When it was over, the man put everything in his backpack, scanning the room in case he’d missed anything. Then, slowly he walked back down the stairs and into the basement again to remove the alternative set of numbers from the alarm system. Thank you, Mrs Lansdowne. Retracing his steps, he let himself out through the back door, pocketing the key. It was dark outside but the breeze had died down. No one was there to witness the wide smile across his face on the way back to the car.
Entering his apartment just before dawn, he placed the backpack down on some newspapers, directly in front of the safe. The safe already contained the knife he’d used on both Bannister and Mearns, still wrapped in a cloth. He touched the cloth gently, as if it were holding a sacred object. Unwrapping it carefully, he placed the second knife in the folds. Then he retrieved the cellphone and it joined the other two. Next, the gun was positioned alongside the other objects. Its presence alone had been enough to secure co-operation without a single shot being fired. With Lansdowne the gun wasn’t even needed. Resetting the combination, he ran his fingers down the door of the safe. It finally held the objects to prove he’d accomplished his mission and kept the promises made. Sure the knives and the phones were evidence. So what? Nothing else would link him to the three murders. If the police came calling – well, he would deal with it at the time. They would need good grounds to search his apartment. They didn’t have that.
He changed into his running gear and stuffed the brown uniform into the backpack. As always the appearance was of someone training for a marathon. The uniform was disposed of some five miles away from his apartment, before the effects of the training session were even felt. A different dumpster was located for the backpack. A light drizzle started as his apartment came into view. It felt like a cleansing rain, just like the shower he would have when he was back inside; the final part of the ritual. This morning his running was lighter, like a man who had everything he’d ever wanted. Well, almost everything.
Chapter 45
Annie was the first to arrive in the squad room. She debated whether to get some Starbucks coffee and then decided to make one in the kitchen. There were a couple of pink slips on her desk, which she left for the moment. As the kettle boiled, she heard the squad room door open.
Seconds later, Ellison popped his head into the kitchen. ‘Morning Detective.’
‘Morning, ready for some coffee?’
‘Always ready for anything from you,’ he responded.
Annie smiled as he came into the room, pleased she hadn’t gone across the road for coffee. She poured the two drinks and handed him one, while they stood by the counter. ‘Thanks for the meal last night, Dave. You kept me from drowning in my sorrows.’
‘We aren’t all like that … heart breakers. So, I take it, still no word from the captain.’
‘No,’ Annie blushed. ‘I can’t help feeling like a fool.’
Ellison put his coffee down and took her by the shoulders. ‘Detective Macpherson, you are anything but …’
The gesture was very tender and Annie appreciated it.
They both heard the squad room door open again and Ellison dropped his arms. The footsteps were Franconi’s. They gave each other an embarrassed grin and filed out of the kitchen, Annie hoping their conversation hadn’t been overheard.
‘Morning Detectives,’ Franconi said as he used his key to open his office door. ‘Bronski updated me last night and I spoke to the chief. Come in a minute.’ They followed Franconi in, taking seats. ‘So, the chief,’ Franconi started, reaching for a paperclip, ‘he was none too pleased with the stunt those two fathers pulled yesterday at the burial. He’s anticipating a complaint from Marion Bannister, the bishop or maybe the mayor. I understand it was right at the end when most people were walking to their cars. That right?’
Annie answered. ‘The main witnesses to their antics were the chief, the mayor and us. Marion Bannister was almost back to the funeral car by then, escorted by the bishop. We were taken by surprise too, seeing Tony Amato and John Merton.’ Ellison nodded in agreement when Annie finished.
‘So how do you rate those two as possible suspects? Only it seems strange to me that they’d turn up like that if they were guilty of anything. Maybe they simply wanted to make a statement. Although they must be stupid, with so many cops around.’
Annie glanced at Ellison and then answered. ‘Maybe that’s what they want us to think.’ She hesitated. ‘Paradoxical intention, I believe is the term.’
