The Detective Lane Casebook #1

by Garry Ryan

  “We think the other two are Marvin and Lester Klein,”

  Lane said.

  Stephens looked at her rubber gloves.

  “I’ll write it down for you,” Harper said. He pulled out a notebook.

  “Thanks,” Stephens said.

  “Explaining this to the daughter won’t be easy,” Lane said.

  “You are going to do that?” Harper said.

  “We are,” Lane said.

  “Don’t envy that duty.” Stephens’ face was a mask.

  Harper reached to put the names in her breast pocket, turned red and dropped his hands.

  Stephens smiled, “Just put it on the clip board on the front seat if you wouldn’t mind. Oh, one thing that’s unusual, it looks like an accelerant was used to start the fire.”

  “Anything else?” Lane said.

  “By the look of the skid marks, the van hit that one first.” She pointed at the blue semi. “Then it rolled onto its side and was hit by the pickup. The gas tank ruptured and that was that.”

  Lane looked at a sky turning orange. He turned to Harper, “We need to talk to Beth. I have to see her face when we give her the news. Then I’ll know if she had anything to do with what happened to Swatsky.”

  “We also found this at the scene.” Stephens pointed at a plastic bag with a pistol inside. “Smith and Wesson 9 mm Sigma.”

  “Probably belonged to one of the Klein boys,” Lane said.

  “You may want to do a ballistics check. And, just so you know, this will probably turn out to be a very big news event.”

  “Tell me about it. The reporters left in a big hurry. They were all excited about how some poor bastard drowned in the arms of his sex doll.”

  Tuesday, August 8

  CHAPTER 24

  “What’s so funny?” Ernie said. He was wearing a new black shirt and pants bought especially for the funeral.

  Beth brushed the lapel of her red jacket. “I was thinking about Mom. We went for a drive out in the bush just after Judy ran away. Used to go quite often in the spring when the leaves came out and in the fall when they turned. It started to rain. The road was pretty rough. We got stuck. Mom put Dad’s big rubber boots on and got out to push. I can still see her face as she pushed against the hood. Dad worked the gas and clutch and we started to move back. Mom’s eyes got real wide. Her hands slid off the hood and she disappeared. We kept backing up and there she was lying face down in the mud. I looked at my Dad, he looked at me. Mom rolled on her back and started to laugh. When I think of her in the mud and hear her laughing, it always makes me smile.” Beth looked around the funeral home’s reception room where elderly people talked and drank coffee.

  “Look at her,” Ernie said. His cousin, Lisa, stood next to the coffee urn. She wore black eye shadow, a black blouse, black jacket, black skirt, black stockings and black leather shoes. As people came up to refill their cups, Lisa smiled, held out a business card and said, “LEONA WAS MY GRANDMOTHER. MY BUSINESS IS LIFE, DEATH AND TAXES.” She handed a card to a woman. The woman muttered something in Italian.

  “SORRY, I DIDN’T HEAR THAT,” Lisa said.

  “Donna de la notte!” The woman said and turned without taking the card.

  “AUNTY, WHAT DID SHE SAY?”

  “She called you a lady of the evening,” Beth said.

  Lisa considered this for a moment then smiled when she spotted the arrival of two men in suits.

  “Can pick your friends but can’t pick your relatives,”

  Arthur said.

  Beth said, “Who are you?”

  “Arthur.” He extended his hand and pulled her close. He was impeccably dressed in a single-breasted grey suit, rainbow tie and blue shirt. He put his arms around her and hugged. Beth closed her eyes at this unexpected kindness.

  “Arthur always says what’s on his mind. We came to pay our respects,” Lane said.

  Arthur released her and turned, “You must be Ernie.” They shook hands.

  Beth opened her hand in an invitation for them to sit. “Thank you for coming. I didn’t expect this.” She wiped her eyes.

  “My Dad had to leave right after the funeral. He had a business meeting,” Ernie said.

  Lane studied Ernie. Dark half circles lay on the boy’s cheeks. He must have lost between five and ten kilos, Lane thought.

  “How about something to eat?” Arthur said to Ernie.

  “Not hungry.” Ernie crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Well, then come and help me find something good.” Arthur took hold of Ernie’s elbow.

