The Detective Lane Casebook #1

by Garry Ryan

  All the packing had been done after two this morning while Lisa snored. Beth had just finished at four AM when Ernie screamed himself awake.

  Beth thought, Where did all of that money come from?

  The shower stopped.

  Beth moved for the stairway. She checked to see if she was about to trip over the oxygen line snaking its way up the stairs and into her Mother’s room. You don’t need to do that anymore, she thought.

  The carpet on the stairs rubbed the soles of her feet like a memory.

  The sound of the television greeted her as she stepped off the bottom stair. “Orangutans have no need for human contact.” In the background there was the grunting of an ape.

  “PBS,” Beth said to herself. Ernie stayed on the safe channels. One naturalist program after another. Lisa, on the other hand, spent every waking moment watching the news and interrogating Beth.

  Beth stepped into the family room. Ernie sat in the easy chair with blank eyes staring at the screen. Scout was next to him. Her eyes were closed while both ears stayed erect and alert.

  “Ernie?” Beth said.

  He looked at her. Scout’s eyes opened.

  “We’re leaving right after Lisa,” Beth said.

  Ernie smiled.

  She looked at his belt. It was cinched two notches in from the old line worn across the leather. How much more weight will he lose in a week? she thought.

  The doorbell rang.

  Scout barked and bounded for the front door.

  Beth followed, reached the door and peered through the peephole. The man in the fish eye had on a white shirt, tie and jacket. She opened the door part way. Scout growled.

  “Taxi,” the man said.

  “She’ll be right out.”

  “Been waitin’ five minutes already,” the driver said.

  “Sorry.” Beth shut and locked the door. “Lisa, the taxi’s here.”

  “ALREADY?”

  “It’s been here for five minutes,” she said.

  “I HEARD THAT!”

  Beth cursed under her breath, “Bull shit.” Bent low, holding Scout’s collar, she walked to the family room. “Ernie, take care of the dog.” Scout jumped up and licked his face.

  At the back door, Beth lifted Lisa’s blue bag. “Try traveling light, Lisa.” She unlocked the back door and opened the screen. She took quick short steps down the driveway where concrete burned the soles of her feet. Looking beyond the black taxi, she saw the van with V CHANNEL stenciled on the hood. Beth heard the van’s door slide open when she stepped to the back of the taxi. Using both hands, she heaved Lisa’s bag into the trunk.

  Hopping off the pavement, onto the sidewalk and then the cooler grass, Beth looked across the street. A man backed out of the van’s side door. The driver’s door opened.

  Ralph Devine raised an arm and pointed at her, “Ms. Rapozo, a moment of your time.”

  She turned and, in spite of panic and the burning concrete, walked at a steady pace, stepped through the gate and closed it behind.

  “You’ll have to talk to me sooner or later!” Devine said.

  Beth stepped inside the house, making sure to lock the inside door. “Lisa!”

  “WHAT!” Lisa stood in the hallway with wet, straight hair. She rummaged through her denim purse. “WHERE’S MY TICKET?”

  Beth kept her voice free of any sarcasm, “It’s in your hand.”

  “NO WAY!” Lisa glared back before glancing at the ticket in her left hand. “OH.”

  “Taxi’s waiting,” Beth said.

  “I KNOW!” Lisa pushed past in a cloud of peach perfume. The scent caught at the back of Beth’s throat. She

  reached into her pocket and pulled out the envelope addressed to Judy. “This is for your mother.”

  Lisa turned, spied the envelope and snatched it. “MY INHERITANCE!” She stuffed the ticket into her bag.

  Beth watched, knowing what would happen next.

  Lisa ripped the envelope in half. Peering into one half, she reached in and pulled out half of two $1000 bills. “WHY DIDN’T YOU TELL ME THERE WAS MONEY INSIDE?”

  “It’s for your mom.” Beth pushed the fingers of her right hand through her hair.

  “THAT’S ALL?” Lisa peered into the other half of the envelope.

  “More than you deserve.” The words were out before Beth could think.

  “I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT! AFTER ALL THAT’S HAPPENED TO ME, I JUST CAN’T BELIEVE IT!”

