Lost Souls

by Seth Patrick

  ‘Not at all. It’s an important aspect of what I do. I like to be hands-on with prospective purchases or research funding. We have a great relationship with universities too. If you want the best people, you have to make them feel welcome. Keep them happy.’

  Bob looked at Ray, who took over. ‘You don’t always make people feel welcome, though. Do you, Blake?’

  ‘I have no idea what you mean,’ said Torrance.

  ‘Take your mind back three weeks,’ said Ray. ‘On the night of the sixteenth. Friday. The victim’s employer, a public relations firm called Manor Williams, threw a party for clients. You were present, yes?’

  Another look to the lawyer; another nod. ‘I was.’

  Ray looked at Bob, who took a picture from a folder in front of him and slid it across the table. It showed Mary Connart, smiling. ‘Do you recognize her?’

  Torrance shook his head. ‘No.’

  ‘This is the victim, Blake,’ said Bob. ‘Mary Connart. We have a witness who states you were speaking with her on the night in question.’

  ‘If I was, I don’t recall it.’ Torrance rubbed at his shoulder. Jonah found his eye creeping back there again and again, seeing nothing; he was beginning to think the dark, formless shape had only been in his imagination.

  ‘The witness states that Mary Connart told you to go to hell,’ said Bob. ‘I’m surprised you don’t remember.’

  The lawyer spoke up. ‘And your witness could identify my client?’

  ‘She already has,’ said Ray. ‘She would identify him in court if necessary.’

  Torrance was starting to look less comfortable. He rubbed at his shoulder again. ‘OK, OK. Now I remember who she was. I made an advance. She declined. That was it.’

  ‘Did the witness overhear the conversation, Detective?’ asked the lawyer.

  Bob smiled at him. ‘As I understand it, your client kept his voice low enough that being overheard was unlikely.’

  The lawyer sat back, looking satisfied.

  ‘However,’ said Bob. ‘Mary Connart heard every word.’

  The lawyer leaned forward again. Blake Torrance glared at Bob then looked at his lawyer, whose face had soured. ‘Revival,’ said Torrance. His lawyer put a fast hand on Torrance’s arm and squeezed to stop him saying more.

  ‘Am I to understand, Detectives,’ said the lawyer, ‘that a revival of Mary Connart has taken place?’

  ‘Oh, I think you know damn well it has,’ said Ray. ‘I’ll bet you’re itching to know what she said.’

  The lawyer smiled. ‘And am I to understand that what was purportedly a private revival was also used to pose questions to the victim relating to the evening of her death?’

  Bob paused before he answered. ‘I’m impressed with how much you already know about a case your client had no involvement with, sir.’

  ‘It’s incumbent on me to ascertain as many facts as possible, sir, when my client’s freedom is at stake. Please don’t confuse competence with guilt.’

  ‘Guilt?’ said Bob. ‘Right now all your client is being accused of is talking to someone.’

  The lawyer took a deep, unhappy breath. ‘This is nonsense. We don’t have to answer any more questions, Blake. Let’s go.’ He stood. Blake Torrance stayed where he was, watching Bob with wary eyes, his hand straying to his shoulder. ‘Blake?’

  Torrance began to stand.

  ‘I’d advise you not to leave,’ said Bob. ‘Unless you want us to arrest you. Right now, you’re just assisting the inquiry. You want to avoid arrest, I suggest you keep assisting.’

  Torrance and his lawyer shared a look and reluctantly took their seats. Torrance muttered: ‘What’s keeping her?’

  ‘Calm, Blake, please,’ said the lawyer. ‘She’ll be here soon.’

  Bob looked at Ray, then back to Torrance, uneasy. ‘Who’ll be here soon?’

  ‘Oh, just moral support,’ said the lawyer. ‘Now believe me, Detective, we have no desire for an arrest. We’ll assist you, within reason. For now. I’m sure my client would appreciate it if you lessened your hostile attitude, perhaps?’

  Bob nodded. ‘Then maybe you could tell us, Blake, exactly what you and Mary spoke of?’

  ‘I don’t remember exactly.’

  ‘Do you have any memory at all of the content of that conversation?’

  ‘It was small talk.’

  ‘Small talk that she took offence at? Enough for her to tell you to go to hell?’

  ‘Sure. It was a party, I’d had a drink. You know what women are like.’

