‘Maybe you should take them to the bookshop as well. Perhaps Sandra or Fiona will recognise a customer or a book distributor.’ Gus was clutching at straws, but that was all he had. He felt so powerless.
‘We’ll do that. Can I get you later on this number?’
‘I’ll be here.’
Gus put the phone down. The terrible wrenching feeling in his stomach was back. He walked into their bedroom, took Carol’s dressing gown from the hook behind the door and lay on the bed clutching it to his face as he sobbed.
62
When Annie got back to the station, Bronski was on the phone to the desk sergeant, letting him know that no one was needed to relieve the officer on duty outside the hospital room. ‘Well that should cheer Franconi up, saving a few dollars. I don’t know about you but it’s about time to go home. How did the trip back to the house with Jackie Winters go?’
‘Fine. She didn’t say a lot. Just got her things together. Kept trying not to glance at the spot where he killed himself.’ What Annie left out was Jackie talking about Charlie and how good he had been to her. It was obvious that Jackie was developing feelings for him that Annie didn’t want to hear about. After all, she was meeting him herself after work. Of course, she never mentioned that to Jackie. ‘But she did say a bit more about Moorcroft. I think she was more afraid of him than she told us in the interview.’
‘Her and the first wife, eh? By the way I guess we should let her know about his death. I’ll do it now before I go home.’
As Bronski looked up the number, Annie read the messages on her desk. There was nothing that had to be dealt with immediately. Looking at her watch, she realised that she had about an hour to do some reports and update the time line in the file. The only distraction was overhearing Bronski on the phone to Linda Moorcroft. Annie glanced over at Bronski, as he put the phone down.
Turning towards her, he said: ‘She believes the same as you do.’
Annie looked at him quizzically, ‘Meaning?’
‘She said he is, sorry was, too arrogant to hang himself.’
‘But you’re still going with suicide for now?’
‘We should have the autopsy results in the morning. Let’s take it from there.’ Bronski got up and grabbed his coat, shuffling in the pocket for his keys. ‘See you in the morning Detective.’
‘Goodnight, sir.’ Annie refocused on the last few tasks, relieved that Ellison was out. She hoped he wouldn’t return in time to see her meeting Charlie, knowing it would annoy him.
Charlie was very punctual. As she got in the car, she debated whether or not to say anything about Jackie. Best not, she decided. ‘How is your sister, any improvement?’
‘It’s hard to tell, although the doctors seem to think there is. Apparently the latest scan has shown that the swelling has gone down in the brain and she could come out of the coma in a day or two. They’re going to call me if there is any change tonight.’
‘Sounds more hopeful.’
‘By the way, Officer Cunningham came in to say goodbye. Said that the detail is being taken off the door. What’s that all about?’ Charlie glanced at her and then concentrated on the traffic again.
‘Franconi authorised it. Now that Moorcroft is being treated as the prime suspect in the assault on your sister, he didn’t think it was required any more.’ Annie hesitated a couple of seconds.
‘Do I detect that you disagree?’ he said, glancing at her again, while he signalled to turn right at the lights.
Annie wasn’t sure how much to say. After all, her first loyalties were to her colleagues, and she was a guest in their squad. ‘I’m probably a bit more sceptical, should we say, than my colleagues, but the autopsy results shouldn’t be too long now. They should confirm if Jim Moorcroft hanged himself or whether his death is suspicious.’
Charlie sighed. Annie noticed how tired he looked, how all of this was taking a toll on him. More than anything, she wanted to forget it all and just enjoy an evening together.
‘But if it wasn’t him, then someone could be out there who is still a danger to my sister.’
Annie had that fear as well. Even though she’d wanted to argue with Franconi about taking the cop off the door, she hadn’t. There were times, she thought, when you had to let senior people make the decision, although it went against her gut instincts not to say anything. Maybe she should have had the courage to object. Charlie voicing his concern started to worry her, but she needed to reassure him. ‘If it were someone else they would have made a move by now, probably in those early hours before the officer was assigned.’
‘Unless they’d thought they’d accomplished what they set out to do on the night she was attacked. My sister was left for dead and it was a miracle she survived and is still hanging on to life.’
‘Annie didn’t want to discuss the case any more. There were too many unanswered questions in her own mind and the last thing she needed was for Charlie to start to doubt the investigation. ‘I’ll telephone the hospital when we get to the house and tell them to be vigilant for strangers.’
Twenty minutes later, they pulled into Angie’s drive and Charlie let them into the house.
‘Gosh, that decontamination company is good at their job, aren’t they?’ Annie was amazed at how different it looked compared to the last time she’d seen it.
Charlie shut the door. ‘They were fantastic. Although it’s not usually part of what they do, they also put a base coat of paint on all the walls. So all I have to do now is finish it off. The coverage is really good, except in the daylight when you can still see some of the streaks from the vandalism. A couple more coats should sort that out. Oh, and I ordered a carpet for her bedroom. Although they got the bloodstains out of the wooden floor, I just wanted the room to look different for her. I have to telephone the company tomorrow to confirm the colour. I’ll show you some samples later and perhaps you can help me choose.’
