Det Annie Macpherson 02 - Programmed To Kill

by Speake, Barbara Fagan

  Now in other news …’

  Enough news. Five minutes to chill, with some cold juice from the refrigerator and a quick lounge on the balcony. My apartment may not be as plush as Patrick’s, but I definitely have a better view.

  If I shut my eyes, Patrick is there, taking his last breath. The police will be busy gathering evidence. The TV documentaries say there are always traces left. I’m not stupid. I know about these things and I’ve been meticulous. They won’t find a single thing.

  Victim three knows he’s next. Wonder what he’s thinking, right now.

  Chapter 26

  Grace Marks stared out of her office window at the vibrancy that was New York City. Down below there were throngs of people, some walking with urgency, others meandering as if they had all the time in the world. Then there were the corner sellers of hot dogs and giant pretzels and now the addition of carts hawking smoothies for the health conscious. Although the noise was attenuated somewhat on the fifteenth floor, the characteristic sound of the New York cabbies, blasting their horns was still audible. She smiled. It felt good to be back in the States. It was hard to feel really at home and completely relaxed in a foreign country, with all the cultural differences. Still, her professional life kept her very busy and most of the time she was socialising with other Americans anyway. She couldn’t help but think that if she did a good job on this project, there might be an opening for her here. Taking one last look down, she settled behind her desk again.

  The knock on Grace’s door made her look up and smile at the sight of Bill Williamson.

  ‘Just checking how you’re settling back in.’ He placed his rugged frame down on the single chair in front of her desk.

  ‘That’s kind of you Bill. It’s only been three days, but I’m feeling quite at home already. Next week I’m doing interviews, and the other offices will be fully equipped. The following week we should be operational.’ She smiled at her former mentor.

  ‘Great. I knew you’d be on top of things. I was wondering if I could take you to lunch. There’s a new sushi bar a block over. I’ve been waiting for an opportunity to try it.’ His warm smile made her reciprocate.

  ‘Sushi it is then.’

  ‘Good, shall we say a half hour from now?’

  Grace turned back to her computer screen. She was looking forward to some time with Bill away from the office. The half hour passed quickly and the walk over to the restaurant gave her a chance to stretch her legs, still recovering from the long flight home.

  ‘You’ll have to show me what to do. This is a new one on me,’ Grace said as they took their seats at the sushi bar.

  Within minutes Bill had given her the run down on every meal coming past. When the sequence repeated itself, he took one of the meals down. ‘Here, try this.’ He lifted the lid and both dug into the assorted fish on the tray.

  ‘Wow, this is delicious.’ The next twenty minutes was a treat of new taste sensations for Grace. Finally she felt completely satiated. As Bill continued to eye up the conveyor, she laughed. ‘No more for me, please.’

  ‘OK, I’ll let you off. Let’s move over to a booth and have some green tea. I always find it refreshing after.’ Once their order was taken, they both relaxed. ‘So, are you going home tomorrow?’ Bill asked.

  Grace smiled. ‘I haven’t lived at my mom’s house for nearly eighteen years, but funnily enough, I do still think of it as home. Although I must admit I’m not looking forward to it as much as I normally would. Mom has hinted that we need to sort through Jennifer’s things. I don’t think she can face doing it on her own. I’m not sure I’m ready either.’

  ‘The inquest must’ve been difficult for both of you.’ Bill put his hand over hers. The gesture was very moving, protective. Not surprisingly, the touch also made her blush, which she hoped Bill hadn’t noticed.

  ‘Somehow, it’s hard to accept that someone you love took her own life. I guess if we’re really honest, we should have seen that it was going to end that way for Jennifer.’ She felt the tears welling up but it was good to share her feelings.

  ‘So things had been difficult for Jennifer for quite a while then?’ Bill asked.

  ‘Yes, although being abroad, I never got the full impact of it. There was nearly nine years between Jen and me. My dad died when I was still a toddler. Mom married Ed three years later and then a few years after that Jen came along. I was so excited having a baby sister. I used to love dressing her up. She was like my little doll.’

  ‘Did you ever feel left out with Jen being Ed’s child?’

  Grace sat back for a moment. It was almost as if Bill had read her thoughts. ‘I guess a bit, maybe, as I got a little older, became a teenager and Jen was still the cute little kid in the house. My stepdad doted on her. Well he would, wouldn’t he? She was his real daughter. He did adopt me, though, a year or so after they were married. I think my Mom insisted on it and I gather that Ed didn’t take much persuading. But sometimes, I’d look at the three of them together and feel the odd one out. Know what I mean?’

  ‘Sure.’ Bill looked at her with his piercing blue eyes, which held the kind of tenderness that Grace craved.

  ‘When I got older, I would visit my dad’s grave on my own and talk to him. Tell him that I wished he were there for me the way Ed was for Jen. I used to dream that there was a mistake, that he wasn’t dead and that he came back for me. Sounds crazy, doesn’t it?’

  ‘Of course not. I imagine it was quite natural and probably quite therapeutic,’ Bill said soothingly.

