A Case of You

by Rick Blechta

  “I’d like to interview her, Andy. Today if possible. Can you arrange that?”

  “Things aren’t very good between her mother and me at the moment. The cops have already been over to hassle her. She’s going to be hard to convince.” He hesitated for a moment. “There’s also the fact that my daughter made the phone call to me secretly. Sandra grounded her, and she’s not supposed to talk on the phone. I don’t want to get her busted.”

  Shannon thought for a moment.“We can skate around that. I think the best thing would be to just go over to the house. We’d be a lot easier to blow off if you phone ahead.”

  “Well...”

  “Look, the worst she can do is deny us access. I have a few cards to play there. Are you still at the Yorkdale Holiday Inn?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Expect me in an hour.”

  Andy had told Shannon that no one could glower like his former wife, and judging by the woman’s expression as she held the door partially open, the PI believed him.

  “No, Andy, this isn’t a good time. Go away!”

  Lending moral reinforcement was “the other man” standing behind her, glowering almost as darkly. Lanky, balding and not all that handsome, Shannon couldn’t see why Sandra, a stylish blonde with smouldering good looks, had taken up with him. She knew that there were a lot of other dynamics at work in marriage breakdowns, but outwardly, both parties had gone on to radically different choices in their new loves. Olivia was dark, open, childlike. Both Currans had moved on to their opposites.

  Shannon stepped forward. “You may not believe us, but we’re here to help you. Your daughter has information the police will want to know. Sooner or later, they’re going to realize that. When they do, they’ll be standing on your doorstep, and you won’t be able to tell them no. Would you rather talk to them or to us?”

  “How can you keep the police from questioning Katherine?”

  Shannon indicated the bag she was holding. “I brought video equipment. I’ll record the entire interview. If there’s anything the police should know about, I’ll show them the tape.” She smiled in an engaging manner. “I know what I’m doing. I used to be a cop myself.”

  Sandra said, “If you’ll excuse us for a minute,” and shut the door.

  Inside could be heard some rather heated words between the ex and her boyfriend.

  “How do you think it’s going?” Shannon asked.

  Unexpectedly, Curran grinned. “Knowing Sandra, she’s made up her mind to keep me out. Perhaps good old Jeremy will be able to convince her otherwise.”

  After a three-minute wait, the door opened again, but if anything, the wife’s expression was darker. “I’ll give you half an hour. We’re very busy today.”

  Figuring she could get more time if it was needed, Shannon nodded and squeezed through the partially-open door. This woman’s feelings were quite easy to read.

  She was told to set up in the living room. With not so much as a pillow out of place, the space looked like something straight out of a home decor magazine. All probably the work of a very expensive interior decorator and a weekly cleaning woman, Shannon reflected, thinking of her own rumpled but very enjoyed living room. This room looked as if no one ever so much as walked into it.

  Kate was called downstairs but stopped in the doorway, the broad smile sliding from her face as she saw who was waiting, clearly fearing she was about to get yelled at over her forbidden phone call.

  “Daddy?”

  Curran crossed the room and picked her up in a strong hug.“How’s my girl?”

  Shannon noticed he was looking over Kate’s shoulder directly at Jeremy. The testosterone level in the room rose dramatically.

  “Daddy, what’s going on?”

  He walked over to Shannon. “Kate, this is Shannon O’Brien. She wants to ask you some questions. Would that be okay with you?”

  She had a very wary expression. “About what?”

  Andy smiled. “About Olivia. This is the person I’ve hired to find her. You want to help with that, don’t you?”

  “Daddy, why are you talking like a dork all of a sudden?”

  Sandra leaped to her feet. “Katherine Grace Curran! I have told you about speaking that way many times!”

  She glared across the room, but it was clear the anger was aimed at her husband. Obviously, the woman hadn’t spent much time in schoolyards lately.

  “Okay, kid,” Curran said, pretending not to notice the outburst,“I’ve brought this here private investigator to grill you about the missing woman caper. How’s that?”

  Kate wiggled from his arms and walked over to Shannon with her hand extended. “Are you really a PI?”

  “Yes, I am.”

  “I thought all PIs were men.”

  “You’re right. Most are.”

  The girl’s expression turned mischievous. “Are you going to close the curtains and shine a bright light in my eyes and scream at me?”

  Shannon grinned at her cheekiness. “We only do that to bad guys. You’re not a bad guy, are you?”

  “No. What do you want me to do?”

  “Why don’t you just sit here on the sofa with me, and we’ll talk. Okay?”

  Kate was obviously unhappy about her mother and Jeremy insisting on remaining in the room, but there wasn’t much to be done about it.

  Working slowly and methodically, the investigator took the little girl through her relationship with Olivia and her contact with Maggie. It went pretty much the way Curran had told her over the phone earlier.

  “So how many times do you think Olivia’s friend Maggie came over when you were there?”

  The little girl looked up. “Three. She came over three times. Sometimes Olivia babysat me if Daddy had to go out to play, and it wasn’t with the trio.”

  Sandra shifted in her chair and looked as if she might interrupt, but Jeremy put his hand on her arm, and she didn’t.