  Bob took his time to share a look with Ray. ‘Oh, I know what this woman was like, Blake. At least, I know what she was like shortly after you spoke to her.’ He reached into his folder and took out a series of photographs, turning them around. Mary Connart’s brutalized corpse, lying in the alley.

  The lawyer visibly flinched, turning away. ‘Dear God, there’s no need for that.’

  Jonah was watching Torrance, watching his eyes. They hadn’t left Bob’s. He hadn’t even glanced down. Bob raised the photograph into Torrance’s line of sight. Torrance looked at it briefly, then his eyes went to the table. ‘I didn’t have anything to do with it,’ he said.

  Bob put the pictures to one side and took a sheet of text from his folder. The transcript of Mary’s revival.

  ‘He said someone’s name,’ Bob read. ‘Winterton. Had I told anyone about Winterton? I didn’t answer. Winterton’s a firm in New York that was trying to headhunt me. I’d been talking about it earlier with a friend and this guy must have overheard. I said it was none of his business. He leaned close and snarled that it was exactly his business, that if I couldn’t keep my mouth shut he’d shut it for me. I told him to go to hell. His eyes were so damn cold.’ Bob looked up. ‘Have you any comment to make?’

  ‘I don’t remember the conversation.’

  But Jonah had seen, and he was sure Bob and Ray had noted it too: Mary’s explanation of why she knew the name, and why she’d been talking about it, had made Torrance’s eyes widen for a moment.

  ‘This is from Connart’s revival?’ asked the lawyer. ‘A private revival?’

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Then it has no place in court, Detective. You know that. Don’t try and bully my client with invention.’

  ‘Invention? These are Mary’s own words.’

  The lawyer shook his head. ‘The standards for court use of non-vocal revival testimony are long established, and—’

  ‘This was recorded,’ said Bob. ‘The standards are high. I have enough experience here, sir, to know that this evidence is entirely valid. And compelling: the revival was vocal.’

  The lawyer opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again.

  ‘And the name?’ said Bob, turning to Torrance once more. ‘Winterton? Surely that means something to you?’

  Torrance shook his head. ‘Nothing.’

  ‘You were the one who said it to her, so it has to mean something. Maybe she misheard you. Maybe it wasn’t Winterton. Have you heard of Winnerden Flats, Blake?’

  Torrance didn’t reply but Jonah could see his eyes widen once more; clearly the man was uneasy. Torrance’s hand went to his shoulder and Jonah felt a sudden cold as he saw it again, the darkness skulking there, roosting almost, but gone in an instant.

  A shadow, thought Jonah.

  Torrance looked at his lawyer, agitated, but the lawyer shook his head.

  ‘That’s an Andreas Biotech site, isn’t it?’ said Bob. ‘Have you had any involvement with that site? Recruitment, maybe?’

  ‘I can’t discuss internal company matters,’ said Torrance, furious.

  ‘We’ll see,’ said Bob. He let Torrance sit in uncomfortable silence.

  There was a brief jingle from the lawyer’s pocket. He produced his phone and glanced at it. His smile returned, broad and gloating. ‘It seems our time with you is over, Detectives.’

  ‘I very much doubt that,’ said Bob.

  ‘Oh, I mean it. My client has an alibi. A good one
.’

  Bob frowned, saying nothing.

  ‘Your moral support?’ said Ray. ‘You’re going to try and wriggle off like that? I’m disappointed. So you left the party with someone who’ll say whatever you pay them to say?’

  Torrance’s face was relaxing, Jonah could see. It didn’t bode well. There was almost a smile there, creeping in at the corners of his mouth.

  ‘Don’t be so uncouth, Detective,’ said the lawyer. ‘My client’s alibi is much simpler than that. You see, he didn’t leave the party at all.’

  20

  Bob and Ray left Torrance with his lawyer in the interrogation room. Jonah stayed by the observation window on his own, watching the pair sit in silence. The lawyer glanced up from time to time at the window, and whenever Torrance started to speak, he told him to keep calm and wait.

  Say nothing, thought Jonah. That was the implication. Say nothing. They may be watching.

  At last, Ray returned.

  ‘What’s happening?’ Jonah asked.

  ‘His alibi checks out,’ said Ray. ‘The woman they were waiting for is a work colleague, present at the same party. She has footage. Stills and video from the night. Enough to force us to let Torrance leave, for now at any rate.’

