‘Was there anyone in particular that she was seeing?’
Schneider stopped his gyrations, thought for a moment and then nodded to himself.
‘Actually, I think there was, just before she disappeared, but I don’t know who it was.’
‘Did you tell this to the police back then?’
At first Evan thought he hadn’t heard. He was staring absently at the table top. Then he gave a small shrug and sat back down again.
‘I can’t remember,’ he said. ‘I’d have told them if they asked. Why wouldn’t I?’ He grunted as if someone had kicked him. ‘Not that it would have made any difference. Useless imbeciles.’
Evan hoped he didn’t sound too much like Schneider when he talked about Sarah’s disappearance.
‘I think perhaps I talked to someone called Fukner,’ Schneider said.
Evan coughed into his hand to hide a laugh. He couldn’t take much more of this nutty old man. He wasn’t sure whether it was his accent, or whether Schneider was just being offensive.
‘You mean Faulkner?’
‘That’s what I said, wasn’t it? Are you deaf too?’
Schneider was lapsing back into his quarrelsome self. Time was running out. He wasn’t going to get much more out of him.
‘What did he say?’
‘He said he couldn’t waste his time chasing after some low-rent whore.’
Evan was glad that he didn’t chew gum because he would surely have choked on it.
‘He actually said that?’
‘Well, no. Not exactly,’ Schneider admitted, ‘but that’s what he was thinking.’
‘How do you know that?’
Schneider looked at him like he was dealing with a retard.
‘I could see it in his eyes. He looked at me like I was some stupid old man making it all up.’
Evan was still holding the framed photograph and set it down carefully on the table. Schneider looked at it. Suddenly he back-handed it violently, smashing the glass with the force of the blow and sending it flying across the room. A small trickle of blood appeared on the back of his hand. He lifted his hand to his mouth and sucked the cut. Evan went over to where the picture lay to pick up the pieces.
‘Leave it there, where it belongs.’ Schneider hissed.
He slammed his fist down onto the table making Evan jump and muttered something under his breath. It sounded to Evan a lot like filthy whore.
The sudden outburst of violence and the venom in Schneider’s voice surprised him. He felt guilty for invading Schneider’s privacy and digging up memories that were capable of producing such rage. But it also made him wonder if Schneider had been completely truthful about the happy home life he’d lived with his sister.
It was clear there’d been some sexual interest on his part which hopefully hadn’t been reciprocated. You never knew in these rural areas. It was obvious that it was him who thought she was a whore. Maybe he’d inherited his parents’ strictness or maybe he was just jealous because he wasn’t getting what the other guys were. Perhaps she was locked in the basement as they spoke, desperately trying to get Evan’s attention. Or buried in the back yard for refusing to play Doctors and Nurses.
One thing was for sure, he wasn’t about to get anything useful out of Schneider now. Not that he’d got anything useful so far, apart from prima facie evidence that anyone living with Max Schneider would run off at the first opportunity.
Evan left him alone with his memories and his dreams of a working washing machine.
Chapter 14
IT WAS GOOD TO get back outside into the fresh air and sunlight. Schneider’s house had been oppressive and it smelled like the drains were backed up. That was probably the problem with his washing machine.
Evan got in his car and opened all the windows and let the wind blow through. He leaned back and closed his eyes and wondered what to do next. His phone rang. He thought it would be Guillory but he didn’t recognize the number when he looked at the screen.
‘I’ve been doing a bit of research into you,’ Faulkner’s voice said down the line. ‘Not exactly a career to be proud of. Let’s hope Linda Clayton doesn’t end up like your last client.’
Evan groaned. He could have done without any of this. Okay, he wanted to talk to Faulkner again, but not now, and not on Faulkner’s terms. And even though Faulkner was just trying to rile him, the dig about Stanton still hurt.
‘We’ve all got to make a living,’ he said lamely.
‘Yes, and when you couldn’t make one doing a proper job, you decided to stick your zoom lens up—’
Faulkner sounded drunk.