  “Believe it, sweetie.” Beth crossed her arms and leaned against the door frame.

  “I’M NEVER COMING BACK HERE!” Lisa turned toward the back door. She jammed her feet into red open toed shoes with seven centimeter heals. “WHERE’S MY LUGGAGE?”

  “In the taxi,” Beth said.

  “IT BETTER BE!” Lisa yanked at the door, stopped, turned the dead bolt and heaved. The door knob punched a hole in the drywall. Beth was left with a cloud of peach perfume. The front door bell rang.

  Scout barked.

  Beth opened the back door screen just long enough to watch Lisa slam the gate, scuff her heels down the driveway and step up to the side of the taxi. She climbed inside.

  A Chevy Blazer pulled out from behind the V-Channel van.

  The taxi pulled away.

  The Blazer followed.

  A black haired man peered around the side of the garage.

  Beth stepped inside and locked both doors.

  The front doorbell rang again.

  Scout barked.

  “Shit!” Beth moved down the hall to the front door and looked through the peephole. The fish eye face of Ralph Devine peered back at her.

  The phone rang. Beth ran for the kitchen.

  Ernie sat, staring at the TV and holding onto Scout’s collar. “Can’t you get the phone?” Beth said.

  Ernie’s surprise faded into a blank stare. He turned back to the TV.

  Ernie won’t even fight, Beth thought. I wish he would fight back. She picked up the phone, “Hello!?”

  “We’re outside.”

  “Lane?”

  “Yes. We’re ready whenever you are.”

  “Thanks.” The tears started as Beth hung up. She sat at the kitchen table with her hands between her knees and felt her shoulders shake. Something cool and wet touched her hand. She looked down. Scout looked back at her. “Thanks girl.” Beth smiled.

  A hand touched her shoulder. “You okay, Mom?”

  She looked at Ernie then leaned till her head touched him.

  Ernie said, “Don’t worry.”

  The doorbell rang.

  Scout barked and scampered for the front door.

  Beth felt like she might start to laugh and never stop. “We have to go.”

  “Want me to answer the door?” Ernie said.

  “No. Just turn off the TV.”

  A shadow appeared behind the curtains covering the sliding glass door. Knuckles rapped on the glass.

  “Don’t answer it.” Beth looked around the kitchen. She saw her Mother leaning over the sink. Her Mother took a pull on a cigarette. Beth shook away the memories, pushed the chair in and stood to watch the silhouette behind the curtain. “Get Scout and we’ll get in the car.”

  “Come on, girl,” Ernie said.

  Scout bounded into the kitchen and barked at the silhouette. Beth turned to see if the stove was off. She opened the fridge. Empty.

  “Let’s go,” Ernie said.

  Beth walked through the family room to the door of the attached garage. Inside, the light in the belly of the garage door opener cast long shadows. Ernie held Scout’s leash in his left hand. He opened the car’s back door and shut it after Scout jumped inside.

  Beth reached into her pocket for keys.

  The passenger door’s hinge squeaked.

  Beth said, “I forgot my shoes.”

  Someone pounded on the garage door.

  Beth got in and wrapped ten toes over top of the brake pedal. The 25 year old engine coughed and caught.

&n
bsp; Beth said, “Ernie, the garage door opener.”

  He reached, pressed the button. Light flooded inside.

  Beth shifted into reverse. Left hand on the wheel, right hand on the back of the seat, she looked out the rear window. The garage door rose above the height of the trunk.

  Beth eased her foot off the brake.

  Ralph Devine peered under the door. On the other side, the dark-haired man lifted a TV camera to his shoulder.

  “Just a few questions!” Devine said.

  Beth concentrated on driving. The men on either side were shadows in her peripheral vision. A line of shade passed over the car.

  “Shut the garage door,” Beth said.

  The rear bumper scraped pavement as they bounced onto the street. She stepped on the brake, shifted into drive and looked ahead.

  The camera man stepped off the curb and aimed his camera at Beth.

  She turned the wheel to the left. “God I wish this car had power steering.” She eased forward.

  The cameraman stepped back and fell backwards over the curb.

