Det Annie Macpherson 01 - Primed By The Past

by Speake, Barbara Fagan

  ‘How’s it going?’ Bronski knew the cop and introduced Annie.

  ‘Not too well. The brother is still in there; has been most of the night. Only popped out this morning to get a change of clothes and came right back. He looks awful, poor guy.’

  As they entered the room, Annie felt a bit sick, as a memory came flooding back. It was the last days of her dad’s terminal illness and the shock at seeing him wasting away. Her hero, her mentor, and the man who was the reason she became a cop, lying in the hospital bed had become reduced to skin and bone. She still shuddered thinking about it. Now here was a woman, lying there motionless, just as he had.

  The morning sun was shining into the room, even though the curtains were still drawn. Charlie was in a chair facing his sister’s bed. He was asleep. Bronski motioned to Annie to touch him on the shoulder. As soon as Annie did so, he reacted instantly, like the trained soldier he was. His quick response made Annie jump.

  ‘I’m sorry I didn’t mean to startle you,’ she said.

  Charlie quickly regained his composure. ‘Sorry, I drifted off; haven’t had much sleep lately.’

  Then he noticed Bronski on the other side of the bed. Bronski’s gaze was intent on Angela Goodman, his voice barely a whisper. ‘How’s she doing?’

  Charlie got up from the chair, stretching and rubbing his neck. Annie noticed for herself how exhausted he looked. Touching his sister’s hand, he replied to Bronski, again speaking in a very low voice. ‘It doesn’t appear there’s been much change. I was hoping this latest surgery …’

  ‘But it’s still early, isn’t it?’ Annie touched his arm again, and this time he didn’t flinch.

  ‘At least she survived the surgery. I’m told that is the trickiest part. Should we go outside to talk? I could do with a coffee. What time is it anyway?’

  The three of them decided to go to the diner across the road, avoiding the crowded hospital canteen. They ordered as soon as they sat down, and when the coffee was poured, Annie broke the awkwardness.

  ‘You left a message for one of us to telephone you. We thought we would come by and see how Angela was, knowing you were here.’

  Charlie took a long drink of coffee before responding. ‘I expect you thought you might see a change in her. God knows, every time I come in I pray for that, but she’s still the same. I worry that I have put her through needless surgery and that I’m going to be faced with having to make a decision about switching off the life support.’ For a moment, he put his face in his hands.

  Annie and Bronski waited for him to recover.

  ‘The surgeon said it could still be 48 hours before we know if there will be any change, so I keep trying to remind myself of that. Anyway, why I telephoned you. There were two things: I wanted to know where you were up to with releasing the house and then …’

  As Charlie hesitated, Annie came in on his first thought. ‘We’ve been in touch with the forensics team and they can release the house this week. I also have some details for you of those specialist cleaning companies I think I mentioned to you already.’ Annie reached into her handbag to retrieve a slip of paper with several names and telephone numbers. ‘I can make the arrangements if that would help.’

  ‘Thanks, but I’ll take care of it. More than anything right now, I just want to fix the place up for her. She can’t see it like that.’

  ‘Will you have the time? What about your service commitments? When do you have to get back to your base?’ Annie realised that time was passing and Charlie was a serving soldier.

  ‘I’ve been granted a six month leave of absence. It starts next week when my leave would have finished. I need to be here for Angela. I’m all she has.’

  41

  It had been nearly two days since he’d staged the accident and all he could find on the Internet was an item from the local newspaper. It seemed as if there was nothing suspicious being reported.

  He smiled to himself. When are you going to realise that there are two cars, but only one body? But hey, he was many miles away, in a different State, with nothing to connect him to Carol Wojinski.

  There was no need to discuss what he’d been up to either. This wasn’t part of the plan they’d shared. He took one of those long very hot showers, the ones that cleansed him, made him feel whole again. Then after his usual nightcap, he crawled into bed.

  Two hours later he woke suddenly, with a choking sensation. Rushing into the bathroom he barely had time to switch the light on before he vomited into the toilet. As he sat on the bathroom floor, with an arm still propped up on the toilet seat, the dream came flooding back. It was a variation on the recurring one he’d had for months now. Sometimes there were only disjointed snippets of the dream, but tonight there was more of a sequence.

  In the dream, he was in a prison cell but he didn’t recognise anything about it. The walls were a strange colour and it was eerily quiet. Then the silence was broken by the sound of someone unlocking the door. He’d heard their footsteps but somehow couldn’t get his eyes to open so that he could see who it was. He’d felt the hands around his neck and no matter how hard he tried he couldn’t release the grip, nor could he get his eyes to open.

  As that part of the dream came flooding back, he found himself being sick again. His ribs ached from the force of the heaving. A part of him wanted to remember the rest of the dream while another part of him wanted to curl up, right there on the bathroom floor. Despite that urge, he forced himself to remember, the sour taste of the vomit still in his mouth.

  The next sound in the dream was that of water dripping and finally his eyes opened. A woman was there, her face covered, but she was trying to help him, frantically pulling on the man’s arm until he released his grip. But when he reached for her, water came flooding out of her mouth and all he could feel was dampness, the dampness of his own sweat.

