Blind Justice

by M A Comley

  “That’s a good thing. I’m sure my innocence will be confirmed soon enough. Do your worst, Inspector. The truth will come out in the end.”

  Lorne turned to Pete. “You carry on in here, and I’ll check the kitchen. Then we’ll both head upstairs, all right?”

  “Yes, boss.”

  Lorne rifled through the drawers in the kitchen, but apart from a quality set of chef’s knives, which she knew hadn’t been used on the victim, she found very little of interest. On the corkboard above one of the worktops, she noticed the scan photo of Baby Killon. A strange feeling washed over her when she remembered how she’d felt when expecting Charlie. She’d had mixed days. Some were good, where she loved the feel of another human being growing and moving inside her. Then there were the bad days, when she’d spent most of the early months of her pregnancy being sick over the toilet, even at work. Maybe that’s why she never even considered having a second child. She was fed up with people saying that women forget all the bad times they go through. Lorne was sure the bad times were imprinted in her mind, and that they would remain there as a piercing reminder. She wished the Killons well with the birth of their child. They appear to be a nice couple, and it would be good to see Simon Killon remain a free man.

  Pete joined her about fifteen minutes into the task. “Anything?”

  Lorne shook her head. “Nope, I had a feeling we were wasting our time,” she said, her voice low so the Killons couldn’t hear them talking. “Let’s move upstairs. I think that’ll prove to be just as unsuccessful, though.”

  “Do you think it’s too cheeky if we ask for a coffee?”

  “Yes, I do.” Lorne turned her partner by the shoulders and pushed him out of the room just as Tammy Killon was coming through the door.

  “Oops, sorry to get in the way. I wondered if you’d both like a drink?”

  Pete grinned at Lorne.

  “Thanks, Tammy,” he said. “Two coffees, if you don’t mind. Both with milk, and one with sugar.” Pete’s grin turned into a grimace.

  Lorne tried to cut down his sugar intake wherever possible, and she knew how much it ticked him off.

  “Is everything going well?”

  “It all seems to be working in Simon’s favour so far, yes. We’ll have our drink then move upstairs, if that’s okay with you.”

  Tammy filled the mugs with hot water and stirred the drinks. “Of course. Join us in the lounge. We’ve completed the lists. I don’t think we’ve forgotten anything.”

  Lorne and Pete followed Mrs. Killon into the lounge, and they all sat down.

  “I forgot to ask if the person carrying out the damage ever contacted you by e-mail,” Lorne said.

  Simon clicked his fingers together, and his eyes widened. “Crap, I forgot all about that. I’ve left my laptop at work and the PC is playing up at the moment. I’m sure I saved the e-mails in my personal folder.”

  “That’s no problem. When you can get to your computer, will you print the e-mails for me?”

  “Of course. How stupid of me to forget about them.” He handed Lorne both lists.

  Lorne studied them while drinking her coffee. Someone clearly had a grudge against Simon. All the damage appeared to have been done to his personal possessions. “And you’ve managed to escape this troubled person’s animosity up until now, Tammy? Or can you add to the list anything that’s been aimed at you?”

  “No. I think everything has been directed at my husband. I suppose the car can be classed as being joint ownership.” Tammy held Lorne’s gaze for a moment longer then took a sip from her mug.

  “Which leads me to think that it might be an ex-client of yours, Simon. Someone with a grudge, maybe? Can you remember what was said in the e-mail?”

  “It was quite short. A type of watch-your-back kind of thing.”

  “As soon as you can get that to me, the quicker we can look into it. I’ll get in touch with the station before we start upstairs. My colleagues can begin looking into people’s backgrounds and records to see if anything crops up.” Lorne left the house to place the call.

  Once she’d tasked AJ with the background searches, Lorne stepped back into the house and asked Pete to join her upstairs to continue their work.

  In the master bedroom, Pete closed the door behind them. “All right, I’m holding my hands up. Maybe your gut instinct on this is spot on—they do seem a nice couple. Willing to co-operate with the search, et cetera. What’s your take on the damage?”

