Det Annie Macpherson 02 - Programmed To Kill

by Speake, Barbara Fagan

  ‘That’s a thought. We need to talk to Mearns’ previous employers. Find out if he’s acted for Bannister before. I’ll ring Bronski now, see if he wants to get on to that.’ Annie retrieved her cellphone from her handbag.

  ‘Party time,’ Ellison remarked as he spotted the mourners leaving the church. He put his coffee in the holder and the key in the ignition. ‘Let’s see if anyone else turns up at the burial.’

  ‘Wait a minute. Look over there.’ Ellison glanced out the window. ‘There,’ Annie pointed. ‘Isn’t that Frances Amato? What’s she doing here?’ The woman was walking away from the church, dressed in black and it was obvious she’d been to the funeral.

  ‘I’ll pull the car up, so you can talk to her. I must admit I didn’t notice her in the church.’

  Annie opened the car window, but the woman kept walking. ‘Mrs Amato,’ Annie called after her.

  The woman turned around. ‘What do you want? I’ve not done anything wrong.’

  Annie opened the door and got out while Ellison idled the engine. ‘No, we were wondering what you’re doing here. Does your husband know you were going to the funeral?’

  Frances Amato bristled at the mention of her husband. ‘Father Bannister was our parish priest. I believe as many parishioners as possible should attend his funeral. It’s a mark of respect.’

  ‘I’m not sure your husband would see it that way,’ Annie commented.

  ‘There are many things my husband and I don’t agree on, but that’s not police business. Now, if there’s nothing else, I’d like to get going.’ The woman was more assertive than the last time they’d met. Annie moved back and let her pass. She hesitated a moment before getting back into the car.

  ‘That’s the last car in the funeral procession. I’d better follow it,’ Ellison said as Annie put her belt on. He signalled to pull out behind it.

  ‘Frances Amato took exception at being asked about attending. Wonder if that’ll be the only surprise we have today.’

  ‘Somehow, I doubt it,’ Ellison answered.

  The burial itself was mainly attended by relatives and close friends of Marion Bannister. Ellison scanned the crowd while the bishop started his readings. Then he nudged Annie when he saw Tony Amato and John Merton approaching the assembled mourners, as the burial service was finishing. They were holding what appeared to be flowers, covered in green plastic.

  Annie could see that Ellison was on alert. She whispered to him, ‘First the wife, now the husband.’

  ‘Something’s going to kick off. He’s nothing like the wife.’

  The two men stood solemnly until the bishop finished his readings and blessed the casket as it was lowered. Marion Bannister, supported by one of the men from the funeral parlour, picked up some soil and threw it into the grave, along with a single white rose. Several other mourners followed suit and then the crowd started to disperse. Marion Bannister walked away supported by the bishop.

  Matthew Lansdowne and Harry Conlon also turned to leave, just as Amato and Merton stepped forward, ripping the plastic sheeting from the flowers. The noise made the mayor and the chief hesitate. Seconds later they witnessed the two men dropping something into the open burial plot, before they hurried away. Annie and Ellison reached the edge of the burial plot at the same time as the mayor and the chief. The two foot long wreath of white lilies, perfectly positioned on top of the coffin, spelled out the word PERVERT.

  *****

  Frances Amato walked home, furious at being stopped by Detective Macpherson. How dare those detectives. They didn’t know Brian, what he was really like: gentle, understanding, caring. They want to ruin his reputation, just like Tony. Her anger hadn’t dissipated by the time she arrived home and got changed out of her funeral clothes. Though she’d wanted to attend the burial as well, she hadn’t dared. She had to be back home in time for Tony arriving. As she slipped into her jeans, she glanced at her husband’s photo on their dresser. ‘Why couldn’t you have left him alone? You had to threaten him. You were jealous because he really liked Dominic and me. You don’t know anything about friendship; always have to read more into things. Get your friends riled up as well. I should tell those detectives what you’re really capable of.’ Then her words stopped, as she heard the sound of a car engine.