  “I’ll get blamed for that,” Beth said. The engine shuddered, nearly stalling. She curved her toes over the top of the accelerator and pushed gently. The engine smoothed out. They passed the cameraman aiming his lens at Ernie. Scout bared her teeth, barking fog and saliva onto the window.

  The car laboured its way up to 50 kph. In the rear view mirror, Beth saw Ralph Devine following the cameraman as they headed for the van.

  Lane and Harper watched from behind a parked pickup truck. “Looks like we only have to worry about one vehicle,” Lane said.

  Harper grabbed his notebook and flipped to a fresh page.

  Lane pulled out to follow the van. “You still don’t like this.”

  “No.” Harper plucked a pen from his shirt pocket. “Giving a reporter, especially this guy, a ticket doesn’t bother me. It’s the rest of it I don’t like.”

  “Ever been close to a story Devine covered?” Lane matched his speed with the van’s to keep a block between them. Remember, he thought, you know where Beth’s headed, they don’t.

  “Couple of times,” Harper said.

  “Did he ever get at the truth?”

  “Not even close.”

  Lane nodded, “Lots of people in town think he’s great. Think he should run for mayor.” Lane watched the van run a stop sign. “Get that?”

  Harper looked at his watch and wrote down the time. Then he read the street sign as they stopped at the corner. He wrote it down as well. “It’s not about V Channel’s reporting,” Harper said. “So far, we’ve got four deaths. If you’re right, then we’re dealing with five. Our job is to gather evidence and lay charges, not play judge and jury.”

  Lane watched the van pull up behind Beth’s antique Dodge. Overhead, the trees lining Northmount Drive reached to touch one another. “Ever meet a 15 year old who goes into jail and comes out ten years later?”

  “No.”

  Lane tapped his temple with a finger, “Gets out and is still 15 up here.”

  “This kid’s not going to jail. Besides, that’s not our problem.” “Who’s problem is it, then?” Lane said.

  “The court’s.”

  “And if we don’t gather all of the facts, then a decision is made on limited information. At least this way, two more people are going to know what happened. At least, that is, if Randy will tell them what he knows. His relationship with Ernesto obliges him to do that,” Lane said.

  “Or it obliges him to lie and cover up what happened.

  Isn’t the van following a little too close?”

  “Got to be less than a car length.”

  Harper glanced at his watch, noted the street running across Northmount and scribbled in his book. “I still think we should take Randy in for questioning and see what happens.” “He’s expecting that.” Ahead, yellow lights flashed over a pedestrian crossing. A woman with a baby carriage waited on the curb. Beth braked. The V Channel van locked its rear wheels. Blue smoke boiled around the tires. The van slid sideways. Lane smelled burnt rubber. The mother pushed her child across the street. She glared at the driver of the van.

  “Close,” Harper said. He noted time and location. Beth pulled ahead and the van followed. “Questioning Randy can’t hurt.”

  “Randy’s going to turn any interrogator inside out. After that, we’ll get nothing,” Lane said.

  “Then you do the questioning.”

  “He’s already told me as much as he’s going to tell.”

  Harper said, “We got enough on the van?”

  “I think so. Besides we’re getting close to the cemetery. Beth will be getting nervous.”

  Harper radioed information to a blue and white patrol car waiting further along Northmount Drive.

  They stopped at the lights on 14th Street.

  The light turned green. Beth led them through the intersection. Harper pointed at the strip mall on the south side of Northmount. A police cruiser waited in the parking lot.

  “There she is.”

  The blue and white accelerated out of the parking lot. The cruiser’s overhead lights flashed. The siren sounded. Beth pulled over. The V Channel van parked behind her. The cruiser stopped and an officer stepped out, made eye contact with Harper and nodded. Harper nodded back. “We’re gonna owe her big time. The reporter’s gonna give her an earful.”

  “And she’ll enjoy every minute of it. Writing up tickets for reporters was always fun.” Lane passed Beth and she followed. Northmount curved south and out of the V Channel van’s line of sight. Lane turned left up a hill. He looked in the mirror. She was there.

