NIGHT MOVES: The Stroll Murders

by Gar Mallinson

  NIGHT MOVES

  THE STROLL MURDERS

  GAR MALLISON

  Copyright © 2021 Gar Mallinson

  NIGHT MOVES: The Stroll Murders

  A HARRY TOUCHTONE MYSTERY BOOK 2

  This version is digital, an Ebook. It is also available in print.

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in retrieval systems, or transmitted, in any way or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author. NOTE: Exceptions are made for journalistic purposes, quotations, and/or short excerpts in reviews, on blog posts, etc.

  Gar Mallinson garmallinson@gmail.com

  garmallinson.com

  Night Moves: a novel / Gar Mallinson (Previous title: Blood Lust)

  ISBN: 978-1-7776363-0-2 (Paperback)

  978-1-7778363-1-9 (eBook)

  Identifiers: Fiction, Mystery and Detective fiction, Private Investigators, Hard-boiled Mystery

  Distributed to the Trade by The Ingram Book Co

  Published by SKCPRESS 2021

  356 Westridge Drive, Ontario, Canada N2L 5Y3

  daleyfrank0@gmail.com Tel: 647-204-5059

  SKC Press is a small publisher and book packager.

  Dear Reader

  Here’s a gift for you!

  My short story, George

  It’s a story about a boy who watches George leave the family farm every day with an axe on his shoulder.

  One day he follows him.

  Gar

  NIGHT MOVES

  THE STROLL MURDERS

  Gar Mallinson

  I

  Kylie Wingate was sixteen and a senior at Harbour City High. She had just finished her morning chores and was in her room trying to decide what to wear. She’d had her hair done by that super guy at the hair salon, and she thought the reddish streaks looked good, especially with the new cut.

  She sighed dramatically. There wasn’t a damn thing to wear, and most of what she had lay in piles on the bed and the floor and the chair. She scrunched up her face, kicked the pile by her feet, and sighed again. She was in the drama club and had been practising that sigh because Billy Short got attentive when she did it. If only she had a bigger allowance, she could get that cute low-cut blouse she’d tried on at Target. Jen could always buy stuff, but oh no, not her. It wouldn’t do to spend money. Why couldn’t her mom stay home once in a while? Jen’s mom never came shopping. It was embarrassing having her mother shopping with her.

  Downstairs in the kitchen, Alicia Wingate finished the breakfast dishes and thought about her daughter and her new friends. They seemed to change every semester, and this new crowd, well, she didn’t like them much, especially Jen. She was too wild, and her shorts were too short and tight. So were her skirts, if you could call them that. And her mother was just as bad, with too much makeup and too much flash. Alicia glanced down at the plate she was clearing before she put it in the dishwasher. She dried her hands and walked into the back room to fill the washer.

  Kylie changed again and put on shorts, turning up the legs, and a round-necked top that left some of her midriff exposed, but not enough to get her grounded like last time. Jeez, everybody wore tight stuff. She raced down the stairs, yelled, “Bye, Mom!” on the way out, and slammed the door. She ran down the block before her mother could call her back. She slowed to a lazy shuffle, pulled out her phone, and began to text Jen.

  She watched the screen as she walked, hoping for an answer. She reached the corner at Wallace and turned toward the Tim Hortons. The three of them usually hung out there—her, Jen, and Billy. She was sure she loved Billy, but she wasn’t sure he loved her the same way. He wanted her all right, she knew that, but there were other girls who hung around him, and she didn’t like that at all.

  Kylie was still watching her phone. Nobody was answering her texts, and nobody was at the restaurant either. Kylie sighed and walked on. She’d try Bowen Park and the sand court where the gang played volleyball.

  She sat on a bench under a tree and waited. She turned away when the old guys started playing because it was gross the way they looked at her. She watched glumly while small groups of young guys played Frisbee golf. She knew Jen and Billy played and thought maybe they’d pass by and she could join them. She didn’t like frisbees much and couldn’t throw them very well, so Billy never had much patience with her. He had a lot, though, when he got her alone. They’d been close to going all the way a few times. Kylie knew if they kept going, she’d give in and do it. She sure wanted to and so did he, but her mom would kill her if she ever found out. And her dad would kill Billy.

  Kylie sighed again. If she could get the pill, she’d feel safe and let Billy do whatever he wanted, the way Jen did with Jimmy. They talked about it all the time, and Kylie was starting to feel left out. It was like the others were getting tired of waiting for her and were moving on to other people, leaving her out of things. Like today, she couldn’t reach any of them.

  Another round of players passed the station near her bench and Kylie decided to try down on the seawall. Everybody hung there, and sometimes in the afternoon they’d light up and she’d get high with them. They were the best times, she thought, except for the ones with Billy in the dark. Kylie smiled thinking of him and what they did together.

  ◆◆◆

  Maffeo Sutton Park was only a couple of blocks away. The Millstream River dumped into the harbour on the other side of the park, and sometimes everybody was up the river a bit, off the path by the water. She’d try both places.

  Kylie walked into the park and angled toward the statue. There were too many people around, she thought, maybe from a cruise ship or something. She’d never find them there. She turned toward the Millstream side, took the walkway upriver, and followed the paved path to the turn down toward the water.