Franconi stared at her. ‘What’s that in American, Detective?’
‘Doing the opposite of what is expected in a situation. You know, like laughing at a funeral rather than crying when you’re really upset. I think it happens naturally sometimes. Psychologists sometimes use it as a behavioural technique.’
‘Macpherson, you never stop amazing me. Anyway, I’ll take your word for it,’ Franconi replied. ‘Why don’t you two pay the gentlemen another visit today? Tell them we’re considering taking action against them – that you’re on to that, what was it, paradoxical intention?’
‘We’ll do that,’ Ellison answered. ‘While we’re at it, we may visit Frances Amato again. We thought it strange that she turned up at the funeral, given her husband’s feelings.’
‘Maybe she’s embarrassed by his behaviour and is trying to balance things out,’ Franconi suggested. ‘Let me know if anything comes of it.’
Bronski walked into the squad room, as the two came out of Franconi’s office. He raised an eyebrow. ‘Anything new?’
‘We’re going to pay Amato and Merton another visit after what they did yesterday. The chief is expecting a complaint,’ Ellison answered.
‘Right.’ Bronski stood at his desk flicking through his pink slips.
Annie was doing the same, sitting down at hers. One of the messages was from Dennis Cullen, the ex-husband of Angela Goodman. Annie wondered what that could be about. She glanced over at Bronski. ‘I’ve got a message from Dennis Cullen,’ she said.
‘Me too. Want me to return the call?’
‘Up to you,’ Annie replied.
Bronski picked up his phone and dialled.
Annie was silently cursing herself. She mustn’t let what was happening between her and Charlie interfere with an ongoing investigation. She couldn’t help thinking that Dennis Cullen could be at the hospital right now, maybe in the same room as Charlie. The thought of him made her heart ache. Stop it.
‘No answer, I’ll try again later.’
Annie read the other pink slip. It was a message from Christine James, whom she’d met weeks ago in Mario’s Italian restaurant at Franconi’s invitation. Annie had thought of the woman again when she was with Charlie at Mario’s last week. So much had changed in that time with Charlie. She re-read Christine’s message and remembered that Franconi thought the two of them might hit it off. For once, he was right. Annie had enjoyed the meal and meeting Christine. Bronski also knew her and her partner, Michael Turner, so Annie decided that she’d take her phone into the rest room to return the call. Bronski might wonder why she was talking to Christine James. ‘Ellison, I’ll be a couple of minutes. When do you want to go and see Amato and Merton?’
‘Ten minutes or so, after I’ve sorted through these emails.’
Annie was glad that the restroom was empty. This one was more out of the way so probably not first choice for most of the women on the floor. Annie dialled the number on the slip and Christine answered. ‘Annie, thanks for getting back to me. I’ve been feeling guilty about not ringing you since the night we had dinner with you. Both Michael and I enjoyed meeting you.’
‘Thanks, Christine. I enjoyed the evening too. In fact I was thinking of you the other night. I was in Mario’s again. I was thinking that I should have rung you by now.’
‘Don’t worry about that. Look I know what it’s like
to be a stranger somewhere. I’m sure you’re settling in and that you’re being kept busy. Only I wondered if you’d like to have an evening out with me, my mom and my sister, Beth. We’re planning to go out for a meal and celebrate my news.’ Annie hesitated, not sure whether to ask about the news. She needn’t have worried as Christine carried on. ‘Michael and I are getting married in a couple of weeks. The ceremony is going to be at my parents’ house; only a small gathering. I’d love you to come and please feel free to bring someone with you. Franconi will be there with his wife. I’m dying to meet her. I bet you are too.’
Annie grinned. That would be something, meeting the captain’s wife. ‘Of course, I’d love to. Congratulations.’ Annie wasn’t sure what else to say. Well at least she’d have an excuse to go shopping. She didn’t think she had anything suitable with her for a wedding. The meal out was arranged for the weekend. It had been a while since she’d had a meal out with all female company. She closed the phone and went back to the squad room.
