Harm's Reach

by Alex Barclay

  ‘Did she get here yesterday, do some poking around, come to a conclusion, then call me?’ said Janine. ‘If she was coming to me because of information she had on a case, and the wrong person knew about it …’ She shrugged. ‘But what I don’t understand is how long she’s had this information … like, why would she decide only now to bring it to my attention … when she’s six months pregnant?’

  ‘I know,’ said Ren, ‘it doesn’t make sense.’

  ‘It had to have been something that was, if not more important, certainly as important as her baby. It’s not like my cases are time-sensitive …’

  ‘Unless she suspects someone who hasn’t got long to live …’

  ‘Or she thinks someone is about to destroy evidence …’

  ‘It’s all so strange,’ said Ren.

  ‘There could have been another reason why she was here.’

  ‘Sex, love, money, drugs …’

  ‘Well, we can safely say that sex has taken place,’ said Janine.

  ‘Unsafely …’ said Ren. ‘So, is this a screwed-up love story? Was she running toward a man she loved? Was it the same man as the father of her baby?’

  Kohler came up to them. ‘The Sheriff’s been in touch,’ he said. ‘The news is already filtering out. We need to notify the victim’s employers ASAP.’

  ‘Janine and Ren are going to take care of it, if that works for you,’ said Gary.

  ‘Sure,’ said Kohler. ‘We’re going to take away the burnt-out car from the ranch.’

  Gary nodded.

  ‘So, you’re all done?’ said Kohler.

  ‘Yes,’ said Janine.

  ‘Nothing more to see here,’ said Ren.

  ‘Well, be on your way,’ said Kohler. ‘Do you know where you’re going?’

  ‘I do,’ said Ren.

  ‘See you back at the office,’ said Gary.

  Ren got into Janine’s SUV. ‘I have been chauffeured all day,’ she said. ‘I’m getting to know what it’s like to have a revoked license.’

  ‘It suits you,’ said Janine.

  ‘It doesn’t,’ said Ren. ‘You have no idea how much stress I release while driving.’

  As Janine drove, Ren kept checking her phone for coverage.

  ‘Finally,’ she said, as they hit Highway 285. ‘Let me see what I can get on the Princes.’ She did a Google search. ‘OK – Robert Prince is fifty-five years old and has made rich lists at various times under the “Inherited Wealth” category. He has also publicly dismissed this categorization, because he has also had many business ventures of his own in all kinds of areas … some more successful than others.’

  ‘What kinds of business?’ said Janine.

  ‘You name it, really,’ said Ren. ‘On the personal and political front, Robert Prince is a devout Catholic, attended Harmon’s, a small private Catholic school, is a serious pro-lifer, has made several cash donations to pro-life politicians. In 2005 and 2010, he was up for election as head of the highly influential Order of Catholic Business Leaders of America, but failed in his bid both times. In 2006, Robert Prince, then forty-eight, married former model, Ingrid Frank, Swedish, then twenty-seven, and they moved to a sixteen-million-dollar apartment in SoHo.’

  ‘His first marriage?’ said Janine.

  ‘Yes.’

  ‘Any shenanigans?’

  ‘Nothing that’s gone public.’

  ‘Yet …’ said Janine. ‘Any other heirs to the Prince fortune?’

  ‘No,’ said Ren. She paused. ‘Unless he’s got some children of love tucked away somewhere … which, let’s face it, they always do.’ She paused. ‘Could Laura Flynn have been pregnant with her master’s baby?’

  ‘And he reported her missing to deflect …’ said Janine.

  ‘Wouldn’t anyone assume that an autopsy would include DNA testing of the fetus?’ said Ren.

  ‘You’re assuming that anyone thought that the body would ever be found,’ said Janine.

  ‘You are correct, I was,’ said Ren, ‘which is a rookie assumption. So whoever killed her was interrupted before they could remove the body and dump it? What are we leaning toward …?’

  ‘I don’t like leaning,’ said Janine. ‘Obvious one first: failed carjacking, which we can’t rule out, but is definitely at the bottom of the list, because of the call to me. Alternatives: random shooting. She’s driving along for a pre-arranged meeting with Person A. She pulls into the side of the road. Person B, the shooter, comes up, fires, drives away. Or the victim’s driving along for a pre-arranged meeting with the shooter …’

  ‘Or,’ said Ren, ‘she’s got no plans to meet anyone, the killer flags her down pretending he needs help, she stops, he pulls open the passenger door, she reaches for a gun in the glove box or he reaches for the glove box where maybe she has money …’

  They went quiet.

