by Uc Amalu, Jr
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ben stepped into the elevator and hit number three on
the keypad, the doors rolled shut and the drone of the
elevator’s engine sounded flatly throughout the shaft. He
pulled a clear plastic bag from his pocket containing the
business card for Lowman and Beaumont Accountants.
Although he had studied the card numerous times
already, he looked it over once more, turning it over and
upside down in the hopes that he might spot something
that he had missed previously. Nothing was making
sense to him, the entire Tessa Hunt murder baffled him,
and what would an accountancy firm have to do with
anything anyway? He felt as though he was just wasting
his time on fruitless leads while a madman with a
perverted fetish for pregnant women is still on the loose.
The droning stopped and the large steel doors rolled
open before him, he walked from the elevator and stood
in the corridor, looking left and right for Suite 5C. He
spied an informa-tion board on the wall immediately to
the left of the elevator doors, positioning himself in front
of it; he scanned the business names for Lowman and
Beaumont. Ben took in the instructions to find the
accountants and turned away from the board. He headed
right, then right again and finally, at the end of the
corridor he turned left where he found himself standing
before a plain timber door adorned with a silver plaque,
Lowman and Beaumont Accountants.
Running his fingers briskly through his hair, Ben then
tucked the business card back into his pocket and let
himself in through the door. Cream walls and beige
carpet greeted him when he stepped into the waiting
room; the reception-ist looked up at him from behind her
computer and smiled, acknowledging his presence.
Although he couldn’t hear what she was saying, he could
see that she was on a call. He picked up a magazine from
the glass top coffee table and made himself comfortable
on the imitation leather lounge chair of the waiting room.
He thumbed through his magazine, completely
uninterested in it’s contents, in an effort to look occupied.
The last thing he wanted was to go storming in causing a
ruckus and demanding to see the accountants
immediately and without an appointment. He was
prepared to be patient and didn’t mind a little free time to
study his sur-roundings.
"Is there something I can help you with, Sir?" the secretary
spoke to him from her desk.
"I’m Detective Ben Payne," Ben sprung from his chair and
walked over to her. "I was wonder-ing if it’s possible to
speak with Mr. Lowman and Mr. Beaumont at all?"
"May I ask what this is about Detective?" She asked,
scanning his badge.
Ben looked at the secretary and asked, "May I have your
name?"
The receptionist blushed and replied, "Of course, I’m
sorry. It’s Cindy."
"It’s to do with official police business, Cindy.
Unfortunately I can’t give you too many details I’m afraid."
Cindy scurried out from behind her station, "Follow me
Detective."
She led him into a small conference room with a large
cedar table and eight chairs in the centre of the room. A
laptop computer sat at one end of the table, accompanied
by a biro and a large note pad. To one side of the room, a
small bureau stood against the wall. A crystal water
decanter and eight glasses sat on a tray on top of it. Cindy
guided him to the nearest chair and pulled it back from
the table, motioning for him to take a seat.
"Please make yourself comfortable here, I’ll see if they can
see you Detective." Cindy paused for a moment and then
added, "Is there something I can get for you while you’re
waiting?"
"No, I’m just fine thanks Cindy," he answered.
A broad smile spread across her pretty face, "Okay then.
I’ll try to be as quick as I can."
Ben returned her smile and said, "Thanks, I appreciate it."
On the wall in front of him, Ben noticed a framed print of a
horse and carriage. It brought back memories of when he
and Anna were married many years ago. She had
desperately wanted the big wedding with all the
trimmings, and for her, that included the large guest list,
the most beautiful garden in Showsdale and of course a
horse and carriage to deliver her to and from the service. A
smile began to form, tugging lightly at the corners of his
mouth as he recalled how beautiful she looked in her
brilliant, white wedding gown. Her bronze hair was pulled
back loosely with two delicate combs, giving the illusion
of subdued flames flowing down to her bare shoulders.
He couldn’t think of a time when he remembered seeing
her so contented.
