by Rivers, Mal
“Then we come to how she hanged Lynch the way she did. Anyone with strength wouldn’t have had a problem. Which is why I knew Andonian or Melissa didn’t do it, as they have the strength not to struggle. Miss Harles, however, had to improvise. After Lynch was incapacitated by the injury to the back of his head, she put his belt around his neck, and then used something—let’s say rope or a cord from the janitor’s closet—to hoist the body upward from the other side of the stall. But it took several tries. The injuries to Lynch’s rib cage—neck joints, and finally, the blow that killed him, was his body falling downward onto the porcelain toilet bowl, as the belt failed to catch the hook.
“Then there’s the knife. Given the impromptu nature of events, it’s unlikely she had one with her, so she used something from the janitor’s closet. A small blade from the only thing she could find in such a place, perhaps a multi-tool, penknife, scissors, etcetera. Which could explain the weak nature of the cuts. Also, another question no one thought to ask: why was Guy Lynch’s tweed jacket covered with blood on the outside? Surely an unlikely scenario if she had cut him on the hook with his shirt unbuttoned. I would suggest it’s because she wore that jacket to shield herself from the blood as she cut into him. It was a necessary hardship, as she would have to leave that place looking relatively clean. If there is a likely place to find any evidence, look inside the jacket, and there might just be the slightest piece of skin tissue belonging to her.
“As for why she did it this way, that’s quite simple; she knew that it would be safer for her. If Lynch had merely been murdered, there was every chance, somewhere along the line, that his identity as the Cutter could be exposed. That the police may eventually track past events relating to Jake Segal to their original root. Dressing up the murder not only diverted attention away from her to a serial killer, but it would crush any chance Lynch would be identified as the Cutter
“As for how Andonian managed to catch the impersonator hours beforehand, I can only surmise it was complete happenstance. Perhaps Lynch had alluded somehow to his intentions before he acted. In either case, Andonian had Lynch under surveillance to some degree. Little did he realize he was following the wrong man. He confronted the actor, who can’t possibly satisfy the reasons as to why he was at a private detective’s office, so Andonian killed him. Only hours later does he realize the queer and baffling nature of what the real Guy Lynch had orchestrated. And naturally, Andonian was curious as to what information the actor may have told us, hence the further harassment.”
Gibbs retreated to a bookcase at the back and leaned against it. Mantle resorted to sitting on my desk. It was a speech hard to take standing up.
“To say that’s the most—what the hell did I get into,” Bromme said.
“I’m not buying it,” Mantle said. “Something’s missing—I don’t fully get Lynch’s motive. Like, why he started killing before.”
Quite perceptive, I thought. Ryder ignored it and waved a hand.
“I’ve said my peace. Make what you will of my assessment. Miss Harles has already confessed to her guilt.”
The Gillham and Mane members looked lost and deflated. Had I been Ryder, I’d have probably taken one look at Bromme, and decided it would be wrong to even ask for payment. Bromme rose, and Doreen Sharp followed his lead.
“If you don’t mind, I think I will be going now,” Bromme said.
Ryder shook her head. “If you please, I expect authorities here will wish to speak to all of you.” She looked beyond them to Johns and Mantle. “I realize I said other investigators can figure this out, but I would like to suggest Mrs Sharp was also aware of the goings on at Gillham and Mane.”
“What!” Doreen Sharp objected. “How dare you suggest such a thing.”
Ryder grunted. “You may recall earlier I asked Mr Rudd whether he realized the identity of Jake Segal’s murderer, after I had explained the candidate was inside my office, and that he most likely took this to mean that the candidate was likely a part of Andonian’s operation. He looked to his left, yet still, he couldn’t answer. He looked at both Miss Harles and Mrs Sharp.”
“Nonsense!” Doreen Sharp said. “Absolute nonsense.”
“Miss Ryder, this is obscene. Are you trying to convict every single person in my company?” Bromme said.
“They are responsible for their own downfall, sir, not I.”