  ‘What if,’ said Ren, ‘our bandits are driving by and they just shoot, they just want to cause a distraction … they just kill the first person they see …’

  ‘Or they killed her before the robbery,’ said Janine. ‘They had chosen their getaway route; having a body there would stop whoever may have been pursuing them.’

  ‘What if someone else knew about a pre-arranged meeting and killed her?’ said Ren. ‘Someone she knew or someone the other person knew. Was the other person there? Were they shot? Did they witness something?’

  ‘Our guys will be checking local hospitals …’

  ‘There’s also the possibility that our bandits are witnesses …’ said Ren. ‘And they’re not exactly going to be lining up to help.’

  ‘Maybe she was one of them,’ said Janine. ‘Maybe she was to take the cash and go one way, they were to go the other, so if they were pulled over they’d have nothing … she’s home and dry with the money.’

  ‘Maybe,’ said Ren, ‘the word maybe is making my head spin.’

  ‘What if,’ said Janine, ‘she was with someone who turned on her and killed her … someone she knew?’

  ‘“What if” is just another maybe,’ said Ren.

  ‘You should write country songs,’ said Janine.

  ‘I write them in my head all the time,’ said Ren.

  ‘Sorry … back to Robert Prince … inherited wealth … inherited from where?’ said Janine.

  ‘Robert Prince is heir to the Prince family millions … hundreds of millions. He is the son of Acora Prince and Desmond Lamb. His great-grandfather was Patrick “Prince” O’Sullivan, son of Irish emigrants who settled in Butte, Montana, when they fled the potato famine. They had three sons, the most successful of which was Patrick. Patrick got involved in copper mining, met and married his wife in Butte, made lots of money, made even more when he sold the mine. The last name Prince is because … do we need to know this?’

  ‘Yes,’ said Janine. ‘For curiosity’s sake.’

  ‘We both know that curiosity has a record …’ said Ren.

  ‘That’s appalling,’ said Janine.

  ‘OK,’ said Ren, ‘the Prince last name is because the O’Sullivan family looked after the grounds of a castle back in Ireland and the locals used to joke that the O’Sullivan father had ideas above his station and that he thought he was the prince himself. So Patrick, who by all accounts was a great joker, changed his name to Prince when he became a big shot. Patrick’s son, Walter Prince, is Robert’s grandfather.’

  ‘Well, Acora Prince certainly liked the name, seeing as she didn’t change it to her husband’s and didn’t allow her son to either,’ said Janine. ‘Unusual for those times.’

  ‘Rich families are weird,’ said Ren.

  ‘So, there’s an Irish connection,’ said Janine. ‘The Princes. The Flynns. Where in Ireland are they from?’

  ‘The Princes? West Cork.’

  ‘And Laura Flynn’s from?’

  ‘Waterford,’ said Ren. She Googled a map of Ireland. ‘Well, they weren’t neighbors,’ she said, ‘they’re over one hundred and fifty miles apart.’

  8

&n
bsp; Robert and Ingrid Prince’s holiday rental was eight miles south of Golden and designed to make the most of the spectacular view out over the front range.

  ‘It’s like a hotel,’ said Janine. She drove up to the gates.

  ‘It’s like a glass box,’ said Ren.

  Janine pressed the intercom button. A woman answered.

  ‘Hello,’ said Janine, ‘I’m looking for Mrs Ingrid Prince?’

  ‘Yes, speaking.’

  ‘My name is Detective Janine Hooks, I’m from the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office, I’m here with SA Ren Bryce from the Rocky Mountain Safe Streets Task Force in Denver. We’d like to speak with you about Laura Flynn.’

  ‘Laura?’ said Ingrid. ‘Why? What is it? What’s happened?’

  ‘Could we please come through?’ said Janine.

  ‘Yes, I’m sorry, of course,’ said Ingrid.

  The gates swung open. Janine drove in and parked beside a gold Range Rover.

  ‘Do they own this place?’ said Janine.

  ‘No, but they could – that’s the main thing,’ said Ren.

  ‘Yes,’ said Janine. ‘OK, now let’s go hang with a Swedish former model, just in case we were feeling too good about ourselves.’

