Negative Image

by Vicki Delany

  “I’ll be at work tomorrow, and I can do it then, if you don’t mind waiting a day. I probably don’t have to talk to them personally, a phone call should do it. Do you think we’re onto something?”

  “I’ve been trying and trying to come up with what these victims all have in common. So far nothing. This might be a stretch, but it’s worth a couple of phone calls. Don’t worry about it, I’ll call them myself later. You just worry about your dad.”

  “Dog day care,” she said, stretching the words out as if she were tasting them. “I know someone who works at such a place.”

  “Give me their address and I’ll go around.”

  “No,” she said. “That wouldn’t work. I don’t mean you can’t do it, I mean it’s a special case.” She explained quickly about Amy and her new job. “Amy knows me, and I think she likes me. She might not open up to you.”

  She looked at her watch. “I’ll stay with Mom until Dad’s out of surgery and back in his room, and then pay Amy a visit.”

  ***

  “Dennis Jones owes a hundred thousand dollars to credit cards and his bank. I’d guess he probably owes a lot more to sources I haven’t found yet. He’s a maintenance man at a hotel, not much money in that. His long-lost brother arrives in town, flashing the cash, the trophy wife, the assistant. There was already a lot of bad blood between the brothers. Jones was seen on that floor around five o’clock. He says he was replacing a broken lamp, which may or may not be true, but it’s good odds he dropped in on his brother at the same time. Rudy refused to give him money, they had an argument, Jones stews about it for a couple of hours and comes back later to continue the fight. Steiner won’t give in, Jones looses it, and pop. Jones wears baggy workingman’s overalls and carries a belt load of equipment on him. Easy enough to hide a handgun. You don’t have to go out of Canada to buy a gun, you know. They’re available right here if you know where to look, and Jones is likely to know where to look.”

  “You’re still forgetting about the sneaking up from behind part,” Kevin Farzaneh said. “First, let me say I’ve seen Molly Smith and Winters together and if they’re doing the dirty, I’ll…” he touched his shiny dome, “eat my hair.” They all, except Madison, laughed. The laughter was tight and forced, nothing but relief at the chance to momentarily break the tension.

  Keller looked at Barb. She tried to read his mind, but couldn’t. She gave him what she hoped was a supporting smile. He didn’t smile back, but perhaps some of the strain lifted from his face.

  “Go on,” he said to Farzaneh.

  “The mob angle. How we can sit here and not even mention that there is a known mobster in town, who happens to be staying at the same hotel in which the murder was committed, where the wife is still staying, I can’t imagine.”

  “This is the first I’ve heard of this,” Keller said. “I’ve read the report about Mrs. Steiner’s father, and I know her father’s lawyer came to town poste haste. Are you saying someone else from Marais’ organization is here?”

  “That’s what I’m saying, saw him myself. What’s this about Mrs. Steiner’s father? You’re saying he’s a made man?” Farzaneh turned to Madison. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

  “Because you didn’t need to know. You’re here to help with the forensics.”

  “Mrs. Steiner’s father is Guy Marais,” Keller said.

  “What the hell? You know I worked organized crime in New Brunswick. You didn’t think I might have something to contribute to this?” Farzaneh threw up his hands.

  “That’s neither here nor there,” Keller said. “I’ll let you sort out the lines of communication. Kevin’s right. We have a known criminal connection. The long arm of Mrs. Steiner’s father. Why aren’t we paying a lot more attention to that?”

  “Or to Mrs. Steiner.” Alison Townshend spoke for the first time. “Rather than gossiping about who might be fooling around with who.” She threw Madison a poisonous look. He didn’t react. “Let’s talk about who was definitely fooling around. Josie Steiner was married to a much older guy who’s about to kick the bucket. She has criminal connections, no problem at all about getting a weapon, she probably found a new one in her Christmas stocking every year. The marriage was odd, to say the least, perhaps she decided to get out of it the easy way.

  “What’s her story for the time he died?”