  Grace put her other hand over his. ‘Thanks for listening to me, Bill.’ But then she drew her hand away, gently. ‘I don’t want you thinking I’m morose all the time and not up to the job, you know.’ Grace suddenly realised that she shouldn’t presume on their friendship.

  Bill laughed. ‘You’re one of the best lawyers of your generation, that I do know.’ Then he touched her hand again. ‘We’re all human, Grace. Help your mom. I’m sure it’ll help you too.’

  Chapter 27

  It felt familiar to be working with Bronski again, although there wasn’t the friendly banter she got from Ellison. No innuendo either, which Annie missed. Ellison was growing on her. He had lots of qualities she admired and was easy to be with. He and Charlie were so different from Paul, but she had to stop dwelling on her ex-fiancé.

  ‘I thought you were abandoning me, Detective.’

  ‘Sorry sir, following instructions from the captain.’

  ‘I’m only teasing. Ellison is a good detective. You’ll learn a lot from him. We’ve worked together for over five years now. Did you know he worked in Vice for several years?’ Bronski asked.

  ‘No, he’s never mentioned it.’

  ‘They didn’t want to lose him. Anyway, when we get to the law firm, we need to interview the partner, Atkinson, first and then the secretary who spoke to the building supervisor. She set the whole thing in motion.’

  ‘Elizabeth Mason,’ Annie said from memory.

  ‘Hmm, Elizabeth, like your Queen.’

  Annie let that one go. She didn’t really want to get into a discussion about the Royal Family. She respected the Queen and had admired the late Queen Mother and the late Princess Diana. She didn’t think much of the Queen’s children. Maybe the grandchildren would fare better.

  The law firm of Atkinson & Mearns must be fairly successful Annie thought, as they pulled into the parking lot. The two partners had designated spaces as did the office manager and there were six spaces for client parking. The offices were in a converted house with the wraparound porch that Annie loved. Four white painted Adirondack chairs were positioned on either side of the main door. Although the house was on a busy main road, Annie guessed that at one time a wealthy family would have lived in it. It looked like it had at least three floors, as well as a basement.


  Clive Atkinson, the senior partner in the law firm, greeted them on their arrival. ‘Let’s go into my office.’

  Annie noted that he looked to be in his mid fifties, probably at least ten years older than Mearns. Even though the day was warm, he was dressed in a suit with a shirt and tie and she wondered how he managed to stay looking fresh, without any air conditioning in his office. On the walls were the framed certificates detailing his qualifications. Annie took her notebook out. Clive Atkinson was fidgety: straightening his tie, touching items on his desk and unable to find a comfortable position in his chair. Miss Mason had made coffee and he took a large gulp before anyone spoke.

  ‘We realise that this is a difficult time for you and for the firm, Mr Atkinson,’ Bronski began. ‘It’s important that we establish events in the last twenty-four hours of Patrick Mearns’ life. Perhaps we could start with Tuesday morning, the last day he was in work, presumably.’

  Atkinson swallowed hard. ‘I’m not the best person to do that, Detective. Miss Mason keeps his diary. I can only say that I saw him briefly around nine o’clock that morning. Then I was busy throughout the day and went home right after an appointment in Westford. I never came back here. Miss Mason also acts as our office manager so she locks up when the last person has left, unless she is instructed otherwise. She told me this morning that Patrick left at five thirty as usual on Tuesday, but I expect you’ll be confirming that with her yourself.’

  ‘Yes, when we finish talking to you,’ Bronski replied. ‘What kind of legal work was Patrick Mearns involved in?’

  Atkinson leaned back in his chair, seemingly more relaxed with this line of questioning. ‘The firm does corporate work, large property conveyancing, mergers, acquisitions, that sort of thing.’

  ‘Was Patrick Mearns working on anything controversial, something that might have put him in any danger?’

  Atkinson repositioned himself and leant his elbows on his desk, taking his time before replying. ‘I wouldn’t think so. We work for large companies, so unless there was a disgruntled employee, I can’t think of any connection between his legal work and a motive for murder. That’s what we’re talking about, isn’t it, murder?’

  ‘We’re investigating a homicide, but there are aspects of it that we’re not able to disclose.’ Bronski paused and then changed tack. ‘Did Patrick Mearns know Father Brian Bannister?’

  Atkinson’s jaw dropped slightly and his eyes widened. ‘The priest who was murdered? Is there a connection between the two cases?’

  ‘Again, sir, I’m not at liberty to discuss that in any detail. I can say that we’re looking into the possibility that the two may be connected.’ Bronski’s tone of voice was even.

  ‘He never mentioned him to me, but then again, his death was only announced a few days ago and Patrick and I never really spoke at any length in that time, so I don’t know if he knew him or not.’ Atkinson went quiet for a moment, rubbing his jaw.

  ‘Sir, is there something on your mind?’ Annie asked.

  ‘I was thinking, Patrick had a few pro bono cases. He used to be a criminal defence lawyer, but there wasn’t enough money in it, so he came to work for me about eight years ago. I made him a partner three years later and we changed the name of the firm. We never discussed his pro bono work, as I have no expertise in that area of the law. I know he wanted to keep his hand in on criminal work. The agreement was that as long as it didn’t interfere with the firm’s work, he could get on with it. It’s probably a long shot, but he may have known the priest in that capacity.’ Atkinson hesitated before he finished his thought. ‘I’m not implying, of course, that the priest needed a criminal lawyer, I’m trying to think of any possible connection to this office.’