  “All right.” Ernie stood.

  “Lead the way,” Arthur said.

  “If anyone can get him to eat, Arthur can,” Lane said.

  “He’s still having those nightmares. Woke up screaming at three this morning. He thinks Bob is coming back.”

  “That’s not likely.” Lane studied her.

  “When you came to tell us what happened to my Mother and Ernesto, you watched me the way you’re watching me now.”

  “You’re very perceptive,” Lane said.

  “You wanted to see how I’d react?”

  “That’s right. I had to know.”

  “What?” Beth said.

  “If you knew what happened to Bob.”

  “Well, what did happen to Bob?”

  “Ummm . . . ”

  “Come on, out with it.”

  Lane glanced at Lisa handing out another of her business cards, oblivious to their conversation, “For one thing, I don’t know for sure. For another, you’ve experienced a series of tragedies.”

  “I was convinced my mother was hiding something from me. So was Ernesto.” Beth leaned closer to Lane, “What the hell are you holding back? There’s no way I’m gonna lose my son too!”

  “I don’t know the truth. I only suspect it.” Underestimating this family is a habit I have to kick, Lane thought.

  “Then, what do you suspect?” Beth said.

  “Will you answer a question?”

  “If you’ll give me some answers,” Beth said.

  “What’s it been like dealing with the media?”

  “This morning I got a call from a talk show. They wanted us to fly to Chicago to discuss Ernesto’s relationship with the doll.”

  “What did you say?”

  “Do you know how to swear in Italian?” Beth said.

  “No.”

  “I swore at them in Italian.”

  “What about the newspapers?” Lane said.

  “A couple of tabloids phoned to set up an interview and take some pictures.”

  “Let me guess, you swore at them in Italian?”

  “It felt good to swear at someone. Miguel came home and wouldn’t lift a finger to help with the arrangements. Now, he’s using work as an excuse not to deal with all of this. I can’t swear at him. Ernie doesn’t need that. And I’ve had to put up with her for the last three days.” She glanced in Lisa’s direction. “She keeps hinting about an inheritance from her grandmother and how much she misses Nanny. So, when the tabloids call, I let them have it.”

  “If my suspicions are correct, then that’s just a taste of what you can expect from the media.”

  “I can take the tabloids. I can take the talk shows. But I can’t take losing my son. I’ll fight to the death to take care of my kid,” Beth said.

  “I suspect there’s been enough of that already.”

  “When do I get my answer?”

  “I’ll set it up.”

  Arthur and Lane argued in the Jeep on the way home from the funeral.

  Lane said, “It’s the only way. If I’m there when he talks to Beth and Ernie, then I have to do my job. If you’re there, it’s a different situation.”

  “And what if I refuse?” Arthur said.

  “Can you see another way?”

  “You’re forgetting something.”

  “What’s that?” Lane said.

  “Harper.”

  “He doesn’t have to know.”
r />   “Yes he does, he’s your partner.”

  “You don’t understand,” Lane said.

  “No, you don’t understand. You’ve got a partner. Harper works with you. You can’t shut him out like you’ve shut out most everyone else. It’s time to trust someone besides me. You think you can do this on your own. You can’t. Listen to what I’m saying to you. Harper’s a different person now. Trust him.” Arthur crossed his arms to say there was no point in discussing this further.

  Wednesday, August 9

  CHAPTER 25

  Ernie blinked and held on, keeping his eyes closed for over a minute. Opening his right eye first, he saw dust dancing in the sunlight. He turned his face to the pillow and wiped the sweat from his forehead. He heard snoring rise from a whisper to a roar before falling to a wheeze.

  “Lisa,” he said. She’d moved in before the funeral, camped out in Nanny’s room and had shown no inclination to leave.