  “So Maggie and Olivia got along well together?”

  Kate shook her head. “Every time Maggie came over, Olivia was very sad afterwards.”

  “What did they talk about?”

  “Olivia always sent me out of the room, but I’d listen.”

  “Why?”

  “Because Olivia was my friend, and I wanted to protect her. I didn’t like it when she cried.”

  “So what sorts of things did they talk about?”

  “Maggie said that Olivia owed her, and she was being very stupid singing in my daddy’s band.”

  “Did she say why Olivia owed her?”

  “It was something about getting her out, getting her to someplace far away, and if she was smart, she’d keep her head down, otherwise they’d come and get her.”

  “Who?”

  “Maggie didn’t say. I thought it was about money, because Maggie always made Olivia give her money. I think Olivia just did it so she would leave. My daddy didn’t like Maggie being over at our house, that’s why she came when he was out.”

  “Is there anything else you can remember them talking about?”

  “Once Maggie said that she’d saved Olivia, and if she had to go back, they’d get her good, and Olivia started crying.”

  “When you saw Olivia last, how did she seem to you? Was she happy? Sad? The same as always?”

  “She was very quiet. I’d say things, and she wouldn’t hear them.” Kate looked over at her dad.“I think she was going to quit Daddy’s band and run away again.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  Kate shrugged. “She told me I could finish painting the room for her if I wanted. She’d sketched out all the forms, and I could colour them in. She says I’m very good at doing that.”

  “So she ran away?”

  “No! Those men came and took her before she could get away. Now she’s back where she was, and she’s really scared.”

  The room was still and Shannon’s voice, though gentle and soft, sounded almost strident in the silence.“How do you know that, Kate?”

 
; “She called me on Wednesday after school.”

  “This is really important: do you think you could tell me exactly what she said?”

  “It was hard to hear her because she was whispering. She said she was sorry she had to leave without saying goodbye. She also said to tell my daddy she was sorry, and I should take care of him.”

  “Sorry about what?”

  “She didn’t say. That was right at the end of the phone call. Something banged really loud, then there was shouting and the phone went dead.” Kate looked over at her dad with a troubled expression. “Olivia’s all right, isn’t she, Dad?”

  Chapter 10

  Shannon’s SUV was charging east through Mississauga on the 403. I got the feeling we’d spent more time talking to Kate than she’d wanted.

  “So where do you think we stand?” I asked.

  “What? Oh yeah. Sorry. I was just tossing something else over in my head.”

  “What?”

  “You puzzle me. You only seem passionate and committed about two things: your daughter and Olivia. To be honest, music appears to come a distant third. It’s been my experience that musicians are passionate about their art almost to the exclusion of everything else in their lives.”

  “Michael’s like that?”

  “When he’s ‘working’, as he puts it? Sure. Nothing else in the universe matters.”

  “I’ve always been a musician. Well, at least since age nine. That’s when my dad got me into the same drum and bugle corps he’d been in as a kid.” I thought about what she’d said.“You know, I fell in love with the drums because I was very good at it. I didn’t have to be shown things over and over. My teacher always said I just ‘got it’.”

  “But a lot of people play instruments when they’re young, and they become quite good. Then for some reason, they move on to other things. Surely you must know, must have played with people like that. Why are you still playing at your age? Not to be insulting, but you can’t be making all that much money.”

  “It’s what I do,” I answered simply.

  “Maybe the difference between Michael and me is that I don’t compose. I don’t aspire to be anything more than a jobbing musician who’s very good at his craft – and I am.”

  “What would you do if you had to stop playing drums?”

  “I don’t know. I like to read. If I didn’t have to make a living, I’d probably spend a lot more of my time reading.”

  When we pulled off the 401 at Dufferin so she could drop me at the Holiday Inn, I added,“I can’t imagine not playing drums, if that’s what you’re getting at. I’d be pretty unhappy if I couldn’t.”

  ***

  Shannon was at work early the next morning, feeling really energized for the first time in weeks. Yesterday evening had been just the tonic she’d needed: her mother’s excellent dinner, a nice bottle of wine, then the whole family had watched a couple of movies. She’d even let Robbie stay up well after eleven – to his amazement.

  Later, she’d also asked Michael to stay, and that had been all right, too. That morning, there had been no disapproving glares from her mother when they came down to grab a piece of toast and tea before heading their separate ways.

  Also spurring her on was the fact that the Curran case had reached the point where her blood was always stirred. The next step they might take would be the equivalent of releasing the bloodhounds: getting into the field, talking, improvising, taking chances, and hopefully in the end carrying the day. This was where she could still love her job.

  Even though it was only just eight o’clock, Jackie was already sitting on the office doorstep with her own cup of coffee. A proprietary arm lay over her bulging backpack.

  “You’re here early. I was hoping for some quiet time to catch up on a few things.” She stuck her key into the door lock. “Curran isn’t due until ten. He’s down springing his car from the cops.”

  “I know. I just got off the phone with him.”

  “Why were you talking with him?” Shannon asked over her shoulder as she switched on the lights.

