeply involved with the church, comes from a strict fundamentalist upbringing perhaps with physical punishment, certainly imbued with the credo of sexuality as wicked. I’d say, they’re probably unmarried and live alone or with an elderly parent or older sibling with whom there is no communication but a deep tie of unconscious anger and dependency.”
“I agree with you so far. I’m going for a woman. What else?”
“The language is fairly literate, although as I said, English might not be their first language. They have at least high school education. A dropout. People don’t persist in writing hate letters unless they’re disappointed in their own lives.”
“The most recent letter says ‘things are getting worse.’ That could be a warning of increasing psychosis,” muttered Leo.
“It could for sure. Other than that, there is no obvious and clear sign of escalation. The handwriting doesn’t change significantly but the last letter is the worst in terms of the irregularity of the letters and the disregard for the lines.”
“So there may have been a tipping point somewhere between letter five, mailed on September 15, and letter six, mailed one month later.”
“According to the pattern of the other letters, the writer would have sent another letter pretty much to the day Deidre was killed. Except for the September one, they were all mailed on a Monday.”
Leo clenched his fist and pounded once on the table. “Why, damn it? Why the hell are they so regular? Goddamnit Christine, how many times have I sat in meetings dealing with exactly this sort of question? What is the pattern here? It’s felt so obvious before. We’ve all sat around feeling detached and superior. Oh yes, it’s obviously the subvert, travels out of town on a regular basis. All the crimes occur on Saturday or Sunday within easy access of Highway 11. Fuck it. I don’t see a fucking thing here.”
I had never heard Leo swear before. He rubbed his knuckles into his eyes, so hard I winced.
“Another apology, Christine. I didn’t mean that.”
“About sitting around feeling superior and detached, you mean? Apology accepted. Nobody I know has that attitude, except David maybe, but that’s about his pure lifestyle.”
“God. He’s insufferable. He can live on cucumbers and grass for all I care but don’t force your views on other people.”
“I’m with you on that one.”
I know we were dissing Dave behind his back, but first I felt the same way as Leo and second, at the moment, frankly I was treating him the way I’d treat a nervous witness. Find something in common even if it is a common enemy.
“Maybe a Sunday is the only time our man has to work up his nasty letters?”
“I suppose so.”
“We’ve got some pieces of the jigsaw. We’ll find the right places to make the picture soon.
He looked as if he were about to snap my head off again, then he smiled. A small curl of the lips but still a smile. “You always come up with the nice soothing thing to say, don’t you?”
That sounded vaguely insulting but I decided to let it go for now. I collected the letters and put them back in the plastic envelope.
“There was a DVD in Deidre’s locker. The girls thought it was part of the workbook for the class she teaches, but it’s not labelled so I brought it along just in case. Why don’t we have a look at it?”
“Good idea. My computer’s in my library.” He picked up my plate. “All done with your sandwich?”
I thought even the pigeons would reject the crusts that I’d left but he was trying to make nice.
“It’s back here,” said Leo, and he led the way down the hall, first dumping the plates in the galley kitchen. “I’ve taken over the master bedroom as my library. I figured I spend more time reading and writing than I do in bed asleep so why not use the best room?”
He ushered me into a room at the end of the hall.
He’d used the word library and he wasn’t being pretentious. The room was lined on three sides with floor-to-ceiling bookcases, all crammed with books. Like the living room this one faced out onto the lake and also had its own balcony. Unlike the living room, it wasn’t austere or pristine but comfortably messy, books on the floor beside a large plush armchair, a desk also cluttered, a thick rug, even a fireplace. Bright flames dancing merrily around a log.
Leo saw where I was looking and he waved his hand. “It’s fake, just switches on, but I like it. I grew up with a fireplace and a home doesn’t feel like a home without one.”
Classical music was playing softly from a sound system that even I, non-audiophile that I am, recognized as state of the art. He must have been in here when I arrived and I suspected this was where he spent most of his time.