  He couldn’t escape the nightmare of his Uncle and now there was Lisa, the walking nightmare. She filled up the house with her demands. “WHERE’S THE MILK? WHERE’S THE CEREAL? HAVEN’T YOU GOT ANY CORN FLAKES? ERNIE, GET ME A POP. IT’S SO HOT IN HERE. HOW COME YOU DON’T HAVE AIR CONDITIONING? WHAT’S FOR SUPPER? AUNTY BETH WHERE ARE THE SANITARY NAPKINS? WHAT DO YOU MEAN YOU’RE OUT? WHAT AM I SUPPOSED TO DO? MY MOTHER ALWAYS BOUGHT THE NAPKINS!” Ernie took to raiding Lisa’s stash of candies. She’d put them under some of Nanny’s clothes in a drawer and whenever the opportunity arose, he’d grab a handful and stuff them in his pocket. Lisa had begun to stand very close, sniffing his breath and saying, “ANYTHING TO CONFESS?”

  Nightmares of Uncle Bob came every night. Sweat and the smell of onions stayed with him. Lisa had to have onions with every meal. She fried them, boiled them or ate them raw. Even over the dusty, lingering scent of his grandmother’s cigarettes, there was the ripe, thick, sharp stink of onions.

  He pulled on sweats and a T-shirt. Ernie remembered the salads Nonno used to make: tomatoes, yellow peppers, cucumbers, lettuce with vinegar and olive oil. Then he remembered onions. Nausea ground him down.

  Scout lifted her head and stretched her front paws.

  Ernie rubbed her under the chin. She followed him downstairs. He looked for the oxygen line before remembering it was one of the first things his mother had thrown out. Next, she tossed the cigarettes.

  WHEEZE!

  He couldn’t smell his grandmother anymore. Just onions. He closed his eyes and hoped when he opened them again, he wouldn’t feel that itchy, annoying, rough, scratching against his eyeballs. For a day or two, crying had eased the irritation.

  He opened the sliding glass door and let Scout out. He reached for the remote on the coffee table, pressed power then sat on Nanny’s love seat.

  The news was on. “Love dolls and the men who buy them.” The reporter didn’t smile. Her eyes stared down the camera. Her black hair was parted down the middle and curled behind her ears. A shot of an ambulance pulling away with the Bow River weir in the background. Back to the reporter. “The recent drowning of a Calgary man has raised many questions about love dolls and men who spend up to $7,000 to buy them.” Next a clip of a life-sized doll in a teddy sitting in a wooden crate. The reporter said, “More on V Channel at six.”

  Ernie pressed the power button. The picture faded. “Can’t even watch TV anymore.”

  Scout scratched at the door.

  Ernie stuffed the remote down between the cushions. “Let Lisa go crazy trying to find it.”

  He remembered the look on his mother’s face when Lisa cried, “MY PARENTS SOLD THE HOUSE. NEW PEOPLE MOVED IN. WHERE AM I GONNA GO?”

  Ernie let Scout in. She put her paws on his knee. He rubbed her under the chin. “How about a walk?” She ran for the back door, then ran back to see if he really meant it. The she waited, tail sweeping the linoleum as he attached the leash to her collar and opened the dead bolt.

  “TELEPHONE!” Lisa said.

  Beth rolled over and looked at the ceiling.

  “TELEPHONE!”

  Beth blinked and had her feet on the floor before she had time to think.

  “TELEPHONE!”

  “I heard you!” Beth stumbled into the hallway.

  “YOU DON’T NEED TO YELL!” Lisa fell into an injured silence.

  If I’m lucky, she won’t talk to me for the rest of the morning, Beth thought as she lifted the receiver.

  “I HEARD THAT!”

  Beth suppressed the urge to scream, then said, “Hello?”

  “Beth? It’s Judy. I’m so sorry, it just wasn’t possible to make it back for Mom’s funeral. Besides, I didn’t know if I’d be welcome.”

  Beth recognized the tone of voice. It was all at once patronizing, slick, syrupy and tinged with just the right amount of guilt.

  “And poor Ernesto dying on the same day. I don’t know how you coped,” Judy said.

  Beth heard Atlantic waves. She closed her eyes and thought for a moment. A part of her longed for sand and salt water sifting around her ankles. If she played it just right, Judy might invite her down. Beth shook her head and said, “What do you want?”

  “Pardon me?”

  Beth heard the real Judy. The Judy who always got what she wanted. “This is the way you talk to me when you want something. So, what do you want?” Beth said.

  Lisa appeared in the doorway, “DON’T YOU TALK TO MY MOTHER LIKE THAT!”