  “I wanted to ask him some questions.”

  “About what?”

  “About what I’m going to show you.”

  “Okay. Come into my office, and let’s see what you’ve got.”

  While Goode laid out yet more computer printouts and her notes, Shannon checked her email. Another of the agency’s jobs was coming to a conclusion nicely, while the just-completed one was only waiting for her to finish the report to the client. Cheques from both would be good and fat. A returning client wanted several security checks on prospective employees carried out. Business was certainly booming.

  “Ready?” Jackie asked, as she sat down in the chair on the opposite side of the desk.

  Shannon turned away from the computer monitor. “Fire away.”

  Jackie slid a photo across the desk. “Take a look at this.”

  The photo was of a girl, maybe in her early twenties, good looking, dressed in a gorgeous ball gown, and on the arm of an older man in a tux, presumably her father. Judging by the hair and clothing, the shot had been taken maybe twenty years ago.

  “Who is this?”

  “Margaret Joy Allan Springfield of the Baltimore Springfields. This is from her coming-out party.”

  Margaret. Maggie. Shannon had only seen her after being strangled, but now that she knew, there were some echoes of the fresh young thing beaming out of the photo in the contorted and bruised face she’d seen on Andy Curran’s front porch.

  “How did you come up with this?”

  “By working twelve hours yesterday, mostly on my friend’s computer. I also ran up a pretty hefty phone bill and some Internet search charges, by the way.”

  It was always heart-wrenching to see a hopeful young face, knowing that they’re going to finish their life on the killing floor, the subject of police crime scene photos, media speculation and endless heartbreak to those who loved them.

  “So tell me what you’ve got on her,” Shannon said, putting a damper on her emotions.

  Jackie scanned down her notebook. “She was born into a well-off family. Dad was a lobbyist in Washington, mother was a university professor, both from old money, both now deceased. At the time of her death the other night, Maggie was forty-three and seven months. She has a brother and a sister, both younger, and from what I’ve found, she had a fairly normal childhood, assuming you include summers in Europe, skiing in Colorado, safaris, cruises and country club membership a normal part of life. The rot didn’t begin to set in until she was in her mid-teens.

  “The parents had her in a private boarding school. First inkling of anything being wrong is when she got summarily booted out, apparently for drug use.

  “They put her in the local high school, where she again got into trouble. This time it included skipping classes and minor stuff like smoking. Her first arrest was at age sixteen for shoplifting, followed by one for assault on a classmate.

  “At this point, the beleaguered parents put Maggie into a full time program for problem children, and from the little I could find out on that, she straightened up and flew right, and finished off her high school years okay. Next hit I got was in university. This time it definitely was drugs. She got busted by the cops in a campus raid. First rehab stint for her. Are you beginning to get the picture?

  “Well, with what I’ve been able to find out about her life, it’s pretty much the same after this: she gets in trouble, parents bail her out, she does all right for a year or two then backslides. Cycle repeats.”

  Shannon was pleased and impressed. “Obviously, a good bit of this information didn’t come off the Internet. Who did you talk to?”

  “I worked on the assumption that Maggie and Olivia started out from the same place, namely Sunnyvale. Then I asked myself where they might have gone first. The nearest decent size town is—”

  “Reno, just across the border in Nevada. Right.”

  “Now, if you ran this institution, and you
found out one of your more important patients had got away but had the help of someone else, and you didn’t want the word to get out on that, what would you do?”

  “I’d get police help to catch the unimportant one. They’d be pretty sure Olivia wouldn’t strike out on her own.”

  “After that, it didn’t take me long to come up with Maggie’s real name. The Plumas County Sheriff ’s office put out an APB on one Margaret Springfield last October. From what I found out, our Maggie stole a car, drove to Reno and disappeared. The bulletin said she might have another patient with her. Her name was given as Olive Saint, incidentally. Once I had that, I was halfway home.”

  “How did you finally run her down?”

  “Basically, I figured she might have had other brushes with the law and that they’d have been reported in the papers. Car thefts rate pretty low in the scheme of things – unless you’re a celebrity – so it took awhile. I just searched back until I found out she was from Baltimore. After that, I looked up her graduating class on that online classmate service, found a friend who was willing to talk, and that led me to her brother.”

  Shannon’s face fell. “You talked to her family?”

  “Sure. Why the look?”

  “Palmer and his crew probably haven’t gotten this far. They don’t know yet that Maggie started out from California. The family most likely doesn’t know that she’s dead.” She looked at Jackie. “Or did you tell them?”

  Jackie looked uncomfortable. “I, ah, skated around that.”

  “What did you say?”

  “I told her brother that she was involved with something here in Toronto and that I was trying to find her before the police did.”

  “Jesus! How could you? What do you think is going to happen when they get the news she’s dead? I have a good reputation with the police, and they’re going to know it was us. How could you have been so stupid?”

  Jackie’s face coloured. “I guess I didn’t think it through.”

  “Damn straight you didn’t think it through!”

  “Look, I’m sorry, okay? I took a shortcut, and I shouldn’t have.”