NIGHT MOVES: The Stroll Murders

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NIGHT MOVES: The Stroll Murders Page 16

by Gar Mallinson


  “Which leaves us where?” Sabina asked over the edge of her cup. “We’ve got a body but no idea how it got there and no real knowledge of where the murder took place. We can’t identify the markings or the ink, but there are two instances of its use in the same area, well, reasonably the same. We don’t have very damn much.”

  Alan let out a long breath. “No, we don’t. Let’s hope the lab gives us something or the guys turn up something in the bush. We’re still looking. What we’ll get from the autopsy is details on the mutilation and maybe more. King’s pretty thorough, but he can’t see anything useful yet.”

  Will looked at Alan. “When’s the chief coroner going to release the body? Alicia’s a mess and likely to stay that way for a long time. Getting the body might ease things for her.”

  “It’ll be some days yet.”

  Harry held up a slim file.

  “Mary Chan. The girl from Singapore. Been working that one. We’ve got a bit more than we had with Kylie. Sabina found one girl on the strip who met her and can tell us about that, but she has no idea how or where the girl disappeared. We’re going back tonight, and if you’ll let us do it our way, we’ll get you more info. You guys go in there, you won’t get much. You’ll probably queer our chances too.” He handed the file to Alan.

  Isabella walked by with her cup, clattered around in the coffee room for a few minutes, and passed by again. “There’s fresh if anyone wants some.”

  They got another round and sat again, discussing the new case and deciding how to work it. Alan okayed the night work for Sabina and Harry, but from her squirming around in her chair and the expression on her face, it was clear to all that Spence wasn’t happy with the arrangement. She was about to start up, but Alan looked at her and she subsided.

  Harry didn’t look at her at all. He was tempted, but it wouldn’t do to annoy her and piss off Alan.

  The two detectives finished their coffee and left. Alan kept a close watch on Spence until they were out the door. Harry heard them arguing as they went down the stairs.

  Sabina hopped down from the desk. “I don’t know how he keeps that girl from screwing up. She’s pretty, but she’s a powerhouse. She’d roust a grizzly if he didn’t keep her tamped down. And you’d just love to start her up and let her rip, wouldn’t you?”

  “She’s just too tempting sometimes. Will, what did you get from the clubs?”

  “Nada, both places. She didn’t hang around either of them, and she hasn’t been in the Cambie, the pool halls, or the bistro. She ate mostly at the Modern when she did. Rory’s still working his people, but so far we’ve got only one thing. One of his people was at the drug dispensary. It was dark, but he saw the girl, at least one who looked a lot like her—tiny, Asian, long black hair, maybe a hundred pounds, he thought. She was dressed like a street girl. She hooked up with a tall blonde on the other side of the street that night. He saw her again on another night, probably the next one, when she was with the blonde again.”

  Will paused and sipped his coffee. “She got into a pickup and was gone about a half hour, he said, then she was back and the blonde left. Rory’s guy was caging cigarettes off a friend when he saw the small dark-haired girl get into another truck. It was beat-up and muddy, and it looked like two guys were in it. That’s the last he saw of her. This guy’s homeless, so he was around for at least another hour, but saw nothing. He’s also not one of Rory’s most reliable.”

  “This guy have a name?”

  “Cage. Only one he uses on the street. If he has a real one, nobody knows it. Not even Rory. He goes by Cage, I think, because he’s always caging cigarettes.”

  Sabina came back from the coffee room just in time to hear about the truck. “So this muddy pickup’s all we got? Cage get a colour?”

  “Too dark, but he said he’d recognize it if he saw it again.”

  “Did you actually talk to him or is this something Rory passed on?”

  “I talked to him myself, so what I’m telling you comes straight from him. I’ve got a couple of cases I’m working, so if we’re done here, I should get back.”

  Harry stood up and stretched. “Yeah, we got a few too, and we need to at least look like we’re working them. What say we get together again tomorrow, see what we get tonight?”

  Will nodded and left. They heard him talking to Isabella. “Probably setting up a call-back with her, and we should too.”