  “Well, if Jenny had a boyfriend, I would be pointing the finger at him. As she was single, who’s to say what’s going on? I’m really at a loss here. Which side do you want?”

  “I’ll take the bedside cabinets. You know how much I hate going through people’s clothes.”

  Lorne tutted and opened the door to the first double wardrobe, which turned out to be Simon’s. She searched every pocket. Finding nothing of interest, she moved on to Tammy’s wardrobe. Her eyes almost dropped out of her head when she saw how many clothes the woman owned. “Goodness me, this woman must have half of M&S in here.”

  Pete grunted and tipped a bedside drawer onto the bed.

  Lorne again looked through every pocket she could find—if Simon was guilty, he might have hidden something in his wife’s clothing rather than his own. Again, she found nothing. She collected the bedroom stool from the dressing table and positioned it close to the wardrobe so she could reach the highest shelf. She came up empty-handed once again. Frustrated, she got down on her hands and knees and rummaged between the woman’s shoes. Her hand touched a silky garment wedged between a couple of shoeboxes at the rear. “Psst…‌Pete, over here.”

  With her gloved hand, she pulled out the piece of cloth and held it up.

  Her partner let out a whistle. “Same colours, do you think?”

  “As the fibres found around Jenny’s neck? Yep, I think so. Hand me an evidence bag.”

  Pete rushed back to the bed to fetch one. He held it open, but before Lorne dropped the garment in the bag, she took a closer look at the material. She angled it to show Pete.

  “Is that blood?”

  He nodded. “Yep, I think it is. Do you want to arrest him or get it checked out with forensics first?”

  “Damn, he seems so nice. Can I really be that wrong about him, Pete?”

  “You’re bound to have your off days, boss.”

  Lorne sighed and stood up. She sealed the bag and reluctantly made her way downstairs to the couple. “I have to take this as evidence.”

  Puzzled, Simon asked, “What is it? Should I be worried?”

  “It’s your wife’s scarf, Mr. Killon. We’ll get it analysed and go from there. I’ll have to ask you to accompany me to the station.”

  Tammy jumped to her feet and stood in front of her still-seated husband. “You can’t take him.” She placed a hand over her stomach. “For our baby’s sake, I’m begging you not to do this.” Tears trickled from her eyes.

  “I’m sorry, Mrs. Killon. Please try not to get too upset. I can’t leave your husband roaming the streets if there is the merest doubt of guilt in my mind. I have to say this looks like pretty damning evidence we’ve just found.”

  The woman glared at Lorne. “What will happen now?”

  “Simon will be interviewed and held in custody. The more truthful he is during the interview process, the quicker this case will be resolved.”

  Tammy swung around, threw herself on her husband’s lap, and clung to him. “I won’t let you take him. He’s done nothing wrong. That bitch des…”

  Lorne tilted her head. “Mrs. Killon? Please don’t stop there.”

  Simon unhooked his wife’s arms and leaned back so he could look at his wife’s face. “Tammy? What are you saying? That Jenny deserved to die?”

  “No. Yes. I don’t know—I’m confused. Pregnant women are prone to confusion, aren’t they, Inspector?”

  Lorne shook her head. “Not as far as I know, Mrs. Killon. Maybe you should both accompany us to the station
for questioning.”

  Tammy flew off her husband’s lap. “I’m not going anywhere. You can’t make me. I have my baby to consider.” Suddenly, the woman bent double and cried out. “Ahh, my baby…‌my baby.”

  “Pete, ring for an ambulance, quickly.” Lorne sprang to the woman’s aid and helped her to her seat. “Take it easy now. What did I say about upsetting the baby?”

  “Don’t take Simon. Please let him come to the hospital with me?”

  “I’m sorry. That’s not going to happen, Tammy. We’ll get you to the hospital, make you comfortable, and then continue on our journey. I can’t be any fairer than that, okay?”

  Tammy sniffled as fresh tears streamed down her face. Is that tears for her husband or because she fears she’s losing the baby? Either way, Lorne knew she had a job to carry out. Her priority had to remain finding Jenny’s murderer.