  She could smell the joints before she reached the place by the rapids and knew she’d found them. She pushed through the last of the shrubs and there they were, Billy, Jen, and Jimmy. They nodded and Jen passed her a joint. She took a hit and passed it to Billy, who pulled her over beside him and slid his hand up her leg. Jen grinned at her and nodded. She let Billy do what he wanted as Jen and Jimmy watched.

  Jen took off her blouse and let Jimmy undo her bra. Kylie watched for a little while, getting aroused. Suddenly, she reached up and undid the buttons on her blouse, slid it off and dropped it behind her. Billy undid her bra and the zipper on her shorts.

  Then Jen slid off her perch, knelt in front of Kylie, and pulled at the legs of her shorts. She slid up between Kylie’s legs and caressed her breasts. Kylie watched her friend’s face, felt her lips on her nipples, and closed her eyes. When she opened them again, she saw Billy’s naked body, his erection obvious. Billy and Jimmy ran their hands over her body and Kylie gave herself up to the sensations.

  Jen watched as the two boys deflowered her friend over the next hour or so. Jen enjoyed Kylie too until all three were satiated. They remained naked, all of them, and smoked a few joints. Finally, Jen took Kylie down to the river and they both swam for a while before lying on the flat rocks by the rapids and drying in the sun.

  Jen looked at Kylie. “You’re so good, K. I love you as much as Billy does. We’re together now the way we should be and we all share each other. You liked what we did together, and you liked what I did too. We’ve been waiting for you. The four of us, we’ll share everything.”

  Kylie looked at Jen’s naked body, the soft sun glancing off the droplets of water still clinging to her skin. She reached over and ran her hand across Jen’s belly, turned on her side on the flat, water-smoothed rock slab, and kissed her. The two girls caressed
each other, talking softly, before returning to the boys. Another joint circled the small group before they dressed and left the river.

  Kylie walked home slowly. She felt happier than ever. She belonged. She was one of them.

  ◆◆◆

  The office was on the second floor of Harbour City’s old fire hall above a newish restaurant called Glow, whose name only the owner could explain. It looked out onto Victoria Crescent, at least the curved part of it at the bottom of the hill. This was the beginning of the south end, part of the stroll at night, and home to the seedier elements looking for a handout from the new Salvation Army building across the street in the morning.

  Besides social services offices, the crescent housed a couple of small eat-in restaurants, an outreach police storefront, a few second-hand audio stores, and the Cambie, a biker-owned establishment that had a pool hall and a narrow, scruffy restaurant on the ground floor.

  Sabina sat in the secretary’s chair at Willow’s old desk and crossed her legs. Harry smiled at the move, as she knew he would, and that gave her the opening she wanted.

  “You’d think after last night you wouldn’t give a damn what kind of skirt I was wearing, but those eyes just drift, don’t they?”

  Harry looked up. “Last night was last night. Your skirt’s pretty short, so I was just comparing it with Willow’s, in terms of length only. I was about to check your buttons when you broke my concentration.”

  Willow was Harry’s old secretary. She’d had a habit of wearing tight skirts with lots of leg, and blouses on which the top three buttons never seemed to work.

  Sabina was his new partner. He was hoping she’d dress here the same way as when he’d met her on the stroll in Vancouver. She loved the smell of the street, the car exhaust, the effluvium of lust and carnality. She was, as he’d discovered, addicted to the street, to the excitement and edginess. Even though she rarely participated, she’d told him when he met her that it was a part of who she was. In her other life, she was a programmer and damned good at it.

  Harry smiled and was happy with this new start in the old office. He leaned back in his chair, the springs protesting as they always did, and thought about his old secretary.

  Willow was a beautiful Native girl, or had been until she’d been kidnapped and raped by a sadistic, brutal psychopath and his equally perverse partner. It was all a part of that last case in the big city. She’d never come back from that trauma, not the way she had been. She now lived with Ling, one of Mamma Jing’s favourite daughters, another beautiful girl from Chinatown. Willow had found a soul mate.

  The two of them had grown into a life that Harry now understood a little better. Their relationship mirrored his own with Sabina, minus perhaps a lot of his early confusion with his new relationship. Sabina was a stunning transvestite, and she’d thrown Harry’s libido into chaos, but now he felt closer to her than he ever had to anyone.

  On top of Sabina’s physical charms, she was flexible, intelligent, and pure fun. She was a generous spirit and a great companion. If that wasn’t enough, her programming skills and her contacts were top-notch. Sabina’s talents, along with Mamma Jing’s army of men in Vancouver’s Chinatown, had helped solve that last case.

  Sabina had recently come back to the island with him when they’d finished the case and now sat in Harry’s old office in Harbour City. Harry watched her studying Willow’s laptop, that Apple thing Willow’d made him buy. He knew what Sabina was used to computer wise, and he could see more money sliding out the door.

  Sabina turned from the computer, swung her leg back and forth, and watched Harry’s eyes tracking. She grinned. “Harry, you need to focus here. We gotta get this place organized. Jesus, for a straight guy, you sure have a problem concentrating.”

