by Gina Amos
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Otto’s bar was a dive but it was a quiet place to hang out. The patrons were mainly cops or staffers from the morgue. It was on the seedy side of town, but its patrons were used to seedy. Ashleigh pushed open the front door and looked around for Nick Rimis. Tony was here tonight playing the alto sax. Soft, soulful blues. His playing cried out to her, seduced her and suddenly she felt like crying with the loss and regret that she heard in those low notes
The bar tender was Tony’s brother and he was serving tequila shots to a grey faced man who looked like he needed a friend to talk to tonight. Nick Rimis was propped up at the bar. He had his back turned away from the grey faced man and was talking to someone Ashleigh assumed was also a detective. He had that look about him, the crumpled, cheap suit he was wearing didn’t sit comfortably on him, his tie had worked its way loose and the sign of a five o’clock shadow was forming on his crooked face.
Ashleigh walked up to Rimis and tapped him lightly on the shoulder. ‘Buy a girl a drink?’ she said.
He spun around, stood up and pecked her lightly on each cheek, the way Europeans do. ‘What are ya having, Ash?’
‘Make it a white wine, something cold and dry will do.’ She looked at the guy who’d been talking to Rimis when she came through the door.
‘I’m Colin. I work with this guy,’ he pointed at Rimis with his thumb and laughed. He took Ashleigh’s hand in his, shook it hard and gave her the once over. He dipped his thick, pudgy fingers into the plastic bowl of mixed nuts which were sitting on the bar. Ashleigh watched him as he licked his fingers and decided she’d give the nuts a miss.
Rimis ordered a round of drinks and when they arrived, Ashleigh threw back a large mouthful and swallowed hard. The liquid coated the back of her throat; it was refreshing, like when you dive into a pool after a stinking hot, dusty summer’s day. Both Rimis and Ashleigh ignored Colin and he soon got the hint. He picked up his beer and walked down to the far end of the bar.
‘The Phillips’s case turn up anything interesting?’ Rimis asked.
‘Nothing obvious, or nothing I wouldn’t have expected from a woman her age. She was undernourished, had a few circulation problems, but considering her age and the fact that she was living on her own, I’m not really surprised. There was also a bit of bruising on her face possibly from when her face hit the table after she passed out. I’m waiting for the tox reports and the drug and alcohol screens to come in before I type up my report. Should be in the next day or two.’ Ashleigh looked at Rimis and took another mouthful of wine.
‘What’s wrong Ash? I know that look.’
‘What look?’
‘The one you get when you’ve got something bugging you.’
Ashleigh swirled the remainder of her wine around the bottom of the glass and held the stem with her thumb and index finger. ‘Look, I didn’t really know Rose Phillips, okay, but I’d seen her, heard the talk from the neighbours.’
Rimis raised his eyebrows.
‘I know your take on all of this. You think it was suicide don’t you?’
Rimis looked at her, took a slug of beer and let her continue.
‘The police report said that a real estate agent found her body and that they found sleeping tablets, antidepressants and Scotch at the scene. Well, here’s a bit of information you might not know. The house is already on the market. Big sign, I’m surprised that it hasn't got bright neon lights flashing on top. There’s a ‘deceased estate’ sticker slapped right across the middle of it. I’m thinking, what if the son has money problems. I hear he has a fancy lifestyle and a demanding wife. What if he wanted Rose out of the way so he could sell the house? Kevin told me Rose was a stubborn, proud woman. What if she wanted to stay put, didn’t want to cooperate? I’m sorry, Nick, but suicide just doesn’t seem to fit the profile and she didn’t seem the type to be a heavy drinker either. There were no signs of alcohol abuse, her liver was in good shape considering her age. Anyway, it’ll be interesting to see the results when they come back and what her alcohol reading was at the time of death.’
‘Look Ash, we’re still treating this case as suicide, there’s no real evidence to think otherwise. You gotta remember, sometimes alcohol helps beats the blues and any other worries you might have, especially when you’re old and nobody gives a shit.’
‘Sounds like you’re talking from experience Nicko.’
Rimis looked down at his empty glass and quickly changed the subject. ‘By the way, have you heard the son’s asked the Coroner for an inquest? Like you, he seems to think the old lady didn’t top herself.’
‘That’s interesting. Well, he has the right to do that, Nick, but it’s up to the Coroner whether he thinks an inquest is warranted, you know that.’
‘Let me know when you’ve finished your report.’
They sat and listened to the music and didn’t say anything to each other for sometime before Ashleigh spoke. ‘Kevin Taggart has offered to drive me and the old women who live across the street, to the funeral. Might be interesting to see who turns up and check out what the family’s like.’
‘I’ll go along as well and I’ll bring the rookie for experience. She’s bright and a good looker. Her name’s Brennan, Jill Brennan.’ Rimis finished his beer. ‘Your shout mate,’ he called out to Colin at the other end of the bar. ‘I’ll have the same again.’ He turned to Ashleigh, ‘What about you Ash, want another one?’
She shook her head. ‘No thanks, I have to drive.’
‘Anyway, as I was saying,’ Rimis continued, ‘Jill Brennan, she’s been in the force for about four years now and she’s interested in this case for some reason. I suppose it’s because she was the one who broke the news to the son. He took it hard apparently.’
‘Listen Nick, forget Brennan for a minute will you, and do me a favour. Apart from the son, you might want to do a bit of digging around, find out about my neighbour, Kevin Taggart. There's something odd about him that just doesn’t sit right with me. He seems to have an unhealthy fascination for little old ladies, always going on about how proud and lonely they are and the trouble that causes.’
‘I interviewed him when I was there last Friday. I know what you mean about him, but he’s an artist, maybe he’s just eccentric.’
Ashleigh shrugged her shoulders and looked at her watch.
‘Want to come for something to eat?’ Rimis asked, as Ashleigh searched her shoulder bag and pulled out a twenty-dollar note from her purse for the next round of drinks.
‘Nick, I’m really beat. I’m going home for an early night. Nice meeting you Colin,’ she called out and waved in his direction.
‘Yeah, likewise. I’m sure I’ll run into you again sometime, bound to, in our line of work,’ Colin laughed and raised his glass. He had his arms around Stephanie Brooks, a legal clerk from the Coroner’s office.
Ashleigh walked out onto the busy street and wrapped her coat around her. The nights were turning cold.
