The K Handshape

by Maureen Jennings

  “Hm. Pale blue sounds good.”

  I sensed she wanted to have a girly talk about the wedding preparations but I just couldn’t do it.

  “Duncan says you should travel with Thomas Cook. They have more leg room.”

  “Right. Well, I’ll have to get back to you about this. I can’t promise.”

  Her voice became huffy. “Don’t leave it too long. We’re having the reception at the Duke and I have to make out the guest list. The places are limited.”

  That was a nice, under-the-counter stab but I deserved it.

  “Let me get my head around it. I haven’t had much sleep.”

  Another silence. “You haven’t even given me your good wishes, Chris. My own daughter and you didn’t say, ‘congratulations.’”

  She slammed the phone down.

  I leaned back against the headboard. Chalk that one up as a failure. We’d both been trying to relate to each other differently, but the old tracks ran deep and mutual disappointment often reasserted itself

  I snapped off the bedside light and snuggled back under the covers. Too late. I was awake. Or half awake anyway. I rolled over to head for the bathroom, Tory and Bertie both doing their best to trip me up so I could go crashing to the floor, die, and not be able to feed them. I came back to the bed, picked up the phone, and called Joan. A very British voice prompt said, “This is the answer phone service. The party you are calling is not available at the moment. Please leave a message.”

  “Joan. I’ll come. Sorry I was so grumpy. You’re right, I’m not good in the morning. Congratulations to both of you. I’ll call again as soon as I can.”

  I padded into the kitchen, plugged in the kettle to make coffee, and opened a fresh can of cat food for the monsters, which they both dived into, Bertie making his usual little gobbling noise.

  “I’m just a walking can opener to you two, aren’t I?”

  They agreed but didn’t bother to look up.

  I’d just made my coffee when the phone rang again. I hurried over to answer it but it wasn’t Joan. It was Gary, my downstairs tenant.

  “I didn’t wake you, did I, Chris? I could hear you moving about and I heard the coffee grinder so I knew you were up to stay.” So much for my private life. I’d have to be more careful about making strange noises that I didn’t want overheard.

  I’d inherited Gary and his partner, Ahmed, when I bought the house and we’d become good pals over the last year. Gary in particular loved gardening and he kept the backyard lush with shrubs and flowers, something I could never do. Ahmed on occasion made us all delicious Egyptian dishes.

  It was not quite a quarter to six.

  “Is something the matter?” I asked. Gary sounded stressed.

  “Yes, I’m afraid so. Terribly the matter. I haven’t slept a wink all night. Would you mind if I come up and talk to you? I just don’t know where to turn.”

  What could I say? I owed him lots.

  “Of course, come up. I’ll make coffee. Is it just you or Ahmed as well?”

  “Just me.” His voice was tight. “Ahmed and I are separating.”

  “Oh dear. That sounds like a call for double sugar.”

  My feeble joke fell flat. Gary was notorious for having a sweet tooth and all his friends teased him about it.

  “I’ll be right there,” he said and he hung up.

  Two minutes later he was at the door. He was fully dressed but unshaven, something very unusual for Gary, who was fastidious about his grooming. I gave him a hug and he clung to me for a few minutes then stepped back so he could wipe his eyes.

  He dabbed at the lapels of my dressing gown with his handkerchief. “Sorry, I’ve got snot all over you.”

  “It’ll wash out. Do you want some coffee?”

  “Yes, please, double-double.”

  While I was fixing his order, he was hovering in the kitchen. “I do like your apartment, Chris. It’s very cosy.”

  “Thanks. Have a seat. Do you want some toast?”

  “Sure.”

  I handed him the mug of coffee and he held it in both his hands.

  “So what’s this about you two separating?”

  I knew they had rows like any other couple because I’d heard them, but they weren’t frequent. Ahmed was several years younger than Gary, shy where he was flamboyant, a devout Muslim to Gary’s vocal atheism. However, they’d been together for a few years and, in spite of the obvious differences, seemed very committed to each other.