  Beth turned her head and stared, momentarily freezing Lisa with a glare.

  “I’VE GOT SUCH BAD CRAMPS!” Lisa said, held her stomach, and retreated into the bathroom.

  You can still hear what we say from the bathroom, Beth thought.

  “Is Lisa okay?” Judy said.

  If you’re so concerned, why isn’t she with you? Beth thought.

  Judy said, “It’s so good of you to take her in for me. I don’t blame you for being upset with me for missing the funeral, but we’re all that’s left of the family. We’re still sisters.”

  “Do you want to talk to Lisa?”

  “Oh no, we need to talk. Like sisters. Like we used to.”

  “Talk?” Beth said.

  “Well, you know, this business opportunity came up on the island and I just couldn’t turn it down.”

  “Bob show up yet?” Beth said.

  “Not a hair.”

  Beth was sure she heard relief in her sister’s voice. “We haven’t seen him either. Lisa would like to talk with you.”

  “I don’t want to bother her,” Judy said.

  “You sure?”

  “Look,” Judy said.

  Here it comes. The bottom line, Beth thought.

  “They’re attempting to freeze my assets.” Judy was all business now.

  “I thought only the daiquiris were frozen in the tropics,” Beth said.

  “It’s no joke. There’s an investigation.”

  “What kind of investigation?”

  “Something to do with the RCMP and the divorce,” Judy said.

  “Divorce?” Beth said.

  “Bob and I got divorced a little over a month ago.”

  Beth thought for a moment. Up to a couple of months ago, Judy’s only assets had been a house with a second mortgage and a car dealership that was slowly going bankrupt.

  She decided to push Judy a little harder. “Then, why did you phone us to find out where he was?”

  “Forget about that. I want my share of the inheritance.”

  You won’t be happy with the will, Beth thought. An idea blossomed. “She did leave some money. How do I get it to you?”

  “Well, it’s complicated.”

  She expected me to put up more of a fight, Beth thought.

  “I’ve got to have some kind of address if I’m going to send it.”

  “It has to remain absolutely confidential.”

  Beth reached for a pen and wrote down the address. “You like living on the beach?”

  “What did Lisa tell you?”

  “I can h
ear the surf, Judy.”

  “Oh.”

  “I’m sure Lisa would like to talk with you,” Beth said.

  “I can’t right now. Send her my best. How soon will you be sending the money?”

  “I’ll get right on it.”

  “Thanks. Bye.” Judy hung up.

  “Okay.” Beth set the receiver down. “Lisa, have you got a passport?”

  “YES.”

  Beth moved to the hallway. Through the bedroom doorway, she saw Ernie’s empty bed. “Where’s Ernie?”

  “HOW WOULD I KNOW WHERE HE IS? HE’S NOT MY BROTHER.”

  Ernie pressed the toe of his left runner against the heal of his right. Somehow, a pebble had hitched a ride inside his shoe.

  He balanced on one foot. Scout pulled. He ended up on his knees next to a red mini van with tinted glass.

  “Scout!” Ernie pulled on the leash. “Sit!” He did the same. Lifting the running shoe, he turned it upside down and watched the pebble fall out. “Now, where were we going?” he said while pulling his runner on.

  The van’s fan whirred.

  Why is its engine running? Ernie thought.

  The van’s side door slid open.

  Scout’s hair rose up. She growled and backed away.

  “Wait.” The voice came from inside the van. The man seemed to fill the interior.

  Ernie felt his mouth fall open and the sweat on his back chilled the length of his spine. It couldn’t be Uncle Bob, he thought. “No way.”

  The van’s front door opened. A woman stepped out. Her hair was blonde, gelled and cut short. She wore a yellow tank top and a pair of black shorts with bulky military pockets. She opened the rear hatch.

  There were goose bumps all along Ernie’s arms and he started to shiver. His mind reeled with memories of Uncle Bob.

  Scout barked a warning as the man stepped onto the sidewalk. His white shirt stuck to his flesh. He had black hair and a salt and pepper beard.

  Ernie thought, If it weren’t for the beard, he’d look just like, “Uncle Bob?” Ernie choked on the words.

  The big man stood. His fly was open. One white shirt tail peeked out.