Last Rights

by James Green

  Chapter Sixteen

  ‘Can we go over it again, Mr Costello? You have a friend in London, Sr Philomena McCarthy, who contacted you and asked you, as a favour, to come to Vancouver and look into the death of a student, Marvin Brinkmeyer?’

  ‘No, let’s get it right. I obviously haven’t made myself sufficiently clear. Sr Philomena was at a conference in Dublin with Sr Lucy Gray. Sr Gray told Philomena about the suicide of someone she knew, Marvin Brinkmeyer. Sr Gray was worried and felt that the death was suspicious, that it had been pigeonholed as suicide too quickly by the police and that their conclusions might have been wrong. Philomena wanted to help so she said she’d try to find me. As it happened I now live in Rome and I know Professor McBride of the Collegio Principe in Rome, I do jobs for her occasionally. She was giving a paper to the conference. The three talked. Sr Philomena asked Professor McBride to ask me if I would come across to Vancouver and see what I could do. She asked, so I came.’

  Jimmy had guessed it was going to be hard to sell them the story and he’d been right.

  There were two of them, one about forty and a young one of about late twenties. The older one was Detective Inspector Brownlow and the younger one had been introduced as Detective Constable Liu. Liu didn’t look Oriental, Jimmy thought, but the fact that he’d sat there and hadn’t said a word since they’d come into the suite gave him an air of inscrutability, or maybe he was just imagining it. Either way it was the older one who was doing all the talking.

  ‘That’s quite a set of coincidences, Mr Costello, the three of them being on the same conference.’

  ‘Not really. They all work in the same field and the Catholic world isn’t so very big when it comes to academic conferences. Philomena and Sr Gray were members of the same Order. It would only seem a bit far-fetched to someone who didn’t know the Catholic Church from the inside. Are you Catholic, by the way?’ The policeman ignored the question and waited, obviously unconvinced. ‘If you have any doubts about it then check it out. Get in touch with Sr Philomena in London and with Professor McBride in Rome and ask them. Check out the Dublin conference with the organisers and see if all three were there.’ Jimmy thanked God that while McBride might be devious she was also thorough. The story did indeed sound goofy, but the details would stand up to any sort of check, and that was what mattered. ‘I really am trying to help, Inspector. I don’t like my story any more than you do, but unfortunately it’s the truth, the only story I’ve got, so I guess I’m stuck with it.’

  And Jimmy sat back.

  The inspector glanced at Liu, who said nothing and went on being inscrutable. The inspector got going again.

  ‘What exactly do you do for this Professor McBride?’

  ‘I do odd bits of research for her. Nothing very academic, background stuff on people and places mostly. Routine plodding, times, dates, the sort policemen are used to and supposed to be good at.’

  ‘Private detective work?’

  ‘No, mostly from archives. Could this bloke have been in this place at this time?’

  ‘Sounds like private detective work.’

  ‘Yes, except that the bloke could be somebody like Henry Teonge, the place might be Aleppo, the date 1675. That was one I did for her about three months ago. She didn’t think the travel arrangements of the time allowed what he’d written in his diary to work, that he’d maybe fiddled his dates a bit.’

  Jimmy knew the question about his relationship with McBride would get asked so he was ready. He added thanks to Wikipedia alongside those to McBride.

  ‘I see.’

  Inscrutable suddenly came to life.

  ‘We will do as you say, Mr Costello. We will check what you’ve told us and check thoroughly.’

  The older detective nodded. ‘Yes, we’ll check.’

  And Inscrutable went back into neutral.

  Jimmy felt a little uncomfortable. He was fairly sure he could deal with the older one but this young bloke might take a bit of handling. Always beware of quiet coppers. If they’re not talking they’re thinking and you do well to ask yourself what is it they’re thinking about?

  The older man resumed with, ‘How did you come to know this Sr Philomena?’

  ‘I was on a placement?’

  ‘What sort of placement?’