‘So, neither Amato nor Merton are at work today. They’re both on vacation – yesterday and today,’ Ellison reported as Annie walked in.
‘So, what next?’
‘Let’s drop over to Amato’s house. They could be there. If not, we can have a further chat with Frances Amato.’
Chapter 46
Frances Amato let herself back into the house. The walk to and from the seminary had felt good, helping to dissipate some of the anger. She checked in the hall mirror to see if her makeup had held up. Her eye was still puffy. No makeup could disguise that, although the bruising was nearly hidden. A casual passerby wouldn’t have noticed. Her uncle had, of course. She thought back to their conversation.
‘He’s been at it again, hasn’t he? I swear …’
‘Uncle Jonathan, don’t. He’s so fixated on Brian. I can’t believe what he and John Merton did yesterday at the burial. I had no idea he was planning that. Not that he tells me much, unless he wants me to cover something up for him. Yesterday afternoon, they both wanted to boast. I’m scared that Dominic is going to grow up with his temper. There are signs of it already.’
Brother Jonathan took his niece’s hand in his. ‘Dominic’s a good kid. Do you want me to talk to him?’
‘No. I just wanted to talk. Since Mom died, I don’t have anyone to share things with, except her favourite brother.’ They’d sat in companionable silence for a few minutes longer before she’d walked back home.
Frances Amato decided to drink her coffee out on the back porch. Five minutes to relax before she started on the housework. Tony liked the place immaculate, not that he ever did anything to keep it that way, apart from shouting instructions at her about what needed doing. The doorbell disturbed her relaxation.
Annie saw the look of displeasure on Frances Amato’s face when the door opened. The frown, though, only exaggerated the marks around her eyes and Annie had dealt with enough cases of domestic violence to recognise the signs. The woman moved back from the doorway and led them into the living room as the last time. ‘I don’t have anything else to tell you. I don’t know why you can’t leave us alone,’ was her opening gambit before the detectives even referred to the purpose of the visit.
‘Mrs Amato, is your husband at home?’ Ellison enquired.
She looked surprised. ‘Why, what now?’
‘Are you aware of his actions yesterday at the burial of Father Bannister?’
‘His? He wasn’t alone. John Merton was part of it.’ The woman smoothed her skirt. ‘I didn’t know anything about it until they came back here yesterday afternoon.’
‘Neither man is at work today,’ Annie commented.
‘They’ve gone fishing on the Farmington river. Don’t ask me details, I don’t know where they go exactly.’ Her hand went instinctively to her face, her fingers resting on the corner of her eye, trying to hide the bruising that the makeup had missed.
Annie’s attention wandered to the mantelpiece and the photos on it. She noticed a new one, quite sure it hadn’t been there the last time they’d visited. It showed Frances Amato, an older woman and an older man. Something about the man was familiar.
‘When are you expecting your husband back?’ Ellison asked.
‘Depends on how the fishing is going. If it’s good, it could be hours yet.’
‘Mrs Amato, could I use your bathroom?’ Annie asked.
The woman hesitated and then got up to show Annie the way. Annie managed to get a closer look at the photograph. Frances Amato and Ellison were in conversation when Annie returned to the living room a few minutes later. She picked up the framed photograph as she entered the room. Both Ellison and Frances Amato looked up at her.
‘Mrs Amato, I can’t help wondering if this is Brother Jonathan in the photograph.’ Annie passed the frame to Ellison.
Frances Amato’s jaw dropped in surprise at the sudden change in conversation. ‘Yes, it is. He’s my uncle, my mother’s brother. That was taken shortly before her death last year. They were very close. I only got it framed the other day. Frankly, it has taken me a while to bear to look at my mom’s photo, as she became so gaunt towards the end and didn’t look like herself. This was the last one taken before she started to waste away.’