"Detective Payne." A man’s voice interrupted his
thoughts.
The sheer fright of being jolted back to the present caused
Ben to jump up from his chair. He spun on his heel and
faced the tall man standing to his left.
"Yes, that’s right," he managed to blurt out.
"I’m David Lowman, Laura will be along directly." He
extended his hand to Ben and shook it before walking
behind him and stand-ing in front of the laptop. He
placed his hands on the back of the chair and rested them
upon it.
"Laura?" Ben enquired.
"Yes, Laura Beaumont… you did wish to see both of us
didn’t you?"
"Definitely, yes."
David grinned at him, "You weren’t expecting a woman?"
Ben shook his head, the expression on his face
apologetic. "You got me, it never occurred to me that
Lowman and Beaumont may include a woman. I…"
"Well it’s a good thing I have thick skin then, isn’t it
Detective?" A female’s voice cut him short.
He approached Laura, holding out his hand. "Please
forgive me, I certainly didn’t mean to be offensive."
She accepted his hand and his apology with a smile.
"That’s quite okay, I’m used to being mistaken for a man."
She placed her finger below her chin and rolled her eyes
towards the ceiling in jest and then added, "I’d like to
think that I look better in stiletto’s though!"
The room erupted into laughter; the tension of his
mistake had been broken.
"Please Detective, sit down," she said before pulling out a
chair beside David and settling into it.
"Thank you," he replied.
"Now, Detective, how can we be of assistance to you?"
David kicked off the conversation.
"First thing’s first, please call me Ben."
The pair nodded in agreement.
"Cindy said it was something to do with a police matter?"
Laura queried, keeping the conversation alive.
"Yes," Ben pulled his notebook from his coat. "This won’t
take a minute, you may not even be of help to me."
"We’ll do what we can," David interjected.
"Do either of you have a client by the name o
f Tessa
Hunt?"
"The name doesn’t ring any bells for me, how bout you
Laura?"
The blood appeared to be draining from Laura’s face and
she began to fidget nervously. She attempted to keep
herself together, although it was evident that she had
indeed heard of Tessa.
David turned to her. "Laura?"
"Yes, I believe that she phoned me a couple of weeks ago,
possibly longer. A prospective client."
Ben studied her body language more carefully, she was
certainly uneasy about the topic of Tessa and he was
determined to find out why.
Laura bounced out of her chair, "I’ve got her file in my
office, Detective, perhaps we can go over it in there?"
Ben could see that whatever her problem was, she didn’t
want to discuss it in front of her partner. Obviously this
was personal. Following her lead, Ben agreed without a
fuss.
"Well, it appears all is in order here," David said, shaking
Ben’s hand on his way to the door. "So if you’ll excuse me,
I have work to do. I’ll leave you in Laura’s capable hands.
Nice meeting you Ben."
"Thank you for your time David."
David waved his hand in the air before he vanished
around the corner. Ben returned his attentions to Laura,
the possibility of a breakthrough now very real. He
watched intently as she intertwined her fingers and then
untangled them, she bit down on her bottom lip and
released it again, all the while her eyes avoiding direct
contact with him.
"So Laura," Ben broke the ice, "Shall we go to your office or
would you prefer to stay here?"
"My office, I think… if that’s okay with you?"
"Sure, wherever you feel the most comfortable is just fine
with me."
He gestured with his arm for her to lead the way, a smile
remained on his lips, hoping she would stay calm and
not feel intimidated. The last thing he needed now was for
her to clam up on him. Laura held her breath for a few
seconds before setting out for her office, Ben trailing
behind her. She led him across the walkway and through
an open door a few feet down the hall.
"Come in, make yourself comfortable," she instructed him
and then closed the door behind them.