‘At least I’m not drunk in the middle of the afternoon.’
‘Up yours, sonny.’
The front door to Schneider’s house opened and Schneider walked towards Evan’s car. Evan sighed heavily. He couldn’t deal with Faulkner on the phone and nutty Schneider at the same time. He put the car into gear and pulled away slowly. Behind him Schneider broke into a run and shouted that he’d remembered how the noise sounded.
‘What was that?’ Faulkner said.
‘Nothing. Anyway, now we’ve got the pleasantries out the way, why don’t we see if we can have a normal conversation?’
‘Conversation? Let me look that up in my dictionary. Here we go. Conversation, as in some interfering individual, let’s call him Mr Evan P-for-Peeper Buckley, bugs the hell out of some other person and asks him a whole bunch of questions that he’s not entitled to have the answers to.’
Evan looked into his mirror and saw that Schneider had given up and gone back inside. He pulled onto the shoulder and stopped.
‘Sounds like we’ve got the exact same edition. There’s just one thing. I’m not bugging you, you called me.’
Faulkner laughed.
‘You know, I can’t help myself, but I actually like you.’
‘Is that why you’re calling me up? To tell me how much you like me? Or just to give me your considered opinion on my choice of career? Sounds to me like you’ve been discussing me with Detective Donut.’
‘Who? Oh, Ryder.’ He laughed again. ‘No, I called to find out why you didn’t come back to me if you needed more answers.’
Got you. Obviously, he’d got under Faulkner’s skin more than he’d realized. He grinned down the phone.
‘So that’s it. You can’t keep the green-eyed monster in its cage.’
‘I don’t know what you’re talking about,’ Faulkner said defensively, ‘but you should have come to me instead of Guillory.’
‘Why? Guillory started me on this and she’s still on the force so she’s got access to more resources than you.’
‘That’s what you think. Besides, she wasn’t even there at the time. You need to get it from the horse’s mouth.’
‘The horse’s what?’
‘Do you want me to help you or not?’
Evan didn’t think for a minute that Faulkner had suddenly decided to be über-helpful. More like he wanted to control the information Evan had access to.
‘So is this an invitation to come over and have you fill in all the gaps for me?’
‘Why not? Tell you what, let’s reinforce all those preconceived notions you’ve got in your thick head and I’ll tell you all about it over a beer. I’m not drunk, but it sounds like a plan to me.’
‘Okay, where do you want to go?’
‘Well, I’m afraid that’s where the old clichés end. We’re not going to some dive of a bar to drink cheap beer. I like up-market cocktail lounges, especially when you’re paying. And since I’m going to be doing most of the drinking, why don’t you come by and pick me up.’
Evan was happy to go along with that. There was a chance Faulkner would loosen up once he had a few drinks and he’d be in a sensible condition to take it all in. He would have liked a bit more time, so he suggested picking Faulkner up about seven the following day. But Faulkner wasn’t having any of it and Evan reluctantly agreed to pick him up that evening.
&nb
sp; ***
AFTER HE FINISHED ON the phone with Faulkner, he called Guillory to give her an update on Schneider.
‘So what have you found out, Mr P?’
It looked like Guillory wasn’t going to let the peeper moniker drop. At least there wasn’t any malice in her tone.
‘First off, Max Schneider is a certifiable fruitcake.’
‘Okay, that’s useful. I’ll be sure to make a note of that. Anything else we can actually use?’
‘It seems Barbara Schneider was Max Schneider’s sister, not his wife.’
‘What makes you say that?’
‘That’s what Schneider told me.’
‘That would be Schneider the fruitcake? I’m sure that’s not right. Let me check.’
Evan heard Guillory tapping away in her two-finger style at her keyboard. They ought to send her on a typing course. The tapping stopped.
‘No, she was definitely his wife. That’s what it says right here in the report.’
‘He gave me some story about her running wild after their parents died. Living it up, lots of different men.’
