NIGHT MOVES: The Stroll Murders

by Gar Mallinson

  Olivia coloured a bit. “I was active back then too, and she’s like me, a lot like me. I was experimenting, and I think she is. I know from my own experience that talking to her would do no good, restricting her would just make her more determined. Demanding to know where she was going would just result in fibs. It’s what I did. So when she came here for a visit, I did what I thought best.

  “I gave her time to herself and asked only that she call when she needed anything; a ride, some help. Oh, and I let her use one of the cars, mine. I took my husband’s when I needed one. He’s away at a medical conference. That’s all I know. I never asked where she was going or what she was doing, only that she come home every night. I wish I’d tried something else now. Short of putting a homing device on her, I don’t know.”

  Olivia looked expectant.

  “I’m sure the police are doing everything they can, and they can do a lot. The problem is that Mary hasn’t been missing long enough. We’re private. We can treat it as more than a missing person problem.”

  Harry paused for a moment, looked at Olivia, and shook his head.

  “I don’t think this is a missing person sort of thing and I don’t think you do either. If Mary is with a group somewhere partying, that’s one thing, but you don’t think that’s the case or you wouldn’t have called the police. I don’t think it is either. Somebody’s got her and we have to get her back.”

  Olivia hung her head for a few moments. Then she looked up, her eyes tearing. “Yes, I think she’s being held against her will or she would have called. She would have called, I’m sure of it.”

  Sabina reached out to her and took her hand.

  “Give us a chance to find her. We work independent of the police, but we keep in touch and if they find anything, we’ll know. We have a number of contacts they don’t have, and we’re not restricted by their rules.”

  Olivia nodded. “If you send over a contract, I’ll sign and send it back. Whatever you need, just ask. Money’s not a problem. Please, just find her.”

  Harry and Sabina left Olivia sitting dejectedly at the table.

  ◆◆◆

  “Okay, H, we got the job, now how do we get her back? We were all over Kylie and didn’t get a thing, just the little bunch of groupies down by the river and that pig, Bomber. All of it fizzled. We gotta do better this time. If we don’t, and she’s dead, Mamma Jing’s gonna make us sorry we ever existed.”

  They were heading back to the office along Chapel Street by the Anglican church “Early lunch?” Harry said. “We can plan some sort of strategy, maybe get Will to meet us somewhere. He’s about the only one who can find Rory anyway. Kylie’s autopsy won’t be done until later today, and we won’t see Alan and Spence until they get all their ducks in a row.”

  Sabina took Harry’s hand and guided him across the street towards the Modern, past the now defunct art gallery. They stopped at the gallery’s empty windows, one smashed by someone with nothing else to do, and peered inside. It was depressing. Just white walls and empty flats. The other side of the double storefront was now a jewellery store, but it too looked less appealing with the empty space beside it. They would miss the gallery, especially the front window, since they never knew what sort of abstract piece the owner would put there.

  The waitress, the same pretty Native girl who’d been there last time, took their order and left them alone. Sabina watched her walk away. Harry turned on his bench and did the same. “She’s a beauty all right. Hope she hangs around, makes lunch worthwhile.”

  Sabina kicked him under the table. “Behave. Jeez, you’d think you never got any the way you drool.”

  “I don’t drool, I just lubricate my lips a little so they don’t dry out.”

  Harry swivelled again and took another look. The Native girl was cleaning a couple of the rear tables, looked up, and caught him. She smiled, a twinkle in her eyes, and bent again to her table.

  “You’re busted, H, so give it up and pay attention.”

  Harry grinned at her and played with the saltshaker. “I got you, Babe. Why would I look at anyone else?”

  Sabina rolled her eyes. “Song titles again? You need to get more inventive, and we need to get serious. We need to work out an approach for Mary Chan. How do you want to handle this? We don’t even know where she was any night she’s been here, but I’d guess a club somewhere downtown.”

  Harry stopped playing with the shaker and focussed on the problem.

