*****
‘Morning Mr Mayor.’
‘Morning, Sheila: mail on my desk?’
‘Yes sir, exactly as you like it.’
Matthew Lansdowne grinned as he walked into his office. Sheila put him first. There was a time Monica did that, until Lydia. Whose idea was it to have a kid, anyway? He thought back to his mood an hour ago when he’d left the house. Monica had been fussing over him about breakfast, when all he really wanted to do was get in the car. Maybe she was trying to make up for all the questions last night about Father Bannister.
The large mahogany desk dominated the mayoral office. Two leather chairs were positioned in front of it. On the right hand side of the room was a small conference table with four chairs. Larger meetings were held down the hall. He didn’t like more than four people in his room at any one time. In fact, mostly he preferred to be alone there, but the job required interaction, lots of it: with senior police officers, civic dignitaries, business people, his political cronies and, of course, the public. The latter was avoided as much as possible. He did keep to one election pledge though: to read all letters that came across his desk. You never knew when you might get caught. The first few months the public took him at his word and there were hundreds a day. Now the pile was down to forty or fewer per day and an hour was all the time he devoted to the pledge any more.
He lifted the first one off the stack, scanned it and jotted a reply for Sheila to type. It was going quite well until halfway down the pile. The next letter felt odd somehow. It was typed out neatly but not signed. He was about to dismiss it outright, but curiosity took over.
‘Dear Mayor,
Shame about Father Bannister, wouldn’t you say? Who could do something like that to a priest?’
He thought back to the conversation with his wife last night. The conversation that had ended abruptly, when Lydia started crying.
‘But he wasn’t always a priest, was he? Maybe he had something to hide. Sometimes death purges people, wouldn’t you agree? Do you have anything to hide, Mr Mayor? After all, most of us do.’
There was no need for a signature. He could almost feel the colour rising in his cheeks. His hand shaking, he pressed the button. ‘Sheila, hold all calls. I need to work on my speech for tonight.’
‘Would you like me to bring you in some coffee?’
‘No thanks. Make sure I’m not disturbed.’ He sounded more abrupt than he’d meant to, definitely a mistake. The last thing he needed was to alarm his secretary. He carefully removed the letter from the others and folded it into four, placing it in the top inside pocket of his jacket. The others he put to one side. He took his private cellphone out of his briefcase. Three rings and it was answered.
‘It’s me. Have you heard on the news that Brian’s dead?’
‘I’ve heard. What about it?’
‘Are you concerned?’
‘No, should I be?’
‘I didn’t think so until I got a letter this morning. Listen to this.’ The mayor retrieved the letter from his pocket.
When he finished there was a long silence followed by a terse reply, ‘We need to meet and take care of this once and for all.’
Chapter 12
The phone rang as Lillian Marks put her sweater on to go out. She felt weary from disturbed sleep. Thoughts of Jennifer had swirled around in her head all night and whenever she had drifted off, her daughter appeared in her dreams. So too did Barry. They were smiling. When she woke up, she was thinking about what might have been. It did nothing to lift her mood.
She picked up the receiver. ‘Hello.’
‘Mom, it’s me, Grace.’
‘Hello dear, I wasn’t expecting you at this time of day. It’s quite a good connection for a change.’
‘That’s because I’m not in Dubai, Mom. I’m in our New York office. Something has come up here and they’ve asked me to transfer for six to eight months, to head up a project team. I only found out last week. Sorry, I didn’t have a minute spare to let you know. I was swamped: had to arrange to lease out my apartment in Dubai, pack, arrange flights and tie up some work in the Dubai office.’
‘Well, what a lovely surprise. I didn’t think I’d see you again for months. Will you be able to spend some time here or will you be too busy?’
‘Mom, that’s one of the things that made me jump at the opportunity. I’ll probably be able to spend most weekends with you, if that’s OK.’
‘Of course, Grace. This is your home, you know that.’
After making arrangements for the weekend, Grace turned back to her computer screen. There was so much to organise before the week finished. She needed to order furniture for the large conference room allocated for the project. Then she had to interview prospective members of the team. There were more people expressing an interest than required. She’d been told that several of the newly qualified lawyers were eager to work with her. Grace felt honoured and remembered how she’d been starting out. Of course, she wanted the best on her team, especially someone she could trust to deputise for her in some of the meetings. It had to be someone as thorough and painstaking as she was herself. She knew that her own remarkably high standards, both professionally and personally, accounted for why her career was taking off. To her regret, her love life suffered as a consequence.
There was a knock on the door. Grace looked over to see Bill Williamson, one of the senior partners.
‘Come in, come in.’ Grace stood up and walked around her desk and gave Bill a warm hug. He towered above her five-foot frame, even with her stilettos on. Releasing the embrace, Grace stared at him. ‘Bill, you never change. I swear you don’t look a day older than when you gave us that first lecture in law school, all those years ago.’