  CHAPTER TEN

  With Tammy settled in the women’s ward at the local hospital, Lorne instructed Simon to say farewell to his wife. Then Lorne and Pete escorted Simon to the car.

  “Okay, this is what we’re going to do next. Now Tammy is in safe hands and the baby is no longer in danger, I want to drop by your firm and pick up your laptop. We’ll then deposit it at the pathologist’s lab, along with your wife’s scarf. After that, we’ll head back to the station to begin our interview.”

  “All right. If I co-operate fully, will I be released later to be with my wife?”

  “I’m hoping so, Simon.”

  The cuffed man let out a relieved sigh in the backseat. “How has it come to this? All I’m guilty of is loving Jenny. I would never harm a hair on her head.”

  “Then you have nothing to worry about, Simon. Let’s hope the evidence we gathered will prove your innocence.”

  Lorne drew up outside the pathology department and left Pete in the car with Simon.

  “Dr. Arnaud, stop.”

  Arnaud, dressed in his examination greens, halted just outside his theatre as he was about to enter. “Inspector, I have a busy schedule. You cannot keep turning up out of the blue like this.”

  “I know. I apologise, but we’ve uncovered valuable evidence in the Bartlett case, and I wondered if you would hurry the test results through for me?”

  He pushed open the examination room door. “Bones, I’ll be delayed for five minutes,” he told his assistant, whose surname was unfortunate, given his occupation. “Come with me. What do you have?”

  Struggling to keep up with him, Lorne held out the bag. “The fibres of the fabric you found in Jenny’s neck wound—I’d like you to see if they match this scarf. I also have the main suspect’s laptop. He’s complaining, thinks he’s been set up. He says he’s been receiving dodgy e-mails lately, and he gave me a list of damage someone has carried out to his possessions and property.”

  “Here.” Arnaud stopped abruptly and opened a door. A different assistant was sitting at a desk, inspecting what looked like a shoe print and comparing it to images on his computer screen. “Chris, leave that and help the inspector out, please.”

  “Sure. What do you need?”

  Lorne gave the evidence bag to the forensic technician. “This scarf belongs to the main suspect’s wife. I can see specks of blood on it. Can you see if the fibres match what Dr. Arnaud found on Jenny Bartlett’s neck?”

  “Let’s see.” He located Jenny’s file in his in-tray, then he snapped on a clean pair of latex gloves. “Hmm…‌okay. Well, I don’t have to run many tests on it, as I can tell right away that it’s a match.”

  Lorne glanced at Arnaud.

  “I concur. But do the test anyway, Chris. Let’s make it official. Then take a look at the computer, specifically the incoming e-mails. Let’s not pull the guilty card on the suspect too soon,” Arnaud ordered his associate.

  At that moment, Lorne’s heart hung heavy. “Damn, on the fibres, I thought he was innocent. I have the man in the car, just taking him to the station now to start questioning. When do you think you’ll have the official results for me?”

  Arnaud nodded and smiled briefly. “Give us a couple of hours, and we’ll ring you when the results are in.”

  “Thank you. I’ll leave you to it. Speak to you later.” Lorne trudged back up the hallway and out to the car. Pete eyed her warily. He knows the evidence is looking like Simon is guilty! “Okay, let’s get back to the station.” Her tone sounded cavalier. However, in reality, her insides were squeezing the life out of her.

  After arranging a PC to sit with Killon, Lorne took Pete aside and apprised him of the situation.

  “So, you have to arrest him.”

  “Not yet, Pete. We have to wait for the results to come back first.”

  “I know you think he’s still innocent, but if the proof is being waved in front of your face, you have to change your opinion about him.”

  Lorne slumped against the wall. “That’s just it—I can’t. Don’t you think I’ve told myself that a thousand times already?”

  The big man shrugged. “Get over it. He’s more devious than you thought he was, end of.”

  “Maybe.” Pushing herself upright, she added, “I’m more interested in what forensics find on his computer than the fibres, although I shouldn’t be, I know.”

  “I don’t get it. The way you’re talking is as if someone’s planted the evidence.”