  Gary looked up at me with red-rimmed eyes. “As you know, his father died in June and he went to Egypt for the funeral. He hasn’t been the same since. His family said he had brought about the old man’s death because … because he hadn’t provided him with an heir. Apparently, while he was there, his mother was relentless, dragging women over to the house for him to choose a bride… He’s never told them about us. They would have disinherited him totally.”

  “But you’ve lived together for years.”

  He managed a sip of the coffee. “They think we’re just good friends. They know I’m a schoolteacher and they approve of that. They also know I have a grown son.” He managed a small smile. “I suppose they can’t conceive of a man, er, changing his mind as it were.”

  “Ahmed is giving into the pressure, I gather?”

  “He is. Oh Chris, he wasn’t home all night. He told me yesterday that he’s met somebody else, a woman, and he plans to marry her and have children. Then his mother will be happy.”

  He put his head down on the table and burst into tears. I came over to him and put my hand on his shoulder. There wasn’t much I could say.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Gary thought he’d be better off going to work, so after about an hour of non-stop talking and weeping, he went downstairs to clean up. I’d been hoping to have a look at the report Gill had sent me but I just had time to get take a shower and have some breakfast. Katherine had scheduled a meeting for eight-thirty. Leo, a glass of water in front of him, was sitting next to David, who was in the process of shaking out some drops from a brown vial into the glass.

  Leo didn’t seem to be paying attention, the way a fox before it is about to strike the rabbit will be motionless. Quickly, I slid into the chair next to him.

  “How’s it going, Leo?”

  He looked at me, his eyes hot with anger. “Get him away from me, Christine, before I kill him.”

  He spoke quietly but David couldn’t help but hear what he said. He stopped what he was doing.

  “It’s just rescue remedy. It has a calming effect.”

  I moved the glass to one side, away from Leo. “Thanks, David. Not now.”

  “I’m only trying to be helpful,” he replied in a particularly whiny voice.

  Leo turned to him. “What would really help me at the moment is if you got as far away from me as you could. I am not interested in your potions. I do not need your help. In fact, if truth be told, I feel ill if I am within five feet of you.”

  He wasn’t shouting but the force of his rage could have taken the paint off the walls. David blushed deeply.

  “Sorry, I’m sure.”

  He gathered his file folder on the table in front of him and stood up. Body stiff with embarrassment, he shuffled to the other side of the table and sat down, making sure he wasn’t in Leo’s sight line. I felt sorry for him. I wouldn’t like to be at the receiving end of that kind of lacerating anger.

  Jamie and Ray were hanging out by the ubiquitous coffee urn where Janice was plying them with carbohydrates. The unpleasantness of the scene made them fall silent and I for one was heartily glad when Katherine came in and took her place. It might have just been me looking at the world through jaundiced, sleep-deprived eyes, but she seemed tired and stressed out. Her white blouse leached the colour from her face.

  “Sorry I’m late. Let’s get started, shall we? I only have an hour.” She saw Leo and nodded at him. “Welcome, Leo.” No fuss. She knew he was a grown-up and trusted him to tell her if he coul
dn’t take it.

  “Just to let you all know, I had a message from Paula this morning. She is in the hospital, nothing too serious, but they discovered an irregular heartbeat and she has to be under observation for a few days. She thinks they’ll keep her there until the weekend at least.”

  “How did they discover it? What sort of symptoms was she having?” asked David.

  “I’ve no idea. That’s all she said. Chris, do you know anything more?”

  “Not really. It’s called atrial fibrillation and definitely has to be monitored but we’ll know more when they’ve done the CT scan, which should be today.”

  “I’ll send her some flowers from the team,” said Janice.

  Ah Momma Janice, we’re going to miss you.

  “Sounds good. Righto, folks, let’s get going.” Katherine tapped her pen on the table to get attention. “I’ve also heard from Ed Chaffey. He says the casino has agreed that we can have a look at the surveillance tapes this morning. He’ll meet us there himself at ten-thirty.” She glanced over at Leo. “It would make the most sense if you looked at them, Leo. You might recognize somebody. I thought Chris could go with you, if that’s all right?”