  “We can’t run a grid since we don’t have enough info. The clubs need to be checked, sure. Will would be good for that. And we need to get some of Rory’s guys to gather the street scut. We rule out the clubs, we have to ask around. I mean, she’s a party girl if her sister’s right. So if she hasn’t been to the couple of clubs downtown, where the hell’s she been?”

  “If Olivia’s right, and being Mary’s sister, she probably is, the clubs aren’t the only interest for a girl on the edge. There’s the stroll. We’ll need to check that out too on the off-chance she’s been watching the action—or worse.”

  The girl appeared with lunch, smiled at Harry, and set his plate in front of him. When she walked away, the hip movement was fluid and inviting.

  “You’re so busted, H. Now she’s playing with you, just to let you know. She’s having fun. She knows that I know, that’s why she’s doing it. I’ll deal with you later. Right now, let’s eat. I’m starved.”

  After a leisurely meal and two glasses of a good Shiraz, they walked back to the office. Once up the stairs, Harry rubbed Sabina’s shoulders. “I don’t think we’re gonna get much. Whoever this guy is, he’s sharp enough and seems to know the streets. Bugger just disappears. We don’t even know if Kylie ran or got taken. And this new one, Mary, disappears one night, no calls, nothing. Olivia’s right. She would have called if she could. So let’s hope we get lucky tonight because if we don’t, I fear we’re gonna find another body.”

  ◆◆◆

  Harry left Sabina spying on the cops and took the car up Victoria Road to Prideaux and the house the girls used. He’d cruise later to see if he could find Gloria. He banged on the front porch door and waited. It wasn’t Sandy who answered, but the slim dark-haired one with the amazing bust.

  “Oh shit, you again. Look, we can’t have you comin’ round like this all the time. Bad for business, you know. What the hell do you want, anyway?”

  Harry spent a half hour with the girls and left forty dollars poorer with nothing. He cruised his usual grid a few times, but his girl wasn’t around. It was just too early for much action and too late for Gloria’s morning stint.

  He went to the office to bug Isabella and to finish some surveillance reports on other cases before heading home to prepare for their evening vigil on the stroll.

  ◆◆◆

  By seven that evening, Sabina was dressed and ready to go. She had chosen a red mini, a tight, sheer red top that matched, black nylons, black lace lingerie, and black knee-high boots. Harry drove her to the office, parked in the lot, and watched her walk up Victoria Road. He still didn’t understand what she did to transform herself into a street girl, but she was convincing.

  He went back to the car and began another grid.

  Will had phoned. He was working the clubs late night. Rory had finally surfaced, and he and his guys were covering the streets. They’d meet later to see what they had.

  Sabina walked the sidewalk on the right side, the one that always seemed to be busier, until she got to Milton. There she paused, hip shot, and waited for the light. She crossed over to the other side and started down.

  She passed two girls working, but there was little traffic. She walked as far down as the SHH office, then crossed again and started up. At the crest of the hill, she passed a tall blonde with legs that went on forever and a bust that anyone would envy. She was wearing heels, a short black skirt, and a top that revealed enough cleavage and lace to attract even Sabina’s interest.

  Sabina stopped and looked back. The blonde h
ad stopped too, the rear view just as alluring. She turned her head, smiled at Sabina, and walked back. “You look delicious, Hon. And you look new. Haven’t seen you on the strip before. Where you from, then?”

  “I’ve just started here. Used to do the stroll in Vancouver sometimes down around Campbell. Was a lot busier than this.”

  The blonde chuckled and slipped her arm around Sabina’s waist. “Why don’t we walk together and get acquainted? I’ll fill you in on how it works here. Won’t be much different, but there are a few things.”

  They strolled together up to Milton again, paused on the corner, crossed over, and continued up Victoria Road.

  “I haven’t been up this far before. Didn’t know there was anything doing up here. How far do we go?”

