Edge of Crime: A Collection of Crime Stories

by John Moralee

  “There,” Nolan said.

  The tape was rewound and played at normal speed. The camera was in the left corner of the elevator, shooting in high-definition black and white. It showed Toby Dane getting into the elevator with a few guests from the party. There was the intense, blond man talking at Dane, Dane looking uncomfortable with the one-way conversation. There was also Lucinda Swanson without her husband, looking down at her wristwatch, shaking her head. They all stepped out at the third floor. A few seconds after the doors closed on the empty elevator, the blond man appeared getting into another elevator that stopped at the third. He went back down in it, clenching and unclenching his fists. In black and white, he looked ugly and angry.

  Nolan flicked through the programme book. “That blonde guy. He’s not listed as a guest speaker. I remember him. He was kind of creepy.”

  “A gatecrasher,” Judith said. “Let’s see if he shows up again.”

  The tapes were searched for another shot of him. He appeared in the elevator at one o’clock. He was not alone – he was with Harlan Swanson. The blond man was saying something. Nolan wished they had audio. Harlan Swanson replied. The man laughed, saying something else, twisting his mouth into a sneer. Suddenly, Swanson grabbed the blonde man by his T-shirt, pushing him into the wall. Whatever Swanson said next to the man made him cower. The elevator reached the third floor. When the doors opened, Swanson released the blond man and left. The blond man straightened up, grinning to himself as he pressed the button to go down. The tapes showed him leave the hotel at 1.30 a.m.

  Nolan looked at Judith. “That guy said something to Swanson, maybe goading him into doing something to Toby Dane. At the party, the blond man told me Swanson was a fraud. What if he told Swanson that Toby Dane had evidence to ruin his career?”

  Judith rubber her chin. “It’s a potential motive, but we don’t have a body.”

  “Can’t you look at his Lexus now?”

  “We haven’t just cause. Frankly, I’d like to know who that blond man is. If we knew what he said to Swanson, then we might get a judge to give us a warrant.” She turned to the manager. “Can you find him in the hotel right now?”

  “This is a real imposition,” the manager grumbled. “Mario, can you locate the blond man?”

  “He’s playing one of the slot machines in section D.”

  The cameras zoomed in on him. It caught him scratching his nose, entirely unaware of being under surveillance as he rooted inside his nostril. He was wearing a baggy Metallica T-shirt and loose-fitting chinos. He had not shaved since yesterday. His beard growth was dirty brown.

  “Bring him to the security office,” Judith said.

  *

  “Hey! What the hell is this? What did I do?”

  “Sit down.”

  He sat down, shifting uncomfortably, looking around at the muscular security guards blocking the door. Nolan could see sweat breaking out on his upper lip and forehead.

  Judith stood over him, showing him her shield. “My name’s Special Agent Linebacker. What’s your name?”

  “My name? Cliff Kelso.”

  “Show me your ID.”

  Kelso fumbled it out. “Look. I didn’t do anything. I’m just a visitor.”

  “What were you doing at the party last night?”

  “Oh. Is that’s what this is about? Okay, I crashed the stupid party. So what? Is that a crime?”

  “This is not about crashing a party,” she said. “Why were you there?”

  “I live near Rachel,” he said, as if that explained everything.

  “Who’s Rachel?” Judith said.

  Kelso sighed. “Rachel is a place up north. It’s close to Area 51, where the military are doing covert tests on UFOs. I sometimes go watching the sky for strange lights. I’ve seen some weird things – I’m a trained engineer, so I know what I’m talking about. A few times the camouflaged dudes have chased me in their Jeeps. I’ve spent over ten years studying what goes on in Area 51. You could say I’m an expert. A couple of years ago, I told Swanson all about the things I’ve seen. Showed him my photo and video collection, too. It was on the understanding that he’d pay me $5000 when his book came out and put my name in it. He used my material, but didn’t pay me a cent. He didn’t even mention me. I wrote to his publisher, asking for my money. His lawyer wrote me this letter saying he never agreed to pay me anything.”