  Sabina grabbed her jacket and they went out together. Isabella waved goodbye. “You two got your maps? Don’t want you phoning in again. Town’s confusing, I know, but it’s embarrassing if someone’s in the office an’ I gotta tell you where you are and how to get where you’re going.”

  Harry turned at the door to answer, but Sabina tugged on his sleeve and they clattered down the stairs.

  ◆◆◆

  The evening started as it had before. Sabina walked up Victoria Road, taking her time, watching the cars pass. There were a number of girls on the west side tonight, most of them in miniskirts, a couple with tops that might as well not have been there. At the top of the hill, Sally was in white short shorts and a low-necked red sweater. She was wearing running shoes, no socks. When she saw Sabina, she waved and trotted down to meet her.

  “Hey, Boots, good to see you again. Any news? I’m still watching for Cat. Nothing.” Sally put her arm around Sabina’s waist and pulled her close. “Lots of girls out tonight, wanna hit my place for a bit?”

  Sabina smiled. “Sure, we need to talk anyway. You know a guy named Cage? He saw Cat the night she disappeared.”

  Sally pulled Sabina up the street toward Milton. “I know him a little. Skinny guy, always smoking, hangs around the dispensary most nights. He’s stoned a lot. We’ll find him later.”

  There were more cars now roaming the strip. Mostly they moved in a circle, up Victoria Road to Milton, then Albert, down Albert to Victoria Road, over and over. Some went up farther, turning around at the gas station and coming back. By midnight on a weekend, it was sometimes bumper to bumper along the road. At least according to Sally. Sabina was impressed. The nights she’d been around the area, it was slow, nearly dead.

  They wandered up to the cross street, took the little walkway, and went down the side of the house to the basement entrance. Inside, the light was mellow, diffused by sheer scarves thrown over low-wattage lamps. The bed was made, clothes were draped carefully over a couple of chairs, and the walls glowed a soft yellow. It was warm and inviting. Sabina loved the place.

  Later, lounging on the bed, they talked about the street and Cat. Sally had little to add about the tiny Asian girl, and beyond an offer to try to find him, little about Cage. The street was another matter. There, Sally had much to say. Sabina listened carefully, but there was little that helped.

  The streets here, Sabina thought, were little different from the stroll she was familiar with in Vancouver: the same warnings, the same kinds of characters, the same dangers, and the same drugs.

  There was one new thing Sally said. A single shemale turned up on weekends, a girl named Vanessa. She was blond, tall, narrow faced, and had large breast implants. Sally didn’t like her much. Apparently neither did the other girls. She was abrasive, loud, and in your face. She showed off her tits to passing cars, even tried to proposition some of the girls. She was into the heavy stuff, and what she earned went to the dealers.

  An hour or so later, the two of them returned to Victoria Road. Sally had changed into a mini similar to Sabina’s and a pair of black knee-high boots with four-inch heels. They were almost the same height and looked a bit like sisters as they walked along the street. Sabina looked at Sally and grinned. “Anybody pulls in, let’s go over together, watch the expression on his face when we lean in.”

  She’d barely finished saying that when a pickup pulled up, riding over the curb and onto the green strip next to the sidewalk. Together they jumped on the running board and stuck their heads in the open window. The driver wasn’t sure what to do. Sally reached in an
d stroked his cheek. “How ya doin’? You like a pair of sisters? We’ll do ya good, real good. Couple hundred you get a night you won’t forget. We got a cousin’ll join us if you like. She’s only fifty.”

  The guy was in his fifties or sixties, hard to tell, and he seemed alarmed. He put the truck in gear, shook his head, and mumbled that it was too rich for his blood. He slipped back onto the street as they jumped down and took off up the street, shot the light. They could see his taillights all the way up Victoria Road and watched as he went on over the top of the hill and disappeared.

  “Guess we shouldn’t do that again. Poor guy almost had a heart attack.” Sally stuck her arm around Sabina and they walked on. “Was fun, though, wasn’t it? We make a good pair.”

  By this time, they were just down from Prideaux on Victoria Road. “If he’s here, he’ll be down near the health center,” Sally said. “You know the building? It’s that stucco thing down the hill, the one with the bars. He hangs out there and the empty lot next door. Let’s take a look.”