  Harry looked at her. “You mess with me all the time. I can keep things in their proper places. Well, some things anyway.” He sat back, stuck his hands behind his head, and sighed. “So partner, what do we need? At least from your end… um, speaking figuratively, I guess.”

  Down came Sabina’s foot and up went her eyebrows. “Well, first thing, my end ain’t figurative, as you’ve discovered, and second, this computer’s got a pretty small drive. I’ll need a lot of software and some other stuff. And a second computer. So the Apple store for starters. Then we reorganize the office and get some decent furniture in here.”

  Harry groaned. “We gonna spend a lot on this or are you gonna take it easy until we get a few cases? Can’t we work at this in bits? I mean, I didn’t need any more than I got, so why do I need all this stuff now?”

  Sabina sighed. “We’re partners now, and we need a decent workspace. You want a secretary to look nice up here, find somebody. Me, I’m setting up shop. You coming or you gonna sit there all day?”

  Harry got up reluctantly and followed Sabina down the hall, watching the flip of her rear descending the stairs in that short skirt. “Almost as good as Willow,” he murmured. “And without as much mouth. Usually, anyway.”

  ◆◆◆

  Just around the corner, on the butt end of Victoria Crescent, was a highway called Terminal Ave, which cut through town and separated the crescent from the main drag. A series of new shops were trying hard to change the street’s image and mostly failing in the attempt. The new conference center wasn’t faring much better.

  From the office, Harry and Sabina crossed Terminal at the lights, and walked up past the Serious Coffee in the bottom of the conference center. They turned down a short one-lane alley to the Apple store by a hole-in-the-wall restaurant called Le Petit Chou. Harry wondered why anybody’d call a restaurant a small cabbage, just as he’d never understand why every computer in the store had an apple with a bite out of it.

  In this store, Sabina did the talking. Harry looked around and said he’d meet her in the Modern, a newish restaurant up the street by an old three-storey columned building that gave the area a kind of solidity.

  The Modern had replaced an old Chinese dump that had been an eyesore for years. Wong, the owner, had died in the kitchen, which gave the city fathers a chance to restore the building. The result was a bar with sandblasted brick walls, shiny dark-brown leather booths on the side and in the center, and high tables in the back.

  The food was generous, the menu varied, and the prices reasonable. Harry liked the place, especially since it was only a short block from the Red Brick Bar on a cobbled street run by his close friend, Sam. Sam kept a stock of single malts under the counter just for him.

  On the way to the restaurant, Harry passed one of those tourist-trap shops full of artsy kitchen stuff and uncomfortable looking furniture. The store seemed to hog a lot of space on the street. Following that place were a couple of clothing stores and a coffee shop called Perkins that had indeed perked up the street a bit, what with the Modern just across the street.

  He looked in at the art gallery beside the Modern to see what sort of mess was in the window today. Mostly, the place handled local landscape artists, but it reserved the front window for whatever abstraction caught the owner’s eye, which wasn’t always twenty-twenty. Today’s feature was a large mess of blue and white with red slashes

  He went all the way to the back of the restaurant and took the last booth. He ordered his usual cappuccino and sat back to wait for Sabina. The longer she took, he knew, the higher the bill would be. He finished that coffee and ordered another. A few minutes later, He watched her walk toward him, as did the barista and the waitress, the one appreciative, the other looking hostile.

  Harry grinned at her. “You’re having your usual impact. That girl don’t like you.” He nodded at the waitress.

  “She’s just not used to big city girls,” she said.

  “Sort of free advertising, then?” Harry frowned. “We could use some business now, seeing as how you spent so much time in that store. Tell me what you bought before I order lunch. I don’t want to ruin the enjoyment thinking about it. The food’s good here.”

  Sabina smiled in that se
ductive way she had, flipped up an eyebrow, and rubbed his calf under the table.

  “Relax, H, it wasn’t so bad. Just a couple of laptops and some software and stuff, and I swapped some of it for a cleanup of their accounting system. After all, I’m a programmer. Stuff’ll be ready in a day or so, and my fee covers most of it. So order up, big boy. Let’s eat. I’m starved.”

  They didn’t say much over lunch, and both settled back afterward with more coffee. Harry was content just to sit for a while, but Sabina was in one of her moods and fidgeted until he sighed and got up. She grinned at him. “You’re catching on, Sweets. Let’s roll!”

  They walked back to the office to get the car. On the way, Sabina explained how the office should look if they wanted to create any kind of impression. Harry plodded along, nodded glumly, and figured he might as well humour her.

  The car took them to a couple of stores out on Bowen Road that had been joined together. Sabina began comparing fabrics and styles with the salesgirl while Harry wandered around the store. He watched the two girls disappear into the depths, then wandered into the other half. This one was full of Scandinavian stuff. He wandered around looking at the offerings, wondering how some of them worked.

  He was still there and still wondering when Sabina joined him, chuckled at his expression, and said, “New designs, H, beyond your skill set. Let’s blow the place. I’ve got what we need, and it’ll be ready in a week or so. You’re gonna love it.”

  Harry drove them back to the office, parked across the road in the small lot somebody’d cut out of the rock face, and followed Sabina up the stairs.