He led Annie into the kitchen. Again this room looked so much better. ‘The number for the hospital is in the memory, press 1 and you should get straight to the ward. When you’re done, I’ll talk to them as well.’
When Charlie hung the phone up, Annie said, ‘Only Father Loftus has been in, said he’d check on her again tomorrow when he does his rounds. Said he would miss his talks with the officers outside the door.’
‘I’ve never met him. I seem to miss him each time. Perhaps I’ll see him tomorrow. Now, some food, before we go in search of those diaries.’
An hour later, Annie helped Charlie make the decision about the bedroom carpet. Then it was time to look for the diaries in the attic. He took Annie into the spare room, which had a door opening on to a narrow staircase leading into the attic. He clicked the light switch.
‘There’s not much light in here, but from memory, the trunk is in the corner.’
Charlie led the way and soon found the trunk. Annie stepped carefully, avoiding an assortment of old furniture and boxes. The one light bulb hardly illuminated the space.
Charlie knelt down in front of the trunk. ‘We’re in luck, it isn’t locked. That saves me searching for a key. Let’s just take a handful each downstairs and then we can see what years we’ve got.’
He started to pass the diaries to Annie. There was an assortment of colours and sizes and only some were proper diaries with the year marked on the front. Others were notebooks of sorts. When they each had as many as they could manage, they started down the stairs.
Spreading them out in the living room, Hegarty topped up their wine glasses first. ‘Not usually how I like to spend the evening after dinner.’
‘No, but there has to be something we are missing, with the brutality of the attack, the damage to the house. I can’t buy into it being Moorcroft, note or no note.’
‘And you’re convinced there is something from the p
ast?’
‘Something or someone, and if it was Moorcroft, she must have had an inkling for years of how he felt.’
‘OK, so what am I looking for?’ Charlie asked as he picked up one of the diaries.
63
Detective Malin put the phone down. He really felt for Gus Wojinski. From the photos in the house, it was clear how attractive his wife had been. She had everything to live for. As he opened the file again, the phone started ringing.
‘Detective Malin.’
‘Hi, Detective, it’s Penny Harrington, just wanting to catch up on the Carol Wojinski story.’
Penny Harrington was the local crime reporter. Not an unpleasant woman, he’d noted on many occasions. At least she wasn’t as pushy as her predecessor, whom Malin couldn’t stand. The papers were understandably eager for news. Carol Wojinski was known locally because of the bookshop and had lots of friends in the town. The first published story was just about the accident and reported that the police were assuming that both drivers had perished. However, as the days had passed and no second body was found, the local reporter was keen for a comment about the progress of the investigation. Malin had always believed that if you handled the press respectfully, they could be an asset in any investigation.
‘OK, so ask away,’ he said, doodling on his desk blotter.
‘Great to have some co-operation Detective,’ Penny Harrington laughed.
‘Be fair, Penny, you know I will tell you what I can.’ There was no tone of malice in his voice.
‘True enough, but other times you’ve left me hanging.’
The two had known each other for several years and Malin knew that the little game of banter would soon be over. ‘Alright, I’ll try not to do it this time. Ask away.’ He put his pen down and started to shuffle papers on his desk with his free hand. Now that he had spoken to Gus, he saw no reason not to release the name of the suspected driver of the other car and he knew that would be a key question.
‘So, what do we know about the other car, and the driver. Have you found the second body yet?’
‘No, despite an extensive ground search with helicopter assistance using thermo-imaging. If there was one to be found we would have found it.’ Malin paused and then added: ‘We now believe that there isn’t a second body.’
‘No second body? How can that be?’
‘We think that Carol Wojinski was forced off the road and that the second car was pushed over the edge. That seems to be consistent with what the accident investigators have found from the positions of the two cars, the tyre markings …’
Before he could finish the sentence Harrington interrupted. ‘Does that mean you are investigating a homicide?’
‘You’ve got it.’
‘Carol Wojinski was just an ordinary citizen. What possible motive could there be? I thought we were talking about a tragic accident, but deliberately forcing a woman, driving on her own, off the road … well, it’s another matter altogether.’
‘Obviously we don’t know who might have had a motive for this, but we do have the name of the man who rented the second car. We are issuing an alert for anyone who knows him to come forward with any details about him. I will be appearing on the lunch time local news with an appeal for information.’
‘That’s in an hour. I’ll be there at the studio, but how about a scoop on this one?’
‘Don’t see why not. His name is Jason Craven. Have you ever heard the name before?’
‘No.’
‘Well let’s hope some of the viewers, or your readers, have.’
‘Does Gus Wojinski know this?’
‘I spoke to him this morning.’
‘I don’t suppose you’ll share his reaction?’