He booted up his computer and inserted the DVD.
There was no audio or graphics but it was immediately obvious this was no workbook aid. It was a homemade DVD. The date running underneath said September 29. The background was very dark but a light was focused entirely on a pair of hands, long fingers, smooth, young skin. The subject was wearing a long-sleeved black top that disappeared into the background, making the hands seem disembodied. I’d guess male but they were somewhat androgynous.
The index finger of the right hand jabbed out at the camera, then there was a rapid movement of fingers.
“Deidre. They just spelled out her name,” said Leo. “I learned that much.”
There was a flurry of signs from the headless person, eloquent, fast, but it was impossible to determine what the emotion was. Happiness? Anger? I didn’t know and there were no facial expressions to give clues. Then the hands halted for a moment. The jabbing finger again, pointed at the camera. You. Both hands outstretched, palms down then quickly inverted.
“That’s the sign for dead,” cried out Leo. “I remember having to learn it when her damn gerbil died.”
The fingers of the right hand formed a v shape with the thumb in between.
“It’s a k,” said Leo.
The left hand was held straight and the right hand struck against it in a swift downward motion. You didn’t need to understand sign language for that one. It was like seeing somebody pretend to fire a gun.
“I will kill you. The bastard’s saying, I will kill you,” cried Leo.
CHAPTER FIFTEEN
We were crammed into Mrs. Scott’s small office. Leo had telephoned her immediately and asked if she would look at the DVD and interpret for him. He’d also asked if both Jessica and Hannah could be present. “What do I know? Maybe somebody who knows sign language can pick out idiosyncrasies of expression the way you pick out signature words when you’re analyzing statements.”
He had a point and I was intrigued to know if it would be the same.
Deidre’s friends were still very upset, especially Hannah, who couldn’t keep back her tears. I didn’t know how helpful they were going to be and I felt badly that we’d had to drag them out from whatever sanctuary they’d found. Mrs. Scott signed to them, speaking out loud for our benefit as she did so.
“I want you to try to pull yourselves together. It is important for Deidre’s sake that we co-operate with the police.”
Hannah replied with a flurry of gestures that Mrs. Scott translated simultaneously: “Even if we find who killed her, it won’t bring her back.”
Mrs. Scott replied, “Hannah, I know that is true but we all know how full of spirit she was. If the tables were turned she would be doing everything she could to bring to justice anybody who had harmed either of you.”
Jessica clenched her fist and made a gesture as if knocking on a table. “You’re right,” said Mrs. Scott.
“Tell them I particularly want to know if they recognize the person in the DVD. The hands are distinctive.”
Jessica didn’t wait for Mrs. Scott to interpret. She faced Leo.
“We will do our best.”
“The least I would expect,”
he growled. He was not being at all friendly or sympathetic to these young women and I suspected he was holding it against them that they had been closer to his daughter than he was, that they were bonded in a world he couldn’t or wouldn’t enter.
Mrs. Scott switched on the computer and slipped in the DVD.
“I’ll interpret, but Jessica, if you or Hannah want to interrupt, please do so.”
I took out my notebook.
The disembodied hands appeared on the screen.
“Pause there for a minute,” said Leo, pointing. “Do any of you recognize them?”
“I’m afraid I don’t,” said Mrs. Scott.
Both girls shook their heads but I thought I’d detected a quick tensing in Hannah.
“Go on.”
Mrs. Scott began her simultaneous translation while I scribbled madly to keep up.
“Hello, Dee…”
“Hold it! Does he say Dee or Deidre?” I asked.
“Dee.” She automatically made the sign. Forefinger raised, other fingers bent.
“Did you refer to her as Dee or Deidre?”
“I always called her Deidre but I believe her friends called her Dee. Is that right, Jessica?”
“Yes. Dee was her pet name.”
Mrs. Scott looked at Leo hesitantly. “This person must know her quite well.”