  Beth smiled, recalling the look on the face of the camera man. The moment he realized the police officer was stopping him, the camera man had mouthed one four letter word.

  The air flowing in through her open window made the heat bearable. Beth followed Lane’s grey Chev past a no dogs sign, through the gate to Queen’s Park Cemetery and along the pavement running between two rows of evergreens. The road tipped down into the valley. The Chev’s brake lights came on and Lane pulled to the side of the road. Beth stopped two car lengths behind.

  “I think he wants you to pull alongside,” Ernie said.

  Beth spotted Lane’s left hand waving them ahead. Her nerves tingled. “Damn steering.” She heaved on the wheel and stopped next to the unmarked car. “Thanks for getting rid of the TV crew.”

  Lane jerked his right thumb in his partner’s direction. “He did it.”

  Harper leaned forward and smiled.

  “Randy told me to park over there.” Lane pointed at the oblong concrete structure to the right. “He wants you to follow that road to the left and he’ll meet you in Section J, Block 25.”

  “Section J, Block 25,” Beth said. She released the brake and turned left. Within 100 meters, they spotted a yellow tractor with its bucket scooping earth. The operator sat up top while another man shoveled soil over a fresh grave.

  “What’s Randy look like now?” Ernie said.

  Beth saw that Scout had her chin on Ernie’s right shoulder. The dog licked the breeze with her tongue. “Looks something like one of those guys on the cover of a magazine. You knew him when you were little.”

  Ernie smiled at his Mother’s description of Randy.

  Embarrassment rose up Beth’s neck.

  Gravestones came close to the edge of the road on either side. Ahead, an artillery piece was aimed at the center of town.

  They passed through an intersection and the road curved to the right.

  The slope was dotted with willows whose lazy limbs brushed headstones. Near the graves, peonies sprouted in pinks and reds.

  “Creepy,” Beth said.

  “Kind of pretty,” Ernie said.

  They passed a squat, green vehicle with John Deere and Gator stamped on its sides. A blue cooler sat in the back of the Gator.

  “That him?” Ernie pointed at a man in a red hard hat guiding a weed whacker through the long gr
ass around the base of a tree. Randy looked up. The gas engine slowed to idle and sputtered before stopping. Leaning the weed trimmer against his ribs, Randy pulled at ear plugs.

  Beth stopped. “That’s him.”

  Randy smiled and waved.

  Scout barked.

  Ernie opened his door.

  Scout jumped over the back seat, onto Ernie’s lap and outside. “Scout!” Beth said as she shut off the engine.

  A gopher ran and hopped across the pavement. Scout pounded along behind.

  The gopher disappeared down a hole. Another gopher whistled. Scout raced from one hole to the next.

  Randy strolled closer. “She’s okay. Let her run. Not many people around this time of day.”

  “You sure?” Beth watched the dog stick its nose down a hole.

  “Will she stay close?” Randy said.

  “Always keeps us in sight.”

  “Then, there’s no problem.” Randy moved to the Gator and set the weed trimmer in the back. “Ernie? Help me with this, will you?” Randy grabbed one of the cooler’s handles and waited.

  Ernie grabbed the other handle. They walked across the grass with the cooler between them. Beth followed to a bench speckled by the shade of an elm. I hope this will help Ernie, she thought.

  “Time for lunch,” Randy said. They set the cooler down by the bench.

  “We didn’t come for a picnic,” Beth said.

  “The truth tastes better with good food. Ernesto told me that when I first came here. I thought he was crazy. He found out I wasn’t bringing a lunch, so he brought one for me. He fed me and then he listened when I started to talk. Now it’s my turn to return the favour. You came here to find out what I know and I’ll tell you but it’s important to eat.” Randy lifted the lid of the cooler. “Want a pop?”

  “Sure.” Ernie accepted a can and pulled back the tab.

  “Beth?” Randy said.

  “Please.” She rolled the can’s cool surface across her forehead and sat on the end of the bench.

  “Sandwich?” Randy gave each a cellophane wrapped bun. “Hope you like cheese, lettuce and pastrami.

  “Our last meal?” Beth said.

  “Or your first.” Randy sat down and leaned his back against the trunk of the elm.