  Kelso paused until Judith told him to go on.

  “I went to the party to ask for my money and to humiliate him in front of his cronies, but I chickened out. I knew it would just get me thrown out. I knew this other guy wanted to destroy Swanson’s reputation, so I talked to him.”

  “What was his name?”

  “Toby Dane. He’s a reporter. I told him my story. Dane said it was just my word against Swanson’s because I didn’t have a written contract. There was nothing I could do, he said. But there was something I could do. I confronted Swanson later, when he was in the elevator with nowhere to run. I wanted my money. He refused to pay me. Threatened me with his lawyers. Like I was the one in the wrong. Right then, I thought of a way of paying him back.”

  “What did you do?”

  “I paid back that liar with a lie of my own. I told him I saw his wife kissing Dane and going into his room.” Kelso grinned, remembering. “You should have seen his face. He looked like he wanted to kill me. It was real funny, seeing him angry like that. I went home afterwards feeling real satisfied. I came back today figuring I could heckle him at his lectures. He’s gonna have to pay me eventually. Look - I sure as hell haven’t broken any laws if that’s what he’s saying. Has he made a complaint against me or something?”

  *

  Judith called the crime scene investigation team. Two detectives arrived at the hotel. Nolan watched from the doorway as they went over room 303, searching for some evidence of a crime having being committed there. They were fast workers but thorough. They tagged and bagged hair samples. They looked for fingerprints. They sprayed luminol on the surfaces that would reveal any bloodstains not visible to the naked eye.

  One stain appeared on the wall. It tested positive as human. The stain, about the size of a tennis ball, was five feet above the floor, opposite the bed. There were also minute traces on the floor beneath it. It was enough for analysis. It checked out as the same blood group as Toby Dane. White fibres were vacuumed from the carpet from a towel. There was a towel missing from the bathroom.

  “Someone cleaned up,” Judith said to Nolan, “but you can never get all the blood out. Blood is worse than paint. You’d have to take the wallpaper off and cut a great big section of carpet away to remove it – I’ve actually seen a murderer do that, like it wouldn’t be noticed that his carpet had a square missing. This blood evidence is enough for that search warrant, Geoff. I want to go over that Lexus.”

  *

  Swanson was in the lobby signing books for his eager fans. Lucinda was by his side, probably bored, but smiling for the public. Nolan and Judith waited until the line disappeared, then moved in to tell Swanson of the warrant. His smiled vanished, replaced by the stony look of someone told he’d just been caught speeding.

  “Blood in his room … what does that have to do with me? I never went in there. I went to bed straight after that dumb conversation with Kelso. I never listened to a word that moron said.”

  “You once interviewed him,” Judith said.

  “Yes, but I discovered he’s a fantasist with delusions of grandeur. That’s why I didn’t use him in my book. He’s an unreliable source. He tells people he’s an engineer, with degrees from MIT and Cal-Tech, but the truth is he’s an auto mechanic with no high school diploma. I couldn’t use anything he gave me without looking like a total idiot. Now, the idiot has an axe to grind. Is he saying I’ve done something to Dane? I’d look at him as a suspect, not me.”

  “We are,” Judith said. “Which is why we need to clear up some matters. Mrs Swanson, what time did your husband come to bed last night?”

/>   “Why are you asking her and not me?”

  Judith ignored him. “Mrs Swanson?”

  “I don’t know. I was asleep.”

  “It was one o’clock,” Swanson said. “Are you accusing me of something, because if you are, I’m going to call my lawyer.”

  “We want to eliminate you from the inquiry,” Judith said. “That’s why we need to make sure you are innocent. That’s why we need to look at your Lexus. I’d appreciate the key for the trunk, Dr Swanson.”

  “And if I refuse?”

  “We’ll probably damage the lock, but it will be opened.”

  “This is outrageous. I’ll give you the goddamn key – but I want to make sure you don’t plant something. I’m watching you open it, okay?”