‘Uh-huh. That doesn’t mean she wasn’t married to him.’
Evan could have kicked himself. He felt stupid for not thinking about the possibility himself, especially given what he’d spent the last five years doing. Guillory didn’t miss it either.
‘I would have thought your career before you became Mr Ex-Peeper would have alerted you to that possibility.’
He could feel Guillory’s amusement oozing down the phone line.
‘Sorry, that life’s been expunged from my memory.’
‘It sounds like he’s invented some story to make himself feel better, soothe his injured pride. Tell yourself something for long enough and you come to believe it.’
‘That’s possible. As I said, he’s not firing on all cylinders.’
‘It could also explain her disappearance if there was another man. Either that or she’s buried in the back yard.’
‘He did get quite angry at the end. Called her a filthy whore and smashed a picture of her.’
‘Really? I might just take a look into that.’
But not Daniel Clayton?
Evan wondered why not as he ended the call. Did that mean she thought it was a dead duck and she’d just put Evan onto it to give him something to do. On the other hand, things were getting more complicated, the more he dug into them. He’d been hoping to be able to eliminate the running-off-with-another-woman line of enquiry but now it was growing legs.
Chapter 15
THE TIME HAD COME to talk to Hendricks. Evan realized he’d been putting the moment off, but when he thought about it he wasn’t sure why. He’d picked up all the animosity towards Hendricks coming from Ray Clements and Linda. Subconsciously he was siding with them because Hendricks sounded like such a degenerate. More preconceived ideas. He couldn’t argue with Faulkner about that.
He wanted to talk to Hendricks before he talked to Faulkner again, so he didn’t have much choice but to drive straight out there. Hendricks’ place surprised the hell out of him. All he knew about him was that he’d been the school bus driver. If he’d been asked he would have said that Hendricks probably lived in a trailer park like Faulkner.
What he actually lived in was a beautiful old farmhouse surrounded by three or four acres of land with a couple of well-kept barns standing off to the side. There was a hand-painted sign that read Beau Terre and an old-fashioned farmhouse porch which wrapped expansively around the house. It was about as different to Schneider’s farmhouse as you could imagine. Either he’d made a ton of money selling drugs to the kids on the bus, or he’d inherited it.
Hendricks himself was sitting in a rocker on the porch enjoying the late afternoon sun, looking like God was in his heaven and all was right with the world. He had a pinched, bony face with a scar across the bridge of his nose, which had been badly set at some time in the past. He had a mass of black and gray hair that made Evan think there must have been a sale of wire wool at the dollar store. The sybaritic smile plastered on his thin lips made Evan want to slap him before he’d even said a word.
‘You must be Buckley,’ he said, as Evan climbed the steps up to the porch. ‘Have a seat. Can I get you anything?’ There was a pitcher of iced tea on the table beside him and two glasses. He waved towards them.
Evan declined the offer.
‘How do you know who I am?’
‘Matt Faulkner called me. Said you were working for that crazy woman Clayton, digging all that shit up again and would probably want to talk to me.’
He had a lazy, drawling way of speaking which just reinforced the air of smug contentment.
‘He’s right. I’m just surprised he called to—’
‘Warn me? Is that what you were about to say?’ He rolled forward in his rocker and spread his arms, palms towards Evan, in a universal gesture of openness. ‘We haven’t got anything to hide.’
A large white cat with a black patch on its head trotted up the steps and jumped onto Hendricks’ lap. He stroked it as it started to clean.
‘Have we, Armstrong?’ he said, rubbing the cat’s ears.
It purred contentedly. Evan wasn’t a cat person but he had to admit it was a good-looking cat. He wasn’t sure which one of them was the most self-satisfied.
‘I’m sure you haven’t.’ Evan said.
He didn’t know if he was sure of that at all. He also didn’t know how to take Faulkner calling ahead. He thought warn was exactly the right word to use. He asked Hendricks to give him his view of the events.