Ben took in the details of the room; only the scattering of
a few carefully placed d’Arcy Doyle prints and Laura’s CPA
degree and registration broke the blandness of the pale
cream walls. Her desk was rather mundane, made of
melamine, it appeared quite tacky compared to the
stature of the conference room. A large bookcase
spanning from floor to ceiling stood gallantly behind her
leather chair. For the size of it, there didn’t seem to be too
many books inside. Maybe she was still stocking it, there
were a few boxes sitting on the floor in the corner of the
room, Ben could see at least one book spine through the
crack in the cardboard flaps.
"Please excuse the mess," Laura said, taking a seat
behind her desk. "I’ve recently moved office and I’m still
working on the homey touches."
"It looks just fine to me," Ben lied, pulling out a chair. He
eased himself into the stiff, thinly cushioned seat and
pulled his notebook out. "So tell me about Tessa, I can’t
help but feel that there is more to your acquaintance with
her than just business." Ben studied her face intently.
She hung her head, tears welling in her eyes. "I wasn’t her
accountant… I lied about her being a prospective client."
She reached for a tissue and held it scrunched up in her
hand, she then dabbed her eyes lightly.
"Go on."
"You’ll have to forgive me Detective, this is rather personal
and I am ashamed of even having to speak of it," her eyes
glanced up at him before falling back to the floor. "Tessa
was a… friend, of my husband’s."
"Can you define friend, for me Laura?" Ben gently pushed
her; he needed to be certain that he actually understood
what she was saying. He wanted clarity; one incorrect
assumption could be disastrous to the case.
"Must I spell it out for you? This is awkward enough as it
is." Her discomfort was obvious.
"I’m sorry, but it’s important that I have all the facts. I
really don’t mean to put you through this, but it’s
essential that every detail is crystal clear."
Laura lost control of her emotions; tears fell from her eyes
and rolled down her cheeks leaving a damp trail in her
make-up. Ben couldn’t help but feel her anguish; he
leaned over, grabbed a fresh tissue from the box and
handed it to her. She accepted it, gratitude evident on her
face. A sigh escaped her and she sat upright in her chair,
pulling herself together.
"I’ve know about her for a while now…"
"Tessa?"
"Yes."
"Go on," Ben pushed.
"She phoned me one Friday evening last month, at about
seven, maybe a tad later. She wanted me to meet her at
some coffee shop."
Ben stared at her, beckoning her to continue. She wiped
her eyes, her composure now a little more stable.
"I told her that I knew who she was and that I had no
intention of meeting with her. She kept going on and on
about how she needed to tell me something important
and that I should meet with her."
"What did you say?"
"I told her that I have no desire to speak with my
husband’s little tart." As soon as the words left her
mouth, she broke down, sobbing uncontrollably.
Ben felt terrible for her; he could almost feel her pain. His
hand stretched across the desk and held hers, he didn’t
even realise he had done so until she squeezed it in
response. Many times Ben had felt deeply for the pain and
suffering of others, he had never physically acted upon it
as he was now doing, and he was surprised with his
action. Concern for his professionalism soon crept in and
his hand gradually recoiled, leaving Laura to comfort
herself.
"How long had you known about the affair?" Ben asked,
attempting to remain compassionate.
Another tear escaped her eye and she spoke again. "To
the best of my knowledge, Donald had been seeing her
for about six months."
"Donald is your husband?"
"Yes, we’ve been married for ten years," her gaze fell to the
floor again and she whis-pered, "We were childhood
sweethearts."
"I am so sorry Laura," Ben soothed.
She nodded in acknowledgement and reached for another
tissue. "I’d been working late a lot, trying to get my client
base up and well I guess Don was alone a lot…" she
paused and looked at Ben, searching for understanding.
"It’s okay… you don’t have to justify anything to me," he
replied.
"I got home early one evening, Don wasn’t there. I just
figured that he was out playing racquetball with a work
had finished I rummaged through our robe, search-ing
for the negligee Don had given me for our anniversary. In
the back on the shelf I found a white box with a ribbon
around it, there was a card attached to it."
Ben slunk back into his chair and sighed, "Please go on
Laura."