  Looking out the bedroom window, she saw her husband and John Merton getting out of Tony’s car. The two men were laughing about something and Tony was patting Merton on the back as they started to walk up the path. She hurried down the stairs, ready to greet them.

  Chapter 41

  Bronski was on the phone when his two colleagues returned. He glanced up as he ended the conversation. ‘Thanks, you’ve been very helpful.’ Putting the phone down, he waited until he had their full attention. ‘Well that was interesting. Good instinct on your part, Detective Macpherson. Mearns’ former secretary, Lucy Sanders, recalled Father Bannister immediately. There were previous accusations and Patrick Mearns had handled them. But there was something else.’

  ‘What?’ Annie asked, intrigued.

  ‘The two men were also friends. Father Bannister didn’t simply happen to find a lawyer to act for him; the two of them had known each other for years. Mearns told her this the first time Bannister telephoned for an appointment. Their personal friendship didn’t seem to be an issue for Mearns in his professional dealings.’

  ‘Will the firm let us see copies of the files?’ Ellison asked.

  ‘She said we’ll need a search warrant, but I caught the captain before he left for a meeting and I’ve done the paperwork, so it should be ready this afternoon. I was speaking to her again to ask her to get the files ready. ’

  ‘So, the disgruntled parents factor is starting to be a frontrunner,’ Ellison mused. ‘We checked Amato out for any previous. I better check Merton.’

  Annie left the room while Ellison started interrogating the databases. She took her phone out when she was in the restroom hoping for a message from Charlie. There was nothing. Minutes later, opening the squad room door, Annie caught the tail end of a conversation between Bronski and Ellison. They both looked up as she sat down at her desk.

  ‘Do you want to tell her, or should I?’ Bronski asked.

  ‘Be my guest,’ came the reply from Ellison.

  ‘John Merton has an arrest record: aggravated assault, going back to when he was a teenager.’

  Annie looked at the two of them. ‘Don’t tell me the victim was a priest?’

  Ellison laughed, addressing Bronski. ‘I told you she’d get it in one. We’re going to give you that one, Macpherson, as you’re so close and because you’re not a Catholic, so wouldn’t understand these things. Not a priest, but as close as you can get. It was a brother, in fact Brother Jonathan.’

  Annie gasped audibly.

  ‘Tell her the rest,’ Bronski coaxed Ellison.

  ‘From the arrest notes, Merton went to the seminary with his mother and accused Brother Jonathan of abusing his younger brother, who was aged seven at the time. Merton was a teenager, quite a strong fit kid and a football player, as described by Brother Jonathan in the record. There was a heated exchange during which Brother Jonathan, apparently, tried to brush the whole thing off. That incensed the teenager, who went for him. The mother stopped it getting more serious, but one of the priests dialled 911 and Merton was arrested at his house later that day. There was a trial date set and it was all going through until the clergyman withdrew the charges. The whole thing was eventually dropped.’

  ‘So we’re going back what, twenty years?’ Annie asked.

  ‘Twenty-two to be exact.’

  ‘So that would be before Bannister became a priest?’

  ‘Not sure, we need to check his ordination in the bishop’s file. He was a seminarian first, of course, so Brother Jonathan could have known him for a few ye
ars before he was ordained,’ Ellison suggested.

  ‘OK, I’ll check the file from the bishop,’ Annie offered. ‘Baxter never mentioned Brother Jonathan, as I recall.’

  ‘No, but did we give him the name?’ Bronski asked.

  Annie got out her notebook. ‘I haven’t made a note of that, but I can check again with Baxter. I wonder what Brother Jonathan has on his computer. Funny that he never retrieved anything from Bannister’s room before we searched it.’

  ‘Who knows? Maybe he did: maybe anything that would incriminate him, but left stuff that would incriminate Bannister,’ Ellison offered. ‘I’m going to look him up now. Macpherson, get hold of Baxter and tell him what we’ve found. See if Brother Jonathan has ever come up in his inquiries.’