  “Not much,” Lopez said. “That lawyer watches over her like a mother lion. She says what he allows her to say, and that’s that she left Steiner’s room around seven after looking at the day’s photographs, and was alone in her own room, having a glass of wine, with the TV on loud, for the rest of the evening. Not much of an alibi. Room service records show she orders a bottle of wine, sometimes two, every night. The bottles are empty when picked up in the morning.”

  “She, above all the people previously mentioned,” Townshend said with a satisfied nod, “would be able to walk up behind her husband upchucking into the toilet. I think that’s one of the things they cover in the for better or for worse part of the marriage vows.”

  ***

  They agreed Winters would head back to the office and find out if the homeowners all used the same facility for their dogs. Molly would go around to Amy’s later, unofficially, and talk to her about the day care.

  “Anything I can do?” Adam asked.

  “You could send Norman into the joint, undercover.”

  “He could sniff around, smell out the word on the street.”

  They smiled at each other, in a way that made Winters feel as if he wasn’t in the room.

  Winters wanted to find Madison and smack some sense into the creep. It wasn’t easy, he knew, for women to get accepted in this job. It was in many ways still an old boy’s club. Molly shouldn’t have had to fear that reporting Charlie Bassing’s harassment would make her colleagues think any the less of her. Whether or not it would have didn’t really matter as long as she thought it would.

  The last thing she needed were rumors, no matter how ill-founded, that she was aiming for promotion by sleeping with her superior officer.

  “I’ll say good-bye to your mom,” he said. “And as for that matter we talked about yesterday, I’ll be doing something about it this afternoon.”

  “Thanks.”

  “What matter?” Tocek asked.

  “Nothing,” Smith and Winters said in unison.

  Tocek didn’t look convinced.

  “Anything?” Smith asked her mother when they walked into the waiting room.

  “Not a peep,” Lucky said.

  “I’m going into work,” Winters said. “If you need anything, be sure to call.”

  “Thank you.”

  The door opened and a man walked in. He was dressed in blue scrubs too long for his short legs. A woman followed him, wearing a nice business suit.

  The man approached Lucky. He had coke-bottle-bottom glasses propped on the top of his head, and smelled of the human body. The woman with him had deep, serious eyes, and she was not smiling.

  Lucky got to her feet, a bit shakily, her eyes round as she tried to read their faces. Jane Reynolds put down her knitting. Molly and her brother stood on either side of their mom. She was so short, and looked so frail, between them.

  Adam Tocek and John Winters glanced at each other. They’d given the bad news many times, to many families. They knew that expression, the look in the eyes.

  “Mrs. Smith,” the doctor said. “I am so very sorry to have to tell you this, but Mr. Smith did not survive the procedure.”

  “What?” Lucky said as all the color drained from her face.

  The woman, almost certainly a grief councilor, stepped forward. “Why don’t you sit down, Mrs. Smith.”

  “I don’t want to sit down. Is the operation over? Is Andy in the recovery room? When will he wake up?”

  Adam Tocek said, “What do you mean, he didn’t survive? It was a goddamned hip operation. My eighty-six year old grandmother had one and is the champion of her lawn bowling team.�
��

  “Mr. Smith suffered a pulmonary embolus, a blood clot in his leg. It can be difficult to detect and…well…when he was moved to the table it broke away and quickly moved to his heart. He went into shock, and…I’m sorry, Mrs. Smith, but despite all our efforts we were unable to get his heart working again.”

  Lucky swayed. Sam Smith put his arm around his mother. “Come on, Mom,” he said. “Let’s sit down.”

  Jane Reynolds’ knitting needles were still in her hand. The wool had fallen to the floor. Tears ran down her cheeks.

  “Dad?” Molly said, her voice catching in her throat. “Where’s my dad?”

  The doctor turned to her. “I’m sorry, Miss Smith. Your father didn’t survive.”

  She moaned, a long plaintive wail. Adam Tocek wrapped her in his arms.

  Chapter Twenty-five

  “It seems to me,” Paul Keller said, “we have a plethora of suspects here. Good suspects, not gut feelings or grudge matches.”

  Madison sat there with a sly smile on his face. He’s a weird one, Barb thought.