  As he got up from the floor, he reached for the glass and swilled his mouth out. With his heart still drumming and the sweat pouring off him, he went back to the bedroom. He looked at the clock – 2 am. No chance of sleeping now. He walked into the study, turned on the desk lamp and switched on the laptop.

  42

  ‘So what did you make of the other thing he had on his mind?’ Bronski was seeking Annie’s view about Hegarty’s questioning of them with regard to Jim Moorcroft.

  Annie thought about the encounter. Charlie’s anger had been palpable. Was there something going on between him and Jackie Winters? It certainly seemed as if Jackie was using his shoulder to cry on. There was something about the woman Annie didn’t trust. She replied with her own question. ‘Are all American men so protective of women or is that characteristic of a military man?’

  ‘Come on, stop the stereotyping. Besides, I thought chivalry started in your country: something about knights, wasn’t it?’ Bronski laughed, as he pulled out of the hospital parking lot.

  Annie smiled. ‘OK, my view is that Charlie is genuinely worried about Jim Moorcroft. I think he’s feeling that Jackie Winters could be in danger from him and wonders why we’re not doing anything about it.’

  ‘Hmm … you don’t think he’ll do anything himself, do you?’

  ‘Well, I wouldn’t want to have another assault victim on our hands. I think we need to talk to Jackie Winters and Jim Moorcroft again. They’re both holding back; I’m just not sure what.’

  Bronski glanced over at Annie. ‘So, let’s see if they’re both at work.’

  By the time the two detectives reached the office building and confirmed that Jim Moorcroft and Jackie Winters were in, they’d decided to interview Jackie Winters first. They’d been shown to an empty office and one of the personnel staff had gone to get Jackie. Bronski had made it clear that she should be brought straight to them and that Jim Moorcroft was not to be contacted until they said so. Annie thought that word would still get aro
und, despite their precautions.

  The knock on the door was expected. The personnel woman popped her head around the door. ‘Jackie Winters for you. Is there anything else you require, coffee perhaps?’

  ‘No thank you,’ Annie replied, as she closed the door.

  Jackie took a seat opposite them without a word but her face could barely contain her feelings. ‘I thought we covered everything you wanted yesterday. Why do you keep showing up here? I haven’t done anything wrong and it’s embarrassing. I have to work in this building and things are starting to be said.’ Her arms were folded tightly across her chest and she was noticeably bristling.

  ‘We appreciate that this isn’t easy for you, but we are investigating a very serious assault, and we think you have been less than honest with us.’ Annie was taking the lead and wasn’t in the mood to play games. The sight of Angela Goodman had sickened her.

  ‘I have no idea what you mean. I have told you everything I know. I am trying to carry on working while spending as much time as I can visiting my best friend and supporting her brother. Pardon me if that isn’t good enough for you.’

  ‘We need to know more about your relationship with Mr Moorcroft.’

  ‘Oh please, this is too much. What do our personal lives have to do with anything? He’s my partner. We’ve been together for nearly two years and that’s it; nothing more to tell you.’

  Jackie shifted in her seat and Annie thought for a moment that she might get up and leave. After all, she was speaking to them voluntarily, so Annie had to be careful. ‘I will come straight to the point. Angela Goodman was brutally assaulted. Whoever did this, left her for dead. If you and Jim hadn’t gone to her house when you did, she probably wouldn’t have survived.’ Annie paused for a minute, wanting to be sure she had Jackie’s full attention. ‘You two were the last ones to see her the evening before, apart from the perpetrator and were also the ones who discovered her. Your partner’s fingerprints were on a glass in the kitchen, so he went into the house that night. The question for me is whether there was something going on between them and whether Jim Moorcroft had a motive for assaulting Angela Goodman.’

  Annie leaned back in her chair and noticed the intensity with which Bronski was staring at Jackie Winters. But Jackie’s body language hadn’t changed and she was clearly still angry at the intrusiveness of their questions.

  ‘No, no, no. They’re friends, that’s all. It was Jim who introduced me to Angie. When her husband left, we were very much a threesome. He’s been very supportive of her over the break up of her marriage; we both have. We’re friends, that’s all. He loves me and that’s the whole story; nothing sordid as you seem to want to imply. Now if there isn’t anything else.’ Jackie started to get up from her chair.

  This time Bronski came in before Annie could. ‘Are we to take it that he has never been violent to you?’

  Jackie turned back, her hand already on the door. ‘Not that it’s any business of yours, but no, he has never been violent to me.’ With that she walked out of the room, without looking back.

  The two detectives took the personnel woman up on her offer and sat with their coffees, leaving Jim Moorcroft more time to wait.

  ‘So, do you want to lead on this one?’ Annie asked as she finished her drink.

  ‘Sure. You about ready?’ When Annie nodded, Bronski made the internal phone call.

  This time the woman from personnel just opened the door and shut it again without a word. Jim Moorcroft started talking even before he took a seat. ‘What is with you? Why can’t you leave me alone? I have done nothing, apart from saving Angela’s life. What if we didn’t go over that morning, then what? We wouldn’t be suspects, that’s what.’