  “Just up to the corner there, around Farquhar. Sometimes it’s busy here but mostly it’s down below Milton. It’s best between ten and about one, but some nights are lousy and some are good. No telling which you’ll get. There’s always somebody though, except maybe when the rain’s heavy. Look, there’s not much doing yet tonight, why don’t we go to my place? I’m just up Milton a block. We can get to know each other better and at least get warm before we come back down. What do you say?”

  Sabina hesitated as long as she thought a new girl would. “Be nice to get warm. Sure, let’s go.”

  They walked arm in arm back to the intersection and up Milton to a walkway that connected it to another street at right angles. At the second house in, the blonde said, “I’m down the side here. Watch your step, especially at the back where the steps go down. My name’s Sally, what do I call you?”

  Sabina gazed up at her. “Call me Boots, that’s my trademark.”

  The two reached the steps with Sally going down first and turning on a light once she had the door open. Sabina hesitated a moment, wondered what Harry would think, and started down. It was a large room in a boudoir kind of way, big bed, lots of filmy scarves over lamps, clothes draped over chairs, but it was warm and inviting. Sabina wandered around touching things. Sally watched her.

  “I buy the best I can. I think you do too. I mean, what you’re wearing, that stuff’s good quality.”

  Sally wandered over and ran her hands over Sabina’s ass. Then she slid both of them around to the front, down to the hem of her short skirt, then up her thighs. Sabina spread her legs and leaned back. Sally didn’t seem surprised.

  Later, they snuggled together on the large bed and talked. That’s when Sabina learned about the evening Sally had spent with an Asian girl named Cat.

  “She’s so tiny, you know, I didn’t expect her to be so hot. She was really into me and we had a good time. She was new too, like you, well, not like you. I mean she was all girl, and you, well, I thought you might be, but even I wasn’t entirely sure. You’re very good. But you’re like her too in a way—passionate—and you both throw yourselves into it with everything you’ve got. That’s what I sensed in her and that’s what I sense in you. And that’s the only reason either of you got to come here. I’m not a very promiscuous person, odd as that seems. I don’t do business on the strip, just occasionally, when I hit someone who appeals. But I love it out there, and I’d never give it up entirely.”

  Sabina snuggled up and sighed. “You’re like me. I come for the feeling too, it’s addictive. And I don’t do business on the street, none now. But you, you’re special. I’m living here now and I’m with a very good man. What do you do when you’re not out there playing hooker?”

  Sally chuckled. “I manage the town’s museum. It’s small and I do everything from acquisitions to display. Not too many customers, and not one of them would connect the street girl with the straight-laced curator. That’s the fun of it. How about you?”

  “I’m a private dick—and I meant that one. I work with the guy I’m with. Started business here a while ago. And I don’t think anyone would connect me with the strip, but maybe. If they did, unlike you, it wouldn’t matter given what I do.

  “Tell me about the Asian girl. She might be the one we’re looking for. She went missing a few days ago, and her sister’s really worried. So are we. She isn’t the first. If you tell me about her, I’ll come see your museum. Of course, I will anyway, but it’ll keep us square.”

  Sally hugged her. “You’re a keeper, babe. That girl, I hope you’re wrong, I hope it isn’t her. She was really young, too young for this. Just experimenting I think, but she was sure into it. Dressed the part. I brought her here, explained how things work. We played for a bit, and when I took her back out, I tried to steer her away from any tricky stuff. Picked her first for her, a guy I know, nice married guy. I left her on the strip when a friend of mine came along in his truck. We went for some pizza, but she probably thought it was a trick. I told her to wait for me, but when I got back she was gone.”

  Sally shook her head, furrowing her brow. “I look for her every night. Nothing. I thought maybe she’d had her fun and gone home, but it didn’t seem like that somehow. So I watch. I should have stayed with her, but she seemed okay. I really didn’t think she’d go with anyone while I was gone.”

  “Sounds like her if her sister’s description was on the nose. What did she look like, beyond the obvious I mean?”

  “Pretty, very pretty, maybe five-two, a hundred and five, long shiny black hair. Good legs, nice body, and she knew how to use it. Compact face, but lovely lines. I’m not good at description. Does that help at all?”