  When they found Cage, he was sitting on an overturned milk crate smoking a cigarette and watching the cars parading up and down. There weren’t many of them, but he seemed to be focussed. Sally had to speak to him twice before he registered her presence. She waved Sabina over, introduced her, and whispered in her ear.

  “He’s stoned, so he’s not tracking well. That’s his second or third joint, and he’s well away. Give him enough time, you might get some answers. It’ll just be hard to keep him on track. I’ll wander about a little, see what’s going on. I’ll be around. Don’t disappear on me, you hear?”

  Sally worked her way out of the lot, her heels giving her some problems. With a curse or two, she made the sidewalk, paused for a moment while she checked the action, then wandered up the hill. Sabina watched her go before she squatted in front of Cage to talk to him about Mary.

  After an hour of coaxing, all she got was a more complete description of what they already knew. A few more details of the truck emerged: it wasn’t brown, it was a dark blue splattered with brown mud. An older model, a smaller one with dinged fenders and a cracked windshield on the driver’s side. Cage was sure about that because his cousin had one with the same crack on the driver’s side. He wasn’t sure of the make, but his cousin’s was a Dodge. His attention kept drifting, but at least while Sabina talked to him, he wasn’t reefing. The joint had burned down and he’d dropped it.

  She thanked him and he registered enough to nod a couple of times before he turned his attention back to the cars moving slowly up the street.

  Sabina picked her way across the lot and walked up Victoria Road in search of Sally. She found her up past Milton leaning in the window of another pickup, this one newer and a lot bigger. In spite of her height, Sally had one foot up on the running board so she could lean in, and the other airborne, the heel making little circles. Her lovely legs were visible all the way up, the short mini hiked enough to leave little to the imagination. Sabina smiled at the scene and waited on the sidewalk. The temptation to run her hand across that inviting rump was strong, but she knew Sally’d be pissed if she did.

  Whatever was under discussion didn’t take long, and Sally climbed down. She turned, and spotting Sabina, gave her a huge grin. “Boots! You lovely thing, you waiting for me?”

  Sabina nodded, stood hipshot, and admired her friend. They walked off together, the pickup already moving up the street. “That guy’s more a friend than anything, but he’s having some troubles these days and really wanted to talk. I let him down easy, so he’ll cruise a bit but he won’t do anything with anybody else. Sweet guy. His wife’s a bitch though, and he’s hurting. You get much from Cage?”

  “Better description of the truck is all and that’s only because his cousin has one like it. Nothing on the driver or passenger if there was one. So if he knew anything about that, he’s forgotten. We’ll pass it all on and widen the search. Not much sense keeping on here tonight. Well, except for you.”

  “Good to hear. So, you wanna do any more or can we go home now?”

  “Home’s where we better go. Harry’ll be waiting for me, and I’ve got a lot to do to find Cat. I’ll come see you at the museum tomorrow if I can. Maybe we can get lunch if that’ll work for you.”

  “I’ll make it work. I’ll look for you around one, that suit?”

  “If something breaks, it won’t. Otherwise, I’m there. I’ve got your cell. See you tomorrow.”

  They’d reached Milton long ago and had paused on the corner while they talked. Sally pointed up the street. “Here he comes again. I better take it this time. See you tomorrow.”

  The truck slid into the curb and Sally climbed in. Sabina waited until the pickup turned the corner, then rummaged around in her bag as she walked slowly down toward the office. All they had, she thought, was the truck. It might help, but old muddy pickups would be legion around this place. No plates, only Mary and a driver nobody could describe. Maybe Alan and Spence could do something with it.

  ◆◆◆

  When she got to the office, the lights were on and she knew Harry was waiting for her. He’d left the front door open.

  Upstairs was eerily quiet, and she moved carefully. Harry was behind the desk alright, but he’d fallen asleep. Sabina watched him for a while, her heart warmed by his vulnerability and the childlike innocence of slumber. Lovers, she thought, must always treasure moments like these. She certainly did.

  She moved inside, perched on the desk beside him, and stroked his hair. Harry mumbled something and moved his head a little. Sabina kept stroking.