  Nolan knew Judith wanted him to be present. That way, he could not accuse the police of doing something illegal later.

  “Very well,” Judith said. “Please come with me.”

  “Let’s get this charade over with.” Swanson strode towards the elevator like a man about to kick down a door. Lucinda started to follow him, but he turned on her, holding up his hands. “Honey, stay here. This won’t take long, believe me.”

  Swanson looked agitated when Judith unlocked the trunk. It opened slowly, revealing it to be empty. The forensic team examined it, coming up blank.

  “There,” Swanson said smugly. “What did you expect to find? A body?”

  “Why’d you have the bellboy take your suitcases down to you car?”

  “My publisher delivered some books to my room. I decided they would be safer in my car.”

  “Where are they now, the books?”

  “I gave them away to people.” He glared at Nolan. “People like him.”

  “What about the suitcases?”

  “They are back in my room.”

  “I’ll get a warrant to look at them.”

  “Do it,” he said. “I’ve got nothing to hide.”

  “Why’d you drive into the desert?” Nolan said. Judith gave him a warning look – she didn’t want him asking questions.

  “That’s none of your business,” Swanson said. “I had to meet a confidential source. An insider at Area 51.”

  “What is the name of this source?” Judith said.

  “I won’t say. It was a confidential source. You do understand the meaning of that, Detective?”

  “Special Agent,” she said. “Mr Swanson.”

  “This conversation is ended,” he said. “Unless you want my lawyers to sue you?”

  *

  “I hate that guy,” Judith said, after Swanson had returned to the convention. “But his story is unshakeable.”

  “You believe him?”

  “No. I think he’s guilty. But that’s not the point. He has a plausible explanation for the suitcases. It’s all he needs unless we get more evidence.”

  “The blood …”

  “Proves something happened, not what. For all we know, Dane could have cleaned it up himself.”

  Nolan raised an eyebrow.

  “I know that’s unlikely,” she said. “I’d arrest the son of a bitch if I thought it would do some good – but he’d hit me with lawsuits. I don’t have enough evidence for prosecution. I’d need the body.”

  “Can’t you look for it?”

  “Where would I look exactly? My SAC would never approve a search over a thousand square miles of desert. It looks like he’ll get away with it and there’s nothing I can do.”

  *

  Twenty minutes after Judith left the hotel, Nolan was heading into the bar, intending to order a double whisky, when Benjamin Turco coughed, making his presence known.

  “Geoff, about tomorrow.”

  “Uh-huh?”

  “There’s not going to be your lecture, I’m afraid.”

  “Oh. Why not?”

  “It’s not me, you understand. Dr Swanson insists. And he’s why so many people have come to the convention. He’s threatened to drop out if you go ahead. Under the circumstances … I will ensure you are paid for coming.”

  Nolan felt sorry for Turco. “Don’t worry about it. I’ve alienated myself. No pun intended.”

  Turco apologised again. “Maybe next time?”

  “Maybe. Excuse me.” Nolan had seen Kelso hunched over a drink at the bar, looking miserably into his beer glass. Kelso looked up when Nolan took the next stool. “Why are you still here?”

  “Look, I’ve been feeling bad about what I did, okay? I didn’t think Swanson would do anything to Dane because of what I said. I mean, the guy’s a liar, but killing is something else. Nobody’s ever listened to me before. I’m just a big loser. I know that.”

  “How many beers have you had?”

  “This is my first of many,” Kelso said.

  “You still want to get back at Swanson?”

  “Of course,” Kelso said, cautiously. “What’ve I got to do?”

  “You got a car?”

  “Yeah. My pickup is down the street.”

  “Give me a ride,” Nolan said.

  “Where?” Kelso said.

  “Rachel.”