  Everything about Ingrid Prince’s face said model – everything about her posture, her aura, the movement of her long limbs. She even managed to open the door with grace. She was wearing a floor-length gray strapless jersey dress with an oversized beige cotton cardigan. Her blonde hair was tied up and she had on a gray cotton headband. Her skin was flawless, unlined, glowing.

  ‘Come in, please,’ she said. ‘Take a seat.’

  She gestured to an open-plan living area. There was a magnificent curved stone fireplace with a thick oak beam running the length of the chimney breast and an alcove beside it stacked with logs. On the floor in front lay a pristine rich cream rug. Three brown leather sofas were arranged in the center of the room around a solid, blocky coffee table in the style of a vintage suitcase.

  After a moment’s seating panic, Ren and Janine sat side by side, and Ingrid Prince sat perpendicular.

  ‘Please,’ said Ingrid. ‘Just tell me.’

  Janine leaned forward. ‘I’m afraid we found Laura Flynn’s body this afternoon close to Pike National Forest—’

  ‘Body?’ said Ingrid. ‘Pike National Forest? I’m sorry, I’m not following …’

  Ren shifted forward in her seat. ‘Mrs—’

  ‘And where’s Pike National Forest?’ said Ingrid.

  ‘I’m sorry to tell you that we found Laura about sixty miles south of here,’ said Ren.

  Relief flooded Ingrid Prince’s face. ‘No, that’s not Laura. Laura’s in Chicago. She just didn’t make it back. She must have missed her flight. My husband was just concerned that—’

  ‘Mrs Prince, I’m afraid we have been able to identify her body,’ said Ren. ‘She was the victim of a shooting. Her car was found—’

  ‘No,’ said Ingrid. ‘She wasn’t driving! She was flying, then she was getting a cab, then … a shooting? No. I don’t understand … No.’ She started crying hysterically. ‘No,’ she said. ‘No, please. Please don’t tell me this happened to Laura. Please. Her baby. Her baby. She was pregnant. The baby. Did … did they save the baby?’

  ‘I’m sorry,’ said Ren. ‘I’m afraid that was not possible.’

  Ingrid broke down. She clutched her stomach.

  It was only then that Ren realized that Ingrid Prince had a tiny bump of her own.

  9

  Ingrid Prince followed Ren’s gaze down to her belly. She looked up at her.

  ‘I know … can you believe it?’ she said. ‘Laura finds out she’s pregnant and, two months later, I do.’

  ‘So, you’re four months along?’ said Ren.

  Ingrid nodded. She welled up. ‘This is not right. Poor Laura … the baby … and … I get to …’ She shook her head. ‘I’m still here. My baby’s here. It’s too much.’

  ‘I’m going to make a call to our victim advocate,’ said Janine. ‘She can come stay with you until … are you expecting your husband back tonight?’

  Ingrid nodded. ‘He’ll come back now.’

  ‘OK,’ said Janine. ‘We’ll have someone wait with you, if you think that’s something you’d like?’

  ‘Thank you,’ said Ingrid. ‘Yes.’

  Ren waited until Janine had made the call.

  ‘Was this a robbery?’ said Ingrid. ‘Was anything taken from the car?’

  ‘Her purse was there, her suitcase …’ said Ren. ‘We don’t know what else she may have had with her.’

  ‘And she was just found, alone, in her car …’ said Ingrid.

  ‘Yes,’ said Ren.

  ‘What a horrible way to … I just didn’t think this was going to be … the news I would hear. I was worried about her when she didn’t return, but I was worried because she was pregnant, you know, that she might have taken ill. I thought maybe she had been admitted into hospital. Apart from that, I thought maybe she had met up with the father of her baby … I know the relationship didn’t end well.’

  ‘Do you know his name?’ said Ren.

  ‘I’m sorry, I don’t,’ said Ingrid. ‘Laura mentioned an old boyfriend called Johnny once or twice, but she never gave the name of the baby’s father. She said that she didn’t want anything to do with him. She just said that he was bad news. And, sorry – he’s Irish … that’s the only other thing I know.’

  ‘Did she say where he lived?’ said Ren.

  ‘No,’ said Ingrid.

  ‘But you thought she had met up with him in Chicago?’ said Janine.