  “I think that’s our girl. She’s here on vacation from Singapore, going home in a few days, but who you describe seems close. If I get a picture, would you recognize her?”

  “Probably. Sure I would.”

  They spent another hour together, but Sabina got little more. By ten, they were back on the stroll and things were much livelier. They walked down Victoria Road smiling and talking, but aware of the people around them. Both joined the action on Milton, watching the girls. Sally talked to a couple of them, describing Cat, but no one had seen the small beautiful girl on the last two nights.

  By twelve-thirty, they decided to call it a night. Sally hugged Sabina. “Boots, I gotta say, you’re special. I really want to see you again. And I’d like to help look for Cat. She’s special too.”

  They watched each other walk away. Sabina headed down to the office, where Harry was waiting for her. She gave him a rundown.

  “I wondered where you were. I drove the strip a few times, but you weren’t around. Didn’t expect you to be shacked up though. Was it fun?”

  “It’s always fun, Sweets, you know that. But you’re my number one. Wouldn’t want it any other way. You okay with it?”

  “If she’s your girlfriend and you’re her girlfriend, I guess it doesn’t bother me since I’m your boyfriend and you’re, well, you’re sort of both anyway, so…What the hell, I’m happy for you that you’ve got a friend. Just remember who you live with.”

  “H, you’re the best, and I’m not likely to forget I live with you. Jesus, I barely get a moment’s peace.”

  Sabina grinned and gave him a big one on the lips. Harry reached over and pulled her across the desk. The chair protested, then slid away on its wheels and they ended up by the wall. Forty minutes later and after a shower together, they left for home.

  XII

  Morning saw the office full. Will arrived at nine on the dot, Alan and Spence twenty minutes later. Isabella brought in donuts and made fresh coffee. There weren’t many takers, except for coffee.

  After settling into a comfortable chair, Alan said, “We got the chief coroner’s initial report. The official one doesn’t go in for a day yet, but the cause of death is obvious, just the manner of death that’s not so clear. There was little evidence at the scene of any value. Kylie had been staged, that much is clear, but where she was killed isn’t. It might have been where she was found, might not. If not, we have no idea where that might be. Livor mortis and blood pooling are inconclusive because autolysis or liquefaction was advanced.”


  He took a long sip of coffee. “Now comes the interesting part. There were marks on the body that were premortem, and the ones we’re interested in, those strange bluish ones, weren’t tattoos. It was a kind of ink, but not any commercial brand that we know of. There was also some trauma to the head. She might not have been conscious when she was disembowelled. That’d be a blessing, if there is one in this case. That’s about all the chief coroner could tell us so far.”

  “So what about the marks, the ink stuff?” Harry asked, taking a bite of a cinnamon donut and licking sugar off his fingers. “Is that stuff homemade or what? And if it is, do we know what the ingredients are or where they might have come from?”

  Spence glared at him. “How the hell can you eat those things when we’re talking about dead bodies, especially a mutilated one?”

  “You should talk, you had breakfast already. We were up late over the new one and didn’t have time. Bet you ate at Aladdin’s again. All we get is this stuff, day-olds from Tim’s. At least the coffee’s good.”

  Spence shook her head in disgust. “We don’t know much about the ink except it isn’t commercial. The lab’s got a sample now, so maybe later today we’ll know more. Would you finish that thing, please?”

  Harry popped the last of the donut into his mouth, took a sip of coffee, and grinned at Spence. “You ought to try one, might improve your day a bit. Unless it’s the calories.”

  Spence was about to blow, so Alan stepped in.

  “We know something about the markings. They’re similar to the stuff Sabina sent us from the church. It’s the same sort of thing. In both cases, we think it’s applied by finger, but there are no usable prints in either case, at least not from the photos. We’ll need to take the altar cloth with us, send it to the lab. But in the close-ups, none of our guys can see anything useful in either the blood or the ink, if that’s what it is.”