  “Now,” Keller went on, “as much as this is an IHIT investigation, I do believe the first ‘I’ means integrated, as in working together, is that correct?”

  Madison continued to smile. Finally Kevin Farzaneh said, “yes it does.”

  “This is my town,” Keller said, “and once you’ve gone, with or without making an arrest, back to your regular jobs, I have to live here, I have to police here, and I have a department to run. Therefore, I have a few suggestions to make to the team. Good work Ray on digging up Jones’ financials. Keep digging and let him know you’re digging. Might shake him up a bit. The mob angle is good, very promising. As you seem to know about these people, Corporal Farzaneh, perhaps you could find out if the muscle was in town last week. And as for Mrs. Steiner, seems to me that in my days as a detective we always considered the spouse first. Are we finished here?” He looked around the room. Everyone was nodding except for Dick Madison. “Good. John Winters is still my lead detective in everything other than the Steiner murder. If that changes, I expect to know about it first. His wife will not be detained in order to force him to confess. Just a suggestion, of course.”

  “Of course,” Madison said.

  Everyone began to stand up.

  “Team work,” Madison said. He remained sitting, his legs stretched out in front of him. “It’s all about team work. Shake things up, throw out a ridiculous idea, and you find people can quickly put their minds to coming up with a better one.” He stood up. “Alison, get back to the lab. We’ve a lot more tests to run. Kevin, check into Langois’ movements. Gavin, I need a lift to the Hudson House Hotel. I’m going to have another chat with Mrs. Steiner.” He left, without saying good bye.

  The others followed. Ray Lopez and Ron Gavin gave each other confused looks. Farzaneh kept his eyes on the floor. Barb closed her computer and unplugged it.

  “Shut the door, will you,” Keller said.

  She did so.

  “What a crock.” He tore the tab off a can of pop.

  “You don’t think he mentioned John and Eliza in order to get people thinking?”

  “If he did, it’s about the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard. The guy’s a loose cannon, couldn’t admit he was making a mistake when all the other suspects came up, so pretended he was stringing us along. I’m going to have to mention it to his commander. I’ll make sure they know I don’t ever want that jackass back in my town.”

  “Will they listen to you?”

  “Probably not.”

  The phone on his desk rang. “Well that was fun, back to work.” He picked up the phone, listened for a moment, and said, “Thanks for letting me know.”

  He placed the phone in the cradle carefully and took a deep breath. When he looked at Barb his eyes were round and sad.

  “What?”

  “That was John. He’s at the hospital. Andy Smith died on the operating table.”

  ***

  John Winters didn’t stay long. Lucky had her friend and her children; Molly had Adam. He wasn’t needed.

  Ray Lopez was in the office when he came in. “I heard about Molly’s dad,” Lopez said. “Darn tough.”

  “Fifty-seven,” Winters said, tossing his jacket onto the hook by the door. “Too damned young. It came out of nowhere, was supposed to be a routine operation.”

  “Barb’s taking up a collection for flowers. The department will send something, but Barb likes the personal touch.”

  “Good old Barb. I can’t imagine they pay her enough.”

  Lopez stood up. He shut the office door, and turned to stand with his back to it. “I have to tell you something. The guy’s out to get you, John.”

  Winters didn’t have to ask Lopez who he was talking about. “Yeah, I figured that. I’ve never met him before, never heard of him until last week. I’ve no idea what he’s thinking.”

  “You’re not the only one in his sights.”

  “Molly?”

  “Yes.”

  “Is anyone buying what he’s selling? I don’t mean about me, I can handle it. Her? Not so well.”

  “The Chief almost threw Madison out of his office, and I thought Barb was going to hit him over the head with her computer. You know as well as I do that most people in this department like Molly. She’s a nice person and a good officer. But there are always some…”

  “I know.”

  “I hate to say every cloud has a silver lining, but with the death of her dad happening so suddenly no one will want to be seen bad-mouthing her.”

  “What are you working on?” Winters changed the subject.