By now, the agents moved in to calm things down. Mantle and Johns took Rudd and Doreen Sharp to one side, while Gibbs took Laura and cuffed her. I looked at Cassandra and she smiled, as if she had thoroughly enjoyed the night’s proceedings. I rose from the sofa, assuming it was all coming to an end. I was wrong.
Ryder held out a hand and said, “If you don’t mind, there is still one question I wish to address.”
“Oh, what’s that?” Gibbs said.
“The reason as to why I called the meeting at this time.” She looked at Bromme. “I doubt if you care now, sir, but you asked me earlier.”
“Why?” Bromme said, almost spitefully. Gibbs held Laura with one hand while Johns and Mantle kept a close eye on Rudd and Doreen Sharp.
“Because at least one of you here was aware of a major operation happening tonight—a handover—whatever you wish to call it, organized by Andonian and his gang. Isn’t that right, Mr Rudd? The rest of you may have heard me refer to it. However, the FBI of San Francisco were already aware of it, and are in place to intervene, presumably without the gang’s knowledge. So naturally, the only way I could make sure the FBI’s counter measures remained hidden, was to postpone my findings until now, and have everyone involved contained in this room, where I could observe, making sure they didn’t try to communicate.”
“What do you want, a cookie?” Johns said. “We’ve got the suspects here. We’ll make sure they don’t make a call or anything.”
Ryder shook her head. “You misunderstand. The fact of the matter is, I was wrong. It really didn’t matter what precautions I took. It was all for naught. Andonian’s gang was tipped off well before this meeting.”
“How do you know that?” Johns said.
“Because I’ve been following it all on my laptop while conversing with you.”
My head turned to her quickly in surprise. Because the end of my sofa doesn’t quite venture behind the line of her desk, I had never noticed what she was doing with the laptop.
“What, how?” Gibbs said.
Ryder smiled. “You may recall I have another temporary assistant who is currently absent from this room. That is because he made his way to San Francisco, and warned an agent by the name of Craig Swanson that his cover may already be blown. He has been conveying events through instant messaging to me. It was my intention to warn Agent Swanson that the gang would likely try to use the handover as a reversal, and lure the FBI into a trap. With that information in mind, the FBI could—how should I say this—reverse a reversal.”
So that’s where Sully went. I wish I’d have known.
Johns’ jaw dropped slightly. “How could you possibly know all that?”
“The point is I didn’t know, Agent Johns, I merely saw all the angles and was prepared.”
“So what’s your point here?” Mantle said. “That Rudd or the girl told them earlier? Then what was the whole point of this?”
Ryder leaned forward and returned her hand to her chin. “Like I’ve said, the point was to observe. I was mainly looking for a reaction, as all along, someone knew, or at least thought they knew better than I did; that everything at San Francisco was in hand, and that they could safely observe me, thinking I was in no shape to alter events there. Yet, after my little revelation, I saw their face.”
“Can’t you just spill it without the drama?” Mantle said, gripping Rudd’s arm. “Which one, this guy, or one of the women?”
Ryder shook her head. “One of the women, yes, that would be correct, but neither Miss Harles nor Mrs Sharp. For this, we must look to someone who was already aware of not only the goings on in San Francisco
tonight, but also someone who was aware that I knew. Someone with forehand knowledge, who had immeasurable access to information.”
“The hell are you suggesting?” Mantle said.
Ryder ignored her. “How about it, Agent Gibbs?”
Gibbs laughed. “What is this, a joke?”
“I think not. I leave the joking to my assistant.”
“I’ve had to put up with a lot of guesswork tonight, but this takes the cake.” She looked to Johns and Mantle. “Come on, bring the suspects, we’re leaving.”
“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Ryder said. “As soon as she takes Miss Harles away, I wouldn’t be surprised if some sort of accident occurs.”
Gibbs tightened her grip on Laura. “Don’t be absurd.”
In most cases, I would be agreeing with Gibbs. Ryder’s proclamation sounded quite strange, if it wasn’t for the fact Gibbs actually looked quite skittish.