‘Personally, I think it was Clements.’
It made a refreshing change for someone to say something other than they didn’t have a clue.
‘That doesn’t surprise me. Clements doesn’t have a good word for you either.’
‘I’m sure he doesn’t. But Ray Clements is a bitter old man and he’s lucky he’s not in jail if you ask me.’
‘You seem pretty sure about it. What do you think happened?’
‘Like I said at the time, the boy never left the campus. I don’t care what anybody says about me not paying attention and letting him slip past. It didn’t happen. That boy never left the campus except in Clements’ car.’
He jabbed the table with his middle finger as if that clinched it.
‘What about the fact that Faulkner ended up believing Daniel made it past you without being seen and it was the father who did it?’
‘Just because Matt Faulkner called me up to warn me, doesn’t mean we’re so tight I can’t disagree with him. The boy did not walk past my bus without me seeing him.’
‘And that automatically makes it Clements, does it?’
‘He tried to hide the fact that he’d given him a ride before. Why would a man with nothing to hide do that?’
‘And it was you who told Faulkner about it.’
He nodded emphatically.
‘You got that right. I think most people would agree it was the appropriate thing to do in the circumstances.’
The self-righteous look on his face made Evan want to punch it.
‘He lost his job as a result. Over an accusation that was never proven.’
‘No, he didn’t. He lost his job because they wanted to get rid of him and this gave them the excuse they needed to do it.’
‘Why do you say that?’
Hendricks poured himself another glass of iced tea. This time Evan accepted the offer of a drink. He wanted to see if the other glass had been used. He asked Hendricks again why he thought the school had wanted to get rid of Clements.
‘Because he was a pervert, a pederast.’
‘You mean a pedophile.’
‘No, a pederast—there’s a difference. He only liked boys. Why else would you give young boys a ride in your car?
‘Because he was a nice guy and the kid lived a block away?’
Hendricks gave him a scathing look.
‘Doesn’t happen if you ask me. You could
see he was a pervert just looking at him.’
It wasn’t even worth asking him what he meant, what particular facial or bodily characteristics marked you out as a pervert. In fact, Clements and Hendricks looked quite similar, particularly the hair.
‘Were there other boys apart from Daniel?’
‘Probably.’
‘Did you ever see any of them?’
‘No. Doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.’
Evan had heard enough of Hendricks’ prejudices.
‘Was there any proof? Did anyone make an accusation? Or were they just as prejudiced as you?’
‘I’m not prejudiced, I’m just saying what everyone knew.’
‘According to you.’
‘Whatever.’
It was obvious Evan wasn’t going to get anything remotely objective out of Hendricks, but that didn’t surprise him. The trouble was, Hendricks’ smug confidence in his own bigotry was really grating on him. Time to wipe the smile off his face.
‘Why did you take a job as a school bus driver?’
It worked. Hendricks jerked upright in his chair and glowered at Evan. Evan saw him wince as the cat leapt from his lap digging its claws into his leg as it went. That’s more like it.
‘You better not be suggesting it’s because I like little kids.’
Evan gave him a supercilious look.
‘Why not? I like kids, just not in the way you’re thinking. Why is it people like you automatically assume if you like children, you want to have sex with them?’
‘I don’t think that.’
Most of the smugness was gone now. The irritating smile had been replaced by an unpleasant curl of the lip.
‘Yes you do. That’s exactly what you think about Ray Clements.’
‘Yeah, well he’s different. I just needed a job.’
The comment had an unfortunate ring of familiarity about it. Evan had said pretty much the same thing to Faulkner to justify what he’d been doing.
‘Do you know why Linda Clayton made Daniel walk home?’
The question threw Hendricks as Evan had hoped. His eyes narrowed and he leaned back in the rocker and contemplated him. He could see something coming but he didn’t know what it was.
The Evan Buckley Thrillers: Books 1 - 4 (Evan Buckley Thrillers Boxsets) Page 9