Det Annie Macpherson 01 - Primed By The Past

by Speake, Barbara Fagan

  ‘I guess so, but I’m still not getting your drift.’

  Before they could finish the conversation, they heard Bronski walk in. Annie put her coffee down for a minute, as she poured another for her supervisor. Walking over to his desk, she put it down.

  Ellison followed her out of the kitchen and sat back down at his desk to continue the computer search he had been doing before she arrived.

  ‘Thanks Detective, I’m going to miss you when you go back to England. Could you teach Ellison to do that before you go?’ quipped Bronski. But his focus on Annie was only momentary while he shifted stuff on his desk and checked the pink message slips. He never sat down until that task was completed.

  Ellison leaned back in his chair. ‘When you two have a minute, I’ve got a message for you both. Not sure it’s what you want to hear, so don’t ‘shoot the messenger,’ as they say.’

  Annie glanced over at Ellison, trying to read the expression on his face and wondering why he hadn’t said anything to her first, but she assumed he’d been waiting for Bronski to get in. He couldn’t really show her any favouritism. He’d be working with Bronski long after her exchange ended.

  Ellison’s expression was neutral. What else can go wrong, thought Annie.

  ‘Two minutes and we’re all yours,’ replied Bronski as he sorted his papers into two piles and pondered over one of the messages, while checking his watch.

  Annie couldn’t help wondering if she were the only impatient person in the place.

  Finally, Bronski sat down facing his two colleagues. ‘Right, what you got for us?’

  ‘A message I took earlier this morning from George Goodman’s lawyer.’

  Annie visibly winced. ‘What now, wrongful arrest?’

  ‘No, he wants information from your interview with Genevieve Montgomery. Goodman is suing her for slander: says she wants to ruin him.’

  Annie smiled. ‘Now why doesn’t that surprise me?’

  ‘Well, he’ll have to wait his turn. We’ve got a few more pressing things on our plate today. Is he putting it in writing, this lawyer?’

  ‘Said he would.’

  ‘Thanks, we’ll wait and see. I’m glad you spoke to him: you’re more diplomatic.’ Now Bronski turned to Annie. ‘We need to see Franconi this morning; update him on last night’s events. He’ll have heard from despatch and he’ll want to know what we’re doing about it.’

  Right on cue, Franconi came through the door.

  ‘Morning detectives … ten minutes … my room.’

  When he was out of earshot, Annie couldn’t help mumbling a comment. ‘Well at least he said good morning.’

  ‘Must be your optimism, Detective,’ Ellison retorted, ‘I only heard him say ‘morning’, not ‘good’ morning.’

  Even Bronski had to smile at that.

  The intervening ten minutes gave Annie the chance to update the file on Angela Goodman, as Jim Moorcroft had been a part of that investigation. She also checked her notes from last night. A new file would need to be started on Moorcroft. The two events appeared to be related, but nevertheless a new investigation would be needed into his death.

  ‘So Scotty, you’re having an eventful exchange. Is this your first suicide?’

  ‘No sir, and to be fair, we’re not sure yet if Mr Moorcroft’s death is a suicide.’

  Franconi picked up his pen and started to tap on his blotter. Annie was relieved that it wasn’t the paper clip and the nail cleaning routine. ‘And what do you think, Detective?’ he asked, as his focus shifted to Bronski.

  ‘Detective Macpherson is technically correct. It looks like a suicide. There is a note but it is typed and printed out from his computer. Anyone could have done that or could have forced him to do it. But unlike my partner, I’m tending to think he did commit suicide.’

  Annie tried not to look at Bronski, knowing her face would betray how she felt. He could at least have backed me up at this early stage and not made me look a fool in front of Franconi, she thought. Also, she recalled he hadn’t seemed so convinced last night. He was the one who said that it might have been staged to look like a suicide. But she tried to hold it together. She was here to learn, after all. Thankfully, Franconi needed a bit more to go on.