“I suggest you check her cell phone, Miss Mantle. Do it now,” Ryder insisted.
“Why?” Mantle asked.
“Because the proof she has been in contact with Andonian will be on it. I suspect she has an entirely different phone for such occasions, but there should be at least one form of communiqué on there.”
Johns moved forward. “Hold on… why would she have something on her cell phone? You said no one made any attempt to communicate with anyone tonight.”
Ryder blinked and smiled. “That was true for when everyone was present. However, you may remember I was alone in this office with her for five minutes before you all entered. And I’m sure Agent Gibbs now realizes the little trick I played on her. I asked to speak with her, under the guise of wanting to go through some information that I didn’t want to appear during the course of this meeting. It was then I told her beforehand of what I suspected to be happening in San Francisco. Yes—when I said I saw a reaction, it was not while you were all here, it was earlier. I left for the kitchen, giving her ample time to contact Andonian.”
Everyone was looking at Gibbs now, all except me. I was looking at Ryder. Something felt off, but I couldn’t place it. I’d seen her pull all manner of stunts in my time, but I was starting to feel like this party was never going to die.
Mantle gave a disgruntled groan. “Fine, whatever, just show us your cell phone so we can go home,” she said to Gibbs.
Gibbs hesitated and let go of Laura’s arm. “Who do you think you are? I’m in command here.”
Gibbs came to realize refusal would only imply her guilt. She brought out her phone and looked at it in a daze. Before she realized, Mantle had snatched it. Mantle seemed to take a while reading it. She lifted her head up once, looked at the phone again and then faced Ryder.
“I don’t believe it,” Mantle said, almost robotically.
“Are you serious?” Johns said.
Ryder nodded. “Well, Agent Gibbs? I should have probably mentioned to you a long time ago we also had knowledge, albeit uncertain, that an FBI agent was working for Andonian. Given the circumstances, I’m glad I chose not to disclose it to you.”
Gibbs froze. In such a situation, you expect two reactions—maybe three—acceptance, denial, shoot the place up. She was definitely a candidate for the latter, but, to my surprise, she gave up quite easily.
Johns and Mantle called for another car to take everyone back to the station, all except Cassandra, who remained with us a while.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Miss Ryder,” Cassandra said. “At first, I thought Ader’s opinion of you was flattery, now I know that to be most certainly untrue.”
Ryder tried to smile. “Thank you. Will you stay for a drink?”
“Oh, I couldn’t,” she said. “Not after the entertainment has all been on you. It would only be right if I offered hospitality myself. What do you say, Ader? We are already overdue for that drink.”
I looked at Ryder and rubbed the back of my neck. “Well, I’d rather see how Sully got on first.”
Ryder nodded. “He is fine. I expect he is making his way back now.”
I nodded and looked at Cassandra, who smiled.
“Won’t you join us?” she said.
Ryder declined. “Oh, I would only be a third wheel. Please don’t feel guilty on my account. I should rest—it has been a tiring ordeal.”
I grabbed my jacket from the back of my chair and jiggled the pockets for my keys. Cassandra straightened her glasses and approached Ryder’s desk to shake her hand. Ryder swiveled in her chair, extended her good arm, but remained seated.
“Can I ask a question?” Cassandra said. “I followed this evening quite well, but I’m struggling to see how you managed to make certain leaps. When did you realize Guy Lynch intended to do what he did?”
Ryder put down the lid of her laptop and tried to hide the sigh. I suspect she was dreading an inquisition. She could tell Cassandra was as sharp as I had suggested, despite what she thought of psychology.
“The fact he had only my agency card on his person was information enough. The lack of anything else, like a wallet or keys, suggested he suspected he wasn’t going to be alive in the near future, although, I suspect that was information for myself.”
“Like the bracelet?”
“Yes.”
“And of course, if Laura had chosen differently, it could have all gone away. There was just the impostor at your office—which you wouldn’t have given much thought to otherwise. This Guy Lynch was smart, wasn’t he? It was almost as if he was using you.”
Ryder frowned. “Yes, to some degree.”