  Finally, he woke, looked at her, and smiled.

  “Hey Sweets, when’d you get in?” He rubbed his eyes, still a bit groggy.

  Sabina waited until he was awake enough to give him a rundown of the evening.

  “We should fire off an email to Alan,” he said. “Copy to Spence so she doesn’t throw a fit and give him what we’ve got on the truck at least. Suggest maybe it was a Dodge, maybe not, and give him the cracked windshield. At least it’s something. Then we go home.”

  “Already done, H, on my cell while I walked back. He’ll get it as soon as he looks. Sent one to Spence as well. Let’s get some sleep. Any of that Chardonnay left?”

  ◆◆◆

  Harry stumbled out of bed, glanced at the clock, and headed for the bathroom. It was steamy still and the towels were wet. An old toothpaste tube lay on the counter, the tap dripped slow drops into the sink, and the business end of a hairbrush peeked out from under the plastic fern in the cast iron planter sitting beside the mirror. Harry scratched his head, yawned, and turned off the tap. He started on his teeth, but the electric brush lasted only moments before it ground to a halt. He dropped it on the charger and found a hand one. By the time he’d removed the packaging, the mirror had cleared. He stared solemnly at himself while he brushed. Then he turned on the shower and stretched in the warm flow from the shower head.

  When he left the bathroom, everything was back where it should be, the towels changed, the room orderly. In the bedroom, he made the bed, threw on a robe, and headed for the kitchen.

  Sabina stood at the stove, the frying pan loaded with eggs, bacon laid out on paper towels. The table was covered in a red and white checked cloth; plates, cutlery, and folded napkins were laid out. She glanced at him standing in the doorway and smiled.

  “Almost ready. If you put the bacon in the micro, give it twenty seconds. I’ll dish up and we can eat. Coffee’s ready.”

  They ate quietly, but over a second coffee, the light bouncing off the ceiling and flooding the table with a soft glow, they went over what they knew about Mary and everything they had to do.

  “McMillan’s finished and we’ve been paid, so I’m clear. But we got next to nothing on the disappearance, just the sighting on Victoria, and we’re still waiting for the rest of the forensics on Kylie. We can talk to Alan and Spence again, but until the lab reports are in, I doubt they’ll have anything on her eith
er. Mary’s not really a case for them, even though they think like we do. They’ll give it what they can, but it won’t be much. The only reason they’re on it at all is the possible serial thing. I can’t see their boss running with a guess for any length of time. Until a second body turns up, the heat’s on low.”

  Sabina shook her head and sighed. “All we can do is keep plowing the field. We use Rory and Will on it when we need them. They got their own stuff to do. And we try to keep Alan and Spence on point whatever time they can give to it. I’m going to have lunch with Sally today, see if any stray memories pop up. What do you have planned?”

  “Olivia again. I’ll go over everything with her. Hit the office, go over everything there. Talk to Alan, see if we can get a look at the murder book. Might be something in the Kylie file that throws some light on Mary’s disappearance. Other than that, I don’t know. Keep looking I guess.”

  They cleaned up, got dressed, and in half an hour were down the stairs and on their way to the office. They left the cars at home and walked. No need to drive since everything for the day was close.

  ◆◆◆

  Isabella was in place when they got up the stairs.

  “Made fresh, but I only got six today, so don’t bitch. Two cinnamons are all they had. Rest are mixed in case you have visitors and actually get some work. By the way, you’ve had one already. A reporter that keeps comin’ round, says he knows stuff and wants more. He’s a pain. You want me to be anything besides decoration, you’ll need some clients.”

  “We’ll pass on the decorative, no offence,” Harry said. “We’ll eat the donuts for energy, then think things through. Drum up a few extra clients easily. Look, Sabina wore her best skirt just for that purpose. Short but demure, sexy but restrained, suggestive but subtle.”

  Isabella shook her head and rolled her eyes. Harry gave it a rest. He got a cinnamon and a coffee and pulled out his notes. He spent a moment thinking about mixed metaphors and whether Isabella’s were clearer than his. Then he went back to his notes.

 

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