‘Did he have some reason for not liking Clements?’
‘I don’t think so, he’s just one of life’s truly horrible people. There are plenty of people like him. They call it schadenfreude.’
‘How the hell did he get a job driving the school bus?’
‘That I can’t tell you.’
His exasperation must have shown on his face. He was going to have to work on keeping it under control.
‘You must be wondering why you bothered speaking to me at all,’ Linda said. ‘It must seem like I just deny everything I don’t want to hear and can’t offer anything helpful—despite having thought about nothing else for the past ten years.’
Evan did a better job of controlling his face, but, privately, he thought that was a pretty succinct assessment.
‘Of course not,’ he said. ‘It’s been very useful.’
He didn’t think that came out too well. His sincere voice needed some work too. Luckily Linda didn’t ask him exactly how it had been useful.
‘So what are you going to do next?’
‘I think I need to talk to Ray Clements and then perhaps Carl Hendricks.’
She was the first to offer her hand on the way out and he took it. It seemed a strangely formal gesture, after so much raw emotion. She squeezed gently, rather than shaking.
‘Thank you for persevering. I’m not sure I would have.’
He squeezed back.
‘Thank you for being so honest. I’m not sure I would have.’
They stared at each other a few beats and then laughed together. He turned and almost ran down the path before things got out of hand.
Chapter 10
HE DIDN’T KNOW WHAT to think as he drove away. She was adamant her husband didn’t do it, that he didn’t run off with another woman either. He didn’t know if he agreed with her or not. In the world he’d worked in until a few days ago, people lied and cheated on their partners and ran off with each other every day of the week. Did she really know him? She was probably right about the affair—in his experience most people had an inkling about what was going on or else why would they come to him.
But just because she got that part right didn’t mean she was right about everything else as well. He couldn’t just accept her word for it; he would need to look into it further and try to find out if any women went missing at about the same time. Even if he found out that he had run off with some other woman, it didn’t mean he’d killed the boy. He had to agree with Linda on that score. It would take a special kind of monster to kill his own son in order to cover up something as run-of-the-mill as a bit on the side.
He still had Guillory’s card. That would be the easiest way to find out. She might be able to give Evan the official take on the gossip and rumors Linda had told him about. He had more chance of developing a relationship with her. Faulkner was likely to be on the defense all the time.
He phoned Guillory on his cell phone.
‘Well, well, if it isn’t Mr Peeper himself.’ Guillory said after Evan identified himself.
‘Mr Ex-Peeper.’
‘Ex-Peeper, eh. Glad to hear it. Got any clients?’
‘Ha ha.’
He could feel Guilllory smiling down the phone.
‘You liked that one, eh? So, you’re working for Linda Clayton now are you?’
‘That’s right, and thanks for the introduction.’
‘My pleasure.’
It wasn’t just the routine reply; she sounded genuinely pleased that she was able to help.
‘Pro bono, is it?’
‘We haven’t even talked about money.’
‘That’s good, because she hasn’t got any. She might not believe her husband did a runner and thinks he’s dead, but the insurance company don’t agree. No body, no life assurance payout. She’s poorer than a church mouse.’
‘It’s not a problem.’ Evan said.
He meant it too.
‘I know it’s not. That’s why I gave her your name. You’re a man searching for your salvation. I don’t think you’d charge her even if she was a Patty Hearst.’
Evan wondered how she’d managed to make such a good assessment in such a short time, but that was all part of her job.
‘Okay, you made your point; I’m a sucker for a sob story. But I need some help.’
‘And here I was thinking you just called me up to say thank you.’
‘Thank you.’
‘You’re welcome . . . didn’t we just do this? Anyway, what do you want to know?’
Evan told her about the rumors Linda had heard, and how she completely dismissed them.
‘You’re right; she won’t have a bad word said about her husband. But anything like that should have been investigated at the time. All I remember is that one day he just wasn’t around anymore. I don’t recall anything about another woman.’
‘I know it won’t prove anything but it must be worth looking into. Besides, if he ran off with a single woman she probably wouldn’t be listed as missing anyway.’
‘No shit Sherlock, I’d never have worked that out.’
‘Always happy to help.’
‘Leave it with me, smartass; I’ll see what I can dig up.’
Evan debated whether to ask the more delicate question that was on his mind. He didn’t know Guillory at all but she seemed pretty straight. What the hell.
‘Can I ask you one more thing?’ he said, immediately regretting it.
‘Uh-oh. When somebody asks you if they can ask you something, instead of just coming straight out and asking it, you just know it’s something they know they shouldn’t be asking.’
She was right about that. Evan had been about to ask her what she thought of Faulkner and his abilities, but now he decided not to. It could wait.
‘You’re right; no tongues on a first date. Let me know what you find out.’
He was about to end the call when Guillory said, ‘For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing the right thing here. You reap what you sow. You probably sleep better at night too.’