  ‘Any sign of a struggle at the crime scene, any defence wounds on him?’ Franconi’s pen tapping was now getting rhythmical.

  This question gave Annie the opening she needed. ‘Not that we saw last night. The autopsy will give us more. I think, at this stage, we should be keeping an open mind.’ Bronski might not like that comment, but it needed to be said.

  ‘What did Jackie Winters have to say about it?’

  Annie got out her notebook. ‘The last time she saw him was the previous night. That’s when she had an argument with him, went to see Captain Hegarty and stayed in the motel where he was staying. The next morning Captain Hegarty accompanied her back to the house but Moorcroft wasn’t there.’ Annie hesitated in case Franconi wanted to ask anything but he was too busy tapping his pen, so she continued. ‘Then later in the day she sent a text to Hegarty and asked him if he would accompany her to the house. Hegarty showed me the text message and I’ve noted it verbatim and the time.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘She later met him at the hospital and told him more about her concerns about Moorcroft’s mood the previous night. What was strange was that Moorcroft hadn’t been at work yesterday.’

  Franconi stood up and walked over to his coffee machine. He nodded to the two detectives but both declined a cup. He sat down again, this time focusing his attention on Annie.

  ‘And does Hegarty back up the story?’

  ‘He does, sir.’

  ‘What’s with the two of them?’ Franconi was gazing at her intently. Annie was trying desperately to come over professionally, although she was taken aback. ‘You mean Hegarty and Jackie Winters?’

  ‘Of course, I mean them.’

  Bronski shifted in his seat and Annie, sensing that he was about to take over, finished what she had to say. ‘I understand that he knew Jackie Winters very little before the recent events with his sister. He had known Moorcroft much longer, as Moorcroft and his sister worked together and were friends for years. Jackie Winters only came into the picture a year or two ago, and Hegarty only really knew of her from his sister’s correspondence and telephone calls. He’s been in Afghanistan for the past six months.’

  Annie expected Franconi to make a comment. Instead, he changed the subject and addressed his next question to Bronski.

  ‘What about the suicide note?’

  Bronski passed the typed note to Franconi and waited in silence while he read it.

  Passing the sealed evidence back to Bronski, Franconi carried on with his questioning. ‘So, what does Jackie Winters make of the note? Does she believe what it says, this undying love for Angela Goodman, while he’s living with her? Is she the jealous type?’

  Here they were back to that woman again and her views. Annie couldn’t really see the relevance. It was clear in her mind that they were seeking a male perpetrator and she was still convinced that they were missing something from Angela’s past that was relevant. Somehow, Jim Moorcroft didn’t fit into the puzzle for her, but he was obviously beginning to for Bronski and perhaps Franconi.

  The next few minutes were spent tossing ideas around. Jackie Winters still had to be interviewed. That was part of the procedure and might be illuminating in some way. She’d been in no fit state to make a statement the previous evening but was due at the station later on in the morning. Annie and Bronski had already decided that they would interview her together.

  ‘OK, I think we’re through for now. Keep me informed. In the meantime, take the guard off the hospital room. It’s costing too much and if Moorcroft did do it, then we’re wasting money.
’ Franconi winked at Annie. ‘After all, we need to keep track of our budgets or we may have to suspend the exchange.’

  The wink made Annie uneasy, the budget comment felt like a veiled threat. Perhaps Franconi did feel that this all started with a misjudgement on her part, and look at where they were now – a woman still fighting for her life, and the man who found her was dead in suspicious circumstances. Consequently, as they walked out, Annie felt unnerved. Her intuition told her that the real perpetrator was as elusive as ever. What worried her more was her sense that Bronski and Franconi were settling on the suicide note being genuine. Her counterarguments were not being taken seriously. She could only hope that the autopsy would provide some evidence to the contrary. And she still needed to know more about Angela Goodman.