  ‘She on the level?’

  ‘I think so,’ said Ray. ‘Doesn’t much like Torrance, that’s for sure. Said he was exactly the kind of man who could piss any woman off at short notice. But she has enough footage of him being a dick in public throughout the night to seal it, I think. She says he didn’t leave the party until at least eleven. Crucially, though, between nine-fifty and ten-twenty Torrance was asleep in a chair with a fucking clock on the wall behind him, and she made sure she caught it on camera. She thought it was hilarious, thought it would get him into trouble rather than out of it. Given that Mary’s body was found at ten-thirty, it’s about as good an alibi as he could want.’

  ‘Can we trust the footage?’ said Jonah.

  ‘Pretty sure we can,’ said Ray. ‘I don’t think she’s lying. Doesn’t sound like they’re the best of friends. I think we just have to accept it. Torrance isn’t our man.’

  ‘There’s something about him,’ said Jonah, watching Torrance’s shoulder.

  ‘I know, I would’ve put money on him too, the way he was behaving. He was our big lead, and the only Andreas Biotech link I found. Your hunch just didn’t play out.’

  Through the window they saw Bob enter the interrogation room and break the news to Torrance.

  ‘Thank you, Detective,’ said Torrance. ‘Now maybe I can get back to the office and catch up with the work I was trying to do before the interruption.’

  ‘Detective,’ said the lawyer in farewell. Bob nodded, then looked up to the window and shook his head.

  Ray and Jonah followed Torrance at a distance, seeing a brief exchange between him and a woman: he thanked her, his expression gleeful, hers tolerant, before Torrance and the lawyer left. The woman stayed where she was, and when Bob arrived she stepped towards him.

  ‘Can I have my phone back, Detective?’ she asked. She was in her mid-twenties, and pretty. Jonah could understand why she would have developed a strong dislike for Torrance.

  ‘We have the footage copied off it, I believe,’ said Bob. ‘Maybe a few minutes longer. I’ll send my partner to fetch it. Ray?’

  ‘On it.’

  ‘In the meantime,’ said Bob, ‘we’d like to talk to you before you leave. A few questions about that night. We’ve been contacting as many people as we can for statements.’

  The woman looked annoyed. ‘Detective, I have a date this evening. Bad enough I have to come here and get Blake’s sorry ass out of trouble, but it’s going on for six o’clock.’

  ‘Five minutes. Promise.’ Bob showed her to his desk, and indicated for Jonah to take a seat as well. ‘So, it’s Miss Norwald, right? Can I call you Mia?’ She nodded. ‘You have, shall I say, no love for Mr Torrance?’

  ‘He’s a prick, Detective.’

  ‘What exactly is your relationship?’

  ‘I have to work in the same office as him. My primary role is to do the half of his job he’s incapable of and smooth over the friction he causes from time to time.’

  ‘Your work involves acquisitions, I understand. For Andreas Biotech.’

  ‘Not just that. Our office also deals with interactions between the various Andreas research subsidiaries, and handles some building development. We coordinate a little PR as well. We tend to use the Manor Williams people for most of it, but sometimes we do it ourselves. Well, mainly me.’

  ‘And what exactly does that entail?’

  ‘Not much, maybe a few words with a journalist when an acquisition goes ahead or we want to get interest in something. Showing our faces at conferences, sometimes, especially at universities. We’ll go to give our researchers support. Blake likes to attend as much as possible. He gets a kick out of having his ass licked.’

  ‘Did you see this woman on the night of the party, Mia?’ Bob held up the smiling picture of Mary Connart.

  Mia looked at it and shook her head. ‘Not that I remember. Sorry.’

  ‘And when did you leave the party?’

  ‘Eleven o’clock. Me and another woman from the office. It was starting to wind down by then. Blake was still there when I left, he’d got a second wind.’

  ‘But you’ll stand by what you said, that Blake Torrance was asleep between nine-fifty and ten-twenty, the time of the last footage you recorded?’

  ‘He was. He woke up with a start a little later, but I didn’t catch that on camera.’

  ‘What do you mean?’ Jonah asked. Mia Norwald looked a little alarmed, as if she’d forgotten he was there. ‘He woke up with a start?’