  ‘I was thinking of becoming a priest, it was a pastoral work sort of placement. As you can see it didn’t work out. I went to Rome for training but gave it up after a year. I liked Rome though and stayed on. That’s how I came to know Professor McBride. ‘

  ‘And why exactly did your friend Sr Philomena think you could turn up anything by looking into the death of Marvin Brinkmeyer? Have you any experience of police work?’

  ‘For thirty years I was a copper in the Met in London. For most of them I was in CID and made it as far as detective sergeant. I took early retirement, stress, you know, it gets to you. But to help a friend of a friend, well you know how those things are. You feel obliged, and I’ve always wanted to see Canada. It wasn’t that I thought I could do anything about the suicide, more an excuse to come over here and take a holiday. I’ve already discovered your waterfront down by the ferry terminal. There’s a bar there that does a pint that would do credit to London. And last night I went to a restaurant on the Coal Harbour Quay where -’

  But the older policeman didn’t want any more from Jimmy’s travel brochure.

  ‘What did Sr Gray tell you about Brinkmeyer’s death?’

  ‘That he was a happy, well-adjusted young man who was about to become a Catholic and wanted to be a priest. He was looking forward to the future and was not in the least suicidal.’

  ‘And what did you think?’

  ‘That it was wishful thinking on her part. She liked him so she couldn’t accept the idea of him putting a shotgun in his mouth and blowing his head off. The police must have come to the same conclusion when she went and told them what she thought.’

  ‘And did you tell her what you thought?’

  ‘Yes. I didn’t use the words wishful thinking but I made it clear that I thought it had to be suicide.’

  ‘And?’

  ‘She asked me to talk to a few people who knew him. I’m supposed to be meeting three of them today at lunchtime, twelve thirty. I doubt it will get me anywhere. I have to say though, as an ex-detective, I am more than a little concerned that the Gray woman… that Sr Gray should die so soon after getting me here to look into a suicide which she thought was a murder.’

  ‘Do you think her death is connected to Brinkmeyer’s?’

  ‘I don’t know. To answer that I would have to know how she died.’

  The older man didn’t say anything. For moment Jimmy thought he wasn’t going to get told anything. It was the younger man who answered.

  ‘She was strangled.’

  The older man looked at him, he was annoyed and not doing a good job of hiding it. Who is the real boss here, wondered Jimmy.

  ‘In that case, Inspector, I certainly wouldn’t rule out a connection. Has the scene of crime given you anything besides cause of death?’

  But the inspector wasn’t about to give out any more free information.

  ‘What are your immediate plans, Mr Costello?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘I don’t think we would be happy if you were to continue looking into the matter of the student’s suicide.’

  ‘Is that a threat?’

  ‘No, Mr Costello, of course not, it is a simple statement of fact. This is a police investigation into a serious crime. Any attempt to involve yourself further in any associated matter might complicate things. If what you have told us is true, and I’m sure it is, but as I’ve said we’ll check, then as an ex-detective I’m quite sure you understand what I mean.’

  ‘Police on the inside, everyone else on the outside? Yes I understand. I’d want it that way as well if it was my case.’

  ‘So, what are your immediate plans?’

  ‘As I’m here I’ll take a few mor
e days to get to know the town. So far I’ve liked what I’ve seen. Then I’ll head back to Rome.’

  Jimmy could see that the older one was ready to wrap it up. The younger one he wasn’t so sure about. He got the feeling that Inscrutable wanted to take it further.

  The older one stood up and the younger one followed suit.

  ‘Thank you for your co-operation, Mr Costello. We’ll be in touch if we need to talk further but I doubt that will be necessary. Feel free to leave Vancouver whenever you wish, but if you do wish to leave, please inform us first.’

  They headed for the door. At the door Liu looked back.

  ‘I’m glad you like Vancouver, Mr Costello, but to really appreciate it you need more than a few days. At the very least you must spare a day or two to see Chinatown.’

  They left and I sat looking at the door.