"Naturally I thought it was a gift Don had bought for me
so I opened the box and found a black, lace bra and panty
set. It wasn’t my size. I read the card… and well, that’s
when I found out about Tessa."
"Did you confront her or your husband?"
"Not at first. I began following Don and checking his calls,
I found out what she looked like, where she lived, and
where she worked. She was his personal assistant of all
things, can you believe it? It made me sick to the stomach
thinking of the two of them together, so I cornered Don
and told him that I knew of his affair."
"When was this?"
"About three or four weeks ago I suppose, I’m not
completely sure of the date."
"How did he react?"
"He begged me not to leave him and promised he would
break it off. We’ve been attending marriage counselling
ever since."
"Did he say how Tessa reacted to the break up?"
"All he said was that it didn’t go well, she said that there
was something he needed to know. He told her he didn’t
want to hear it and that it was over. I thought that would
be the end of it, but…"
"But she phoned you?"
"Yes."
"And you have no idea what the important thing she
needed to tell you was?"
"No."
"You definitely didn’t meet with her that night?"
"No, Detective. I already told you that. I have no desire to
be anywhere near that woman, she ruined my marriage.
She can rot in Hell for all I care!" Laura’s words were
searing, her eyes full of anger.
"Where were you the night Tessa phoned you Laura?"
"Why? What has that got to do with anything?"
"Please, just tell me."
"If it’s that important…"
"It is," Ben quickly shot back at her.
She glared at him, his sudden change in tone not to her
liking. "I was at a conference in Bayside. I attend them
maybe once every twelve months or so, along with a
hundred and seventy other accountants from across the
state." She sat forward in her chair her hands scrunching
the tissue. "What’s going on here Detective?"
"Tessa Hunt was murdered sometime on Friday the
seventeenth, we found your business card in her purse."
He cleared his throat and then asked, "Where was your
husband that night Laura?"
Shock crossed her face, it was apparent to Ben that she
truly had no idea of Tessa’s fate. He still had to rule her
out as a suspect, her husband too. He pressed her again,
"Laura… your husband, where was he?"
"You can’t seriously be thinking Don had anything to do
with this? He wouldn’t… he couldn’t."
Ben held her gaze and remained silent.
"Don was with me, we traveled to Bayside together. We
thought we’d try and make a weekend of it, spend some
quality time together. With us trying to work things out
and all, we thought it would be a perfect opportunity."
Ben pushed his chair back and stood up, he pulled a card
from his notebook and gave it to her. "I’ll need you to give
me the details of where you stayed at Bayside, when you
got there and when you left. I’ll also need your husband to
contact me as soon as possible, my number is on the
card." He walked towards the door and then turned and
looked back at her, her expression still dazed.
"She was pregnant."
"Oh God," Laura cried, her voice low.
"I am sorry Laura," he whispered.
"Please Ben, just go," she cried, "I need to be alone."
Ben opened the door and left her office, he could hear her
sobs even at the end of the walkway. It twisted him up
thinking of how much suffering one act of infidelity by her
husband, had caused her. He felt strongly, that Laura was
just another piece in the puzzle, but was by no means the
murderer. Don on the other hand, was of interest to him,
and he was determined to chase him up. He reached the
reception area and directed himself to the desk.
"Hi Cindy." He shot her a beaming smile.
"Hi." She returned the Gesture.
"Is it possible for you to give me a print out of all the
attendees of the Bayside conference from last Month?"
"It certainly is, just a moment." Cindy swung around in her
chair and reached into a filing cabinet, she pulled out two
sheets of paper and walked over to the copier. She ran off
two copies and handed them over to Ben. "There you are
Detective, anything else I can do for you?"
"You’re a gem Cindy, thanks, that’s all I need for now."
With that he smiled his good byes and made his way to
the door. Looking at his watch, he decided he had enough
time to make his solicitors before heading back to the
station house. He told Anna that’d he sign the divorce
papers today, and like it or not… he was going to do it.
Out in the hallway he took out his phone and made the
call.