  ‘Ah, you know, he was disoriented. Stood up, glanced around him like he wasn’t sure where he was. He looked like a fucking idiot so I wish I’d caught it on camera, but it was quick and I was laughing too hard. He gave me a hell of a glare when he saw me. Man, he was embarrassed.’

  ‘Do you know what time he woke?’ said Jonah.

  ‘He was sitting under a clock,’ she said with a shrug. ‘It was ten-thirty.’

  Ray came back with Mia Norwald’s phone and they let her go, Ray seeing her out of the station.

  ‘Why did you ask that?’ Bob said to Jonah. ‘About him waking with a start?’

  Jonah shook his head. ‘I don’t know.’ He really wasn’t sure why he’d asked, but there was something nagging him.

  After a minute, Ray returned. ‘All done.’

  ‘I’ll order in some pizza,’ Bob said. ‘Jonah, we’re back to square one here. You should get home. The only thing happening now is paperwork.’

  ‘Don’t worry,’ said Jonah. ‘I’m used to that. You mind if I grab some of that pizza? I’d be better eating before I drive home, and there’s something bothering me I can’t put my finger on.’

  ‘Like?’ said Ray.

  ‘Torrance woke up at ten-thirty. The same time Mary Connart was found. The exact same time.’

  ‘I know,’ said Ray. ‘The moment his alibi wasn’t needed. The story’s a little too neat, right?’

  Jonah nodded, but that hadn’t really been his point. Although what his point actually was, he didn’t know.

  He picked up a newspaper that was on Bob’s desk and read it while the detectives got on with the endless form-filling the day had incurred. He found himself skipping over anything unpleasant, only reading the run-of-the-mill and the vacuous stories, entertainment sections, events. He started on the crossword, and gave up on it when the pizzas arrived.

  As he ate, the only thing in the paper he’d not read was the business section. He started to read it all the same. He stopped suddenly, one paragraph into an article on the challenge of wine-growing in the area. There were interviews with several local producers, but it was one specific word that made him stop, a single word that was also in the headline: Local Wine Producers Hold Conference.

  Conference.
r />   ‘Uh, Ray, can I use a computer? I want to check something.’

  Ray wheeled his chair over to the next desk, which was empty, and logged in for him. ‘Be my guest. Just don’t gamble or watch porn. Our IT guys keep track of that kind of shit and it’s my account you’re using.’ He smiled. ‘What are you after?’

  Jonah shrugged. ‘Just killing time.’ He took position, grabbing a pen from a desk tidy, and starting to write on a blank pad by the keyboard.

  Conferences, too, sometimes, Mia Norwald had said. Especially universities. We’ll attend to give our researchers support.

  It didn’t take long to find. He felt cold as the results came up, and the timings matched.

  ‘Bob,’ he said. ‘Ray.’ They both looked up from their pizzas, the tone in his voice enough for them to know this was serious. ‘You remember what Mia Norwald said about them attending conferences when Andreas Biotech teams were involved?’

  They both nodded, and shared a look.

  ‘There are two specific ones you should hear about. Thirteen weeks ago, a conference on bacteriophages at the University of Colorado, in Denver. Three weeks later, a gene therapy conference at the University of Minnesota in Minneapolis.’ He let the locations and timing sink in.

  Denver, thirteen weeks ago.

  Minneapolis, three weeks later.

  The two previous cases Bob had told him about.

  Bob was staring at him. ‘Jesus Christ. You think he was there?’

  ‘He knows, Bob. There’s not a doubt in my mind, he knows what happened. And maybe more than that. He woke up when Mary Connart was found. The exact same time.’

  ‘His alibi is bullet proof, Jonah. Unless he can be in two places at—’ Bob stopped, looking spooked; Jonah was nodding at him. ‘Shit like that may be hard to get past a judge,’ he said.

  ‘Shit like what?’ said Ray. ‘Are either of you going to come out and say what the fuck you mean?’

  ‘There was something about Torrance,’ said Jonah. ‘There was something with him in the interview room. Something dark. Some kind of shadow.’

  Bob looked at him for a moment, then grabbed his coffee cup and downed the cold remains. ‘Fuck it. Ray, call Mia Norwald. If she can confirm Torrance was at those conferences, we move. Whatever his alibi, if he was in the neighbourhood of two other killings, we have more than enough to justify arresting him.’ He turned to Jonah. ‘We’ll bring him back in, and worry about what the hell we can charge him with later. You coming?’