“Not necessarily. He, if it is a he, could be claiming familiarity as a form of contempt and intimidation. Isn’t that so, Christine?”
It was indeed. I’d known rapists who’d abducted victims, found out their names, and used a diminutive to demonstrate power over them. A woman who was always called Susan became Susie; Ellen became Ell; Karen, Kar. All the victims reported how disturbing this had been to them.
Leo nodded his head for Mrs. Scott to continue.
“This is a message from the anonymous man himself.” She stopped. “So it is a man!” she said, then continued translating. “I don’t usually look at the newspapers or TV, as you know, but by chance I came across the story of you and a baby you had made sure to be deaf. Believe it or not, I was in the crapper at the time and the newspaper was the only thing handy. Fortunately before I wiped my ass on your picture, I saw who it was. I thought to myself, Uh-uh. I might not be an A student like you but I can add up to nine as good as any man. According to the paper, your kid was born in December about three years ago, which would make her conceived in April. Unless you had a virgin birth, which isn’t likely. I had my doubts when you came on to me that time. I’m a modest guy. Why me, I says to myself? This chick is smart and cute as well. Very cute. She could have anybody, so why me?”
I glimpsed Jessica and Hannah grab each other’s hands. So did Leo.
“Pause a minute please, Mrs. Scott. Jessica. You know who this is, don’t you?”
This was not a good interviewing technique, and in other circumstances, Leo would have known better. Never ask a subject a question that you are also providing the answer to.
“No, I do not,” said Jessica. “Neither of us know him.”
I could see that Leo was on the verge of cracking and he lost it. He jumped to his feet, and standing only inches away from both young women, he screamed at them.
“You are a liar. I saw the look you gave each other. You do know who it is. You’ve got to tell me.”
Jessica hid her face in her hands and Hannah shrank away into her chair. At least the sound of Leo’s rage wasn’t hitting her nerves but his face was so contorted, you didn’t need to hear. I was afraid he’d start shaking one of them any minute and I got up and caught him by the arm.
“Leo. Cut it out. This isn’t helping. Everybody’s upset.”
He stared into my face, his eyes red and wild. I stared back as calmly as I could, although my adrenaline had shot up and my heart was racing.
“Would you like to take a break for a few minutes?” I asked.
He stepped back, took a deep breath, and lifted his chin to the ceiling, eyes closed as if he were praying. Then his shoulders slumped and he returned to the chair.
Mrs. Scott, bless her heart, was no wimp. These were her charges and she wasn’t going to allow them to be abused no matter what the excuse.
“Dr. Forgach, I quite understand your distress but you must promise me there will be no further outbursts like that. I shall not proceed unless you do.”
Leo knew that he was on shaky ground by even being here under the circumstances. He bent his head and mumbled. “I apologize. It won’t happen again.”
Mrs. Scott’s eyes met mine, soliciting an agreement from me as well. I wasn’t sure what I could do about him other than clap him in handcuffs, which I rather felt like doing. Leo was notorious for losing his temper. At least he didn’t discriminate. A lot of people, from clerical staff to politicians, had been at the receiving end of his anger. He tried it on me early on but I’m glad to say never again after that. I had developed a very thick skin against tantrums from a young age. I could give as good as I got and I didn’t have to raise my voice. Ice will reduce a fire to a splutter. However, I took the precaution of shifting my chair slightly so my body was more between him and the two young women.
“Are we ready to go on?” Mrs. Scott asked.
We were.
“We left off at, ‘This chick is so smart and so cute.’ … Now I thinks to myself, you went for me because you knew I wouldn’t stick around. I told you I was working and saving to buy my own sleeper van. A rolling stone gathers no moss. I’ve got one, by the way. It’s ten years old but does me fine. Even got the Scottish colours. But back to the point. You got me to … er, copulate with you,” Mrs. Scott translated awkwardly.
“What? What are you doing? Is that the word he uses?” Leo’s voice was loud again.