  Dave Ellison tore up a pink message slip as Annie and Bronski got back to their desks. ‘Good, you’ve just saved me writing out a message. Jackie Winters is waiting downstairs for you.’

  60

  Jackie Winters’ appearance shocked Annie. For the first time, the pristine make-up wasn’t in evidence and her hair looked as if it hadn’t been washed. There were dark circles under her eyes and her lids were puffy. Bronski greeted her first. ‘Thanks for coming down to the station. We’re sorry for your loss. Although this is a difficult time, there are questions we need to ask you.’

  Jackie Winters simply nodded to Bronski but made no eye contact with Annie. Once they were in the interview room, Bronski explained the procedure and then began his questions. ‘Ms Winters, when was the last time you saw Mr Moorcroft alive?’

  Jackie didn’t hesitate, as if she’d already rehearsed her answer. ‘Tuesday night. I went shopping at the mall and when I got back he just flew into a rage, asking me where I’d been, what I’d been doing. He was so angry I felt scared and …’

  ‘Go on, please.’

  ‘I just grabbed my handbag and left the house.’

  ‘He just let you go, didn’t try to stop you?’ Annie came in with her own question.

  Jackie answered, but faced Bronski. ‘I think he would have but I got away too quickly and jumped in the car. I pulled over a few minutes later to see if he was following me. Thankfully, he wasn’t.’

  ‘And what did you do next?’

  ‘I drove to the motel where Charlie … Captain Hegarty … was staying. I went up to the reception desk and they telephoned his room for me. He had been asleep but he came down and met me in the bar.’

  Annie knew that Charlie had not long since left her apartment and wondered whether he’d told Jackie that. If he had done, maybe that was the reason Jackie was avoiding eye contact with her. Bronski pursued what happened next, but Annie didn’t really want to hear the next few answers or if there was anything going on between Charlie and Jackie. To her relief, the answers established only that they’d talked and then he’d arranged a room for her in the motel. They’d met again at breakfast. After that, he’d followed her back to the house in his car. As Moorcroft’s car wasn’t there, they had both assumed he was at work.

  The questions then turned to Jim Moorcroft and his temper. Jackie admitted to them that sometimes she’d been frightened of him and that he had been abusive, but not severe enough for her to report it. The only time she’d been truly frightened was the last night she saw him.

  Bronski opened the file and pulled out the suicide note. Jackie hadn’t been shown it the night before. Bronski slid it across the table to her.

  ‘We found this note in the main bedroom.’

  Jackie hesitated, not knowing whether she should touch the plastic envelope or not, but then straightened it out in front of her and read it very slowly.

  Her hand went to her mouth. ‘Oh my God, no ... no, why?’ And then she covered her face with her hands.

  Bronski looked over at Annie, who took the cue. ‘We know this is difficult but we have to ask you, do you believe that Jim Moorcroft wrote that note?’

  Wiping away tears, she murmured. ‘I don’t want to believe it, all the lies, the deception. He never loved me, did he? He never spoke about Angie except as a friend. I had no idea he felt like that about her.’ She picked up the note and read it again.

  Annie poured Jackie Winters a glass of water and the two detectives waited while she composed herself. Once she appeared more settled, Bronski came in again. ‘I am sure that part of the note is difficult for you, but do you believe what it says, that he really did commit suicide. Had he ever talked about suicide in the past?’

  Jackie hesitated and when she finally spoke, her voice was barely above a whisper. ‘Yes, right after we found Angela. He was really shook up at her house and while we were waiting for the ambulance to arrive, he started talking about death, how she deserved to live and other people didn’t. At first I just thought he was in shock, you know, finding Angie like she was.’ Jackie picked up the glass and drank from it. As she put it down, Annie gently prompted her to continue. ‘Then he started to get morose, saying he didn’t deserve to live. I just got angry at the time, told him to stop talking nonsense, that Angie needed him, that I needed him.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘I think the ambulance must have arrived because I don’t remember him saying anything else about it and we never discussed it again. I never thought …’ It took a few minutes for Jackie Winters to compose herself again in order to continue. The two detectives remained silent as well.