  ‘How do we find that out?’ Annie queried, amused that the lawyer was being so cautious, even though both men were dead.

  ‘Miss Mason will know. She handled the administration work for his pro bono cases, as well as the firm’s work. Do you want me to ask her now?’

  ‘We’ll take care of it,’ Bronski replied. ‘How well did you know Patrick Mearns on a personal basis?’

  Atkinson drank more of his coffee before he leaned back in his seat. ‘I liked Patrick, don’t get me wrong and he was a good lawyer. Professionally we were great colleagues. On a personal basis, we didn’t have anything in common. He wasn’t married for a start and as far as I know wasn’t in a relationship, so we never invited him over for supper or anything like that. My wife prefers to entertain couples, so the conversation isn’t monopolised by discussions about work. I guess that’s fair enough. I’m a golfer when I can get away from the office and he hated golf.’ Atkinson pushed the coffee away. ‘So I can’t really help much about his personal life. Our conversations were mostly about work, although even in that regard, we had our own areas of expertise, so we didn’t handle cases jointly.’

  Annie considered whether that rang true or not. After finding the bondage equipment at the apartment, it could be that Atkinson knew, but wasn’t prepared to implicate himself. Then she considered how little she really knew Bronski. He revealed few details about himself or his home life and most of their conversations were about the cases they were working on, so Atkinson could be telling the truth. It was possible to work with people every day and not really know them. She was interested in seeing later what Bronski made of him.

  ‘Thanks, Mr Atkinson, that’s all for now. We may need to get a search warrant in the next day or so if we need to access any of Mr Mearns’ files.’

  Clive Atkinson frowned. ‘Will that really be necessary, Detective Bronski? Things will be difficult enough around here, without that disruption.’

  ‘If we need to follow up any leads, it may be unavoidable. We’ll let you know.’ Bronski stood up and Atkinson walked out with them to Elizabeth Mason’s desk. He shook hands with the two detectives before retreating to his own room.

  Chapter 28

  ‘Can I get you another drink before we start?’ Elizabeth Mason asked.

  ‘No thanks,’ Bronski replied for both of them. ‘We’d like to get on with our questions.’

  Mearns’ former secretary led them into a small interview room with a coffee table and four comfortable chairs. Looking around the room, Annie guessed that at one time this would have been a child’s room, taking a single bed and minimal furniture. Elizabeth Mason straightened her skirt, which fully covered her knees. Annie guessed she was in her late thirties and would have described her as plain. There was nothing stunning about her features and she wore no makeup. Her blouse was buttoned nearly to the collar. They’d already agreed that Annie would lead on the interview. ‘Miss Mason, we know this is a distressing time for you, but it’s important that we establish Patrick Mearns’ movements on his last day at work and whether there was anything unusual.’

  ‘I understand. Patrick arrived before me on Tuesday, about 8:30. I was in about fifteen minutes later and he already had the coffee machine on. He has, sorry, I mean had his own key.’ She stopped suddenly. ‘Oh no. Was his key found in his apartment? Only if it were taken by his murderer, then …’ Her hand went to her mouth.

  ‘Miss Mason, we’ll check the inventory with our forensics team. If the key has been taken for examination, we’ll make sure it gets back to you.’

  ‘I’ll have to get the locks changed if the key is missing,’ the woman replied, her eyes darting about.

  ‘That may be a precaution the firm would like to take anyway. Perhaps you should discuss it with Mr Atkinson later,’ Bronski suggested. Elizabeth Mason made a note for herself.

  ‘So, you were starting to tell us about his last day at work,’ Annie prompted.

  ‘Yes, Patrick had an appointment at nine and then one at four o’clock. The one in the morning was a case he’d been working on for some time and it was coming to an end. It only lasted a half hour. T
he afternoon was a new client.’

  ‘Was there anything unusual about either of those appointments?’

  ‘I don’t think so. Patrick always brought clients into reception at the end of their appointments and discussed the paperwork that would follow. They all know that I do the administration. In each case, the client appeared happy with how things were going. There was nothing in Patrick’s manner that indicated any problems.’

  ‘What about his lunch hour? Did he go out or stay in?’

  Miss Mason’s expression changed slightly. ‘I guess that was different. Usually I get sandwiches in for us, but on Tuesday he went out. I presumed he was meeting someone, although he didn’t say and he was out of the office for a couple of hours. As Mr Atkinson was also out, I locked up the office for a few minutes while I went to get a sandwich, which I ate at my desk. I don’t like leaving the office empty. Usually Patrick warns me in advance if he’s going to be out, especially if I’m going to be on my own. He didn’t this time, so I can only guess that the lunch was a last minute decision.’

  ‘You’ve no idea if he was meeting someone or where he went?’ Annie queried.

  ‘No, Patrick told me what he wanted to tell me and I never asked. It wasn’t my place to.’