‘You mean back in the days when students appreciated their lecturers. Don’t remind me how long it’s been. It makes me feel old. This new generation of students is far too arrogant; think they know everything now because they can look things up on the Internet. They never stop to think how the content got there in the first place. Those search engines have a lot to answer for.’
Grace smiled as she sat back down.
‘So how does it feel to be here, instead of Dubai?’ Bill asked as he took one of the leather chairs.
‘Great. There’s a lot to do, of course, but what a fantastic opportunity. Do I have you to thank for putting in a good word for me?’
‘Now that would be telling, wouldn’t it.’ Bill winked at her. ‘Of course, you were always my star pupil. Now, though, I’m not the only who’s impressed by you. Several of the partners have taken notice of the work you’ve been doing in Dubai. So, let’s say that there was a consensus about asking you to lead this initiative.’
‘OK, stop, you’re making me blush.’ Grace leaned back in her chair.
Bill laughed. Grace thought again what a kind man he was and still very handsome with his grey tinged hair and rugged build. She imagined that he’d been very attractive in his younger years.
‘Well, I’d better leave you in peace. Going to see your mom this weekend?’
‘Yes.’ Grace looked down.
‘Dreadful business with your sister. You have all our sympathies. Now, don’t let this new venture take up all your energy and rob you of time with your mother. The months will go quickly.’
Grace felt herself start to well up. ‘Thanks, Bill, that means a lot to me.’
The rest of the afternoon passed quickly and by the time Grace opened the door to her furnished rental apartment, she was shattered. Jet lag was starting to kick in. All she wanted was a long soak in the bath and a gin and tonic. She put the prepared Italian meal from the local deli in the oven and set the timer. Walking back into the bedroom, she unpacked more of her case. On the bureau, she placed the photo of her, mom and Jennifer. The photo was
years old, but she liked it. It was the last time she remembered Jennifer actually being happy. She had missed out so much on the last years of her sister’s life, with living abroad and getting home so infrequently. The age gap and the fact they’d had different fathers didn’t help either. But above all else, there was the sense of guilt. Could she have done more to help her little sister, before it was too late?
Chapter 13
Charlie dropped Annie off at the station.
‘Thanks, Charlie, speak to you later.’ Annie leaned across and gave him a kiss. She put her hand on the car door and then turned back to him.
‘What?’ he asked, touching her arm.
‘Nothing, only I wish we could spend the day together – somewhere away from Westford, away from all the responsibilities.’ Annie knew it wasn’t possible. Now she was working on a new case, it was likely they’d have even less time together.
Charlie pushed her hair back from her face. ‘Soon, when Angie is better and I can leave her for a day or two. Maybe we could go away for a weekend to New York or Boston?’
‘I’d like that.’
Charlie kissed her and added, ‘So, tonight I’m tied up and might not get a chance to call you. Will I see you tomorrow night?’
‘Sure, we’ll make plans later. I’d better go.’ Annie got out of the car and watched while Charlie pulled away from the kerb.
‘Personal chauffer?’ she heard someone say and turned to see Ellison making his way from the parking lot. ‘Want to grab some coffee before we go up?’
‘Sure. I don’t expect Bronski will be in yet. I’ll get him one in case.’
‘That should soften the blow that you’re working with me now,’ Ellison said as they entered Starbucks.
‘Not sure that the captain intended it that way,’ Annie replied, as they got in line for the coffees.
‘Then I’ll have to make them both see how indispensable you are.’
Twenty minutes later, they walked into the station. Bronski was already at his desk, reading the pink message slips that had piled up.
‘Morning, sir, thought you might like some coffee.’ Annie passed her supervisor the cardboard cup, while Ellison went over to his own desk.
‘Keep spoiling me, Detective, I like it. So what did I miss yesterday? Anything new on the Hardman case?’ Bronski asked as he finally took his seat at his desk. He had a habit of standing up to read his messages.
Ellison pushed his chair back and glanced over at Annie. Before she could reply, he cut in. ‘Did you catch the news yesterday, Bronski?’
‘What news would that be? I was decorating all day. Never switch on the radio or TV when I’m off. Too much to do in the hours I have at home.’
Annie realised that it was the first time Bronski had referred to anything remotely domestic. He never talked about himself. It had been a little over two months since she’d first met him and she wasn’t even sure if he was married or not. It was embarrassingly late to ask now. She made a mental note to ask Ellison. Bronski seemed to be one of those completely self contained kind of guys. There was nothing remarkable about him or his appearance. He was pleasant enough and very considerate, but if you passed him on the street, you wouldn’t remember him.
Ellison raised an eyebrow. ‘Well, while you were up to your eyes in paint, wallpaper, or whatever, a priest from Sacred Heart Church was being murdered. The captain’s given me the lead and asked Macpherson to work with me.’
‘Makes sense,’ Bronski replied.
‘We’ll need to discuss how she allocates her time, as the captain also made it clear you’re still her supervisor,’ Ellison continued.
Bronski looked from one to the other. ‘A priest, huh? Tell me more. What’ve you got so far?’
