The K Handshape

by Maureen Jennings

  She continued in her neat precise way. “For simplicity of viewing, I have marked out the lists in the same way as the first sheet but this time in one-hour segments. I kept the pink highlighter for the infractions column as before and as you can see we picked up ten more, making a total of thirteen.”

  “Are gamblers worse than the general population about not paying fines?” I asked.

  She took my joke seriously. “I don’t have that statistic to hand. Would you like me to get it?”

  “No, no. That’s fine.”

  “Just as a double check, I correlated all vehicle entry times from our furthest parameter at the moment, 1:30 Wednesday morning to 10:00 the previous Tuesday morning, although I can go further back if you want me to.” Again she frowned. “There is a discrepancy of six cars. I show them entering but not exiting the casino. Those I have circled in yellow. If we remove our victim’s name from the list, we are left with five.”

  “So? What does that mean?”

  For the first time Tiffany’s ultra-efficient, “I have a computer for a brain” demeanour cracked and she actually turned pink. “There is a back way. My boyfriend, Simon, works at the casino and we went out that way one time because the lineup was so slow getting out of the main exits. There is a gate and a No Exit sign but you can move aside the gate easily enough. It used to be a service road and leads out onto back dirt roads but sometimes people go out that way on concert nights because it’s quicker.”

  “As Simon did?”

  “That’s right.” She chewed her lip. “I hope you don’t have to use his name. He would lose his job. The casino bosses are very strict.”

  “Do all the employees know about this back way?”

  “I doubt it. Just surveillance and security.” She shrugged. “But you know how things slip out; it would be impossible to determine who was in the know.”

  “And you think the five cars unaccounted for might have gone via that exit?”

  “There’s no other explanation. The camera has a picture of the licence plates even if they’re covered with mud. All of the ones in our frame were reading normally.” Another sheet, plain white, floated in my direction. “Here are the names of the, shall we call them,” she made quotation marks with her fingers, “‘missing’ cars, in alphabetical order of registrants. The entry times of four of them are consistent with shift times so they are most likely employees. I haven’t yet had the opportunity to confirm that with the casino.”

  “What this means then is that Deidre could have left with somebody by the back exit at any time?”

  “Yes, it does mean that. And frankly, I’d be willing to bet on it. She was a regular player and she’d know some employees by sight at least. In this day and age, a girl doesn’t accept a ride from a stranger.”

  I wasn’t entirely sure of that. Deidre was in a hurry. Nevertheless Tiffany had a point, especially if this back exit was something of a company secret.

  I glanced over the list. A Honda Civic registered to Benjamin Snake had entered the parking lot at 7:00 p.m. I was sure he’d said he wasn’t working Tuesday night. I’d better follow that up.

  The other name really made me blink. A 1997 Chevrolet Nova, colour beige, was clocked in at 10:41. No exit time.

  What gave me one heck of a jolt was that the car was registered in the name of Trudy and Sigmund Forgach!

  “Tiffany, is this correct? We have a Sigmund Forgach on the first list as entering at 8:11 and exiting at 8:47.”

  She checked the sheet. “Yes, that’s right. The cameras don’t lie. See, it’s a different car completely, different licence plate. Would it be his wife? Maybe she was looking for him.”

  “Uh-uh. He’s not married. But you’re sure the Chevy didn’t exit by the regular gates?”

  “Positive. There’s no way it could have been missed. No, Sergeant Morris, the car registered to Sigmund Forgach was recorded entering and exiting. The car registered to Trudy and Sigmund Forgach was only clocked in at the entrance.”

  What the hell did that mean? It was just too much of a coincidence not to be relevant. The timing fit perfectly with Deidre’s leaving the casino. She would have had time to accept a ride in the Chevy. But who was driving? Was it the former Mrs. Forgach, or was it Sigmund come back in a different car? If so, why would he? And why hadn’t he said anything?

  I went back to Tiffany. “Thanks so much for all your hard work.”

  Her eyebrows shot up. “Oh, it wasn’t hard work at all. I just keyed in the data and…,” she snapped her fingers, “there you are. The computer does it all for us.”

  “How on earth did we operate before computers?”

  “I don’t know,” she said solemnly. “It’s terrifying to think about.”

  I headed for the door, the file folder under my arm. I wish she had been able to highlight, perhaps in red, “the most likely murderer in descending order of probability.”