  “How do we know they haven’t?” Lorne replied sharply.

  “Doh, if the evidence didn’t happen to be his wife’s scarf, then maybe I could see where you’re coming from. With respect, boss, you need to start thinking more clearly about the case.”

  “Thank you for that, Sergeant. I’ll bear it in mind. Now go and sort out some coffee for us, will you?”

  She knew her partner had a point, but she just couldn’t shift her niggling doubt. Lorne opened the door to the interview room, where her dejected suspect sat with his head buried in his hands. “This will all be over soon enough, Mr. Killon.”

  He looked at her with tears swimming in his eyes. “I hope so, Inspector. I’d like to get back to the hospital to be by my wife’s side as soon as possible. She needs me.”

  “She does indeed, which is why it’s really important for you to tell us the truth here today.”

  “Believe me, I intend to.”

  Pete entered the room and placed the three cups of coffee on the table. Lorne put a tape in the machine, said the usual blurb—date, time, and who was present during the interview—then began questioning the suspect.

  “How did you and Jenny Bartlett meet?”

  “At work. She joined the firm not long after I did.”

  “So you’ve known the victim for some time then?” Lorne noted the way Simon flinched when he heard Jenny referred to as the victim.

  “Yes, about seven years.”

  “And you started dating around that time. Is that right?”

  “Yes. Jenny and I just clicked from day one.”

  “And how would you describe your relationship?”

  “The longer our relationship went on, I suppose you could say that Jenny and I became more like brother and sister than lovers.”

  “I see. If that was the case, then why did you try and rekindle that relationship six months ago when you fell out with your wife?”

  Simon shook his head as he thought. “It seemed a good idea at the time. We got on so well together, maybe it was a case of going back to something comfortable. She was one of the kindest and most genuine people I’ve ever had the pleasure of knowing.”

  “See? That’s where I have a problem with you ending your relationship. If, like you say, you found Jenny to be a special person, isn’t that all we crave in this life? To meet someone special?”

  “It is. You’re right, Inspector, and believe me when I say it tore me apart when our relationship fizzled out. Are any of us truly happy in our relationships?”

  His question made her think about the state of her own marriage, which was a borderline disaster at present. She pushed
her own marriage difficulties aside and continued with her questions. “So, you’re telling me that you have problems with commitment. Is that the case, Mr. Killon?”

  “Not exactly, no.”

  “But you broke up with your present wife a little while back, too. Why was that?”

  Simon’s gaze dropped to his hands, wringing on the table in front of him. “Tammy has issues.”

  This piqued Lorne’s interest. “Go on. What kind of issues does your pregnant wife have?”

  “She has always been envious of my relationship with Jenny. The fact that we get on well together, at least we did before she was murdered. Tammy found it incredible that someone could remain friends with a former lover without something sexual going on.”

  A lightbulb flickered on in Lorne’s mind. “So Tammy must have been livid when she heard that you and Jenny had tried to get back together again?”

  “She was. However, once I explained that I didn’t love Jenny anymore and that I wanted to give our marriage another shot, she was fine about things.”

  Was she really? Maybe on the surface she was fine. Lorne thought back to Mrs. Killon’s little outburst at the house that morning, when she’d called Jenny a bitch. “I have to leave the room for a moment. Interview suspended at eleven forty-five a.m. Can I see you outside, Sergeant?”

  Pete joined Lorne in the corridor. She started pacing the tiny area, agitated.

  “What’s up?”

  “We’ve got the wrong suspect, Pete. I think Tammy is the one we should be questioning.”

  “Huh? You’re crazy. Why would she kill his ex?”

  “He keeps running back to Jenny when things go wrong between husband and wife. I’m going to ring the hospital.”

  “Why? She nearly had a miscarriage, for Christ’s sake, Lorne.”

  Lorne raised an eyebrow and crossed her arms. “Did she, Pete? She gets rushed into hospital, and within the hour, she’s sitting up in bed on a ward. Does it really happen like that? Not in my book. I should have realised that at the time. It was a hoax just to make us go easy on Simon.”