Chapter 11
EVAN DECIDED HE’D TALK to Ray Clements while he was waiting for Guillory to get back to him. He didn’t think Clements would have a problem talking to him if he mentioned Linda’s name. He no doubt thought of her as highly as she did him. Despite that he still decided not to call ahead and drove round to Clements’ house, not far from where Linda lived. The house and yard were small but tidy and well looked after. They looked every bit like Evan expected a retired school teacher’s house would look like.
As he pulled up, a large woman wearing too much makeup and totally inappropriate heels for her age came out the front door. Faulkner hadn’t lied, she’d been hit repeatedly with the ugly stick. Her hair was scraped back so tightly, it stretched her skin tight over her face. He hated to think what happened when all that tension was released at bedtime.
‘Mrs Clements—’
‘You must be the private eye,’ she interrupted, looking him up and down in a way that made him feel that he didn’t quite pass muster. ‘Linda Clayton rang Ray and told him she’d hired someone to find out what happened to her husband and boy. You’ve got that grubby sort of look about you.’
He wasn’t sure what she meant by that but he didn’t suppose she was being complimentary. Luckily, she was on her way out, because his brief encounter with her gave him the impression she would have dominated any conversation he tried to have with her husband. He hadn’t met the man, but already he was feeling sorry for him.
‘Ray’s inside,’ she continued. ‘You go on in. I’ve got to go out.’
She left the door open and got in her car and drove away. Evan knocked on the still open door and called inside.
Clements appeared from somewhere at the back of the house. He was tall and painfully thin with the beginnings of a stoop. He was the complete opposite of his wife. Evan was vaguely disappointed that he didn’t have a neat row of pens tucked into his shirt pocket or leather patches on his elbow
s. At least he had a full head of mad scientist style silver hair.
‘You must be Evan,’ he said, sticking out a surprisingly large hand and shaking energetically.
Evan was surprised by the firmness of his grip. He supposed he’d been expecting someone old and broken from the allegations made against him.
‘Come on in and call me Ray.’
‘Word spreads fast.’
‘You can’t blame Linda. You’re the first person to take her seriously for years. She told me you wanted to talk to me.’
Evan smiled to himself; he’d been right that Linda was busy lining up teams.
Clements led him through the house and out into the back yard. A couple of uncomfortable looking metal garden chairs sat on a deck at the back of the house. They sat down and Evan’s suspicions were confirmed, they were as uncomfortable as they looked. It was a yard for working in, not relaxing, and it showed. Another immaculate lawn was surrounded by perfectly manicured shrubs and trees. There was a pond with a waterfall and Evan was disappointed again to see that there were no garden gnomes fishing in it.
‘I hope you don’t mind talking to me. I’m sure it’ll resurrect some unpleasant memories.’
Clements shook his head and opened his arms wide.
‘I’ve got nothing to hide—unlike some people.’
He leant forward towards Evan in a conspiratorial way as he said it. It made Evan think of a large vulture inspecting the carcase of a dead elephant, deciding where to start.
‘Besides, if there’s any chance of finding out what happened, I’m more than happy to help.’
The guy seemed a bit too good to be true. And what was the unlike some people crack about? Perhaps Clements would turn out to be a better source of information. Evan leaned back to enjoy the warm afternoon sun on his face and asked him to give his version of things.
‘As far as I’m concerned there are two known facts and that’s all. One, Daniel left my classroom same as usual, without a scratch on him and two, he was never seen again. Unfortunately, as far as some people were concerned, that made me the last person to see him alive, and, as we all know, two plus two equals five, or is it five hundred?’
‘You’re talking about Faulkner.’
‘Who else? When you add the testimony’—he made a show of coughing into his hand—‘of Carl Hendricks into the equation, supposedly proving that Daniel never left the campus, that was just about all Faulkner needed.’ He raised his finger in the air in a eureka-style gesture. ‘Except some evidence of course. The small matter of some proof, or is that an unreasonable demand from a man whose life is on the line?’
Evan wondered if he’d taught drama at school.
‘Faulkner said you didn’t have an alibi.’
‘Well, I must be guilty then. Just take me away.’
He jumped up and held out his wrists as if Evan was going to cuff them. Evan took the opportunity to get out of the uncomfortable chair himself.
‘Or was I just unlucky to be the one person out of a hundred million other innocent people who don’t go around with a verifiable alibi covering every minute of their day, who was asked for one.’
‘He said you went for a drive.’
Clements let out a short, humorless laugh.
‘Yes, while that scumbag Hendricks went to a strip club. They probably took the dried stains in his underwear as evidence he was really there. That, and the word of the tired old whore who’d been busy waving her syphilitic twat in his face all afternoon.’
A speck of saliva flew from his mouth and landed on Evan’s chin. Evan tried to ignore it and not be obvious about wiping it away.
‘At least he wasn’t up to something really disgusting like driving his car.’
Evan was taken aback by the outburst. His mental image of what retired school teachers were like had been completely blown out of the water. Clements was clenching his jaw so hard by the time he finished, Evan was surprised he didn’t crack a tooth.
‘Faulkner also thought he’d caught me out in some huge, incriminating lie and cover up.’
‘Giving Daniel a ride home a few times?’
‘Yes. As you can see, we only live a few blocks away from each other.’