  He actually managed a smile. “I think we’re joined at the hip now and if she’s willing to be my minder, it’s all right with me.”

  I never thought I’d be spending so much time with Leo Forgach, but so be it. Our shared experience of finding his daughter’s body had created a bond between us that certainly hadn’t been there before.

  “So everybody has had a chance to look at the DVD and listen to the audio translation? Good. Janice has made copies of all the letters and emails that Deidre received. Christine has some first impressions but we can all throw in our two cents’ worth.” Janice started to hand around the photocopies. “We’ll come back to those in a minute. Ray, what have you got?”

  “I got in touch with Gallaudet University yesterday. They were very co-operative and gave me an address for Zachary Taylor in a small town in B.C. I contacted the police there. Just one guy and he was able to check it out right away.” He grinned. “I think he was glad of the activity. Quiet town, I gather. He said it was the address of a rooming house. He went over himself and talked to the landlady but she’d never heard of Taylor. One of the tenants said she thought he might have been there before her and had moved to the States. Dead end so far but we’ll see if there’s a paper trail from the university. He must have paid his fees with something. That will take a while to trace, however. As for the DVD itself, I’ve given it to Fingerprints, but they weren’t that optimistic about pulling up anything clear. A lot of people have been handling it. Same with the letters.”

  Katherine said to me, “Any further thoughts, Chris? Is this a serious threat?”

  “I have no idea. Deidre’s friends were positive he was joking. He liked to play tough guy imitations. I guess the ‘kill’ sign is the deaf person’s equivalent of doing a Bogart lisp. That said, I’d bet he’s the one who impregnated Deidre for the second time, and I’m guessing she arranged a meeting to tell him just that.”

  “He mentions a post office box, so I presume she sent him a snail mail letter,” said Jamie.

  “Probably, but we’ve got to get her computer. She seems to have kept the emails that were sent to her after her public announcement but I’d like to know who she was writing to.”

  “I’ll get a subpoena to seize,” Katherine said, making a note on her pad. “Finding Zachary Taylor is top priority. I’ve passed along a description of him and possibly the camper van to Ed. He’s going to put a notice in the papers and there should be some TV coverage today, so we might get some results in soon. He’s alerted all OPP stations in the vicinity to be on the lookout and we’ve also sent a description to the border folks.”

  “What’s happening with the casino search?” I asked.

  Katherine rested her head in her hands for a moment. “That is one helluva job. There are god knows how many surveillance tapes. They’re everywhere, including the toilets — what fun that’s going to be. Thank goodness for the receipts on bets placed. At least we can get an accurate read on the time she stopped playing. Ed’s got his guys checking with the buses and taxi companies to see if she left in one of those. However, talking to the visitors may take weeks even if we can find all of them. She may have gotten a lift with somebody.”

  “Yeah,” said Jamie. “Who the hell’s going to notice one woman in that crowd? Besides, the only thing on anybody’s mind is whether they’re going to win tonight.”

  Katherine raised her eyebrows. “Are you speaking from personal experience, Jamie?”

  To my surprise and probably hers, he turned a deep red, the flush meeting his auburn hair.

  “I’ve been up there a few times.”

  Jamie was a quiet guy, conscientious and punctilious. Not the personality you’d necessarily associate with gambling, but it wasn’t illegal, very legal in fact with profits benefiting the government and local Native groups. I wondered why he seemed so embarrassed to admit he frequented the casino. Personally I had tried it once early on and hated it. I’d expected to see people having a good time, laughing and yukking it up, but the opposite was true. To my mind, the pounding music drowned out moans of despair and rage, the neon lights hid haggard faces streaked with tears. Come on. Casinos do big business by appearing to be jolly friendly giants handing out lots of money with a ho! ho! ho! whereas they’re actually raking it in and the customers are enticed to lose their shirts, and everything else on their person. A pawn shop on the premises would do a roaring business.