Cassandra bid Ryder farewell, and I walked her to the door. I helped her with her jacket and said, “I’ll be along soon.”
“Okay,” she said. She gave me the address and stepped elegantly over the stoop.
I closed the door behind me, leaned against it for a few seconds, and heaved a sigh. When I walked back into the office Ryder was still sitting at her desk, glaring into the middle aquarium. The tiger tail was in the blue light, floating lazily.
“You’re still here?” she said.
“I guess. I’m just curious—how did you peg Laura as the killer? There was literally nothing substantial that pointed to her, apart from theorizing she was linked to Jake Segal because of a diner and gossip.”
Ryder looked up. “I thought it likely she was involved long before then. You may recall at the first meeting with Gillham and Mane that I asked for details on Guy Lynch and she slipped. She said, ‘I think he had a brother’ and she stopped suddenly. Surely a curious thing to say, when Guy Lynch's post witness protection identity had no such family. So clearly she was inadvertently referring to Lee Lynch, information Guy Lynch would have never disclosed to a mere colleague. Of course, they weren’t just colleagues. They shared a similar set of guilty secrets.”
“Hmm, I completely missed that.”
“Naturally.”
“Will you be okay tonight?”
“Yes. Why, aren’t you coming back?”
“Beats me,” I said. “Anything’s possible.”
Ryder gave a mild yawn and rose, making her way slowly to the kitchen.
“Speaking of coming back—what about Melissa?”
“Do you know where she is?” Ryder asked.
“Not a clue. Tell me—if Gibbs was the crooked agent—what exactly was Kacie doing? Aren’t you remotely worried that Melissa might still be in danger?”
Ryder looked away and clenched her fist. “Ader, believe me when I say, as the male gender goes, you are an ample example of its kind. But it has to be said, you clearly don’t know women all too well. All this time you were looking for a cryptic reason as to why Melissa and Agent Cordell disappeared together, when you didn’t consider the simplest reason—attachment.”
I moved to my desk and leaned against it. Ryder wasn’t looking at me.
“Wait—you’re saying she and Kacie—no way, Melissa was her girlfriend?”
Ryder sighed. “Whatever distinction you wish to arrive at. A
ll you had to do was inspect Agent Cordell’s phone. She most likely kept it all a secret from her colleagues, but there were photos of the two of them buried in the phone’s archives. The reason for secrecy was likely because she was the agent who was called out the time Melissa—” She stopped and diverted. “The scene at the cabin was as simple as it looked. Agent Cordell saw Melissa’s danger and acted on it. Even to the extent of putting her job in great jeopardy. All I could do was watch as we hid her away. Truly, who is the greater person in all this? Not I. I was—am too worried for my own welfare.”
“Well—I guess to a certain extent there’s no need to worry. I’m sure she’ll come back now it’s all over. And you’re the one responsible for that. Why you beat yourself up all the time does my tree in.”
“Over?” Ryder said. “For the present, yes. But I’ve helped imprison another gang lord, and still have unanswered questions regarding twelve years ago. How naive it would be to call this over.”
She closed her eyes and took further steps toward the kitchen.
“Enjoy your night. Lock the door,” she said.
“I don’t have to go. I can stay if you want.”
“No—” Ryder held her single arm against the door. “Your conventional and habitual routine is as important as mine. We function our own way, and we are better for it.”
“I don’t know why you seem to think I’m some sort of socialite. I’m practically one step away from being as solitary as you.”
She turned and gave a faint smile. “You know that is, and never will be true, Ader. Goodnight.”
She went into the kitchen and never looked back.
I didn’t follow her. The truth of it is, we’re a pretty dysfunctional operation. There’s rarely an underlying sense of satisfaction at the end of any of our cases. There's little to take away. Most of the time shit just happens and it either concerns you or it doesn't. To expect a lighthearted pow-wow and a high five would just be dumb.
38
It was with a somewhat lamentable attitude that I made my way to Cassandra Bishop’s home, not too far from her practice in Beverly Hills.