  It was obvious he had seen Jackie before he came in for the interview. He was gesturing now and barely sitting down. Bronski leaned forward.

  ‘We appreciate you talking to us again. There are one or two things we just want to go over again.’ Bronski directed the questions at his first marriage, but Moorcroft remained circumspect, only reporting what would be in official records anyway. But then Bronski caught him off guard by asking what he knew about Angela’s first marriage.

  ‘Surely, you’re not thinking Dennis had anything to do with this. You are way off base on that one.’

  ‘How so?’

  Perhaps relieved that the questioning wasn’t about his previous marriage any more, Jim Moorcroft visibly relaxed. ‘Dennis worshipped her, thought she was his soul mate, but she was too wrapped up at the time with her mother’s illness and trying to ensure her brother was taken care of. She didn’t have much left over for him even though he didn’t demand much. He desperately wanted to start a family but she wouldn’t even consider it. She rejected him before he ever got close to rejecting her.’

  ‘Were the two of you friends?’

  ‘I wouldn’t describe us as friends exactly. Sure, the occasional beer, card games now and then. He didn’t know a lot of people, only knew me through Angie. He was from Rhode Island originally and went back quite a bit to see his parents. She was a bitch to him, to be honest, but I never said anything to her about it.’ Jim started to shift in his seat now and glanced at his watch. ‘It’s getting close to the lunch break, are we finished?’

  ‘Just a couple more questions.’

  By the time Jim Moorcroft left the room, the two detectives were feeling less sure of his guilt. The interview confirmed that they needed to locate Dennis Cullen and get more on that marriage. It certainly seemed that Angela Goodman had problems in her relationships.

  43

  When Annie and Bronski got back to the station after lunch, Dave Ellison was waiting to see them.

  ‘Two messages: Glen Heaviley is sending the keys over this afternoon. He assumed you would let the brother know.’

  ‘That’s great, even sooner than I thought. And the second?’

  ‘I’ve managed to track down the first husband, Dennis Cullen. He lives in Rhode Island now. I thought I’d save you some time by making a few phone calls. I spoke to his personal assistant. He’s in New York on business for the next week. I have the telephone number of his motel, but he may not even go back there tonight, as he is expecting to be in negotiations all night over some deal. Anyway, she insisted that he can’t be disturbed but she will give him a message that you want to speak to him. She has the numbers here and also both your cellphones.’

  By now, Annie was sitting at her desk making notes and Bronski was listening, while sorting through other messages on his desk. It was Annie who acknowledged the information first. ‘Thanks, Dave, that’s very helpful. I guess we’ll have to wait for Dennis Cullen to ring us, but I might just leave a message at the motel, make sure he knows we really want to speak to him.’

  Annie looked over at Dave and he winked at her after assuring himself that Bronski wasn’t looking their way. Then he got up and put the message with the telephone numbers for Dennis Cullen on her desk, brushing her hand in the process.

  As he sat back down, Annie glanced over at Bronski who still had his head down skimming other messages. Turning to Ellison again, she said ‘Any more background on Jackie Winters?’

  ‘You took the next part right out of my mouth. Still nothing beyond five years, which is a bit strange. Do you know if Winters is a married name?’

  ‘She’s never mentioned being married, nor has Jim Moorcroft, but then again we never specifically asked. I’ll make a note to follow that up.’

  As Annie was finishing her sentence, Bronski’s phone rang.

  ‘Well I’ll be damned. Thanks Sarge. Detective Macpherson and I will be down in a minute. Can you put her in an interview room? Give her a cup of coffee.’

  ‘Don’t tell me, Jackie Winters is downstairs.’

  ‘No, Detective, guess again.’ Bronski smiled. ‘You aren’t go
ing to believe this. It’s our old friend, Genevieve Montgomery, downstairs. Says she’s here to report an assault; came straight from the ER.’

  Bronski laughed at the look on Annie’s face. ‘You weren’t expecting that one were you?’

  Anne pushed her chair back and stood up, putting her jacket back on. ‘No, she wasn’t the female I was expecting. So has Mr Goodman been up to no good, I wonder?’

  ‘Let’s find out, shall we?’

  When the two detectives came through the door of the interview room, it was clear from the look on her face that Genevieve Montgomery wasn’t happy to see Annie with Bronski.

  ‘This doesn’t need two of you. I asked to speak to Detective Bronski.’

  ‘How about we decide that,’ Bronski replied, as he and Annie sat down opposite Genevieve Montgomery, who picked up her drink and finished it. She was clearly ill at ease and Annie was taken aback by the look of her face. It was very swollen and her right eye was half closed. Her lower lip was split and it looked as if it would be painful to speak. But she still had that superior air about her that had been so noticeable the first time they’d met her.

  ‘So Ms Montgomery, would you like to tell us what happened?’ enquired Bronski.

  At first she hesitated as if she were about to change her mind and then blurted out, ‘George did this; had a few too many last night when I was with him and carried on drinking today. Came into the boutique and demanded that I come into his car with him. It was clear that he was too drunk to drive, so I took the keys from him and drove him back to his apartment.’