  “If I was allowed to, I’d tell you I’m about to have a chat with Dennis Jones, who turns out to be the estranged brother of Rudolph Steiner, nee Albert Jones, and that I’m gathering details of his precarious financial situation so he knows I know he’s in a ton of trouble. Unfortunately I can’t tell you that right now Jones is the number one suspect, but only one of several, so I won’t.”

  Winters grinned. “Thanks, Ray. I’ve got a few calls to make about the B&E business.”

  “I’d forgotten all about that. You have a lead?”

  “I hope so.”

  They returned to their computers.

  A few minutes later Lopez got up and left, presumably to visit Jones. Winters began calling B&E victims at their places of work. Only one wasn’t available, but the others told the same story. They took their dogs to Debby’s Dog Centre Monday to Friday during the day while they were at work. It was much better, they all said, for the dog to be exercised and in a social environment than sitting at home alone, lonely and bored.

  He leaned back in his chair and thought about his next move. He’d find out what he could about Debby, whoever she was, do a record check, see if she’d ever been in any trouble. Presumably she had some staff, even if just someone to keep the books, and a partner, or friends with whom she chatted about her business. Chat about things like who wasn’t going to be coming for a couple of weeks because they were going on vacation. Molly had mentioned Amy worked there part-time. He’d met Amy once; unlikely she had the organizational skills to pull off a series of B&Es.

  Molly had been planning to drop in on Amy, ask a few questions about the running of the dog care business. He couldn’t ask her to do it now.

  He had something else to do first. He picked up the phone. “Jim, is Dawn back yet?”

  “She’s waiting for you.”

  Dawn Solway was standing by the dispatch desk when Winters got there. He’d checked earlier to see who was on shift this afternoon. Solway and Brad Noseworthy. For this job, he wanted the woman. He explained what they were after.

  “Once we get in hearing range, I want lights and sirens. The whole shebang. We’re going in like gang busters. I want the handcuffs on before he can blink.”

  “It’ll be my pleasure,” she said.

  “The bigger the audience the better. I’ll say the words, then you stuff him in t
he car. Lights and sirens all the way back to the station. Let’s go.”

  “Tough about Molly’s dad,” Solway said, pulling into Monroe Street. They were heading for the garden center on the other side of the Upper Kootenay River. It was still only early April, but landscaping businesses were busy getting stock in, preparing for the spring rush soon to begin. Lots of heavy lifting to be done, bags of compost, mulch, potting soil, trees with roots wrapped in burlap bags, crates of seedlings and small plants. Good work for a man with muscle but not much else.

  As they crossed the bridge, Solway began the sound and light show. She took the corner into the side street on two wheels. By the time they got to the parking lot, and pulled up in a shower of gravel, people had stopped work to see what was going on.

  Charlie Bassing was driving a forklift, moving a couple of baby maple trees. His white T-shirt was filthy with sweat and soil and his baseball hat pushed to the back of his head.

  Winters marched up to the forklift, Solway behind. “Charles Bassing,” he said, in a good loud voice. “Get down from there. I’m arresting you on a charge of criminal harassment.”

  “What the fuck?”

  “Climb down, or I will bring you down. Now.”

  The moment Bassing’s feet were on the ground, Solway moved in. She pulled his arms behind him and snapped the handcuffs on. She took hold of his arm and marched him to the car.

  “Hey,” Bassing shouted, trying to twist in the woman’s iron grip, “I didn’t do nothing.”

  “You will have the opportunity to tell that to a judge,” Winters said. “You have the right…” he followed, reciting the warning. Solway pushed Bassing into the back seat of the car, her hand on the top of his head. The two officers got in the front and she drove away, siren shattering the peace of the spring air. Bassing began to swear. Solway turned her head slightly, and Winters winked.

  The whole thing had taken less than two minutes. He’d been particularly satisfied at the looks of open-mouthed astonishment on the faces of the onlookers.

  ***

  By the time they got home, to the house in the woods at a bend in a tributary of the Upper Kootenay River, Lucky’s legions of friends had gathered. Tea and coffee were made, cookies and squares laid out on plates in the center of the wide, heavily-scarred pine table. A pot of fragrant stew bubbled on the stove, and the dog’s food and water dishes were full.