Ellison and Annie explained where things were up to with the investigation before Ellison outlined the day ahead. ‘So, today we need to interview Marion Bannister and Tony Amato. He’s the father who took out a complaint against Father Bannister. We also need to see when the autopsy will be and whether Heaviley or Parker has anything yet. I also need some time at the computer to run through everyone we’ve interviewed so far, check out all the registrations of the cars in the parking lot and read through the other reports from the patrol officers.’
‘OK,’ Bronski responded, ‘I’m playing catch up today with messages and reports. So Macpherson, you can spend the day on the case. Perhaps we should review daily where things are up to.’
‘OK, thanks.’ Annie was pleased that today, at least, her time was sorted out. She wanted to stay on the case, yet being a guest in the squad, it wasn’t her call to make. She remembered again the email from her colleague Rob, describing her exchange counterpart, Wayne Sturgess and how well he was getting on in her job. She wondered if he felt like more than a guest. Her thinking was interrupted by the sound of the squad room door opening.
Franconi had arrived for the day. ‘So, I see you’re all in. Sorted out Macpherson’s time between you?’ Franconi approached Bronski’s desk, which was the nearest. Bronski confirmed they had. ‘Good.’ Franconi looked at Ellison and Annie. ‘When I’ve poured myself some coffee, you two can bring me up to date.’
The feedback didn’t take long. Ellison made a couple of calls when he got back to his desk. ‘I appreciate that, Mrs Bannister, we won’t take up too much of your time.’ He hung up the phone from the second call and turned to Annie. ‘Let’s go see her now and then pay a visit to Tony Amato. Heaviley has my cell, so does Parker. The autopsy is later this afternoon, about three o’clock. You want to come to that, Detective?’
‘Sure, I’ve been to a few in England. It would be interesting to see if there are any differences.’
‘Good. Looks like we have our day planned.’
*****
‘You were very discreet, about Father Bannister and any possible issues,’ Annie commented when they got back in the car after the visit to Marion Bannister.
‘Well, I couldn’t ask her outright if her son was a child molester,’ Ellison said as he put the key in the ignition. ‘I think if she knew anything, though, it would’ve come out.
‘I think so too. It’ll devastate the poor woman when the truth eventually becomes public,’ Annie remarked.
‘Depends how relevant that information turns out to be, as to whether it will come out or not.’
‘Of course,’ Annie replied. ‘I also think she was truthful about not knowing who the two teenagers were in the photo, or any of the children, for that matter.’
Ellison glanced over at her, as he turned right at the intersection. ‘Yeah, me too. She didn’t show any signs of recognition. Actually, thinking about it, there weren’t any photos of her, were there?’
‘No, there weren’t, now that you mention it. Do you think that was what was going through her mind?’ Annie asked, recalling the photo of herself with her mum and dad, on the day she had passed out of police training college. The smiles on their faces had said it all.
‘Who knows? But I know my mother would be insulted if I didn’t have a photo of her in my house. Actually, she’d be more than insulted, I think she’d kill me,’ Ellison laughed.
‘Yeah, it does seem strange, doesn’t it?’ Annie mused.
Anyway,’ Ellison continued, taking a quick glance at his watch, ‘we have time to visit Tony Amato before he goes off to lunch.’
‘Aware of his habits, are you?’ Annie remarked, knowing that Ellison hadn’t contacted him about their visit.
‘No, but most city workers take their breaks, especially the ones who work in the income tax section. We’ll soon find out if I’m right.’
Chapter 14
The receptionist didn’t ask about the purpose of the visit, simply putting a call through to Tony Amato. When she finished, she smiled at Ellison. ‘You�
��re in luck. He was about to go out for lunch.’
Ellison turned and winked at Annie. A couple of minutes later, Tony Amato came through the door. At over six feet tall, he looked more like a boxer or a club doorman than a tax inspector, Annie thought. His muscular build looked like he worked out, a lot.
Ellison stood up and introduced himself and Annie. ‘Is there somewhere quiet we can go?’ he queried.
‘Sure,’ came the reply. ‘Jackie, can you buzz us into the interview room. Do either of you want a drink?’ Amato asked, leading the way.
‘No, thanks, we’ll be having lunch when we get through here.’
Annie noticed that the man was completely at ease. In his line of work, he was probably used to speaking to detectives from the fraud section.
‘Thanks for seeing us, Mr Amato. We’re following up on the complaint you made about Father Brian Bannister. Have you heard that he was murdered yesterday?’ Ellison asked.
Amato sat back in his seat. ‘Probably got what was coming to him.’
If Ellison or Annie was surprised by the reply, neither showed it. ‘Why do you say that?’ Ellison queried.
‘I’m sure the guy was perverted, priest or no priest. In fact, from what you read in the papers, the perverts are more likely to be from the priesthood. I don’t like guys who prey on kids and I’m certainly not going to let it happen to my kid, or anyone else’s, if I can help it. That’s why I wrote to the bishop. The guy gave me the creeps.’ Amato sat back and folded his arms across his chest.
Det Annie Macpherson 02 - Programmed To Kill Page 5