‘I’m sure you can imagine. It’s bad enough having to accept your wife’s death is a tragic accident. It’s another thing when you find out it’s being investigated as a deliberate act.’
‘I spoke to him briefly when he first heard: he was pretty devastated then.’ Penny Harrington paused for a moment and then changed the subject. ‘So, what do you know about this Jason Craven?’
‘I can’t say much at this point, but we are investigating him. At this stage all I am prepared to say is that he showed a Massachusetts licence when he rented the car.’
Penny Harrington knew Malin well enough to know that this was all she would get from him for now. She needed to do some searching herself. ‘Thanks Detective, I’ll make sure to print that anyone with information on this man should come forward.’
As he put the phone down, Malin wondered if he should have mentioned that Craven was probably a false identity. Even so, someone might recognise the name being used. Perhaps he would clear up the point in the news conference. After all, he had given Penny a heads up on the investigation.
As he was about to review his notes, one of his fellow detectives knocked on the door. Steiner had only joined them in the last month. ‘What can I do for you Steiner?’
Steiner walked in the room shutting the door behind him. ‘I heard one or two of the guys talking about the Wojinski case, and they mentioned the name of the guy you’re looking for … Jason Craven.’
Malin looked at him intently. ‘Go on.’
‘Well, last week I took a call from a reporter in Boston. The guy works for the local free paper. Obviously, it’s not in the same league as The Globe. Anyway, he was putting a story together about missing persons and was asking for information from one of our cold cases but, as we got talking, he said he was writing the story because a woman had come to see him about her partner who was missing. The partner’s name was Jason Craven.’
Malin’s face lit up. ‘What details did he give you about this Jason Craven?’
‘Not much really, just that this woman had been ignored by the police. You know the story: adults go missing all the time, maybe he had a reason, that sort of thing. But the woman wasn’t convinced, and obviously her story intrigued the reporter enough for him to decide to do a bigger article on missing persons.’
‘Steiner, this is really good. I need the name of the reporter and the woman’s name.’
‘Thought you might. I’ve got my original notes here.
64
Breaking her usual habit of eating a quick sandwich in the office, Connie Lombardi decided instead to have lunch at the City Diner. As it was just around the corner, it was likely that there would be other people from work in there, but at least it was a change of scene. For probably the hundredth time that day, she checked her cellphone when she sat down. Still no message from Jason. As she looked at the menu, she knew she was just going through the motions of life: getting up every day, phoning her mother, forcing herself to go to work, always anxious to get home again in case he had written to her, put a note under her apartment door, left a message on her computer. Anything, anything at all that would let her know that he was still alive, that he was thinking about her. A month ago, her life had been so much more promising. Every day she’d woken up excited, knowing that she would see or at least talk to him but these last few weeks had really dragged.
Patrick Meehan, the reporter had been true to his word and written the article about people going missing. Disappointingly though, Jason’s story didn’t get the prominence she’d expected and assumed from their discussion. Instead, Meehan had managed to dig up an interesting tid bit about a local well known person whose brother had gone missing years before. That was the main story line, including a picture. No picture of Jason. In some ways, that was a relief. At least she didn’t have to worry about him being angry with her if his photo had been in the paper. Would he be angry? She was beginning to doubt how well she even knew the man she’d been sleeping with for nearly six months.
The waitress approached to take her order. Connie didn’t recognise her, but
assumed she was a college kid earning a few bucks for the next semester. ‘I’ll have tuna on toast, white toast, no fries, extra coleslaw and a black coffee.’ After she gave her order, she looked around, relieved that she didn’t recognise anyone. A woman at the next table was in animated discussion with her husband, and Connie engaged in her usual habit of eavesdropping.
‘Such a shame about that woman in Springfield wasn’t it?’ The woman remarked as she bit into her burger.
‘That woman whose car plunged down the ravine?’
‘Yes, Carol something, managed a bookshop.’
‘Blanche, don’t you remember me talking about that route?’
‘Can’t say I do, Hank. What about it?’
‘I used to take that road when I went to those district sales meetings. I know it very well, the drop must be 100 feet.’ Hank paused, concentrating on putting heaps of soured cream on his baked potato.
‘Hank, I forgot about that. Gosh was that the same road?’
‘Sure was. I hated that route, especially at night when I was tired.’
‘I’m glad I didn’t know about it at the time, I would have worried myself to death.’
The waitress brought Connie’s coffee over as well as a glass of ice water. ‘Your lunch won’t be a minute.’ Connie smiled, relieved that the waitress was quick, as she wanted to listen to the rest of the conversation without distraction. She remembered the news story the couple were discussing, although she hadn’t heard any update on it. But instead, they began reminiscing about the years he travelled and the news story got lost. Just as well as her lunch arrived. She looked at her watch: only 20 minutes to eat and get back to her desk.
Det Annie Macpherson 01 - Primed By The Past Page 23