He took a deep breath and made a visible effort to relax his bunched shoulders, and then set off towards the pond. Evan followed. Clements picked up a tub of fish food and started feeding the fish that had swarmed to the edge.
‘It helps calm me down,’ he said. ‘Linda could be a bit strange at times and had this thing about Daniel walking home. She was brought up on a farm. She thought everyone should get lots of fresh air and exercise, that sort of thing, but you can take it too far.’
He cleared his throat and ran his bony hand through his hair, leaving little bits of fish food in it.
‘So I used to drop him off now and then.’ He cleared his throat noisily again. ‘But there’s no such thing as an innocent act of kindness, is there? There has to be something sinister going on. Some payment is required for the ride, a quid pro quo. And since young boys don’t have much money, they have to pay in other ways. Q.E.fucking D.’
‘And you didn’t volunteer the information because you knew Faulkner would do exactly what he did do with it.’
‘Yes. People like Faulkner always like the easy answer. They get sent on a half-day profiling seminar in East Bumfuck, and suddenly they’re Professor of Psychology at Harvard. Then they look at my wife and they look at me and you see their eyes narrow. You can actually see the wheels turning and see them thinking, ‘Will you look at the size of her. And look at him, the skinny runt. I bet she makes his life hell at home. I bet he goes out and abuses little boys to make himself feel better. I bet he’s got a really small pecker.’ It’s pathetic. It makes me sick.’
Evan felt a twinge of guilt for thinking the same thing—not the part about abusing little boys, just that his wife dominated him. It was too early to comment on his pecker.
Clements put the tub of fish food back down and stared absently into the dark water.
‘Of course, it then looked much worse when it did come out,’ he said.
‘How did it come out?’
Clements looked up and beamed at him.
‘Guess.’
Evan thought about the whole situation. There was only really one explanation that he could be expected to guess.
‘Hendricks?’
‘Give the man a cigar!’ Clements shouted, clapping his hands. ‘First of all, he convinced Faulkner that Daniel didn’t walk off campus, and then he tells him I know someone who likes to give little boys a ride in his car. You’d think he was trying to set me up.’
‘What do you think about Hendricks’ statement?’
‘Carl Hendricks was and probably still is a disgusting, useless sack of shit. If we were talking about whether a naked woman walked past his bus unnoticed, that’s a different matter.’ His mouth curled into a sneer. ‘She’d have tripped over his drooling tongue hanging down to the sidewalk. The way he looks at women in the street, I’m surprised he hasn’t been arrested for jerking off in public. But one kid out of all the hundreds milling around? He didn’t have a clue who passed his bus that, or any other, day.’
‘Which became obvious when Faulkner switched his focus to the father.’
‘Exactly. But it was far too late for me by then. Faulkner had me firmly in his sights and it had been in all the papers. People start out standing by you, but then the doubts creep in, there’s no smoke without fire. You can see it in their eyes.’
He looked down despondently. Evan understood exactly what it was like when people you thought were friends started to avoid you.
‘There are also a lot of people who have so much faith in the police they think it must be true or why else would they be looking at you. A presumption of guilt, you could call it. Then there’s all that unwelcome publicity for the school, of course. We need to punish the man who brought all this shit down on us.’
Clements
had been picking at his fingernails the whole time. He stopped and stuffed his hands into his pockets.
‘End result was, I lost my job and the next thing you know Faulkner has changed his mind and it’s the father, not me. Sorry about your career, sorry about your life, you’re free to go. Except you’re not. Not in people’s minds.’
There wasn’t anything Evan could say to make him feel less bitter about the almost casual way his life had been destroyed as part and parcel of the investigation. Clements headed back up towards the house then made a sharp right towards a plant that obviously required his immediate attention.
‘What do you think about the theory that the father did it?’ Evan said, trailing behind him.
Clements stopped and turned to face Evan.
‘I think it’s a crock of shit. I knew Robbie Clayton and I can guarantee he couldn’t have hurt that boy. He wasn’t perfect by a long stretch, but he adored that boy. He’d have done anything for him.’
‘You say he wasn’t perfect . . .’
‘I’m sure you must have heard about the rumors that went around.’
Evan nodded and told him to go on.
‘I know for a fact that Robbie sometimes had trouble keeping it in his pants, but that doesn’t mean he killed his son because he caught him with another woman and then they ran off together. That would take a monster.’
‘Why was Faulkner so convinced?’
Clements gave a small shrug.
‘I can’t say for sure, but most people like easy answers and half-baked solutions.’
The way he said it made Evan wonder if he was being put in the most people category. He got the impression that Clements thought he was back in school in front of an unusually dim class. He had that impatient, waiting-to-be-disappointed look on his face.
‘And Faulkner likes it nice and easy, that’s for sure. An expert in half-baked. More than that, it’s no longer an embarrassing, unsolved double murder on his patch just before he retires. Now it’s a nationwide manhunt and somebody else’s problem. Much better all round. Not his fault when they come up with Jack Shit.’
The Evan Buckley Thrillers: Books 1 - 4 (Evan Buckley Thrillers Boxsets) Page 7