Annie looked across at Ellison and then decided to ask another question. He would know where it was leading. ‘Is your son close to his great uncle?’
Now the woman frowned. ‘What do you mean? I’ve always taken him to visit his great uncle at the seminary. He also used to go with my mother sometimes when he was very small. Why are you asking?’
Annie wasn’t prepared to answer questions while she was following a line of inquiry. ‘Does your uncle have photographs of your son?’
Frances Amato’s face flushed. ‘Of course, he’ll have some. He’s my uncle. They’re family photographs.’
‘Will he have prints or do you email them to him?’ Annie persisted.
Frances Amato got up and took the framed photograph from Ellison and placed it back on the mantelpiece. As she returned to her seat she gave Annie a cold, hard stare. ‘Look, what’s this all about? Not that it’s any of your business but my uncle will have lots of photographs of Dominic, both prints and some I’ve emailed.’
‘Do you think he might have shared some of your son’s photos with Father Bannister?’
The woman’s hand went to her mouth. Both detectives waited for her to say something. Finally she did. ‘What’s going on? Why is everyone so bent on ruining Brian’s reputation?’
Annie’s voice remained calm. ‘As part of our investigation we’ve found photos of your son on Father Bannister’s laptop. Do you have any idea how they could’ve got there?’
Frances Amato’s hands were visibly shaking. ‘I don’t know.’ She got up again and started to pace the room. Then she heard a car and swished the curtain aside. Ellison and Annie were also alerted.
‘Is that your husband?’ Ellison asked.
‘No,’ Frances Amato replied, her voice quivering, ‘the neighbour next door. Really, I don’t think I can help you any more. Are you going to ask my husband about the photos of Dominic on the laptop, only …’ Instinctively, her hand touched her eye.
‘Not unless we have a further reason to and you’ve already helped us establish how the photographs might have come into Father Bannister’s possession.’ Ellison kept his voice low, responding to the fear the woman was showing at the prospect of her husband finding out. ‘One more question, Mrs Amato, did you go to the funeral as a mark of respect to your uncle or for Father Bannister?’
‘I don’t see how any of this is relevant,’ she replied as she sat down once again. ‘If you want to know, it was for both.’
Annie followed up with a question she knew would catch the woman off guard. ‘How did your husband react to the news that you�
�d been to the funeral?’
Frances Amato stared straight at her. ‘You’re a detective, I’m sure you can see the evidence before your eyes. Now if there isn’t anything else, I have housework to do.’ Frances Amato got up to signal that the interview was over, at least as far as she was concerned.
‘Maybe one day you’ll be prepared to press charges,’ Ellison commented as he got up from the chair. ‘Tell your husband to give us a call when he’s back. We want to speak to him today.’
*****
Brother Jonathan paced the room after Frances left. He clenched his fists thinking about her brute of a husband. It wasn’t God’s way, but he couldn’t help but hate Tony Amato for making his niece’s life a misery. She was such a beautiful woman and had given him a wonderful son. What did she get in return? Still, he knew he wasn’t much better than Amato. Brother Jonathan, pillar of the community, faithful servant to the priests of the parish, with a hidden life of his own, that neither his niece, nor his late sister knew anything about. He and Brian Bannister had similar interests and shared many a pleasurable evening reviewing the stored images. By now the police would be aware of Brian’s collection, he was sure of that.
He’d taken precautions: destroying his own hard drive and investing in a new laptop, completely free of anything incriminating. Not that he had much of a collection and Brian was never prepared to share his, except during their evenings together. Yet he was still awaiting a knock on the door again from the two detectives, wondering if he knew about Brian. He wasn’t sure how long it would take for that to happen. He had concentrated on Detective Macpherson at the burial, convinced that if she suspected anything about him, her face would give something away. She had only nodded to acknowledge him. His niece would be devastated if she ever found out about his sexual history. It would be more destructive than the physical abuse she took from her husband.
Det Annie Macpherson 02 - Programmed To Kill Page 19