  What the hell did that mean? Liu obviously wasn’t a bloke who wasted words, so what was that last bit all about?

  Jimmy got up and went across to the window. It was another fine day, sunny and warm. He was getting very fond of this view, he would miss it when he left.

  He went to the kitchen area and made himself a cup of tea. So, now what?

  See the three people that Gray had lined up then go to Seattle and see what Pa Brinkmeyer had to say? Or should he follow up that Chinatown crack and see if Inscrutable meant anything by it?

  No. The pressure was building on this thing and it was all turning nasty. Get out, Jimmy, go through the motions, make enough moves to satisfy McBride, then head for home. Gray had been strangled and that was enough for him. Someone was ready to kill because of this business and it wasn’t down to some ordinary villain. Villains didn’t strangle people, they shot you or knifed you or beat you to death. They might run a car over you but they didn’t strangle you. That was amateur-night stuff, intimate and up close, and that made it too dangerous for him to hang around. You knew where you were with villains, but with amateurs anything could happen, you just couldn’t predict what they would do, or sometimes even work out why. No heroics, Jimmy, just go through the motions, go through them very carefully then get out. Do like the man said, leave it to the coppers.

  He put his hand to the side of his lower chest. He got a sharp pain there sometimes. The blade must have hit a rib when it went in, nicked it or something. He’d been lucky, he’d lived. Now he was older and wiser. He’d had enough of rough and tumble, he was happy to leave the tough stuff to the tough guys.

  He looked at his watch. There was time before he went to see Marvin’s friends to walk down to his bar, get a coffee and look out at the water. He’d watch the ferry if it was there and maybe retrieve the hotel’s umbrella. He felt better. Now it was all but over he could relax. He didn’t need to think about who did what or why and the Church could sort itself out as best it could, stolen art or no stolen art.

  But old habits die hard if they ever die at all and, as he got himself ready to go out, his mind wouldn’t leave it alone.

  Why did the idea of stolen art treasures annoy him? Why couldn’t he just forget it? Then he thought of the Gray woman. Strangled, not a nice way to go and a cold way of killing. Yes, he was better out of it. He was too old for this sort of thing any more. McBride should have listened to him. She needed someone younger, someone like that young copper who had been so quiet. He thought about the copper. What was it he had been thinking about during the interview? He put on his jacket. Forget it, leave it alone. Go and have a coffee, watch the boats in the bay and get that bloody umbrella back. Be a tourist and take it easy.

  He left the suite and just as he closed the door he heard his phone ringing. He walked on down the corridor. Whatever it was he didn’t want to know. He took out his mobile and switched it off and headed for the elevator. He didn’t want to know, it was over and he was out of it.

  The elevator was empty so Jimmy didn’t mind speaking his thoughts out loud.

  ‘Sorry, Philomena, looks like it won’t get done after all, at least, not by Jimmy Costello.’

  Chapter Seventeen

  The taxi couldn’t get into the car-park, the entrance and exit both had police tape stretched across them and there was a uniformed policeman standing by each. The taxi pulled away. There were a few cars in the car-park and two police cars. Jimmy’s old instincts clicked in. The cars must have been early arrivals who’d parked them as normal. That meant the body hadn’t been found then. But there were only five so the discovery must have been made after people started arriving for work but before the rush began, say sixish. So who would be in the chaplaincy building at sixish? One of the uniformed policemen walked to him.

  ‘Can I help you, sir?’

  ‘Is this where it happened, the murder?’

  ‘Who are you, sir?’

  ‘Nobody.’

  ‘In that case would you leave? These buildings are closed until further notice.’

  ‘Sure, officer.’

  Jimmy turned and walked along the street headed in the direction the taxi had brought him. Well, he’d turned up, he had made the effort like McBride had wanted. No one else was there. No Sr Gray, no office, no-one to talk to, no meetings. He didn’t know the people he was supposed to meet and they didn’t know him. Without any way of making contact he could leave…

  ‘Excuse me.’

  Jimmy stopped.