  Annie was thinking how painful the realisation must be when someone commits suicide and you think you could have done something to help. But there was still that nagging feeling of whether this was suicide or not. Annie glanced briefly at Bronski. He’s becoming more and more convinced of suicide, she thought.

  Bronski asked a few more questions, mostly about the computer. Jackie confirmed that it was Moorcroft’s and that she didn’t use it. She said she had enough with computers at work. Finally they neared the end of their questions and Bronski asked her about Moorcroft’s next of kin. She mentioned that he had a sister, Debbie, but that they weren’t that close. She would need to find the address back at the house.

  That final question prompted Jackie to ask whether she could return to the house, as she needed some clothes and things. ‘Obviously I couldn’t really pack anything last night, and I’m going to run out of clothes.’

  ‘Our forensic team is still there at the house, so we can’t allow you in without police escort. Detective Macpherson will accompany you.’

  This part hadn’t been decided in advance and the last thing Annie wanted to do was to accompany Jackie Winters to her house. But maybe it would give her a chance to assess Jackie’s mood once they were alone together. Just before they set off from the station, Annie sent a text message to Charlie, to confirm meeting up after work. The reply came back as she grabbed her jacket: ‘Pick you up at 5:30 outside station. Text if changes. Charlie.’

  Annie observed Jackie Winters as they approached the front door of the house. Nervously, Jackie went in as the cop opened the door to them. There were still some technicians in the house. Jackie’s eyes darted about as she tracked each person in what had been her home and what was now a crime scene. The senior technician introduced himself and expressed his sympathy for her loss. Annie was impressed, but like Jackie, wanted to get in and out as quickly as possible and let the technicians finish. In all, they were in there about twenty minutes.

  61

  Gus had been waiting for the phone call, ever since Detective Malin had left a message on the answer machine while he was in the shower. It was the first day for a week that he was going to be on his own. All the parents had gone home, awaiting news from him of the date of the funeral. It had been two days since he had last spoken to the detective and now he waited anxiously for the call. The glass of orange juice had burned as he swallowed it and he knew that the heartburn was from lack of proper food. Ca
rol would be shouting at him if she were here.

  If only …

  Just as he forced himself to take a bite of toast, the phone rang again. He recognised the detective’s voice immediately.

  ‘Sorry to phone you so early, Mr Wojinski, but I thought you would want to hear this from me, before we have to brief the local news reporters.’

  Gus braced himself, leaning hard against the kitchen counter. He made himself reply. ‘What?’

  ‘I’m afraid that we are now officially treating your wife’s death as a homicide, not an accident. As I told you the other night, there is no sign at all of a second body and now we have traced the other car. It was rented ten days ago in Springfield. We have the name of the customer – Jason Craven. Does that name mean anything to you?’

  ‘I don’t know anyone of that name and I can’t recall Carol ever mentioning that name, but I can’t be sure. He could have been a customer, an online buyer, a book dealer, perhaps. Do you know anything about him?’

  The line went quiet for a few seconds. ‘That’s the thing, we’ve checked out the photocopy of the driving licence from the rental company. Jason Craven died three years ago in a plane crash, so we believe we are dealing with a case of identity fraud. The address doesn’t check out either. It’s a real street, just the house number doesn’t exist, but as the guy paid in cash, they didn’t bother with the usual checks. Some young kid was on duty at the time, just a summer job for him.’ The detective finally paused.

  ‘Were there any security cameras?’

  ‘Yes, and we’re checking out the tapes as we speak. The young kid who served him couldn’t recall much about the customer, so we’re just trying to identify people who were in line around the time on the docket. We’re covering about an hour or so to be sure, and we should finish later this morning. If we get any stills off the camera, I’ll bring them around. You can see if you recognise anybody in them.’