  ‘Sure, but shouldn’t we tell Detective Bronski about the burial flowers first and about who else attended the funeral?’

  *****

  Lansdowne was looking for a polite time to leave the Bannister house. Two elderly ladies, probably relatives, were comforting Marion Bannister. She had been approaching the funeral car when the two men opened the wreath. He wondered how she would have reacted if she’d seen it. One of the cemetery attendants had managed to remove it as soon as the two men hurried away. Since being in the house, Lansdowne had only spoken to Marion Bannister briefly and she showed no sign of recognising him, other than seeing him in the papers and the local TV as mayor. The chief had already slipped away. His turn was next. He peered out of the window, relieved to see his driver arrive. He was in the car moments later.

  ‘Back to the office, sir?’

  ‘No, I’ll work from home for the rest of the day. Drop me there.’ Lansdowne had access to the driver every day, but he only used him occasionally, not wanting to give up his privacy. He didn’t like anyone, not even his wife, knowing his whereabouts all day, every day. He loosened his tie in the car.

  Walking into his living room, he poured himself a large scotch and took his tie off. No Monica, no Lydia – pure bliss. He drank the glass in one go and then lay down on the couch to shut his eyes for a few minutes. A half hour later he woke in a daze. His cellphone was ringing in his suit jacket. He finally found it and answered. It was Monica wanting to tell him all about Cape Cod. He listened and replied with little enthusiasm, finally shrugging it off with the explanation of the difficult funeral he had attended earlier. Once he finished speaking to his wife, he decided it was time to get an update from the private detective. Retrieving the second cellphone from his briefcase, he made the call. ‘What’s the story?’ Lansdowne asked as soon as the man recognised his voice.

  ‘Nothing after age twenty-one: no tax returns, no driver’s licence, no employment records, nothing. He seems to have vanished into thin air.’

  ‘Not possible.’

  ‘I’ve tried everything.’

  ‘Sorry pal, I don’t pay for failure.’ Lansdowne flicked his phone closed and deleted the number from the list. He wouldn’t need to contact the guy again. Why had Mearns trusted someone so obviously incompetent? People don’t simply disappear into thin air. Getting up from the couch, he poured another scotch, furious that he was getting nowhere and refusing to believe that he was in any way vulnerable. Then he reached into his jacket pocket and retrieved the napkin with the details. No point in keeping that.

  Chapter 42

  Grace was in early. Having the car cut her journey time and the office had plenty of parking spaces. She was used to the Beetle now and found it a comfortable car to drive. Walking down the corridor, she noticed Bill’s door ajar and the light on, so she knocked.

  ‘Grace, good weekend? Car OK for you?’ Bill asked as the door opened.

  ‘Yes, Bill, the car’s great. I can’t thank you enough.’

  ‘Nonsense, you’re doing me a favour. Come in. Let me pour you some coffee. So how was the weekend, your mother well?’

  Grace came in the room and shut the door behind her. ‘Are you sure you want to hear this?’

  ‘Of course, now sit down and tell me.’

  Grace settled into the comfy high backed leather chair. She was glad it was early, although she was conscious she needed to get to her emails and be ready for her morning meeting. Equally, she always welcomed her conversations with Bill. She could be completely at ease with him. ‘It was mixed really. It was lovely to see my mother and she seems to be bearing up. We went to the cemetery on Saturday. But, and I would only say this to you, Bill, the whole thing makes me angry, not sad.’

  ‘How so?’

  ‘I guess, because it’s such an incredible waste. Jen shouldn’t be lying in the ground. She should be a successful young woman, enjoying life.’

  ‘But she wasn’t enjoying life, was she?’ Bill remarked gently, as he passed her a china cup and saucer.

  ‘No, that’s true, but I still can’t fathom out where it all went so wrong for her. I keep racking my brain about what she was like as a child. Could we have foreseen the depression or the eating disorder? On the other hand, she was always the nervous type, craved attention, spoiled even, but I thought she’d grow out of it. My other regret is that I was so far away when she had her breakdown. I wasn’t any use to her.’ Grace took her first sip of the coffee. It tasted good.