  She was in her thirties, maybe. It was hard to tell. Short, black hair, glasses, jacket over a pullover, plain skirt and big feet. Jimmy waited but she stood there waiting for him to speak first.

  ‘Can I help you?’

  ‘You wouldn’t be Mr Costello, would you?’ Jimmy didn’t answer. ‘Because if you are, I think Sr Gray wanted me to talk to you. If you’re Mr Costello that is.’

  Jimmy didn’t like her. She spoke as if she was nervous but she didn’t look nervous. She looked odd. She wasn’t bad-looking or good-looking. She was odd-looking. But, thought Jimmy, if she comes to the chaplaincy she must be…

  ‘I’m Costello.’

  She held out a hand.

  ‘I’m Laura, Laura Lawrence. Sr Gray said I should be here to meet you but when I came… well, you saw it. There’s a policeman at the door. He told me to go away. What’s happened, Mr Costello?’

  ‘Sr Gray has been murdered, strangled. Looks like it happened in the chaplaincy.’

  ‘Oh my God.’

  Jimmy waited. News like that usually needed a few minutes. Now he was stuck. He’d broken the news so he couldn’t really just walk away and leave her standing on the street.

  ‘Do you still want to talk to me, Miss Lawrence? If you’d like to leave it alone I would understand.’

  ‘What? Yes, I’ll talk to you. Sr Gray said it was about Marvin.’

  ‘Yes, about Marvin.’

  ‘Shall we go somewhere?’

  ‘Yes.’

  She waited for him to lead.

  ‘Where shall we go?’

  ‘Excuse me?’

  ‘I’m a stranger round here. In fact I’m a stranger in this whole town. Do you know somewhere we can talk?’

  ‘Oh, I see. Yes, there’s a place.’

  But she didn’t move.

  ‘Will we need a taxi?’

  ‘No, it’s only a short walk.’

  ‘OK, let’s go. Which way?’

  She turned back the way he’d just come.

  ‘This way.’

  And they set off.

  The café wasn’t far and wasn’t too busy. Jimmy got them coffees and they sat down. He wasn’t interested in anything she might say but the sooner he got her talking the sooner he could be on his way.

  ‘Tell me about Marvin.’

  ‘Well, I can’t tell you much. I knew him. We were both students at the university.’

  ‘Aren’t you a bit old for a student?’

  ‘No. I’m twenty-seven.’

  ‘Isn’t that a bit old?’

  ‘Not if you’re doing post-doctoral research.’

  ‘I see. Were you and
Marvin in the same department? Is that how you met?’

  ‘No, I’m English, he was Art History. We just sort of met. I liked him, he was a very nice guy, easy to talk to.’

  ‘You brought him to the chaplaincy.’

  ‘Yes. He was gay, like me,’ she gave him a quick look then continued, ‘but he didn’t try to hide it.’

  ‘And you do?’

  ‘No, not hide exactly. I’d rather not talk about it if you don’t mind. Unless it’s important to Marvin’s death.’

  Jimmy didn’t want to talk about it either and he no longer gave a damn about Marvin’s death.

  ‘No, it’s not important. Was it his idea or yours?’

  ‘Sorry?’

  ‘Going to the chaplaincy, did he ask you or did you suggest it?’

  ‘He sort of asked me.’

  ‘Sort of?’

  ‘He used to go to the university chaplaincy, there was a priest there he spoke to. But he wanted to talk to someone else, someone not connected with the university. I knew about the chaplaincy so I suggested we try there.’

  ‘You used Sr Gray’s chaplaincy?’

  ‘No, but I knew about it.’

  ‘Did you know what he wanted to talk about?’

  ‘No, he wouldn’t say and I didn’t like to pry but he seemed to get what he wanted after he talked to Sr Gray. He must have because he kept on going.’

  ‘And you, did you keep on going?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Why what?’

  ‘Why did you keep on going?’

  ‘Mr Costello, I am not ashamed of who I am or how I am.’