  *

  They stopped in Rachel at a place called The Little A’le’inn. It was a sort of bar/tourist shop with postcards and photos of UFOs everywhere. The pun had to be the worst Nolan had ever seen. The patrons knew Kelso as a regular, welcoming him like a brother. Kelso introduced Nolan as “his friend, Geoff, the astronaut who saw a spaceship.” Nolan shook several sweaty hands. The bar was hot, despite the fans whirring. The patrons were eager to help them, though. One man remembered the silver Lexus driving by earlier. It had returned roughly forty minutes later, covered in dust. It had stopped at the car wash before driving away.

  “A Lexus isn’t an off-road vehicle,” Nolan said, “so he’d have to pick somewhere not far from the road, somewhere he could remove a body from his car with nobody seeing him. It would have to be somewhere he could dump the body without worrying about someone finding it. Can you think of a good location within twenty minutes driving distance?”

  *

  The road was in a low canyon, bleached and stark, utterly lifeless. Nolan spotted fresh tyre tracks in the dirt so they followed them. The ground was rock and dusty. At one point the tracks swerved to the side of the road. Nolan and Kelso stopped a hundred feet short. They walked towards it. The ground crunched underfoot.

  “That’s a Pirelli tyre,” Kelso said. “His Lexus has them. Knew I could do something right. You think he’s left footprints?”

  “The ground looks too hard for that.” There was a flat depression in the dirt, where something in the trunk would have landed if dragged out. There was no track showing in which direction Swanson took it. But it had to be close. Swanson could not have dragged a body a long way. Nolan looked at the canyon walls and wondered if Swanson could have gone up one, dumping Dane on the other side. He doubted it. There was no easy path. The rocks looked unstable. Swanson would have lost his footing, even if he had the strength. No – Nolan didn’t think Swanson would have risked it. There were places nearer the road – like behind boulders and gullies.

  With no digging equipment, Swanson would have wanted to hide the body without making a hole. Covering it over with dirt and rocks would hide it. The rocks would prevent scavengers from digging up the body, exposing it. Nolan walked around, leaving Kelso back at the road, asking him where he was going.

  “Look for the body,” he said. “Are you coming?”

  “Um. I’ll wait at the pickup.” Kelso walked back.

  Along the bottom of the canyon, the rocks were spread out fairly evenly, ranging from little pebbles to ten-feet across. He thought of walking on the moon, where he’d looked specifically for unusual formations. He was a trained geologist. Those rocks must have broken off the canyon walls, rolling to their present locations. He saw a cluster of rocks that didn’t fit with the terrain. They were on the high ground in a pile. The rocks should have rolled down. It looked uncannily like a burial mound. Ea
ch rock could be carried with two hands. He lifted rocks and tossed them aside. He found more rocks underneath, but he persisted, lifting and throwing rocks until he reached a layer of dirt covering something in a hollow. He bent down, carefully not to touch anything with his hands. He blew the dust away. He was not surprised when he saw the material of a man’s suit.

  It looked like the suit Toby Dane had been wearing on Friday. He moved some more rocks, exposing more and more of the suit, stopping when he saw the blood-matted hair on the back of a head. He straightened up, suddenly feeling his age.

  “I found him,” Nolan called to Kelso.

  “You did?” Kelso said.

  “Yes! My phone’s in my jacket. Will you bring it? I’ll call the police.”

  “Uh – sure.” Kelso started walking across the rocky ground. He wasn’t bringing his phone, though. He was holding something else. The steel caught the sunlight, revealing what it was.

  It was a large wrench.

  *

  “What are you doing with that wrench, Kelso?”

  Kelso stopped. “Nothing. I thought … we might need it. Mark the spot, you know.”

  It was a poor excuse. Kelso started walking forward, trying to smile. His smile looked too wide, never reaching his eyes.

  Nolan stood his ground. He had a height advantage. He also had a load of rocks as weapons. “You’re going to kill me, Kelso?”

  “No,” Kelso said. “Don’t be stupid.”

  “Then put the wrench down.”

  Kelso looked down at the wrench as if he had suddenly noticed he was holding it. “This is harmless, man. You don’t think I’m going to hit you with it, do you?”