  ‘You can’t blame yourself, Grace. Maybe there are some things we’re never meant to figure out.’ Bill looked wistful and Grace debated whether to tell him about her trip to the psychiatric unit. In the end, she decided she would.

  ‘I made a detour on the way back late yesterday afternoon. I stopped off at the psychiatric unit where she killed herself.’

  ‘That can’t have been easy.’ Bill put his cup and saucer down on the coffee table and leaned forward.

  ‘No, it wasn’t. I think the staff were very wary with me being a lawyer. They probably think I’ll sue them for not discharging their duty of care to her properly. The truth is, Bill, she must have wanted to die. No one could’ve stopped her. All the years of treatment had never made her well. I think they were fighting a losing battle with her, if I’m really honest with myself. Of course, I could never say that to my mother. It would break her heart. She would blame herself for letting Jen go there.’

  ‘Sad though,’ Bill mused.

  ‘Yes. One of the nursing assistants was nearly in tears while I went through Jen’s room. I looked through the clothes in her closet and in the drawers. In the end, I decided to let the unit destroy them. Somehow they smelled of hospital to me and I didn’t want them in my own apartment. Mom has a closet full of Jen’s clothes at home, which still need to be sorted out. I couldn’t see the point in adding any more. Does that sound heartless?’

  ‘Of course not. These things have to be done, although they’re never easy. I only cleared out my wife’s clothes from the closets a few weeks ago. At first, I pictured her in each of the outfits and remembered times she wore them. Eventually, I had to be ruthless. It was too upsetting to carry on like that.’

  ‘Wow, what a conversation to be having at the start of the working week. We’ll both be in tears in a minute.’

  ‘You’re right.’ Bill said. ‘Tell you what, let’s have lunch upstairs later and you can tell me the rest.’

  ‘It’s a date,’ replied Grace, as she put her cup and saucer down and picked up her briefcase.

  The planning meeting started promptly and no one was late. Grace had ordered coffees, pastries and fresh fruit for everyone as a gesture of welcome. From the introductions and the way the team seemed to gel readily, Grace knew that she’d made some good decisions. Her presentation was well organised. She outlined the key points in the background to the acquisition and the merger and the key tasks facing the new firm and her team in making the transition as smooth as possible. The legal work had to run parallel to the day-to-day operation of the new company. She saw enthusiasm on the faces of each
one of the lawyers as they left the conference room.

  The rest of the morning flew by. Grace had emails from Dubai as she was still monitoring some of her old workload, an undertaking she was now starting to regret. She’d give that another couple of weeks and then make it clear that queries should be addressed to the relevant partner in Dubai. She needed to be concentrating exclusively on the new project.

  Bill phoned her around lunchtime. ‘Hungry yet?’

  The firm’s restaurant was one of the better ones in the city – used for staff and important clients. Bill directed her to the section with waitress service. Grace ordered lobster salad and Bill went for a steak sandwich. Grace stuck to water in the middle of the day, while Bill ordered a glass of pinot noir.

  ‘Interesting brunch we had on Sunday,’ Grace began. ‘Jen’s old boyfriend joined us.’

  ‘Serious boyfriend?’ Bill asked.

  ‘Sounded like it. He talked about her in an animated way. I was jealous. No one’s ever spoken about me like that.’

  ‘I find that hard to believe, young lady. If it hasn’t happened yet, and I doubt that, it’s only a matter of time.’

  Grace blushed and turned the conversation back to her impressions of Barry Ainscough. ‘He was very pleasant. He didn’t talk a lot about himself, kept steering the conversation back to Jen. I got the impression that he’s been in love with her all these years. He said they’d talked about getting engaged.’ Bill raised an eyebrow and Grace responded. ‘Yes, precisely. That was news to me and Mom, although she’s been saying that he would have made a great son-in-law.’