  ‘No, no – I thought that maybe he could have known her friend, or followed Laura … or waited with the friend if he had heard Laura was going to visit. I’ve had all day to think these things … but nothing came close to the reality.’

  ‘Does the father of the baby know that she’s pregnant?’ said Janine.

  ‘I don’t know,’ said Ingrid.

  ‘When did Laura tell you she was pregnant?’ said Ren.

  ‘About six weeks ago,’ said Ingrid.

  ‘And did she plan to continue to work for you?’ said Janine.

  ‘Absolutely,’ said Ingrid. ‘Obviously she would be taking some time off, but …’ Her voice cracked and she began to cry again. ‘I’m so sorry,’ she said. ‘I just can’t believe this is happening. The baby, everything, it’s just so sad. Laura’s had a tough time, she was a strong person to come through that, and this is what happens? It’s so wrong.’

  ‘I know,’ said Ren. ‘So, Laura’s baby was due in September …’

  ‘Yes,’ said Ingrid.

  ‘And what was the plan in terms of work?’ said Ren.

  ‘Well – we summer in the Hamptons,’ said Ingrid.

  Summer is not a verb.

  ‘We were happy to hire staff there,’ said Ingrid, ‘and Laura would be back to work when she was ready. This might not sound orthodox, but, as I said, we’re like family.’

  ‘And, speaking of family,’ said Janine, ‘do you have details of Laura’s?’

  ‘That’s another tragic story,’ said Ingrid. ‘Her parents both passed away in Ireland within a few years of each other. Laura was still in college at the time. Laura’s sister, Saoirse, had already moved to New York and Laura followed her over. Within months of Laura arriving, her sister died.’

  ‘How?’ said Ren.

  ‘She was out … partying,’ said Ingrid. ‘It was Laura’s twenty-first. Saoirse fell down some stairs at a bar. She’d been drinking. It was just a freak thing.’

  ‘That’s a lot for Laura to have gone through for such a young woman,’ said Ren. ‘What kind of support did she have?’

  ‘Well, me,’ said Ingrid. ‘And some friends, but not many. She was a sweet, shy kind of girl.’

  ‘And where did she hang out in New York?’ said Ren.

  ‘Different Irish bars,’ said Ingrid. ‘I don’t know which ones. You might find out mo
re on Facebook … I presume you’ll be checking that? But she really hadn’t gone out much in the past few months. She said she just didn’t feel like it. We’d stay in and watch TV, watch movies – if Robert was working late or traveling or out at a function that I wasn’t attending.’

  ‘Can you think of anyone who might have wanted to harm Laura?’

  ‘No … but do you not think this was random?’ said Ingrid.

  ‘We don’t know yet,’ said Ren.

  ‘Mrs Prince,’ said Janine, ‘Laura had a return ticket from Denver to Chicago, but she chose to drive a rental car back.’

  ‘What?’ said Ingrid. ‘I have no idea why she would do that. That’s a long drive … especially if you’re pregnant.’

  ‘Did you speak with her over the weekend?’ said Janine.

  ‘She just called me on Thursday night from Chicago to say that she had arrived safely,’ said Ingrid. ‘And she said she’d see me Sunday. Last night …’

  ‘Were you to pick her up at the airport?’ said Ren.

  ‘No,’ said Ingrid. ‘She was going to get a cab home.’

  ‘What time was she due back?’ said Ren.

  ‘I was expecting her around ten,’ said Ingrid. ‘But I had gone to bed. I was exhausted. I didn’t notice she hadn’t returned until this morning.’

  ‘And where was your husband?’ said Ren.

  ‘Robert’s been in New York for the past five days,’ said Ingrid. ‘He travels back and forth. I spoke with him last night, he asked about Laura. I said … she was late, but I was sure she was fine …’ Her eyes filled with tears. ‘I’m sorry.’

  ‘No need to apologize,’ said Janine. ‘Mrs Prince, can you tell us how long you’ve been staying in Golden?’

  ‘Since November,’ said Ingrid. ‘We were kind of using it as a base for ski season. Loveland is the closest resort to Denver, Golden’s halfway between the two …’

  ‘And now it’s May,’ said Ren. ‘You decided to stay on …’

  Ingrid nodded. ‘I love it here, so does Laura … did Laura. Robert is getting busier and busier …’

  ‘Mrs Prince, was there anything unusual in Laura’s behavior recently?’ said Ren.