  Enough of my little rant.

  Katherine moved on briskly. “Jamie has a point but we’ve got to pursue it. Thank the Lord it’s Ed’s job to organize that. We’ll just sit here on our fannies and analyze the results. Much easier. There are posters with Deidre’s picture up now in the entrance to the casino. They’ve agreed to have a second uniformed officer stationed in the lobby in case somebody’s memory is jogged and wants to unload right away. The registered coach trips are being followed up on but that is a huge job.”

  “Do you think Zachary Taylor wrote the hate letters?” Ray asked looking at me.

  “I’d say no, given his preferred mode of communication seems to have been ASL and the DVD, and the tone of his monologue is completely different.”

  Katherine started to gather together her papers. “That’s probably as much as we’ve got for now. Jamie, I believe you’ve asked ViCLAS to come up with any stats on similar cases. We’ll see if they have anything for us. Thanks everybody. Janice will let you know about the next meeting.”

  Leo shoved back his chair. “Let’s get to it then. Chris, you all right to drive?”

  “Sure.”

  His restless agitation was contagious and I got moving promptly. Following him out of the door was almost a déjà-vu experience. It seemed eons ago that we’d been in this room.

  Outside it was still pelting down. What was this, forty days and forty nights? We scurried to the car. At least he had his own umbrella this time.

  I waited until we turned off Memorial Drive and onto Highway 12. He hadn’t said anything, just sat staring morosely out the rain-streaked window.

  “Leo, I think David deserves an apology. He was only trying to help.”

  He shot a look at me and I could see a protest about to jump out of his mouth. Then he swallowed.

  “I know. I was an almighty jerk… What shall I do to make amends?”

  “Well you could always send him a case of spring water.”

  He actually laughed. “Good idea.

  We drove on.

  “Loretta arrived late last night. She wanted to go directly to Deidre’s house and see Joy. She’s not had a lot to do with her, especially lately, but more than I have. I’m glad we did. It was almost midnight and Nora was plonked in front of the TV. Joy wasn’t in bed — she was on the couch asleep beside her. I thought Nora was stoned. Loretta read it right away and sai
d she’d stay in the house rather than at my place so she could keep an eye on things. Nora didn’t like that, it might curtail her smoking up, but I felt much better. Loretta knows some basic signs — are you hungry, what would you like, that sort of thing — but it’s more than I have.

  “Jessica and Hannah are going back there today and Loretta thinks they should ask Joy some questions. You know, about seeing any men come to the house. Nobody is ready to tell her that her mother is dead but she keeps asking where she is. I don’t know who’s going to do that. The friends, I suppose.”

  We were driving through the rural area that separated the city proper from the casino. The fields were grey and sodden, the trees almost stripped of their leaves already. Here and there, dispirited cows cropped at the grass.

  “I think that’s a good idea to ask her about her mom’s friends. I never thought about it. I trust they’ll do it tactfully.”

  A sign directed us to turn off the road and Casino Rama, locus of despair and greed and exploitation, loomed in front of us.

  It was just past ten but the parking lot was already jammed. At least a half a dozen coaches were pulled up in the bus section and simultaneously disgorging their passengers. I was struck by how many of them were elderly, probably on a field trip from their retirement homes. The majority were women, and one coach let off passengers who were all Asian. We hurried along with the flow of people, all chattering excitedly as they pursued the impossible dream. Sudden wealth literally pouring out of the slots, although in fact, at this casino, I had discovered, the slot machines no longer poured out money, you got vouchers instead.

  Ed Chaffey was standing beside a tall uniformed officer near one of the doors. I saw the posters on the wall, but as far as I could tell, absolutely none of the hundreds of people rushing through the doors were paying attention to it. Jamie was right about that. Ed waved and came over at once.

  “My condolences, Leo. I’m so sorry.”

  Leo barely nodded but they shook hands.

  “The manager is waiting for us. His name is Todd Torvill. We can go up the back stairs.”