“No. But I don’t see why I have to repeat what he does say. I’m sure you get the picture.”
“I do indeed.”
Neither Jessica nor Hannah seemed fazed by the obscenity. I’d missed it completely and I have to admit I was rather curious about what the sign was in ASL. Probably the universal one.
Mrs. Scott hadn’t stopped the tape and she had to speak quickly to catch up.
“Er … I left as I intended. You didn’t seem cut up about it and I took that to heart. But I see now you had what you wanted. A kid you could flaunt in front of your parents.”
Mrs. Scott couldn’t resist a quick glance over at Leo to see his reaction. Hannah scowled at him. His face was tight.
“You wanted to embarrass them worse than anybody I knew. Lose it, Dee. It’s not worth it. When I got over my shock at reading the newspaper, I thought to myself, man, you have a kid, a daughter. I’ve always wanted to have my own family but who would have me? So it’s happened. I think she looks like me. She’s going to be a blondie. I’m making this DVD to send to you and I will follow soon. I’m going to park myself somewhere in Orillia. We must meet and talk. You can send a letter to PO General Delivery, Orillia, and I’ll pick it up. Don’t, er, don’t the F-word with me, Dee. You are dead if you do. You know me. I will kill you if you screw with me again. Signing off, the Big Bad Bogeyman. Zed.” Mrs. Scott added, “He uses the initial.”
Suddenly a face came into view. A young man, a straggly goatee, long fair hair, light blue eyes. He screwed up his face and stuck out his tongue. Then his hand appeared. Yes, it seemed the universal symbol for “fuck you” had travelled to the deaf language.
“It’s Zach,” said Jessica.
I managed to warn Leo before he leapt out of his chair again. He reined himself in.
“Who is Zach?”
Mrs. Scott started to interpret but he stopped her. “She can understand me. They both can if they want to. I’ll say it again. Who is Zach?”
Jessica’s face was sullen. “He’s a guy we were in school with.”
This must be Zachary Taylor, who she’d scratched off the list of males they were at school with. I was right. He was more important than they wanted to admit.
“Was he involved
with Deidre?”
“Not that I know of. He was a jerk, a loner. Like he said, nobody would go out with him but the whole campus wanted to date Deidre.”
Hannah tugged on her friend’s arm to get her attention and signed vigorously at her.
Jessica shook her head and Hannah turned to face Leo.
“He wasn’t a jerk.” She spoke with the guttural flat intonation of those who can’t hear themselves. “He’s a goo guy. He wouldn’t ave urt Deedee.”
Jessica interrupted her. “Hannah is jealous because she thought she was his special friend. She didn’t know he had slept with Dee.”
Hannah flinched at this betrayal.
“When did you last see him?” asked Leo.
“Not since graduation.”
“Do you know where he lives?”
“Nowhere. He bought a camper van and he just travels from place to place. It is his moveable home.”
“Did he ever show signs of violence? Did he have a temper?”
Hannah had been watching my face intently. “Never. He was kind.” She made a sign in the air and raised her eyes. “He giant. Very tall. A gentle giant.” She circled her own face with her right hand. “Not handsome at all. Bad skin but he is a kind man. He would not have hurt Deedee. He loved her.”
“Why does he say, ‘I will kill you’ then?”
“It is a joke. Hearing people say it all the time.”
True enough. I’d scolded Tory yesterday in just that way. “If you wake me again before dawn, I’ll kill you.” She purred back at me.
“Did my daughter say anything to either of you about him coming into town?” Leo was struggling to keep his temper under control but his voice sounded peremptory.
More head shaking. I could see how hurt they were at this being a secret. But a secret it must have been. Given the message on the DVD and Dee and Zach’s previous relationship, it seemed most unlikely that she would have taken another lover. I could only suppose she hadn’t lost the desire to get back at her parents as Zach had said.
The K Handshape Page 10