  CHAPTER THIRTY-FIVE

  I drove straight to the casino to check out what Tiffany had told me. I circled the lot twice but for the life of me I couldn’t see the secret exit. The area was well organized with large signs to control the traffic flow. One Way Only as you came in, ushering all vehicles into the marked spaces. Along the outer fences were more signs, which said This Way Out. Finally, I parked and went inside.

  I asked the OPP constable on duty to phone Ben Snake in the surveillance room and he came down so promptly to meet me, I actually wondered if he’d seen me on the monitor. His smile was flatteringly welcoming.

  “Sergeant Morris, what can I do for you? How’s the case coming along?”

  I’d remained in the lobby, which was filling up with a surge of visitors; more coaches must have arrived. I moved to the wall so I wouldn’t get trampled.

  “Is there a place we can talk for a minute?”

  “Sure. Let this lot go through first.”

  When the wave had subsided sufficiently for us to be able to move against the tide, he took my elbow lightly and guided me through the doors and off to the left into the atrium. It was designed to resemble a Native village with a central fire. The sound and light show was in progress and the powerful throb of drumming shook the air. I stopped, letting myself feel the vibrations coming up through the floor. I could hear the overlay of voices from the talking heads on the surrounding tree trunks. Deidre wouldn’t have been able to hear those words but she could certainly feel the pounding of the drum and I understood why she had taken such pleasure in coming here every week.

  “This way,” said Ben and he ushered me into the gift shop that opened off from the atrium. The windows were hung with feathered dream catchers and what looked like handmade moccasins and fringed shirts. It was intended for tourists but wasn’t cheesy. A man who could have been his twin was sitting behind the counter. He had the same long black hair and dark eyes.

  “This is my cousin, Dave Snake,” said Ben. He introduced me and Dave gave me a friendly smile.

  “I want to borrow your back room for a few minutes,” said Ben.

  “Help yourself. And while you’re in there you can plug in the kettle. I’m ready for some tea.”

  Ben led the way through a hanging bead curtain that clicked and clacked behind us. The room was mostly for storage and was packed with boxes but there was a small table and a couple of chairs in one corner beside a serviceable fridge. The kettle was on a shelf with a box of tea bags and some coffee makings.

  “Tea? Coffee?

  “No thanks, I’m fine.”

  He plopped a tea bag into a mug. “So what’s on your mind?”

  It might have been my overactive imagination but I thought he wasn’t as relaxed as he’d been before. There was tension in his shoulders and he seemed to me to be overly focused on the tea making.

  “We’ve been checking registration numbers for the vehicles exiting the casino grounds at what we think was a crucial time period. There was a discrepancy to the tune of five cars that had been recorded as entering but not leavin
g.”

  He raised his eyebrows. “Really?”

  “I understand there is another exit from the parking lot but it’s in the nature of a secret. Nobody is supposed to use it but on occasion employees do go out that way to beat the rush on concert nights.”

  “Who told you that?”

  I didn’t want to get Tiffany’s boyfriend into trouble. “Let’s just say I heard this on good authority.”

  Ben was silent for a moment, holding his mug of tea and looking into it as if he were reading the tea leaves.

  I took the sheet of paper from my briefcase. “This is the list of names that the missing vehicles are registered to — your name is on the list. Is that your licence plate number?”

  He put down his tea and I handed him the paper.

  “Yes, that’s my car all right.”

  “Now I am positive you said you weren’t working on Tuesday night. Did you come to the casino anyway?”

  He didn’t answer but turned away from me and sat down heavily in the chair.

  “Do you have children?”

  “Uh-uh.”

  “I’ve got four and they’re all still at home, God forbid. My oldest is eighteen. I was at home on Tuesday, like I said, and Aaron asked to borrow the car. He told me he was going over to his girlfriend’s house. I never thought twice about it. Now according to what you showing me, somebody brought my car over here.”

  “Does your son know about the other exit?”

  “Sure he does.” Ben gave me a wry grin. “Is there a man in the world who doesn’t want to impress his teenage son with what a big chief he is? Aaron’s come to various concerts with me and the family and I took them home via the back way. I told them it was only for special folks like me and they mustn’t tell.” He sighed. “I’m going to tan his hide, I don’t care how old he is. One for lying to me and two for using the car like that. That rear exit is verboten and I could be in deep shit if the bosses knew I’d used it.”

  “Why do you think he came here?”

  “God knows. The concert was the Irish Tenors, and to say the least, they’re not his style. He’s a rap man. And he doesn’t gamble; I’ve made sure none of them ever got bitten by that particular bug. So no, I don’t know what he was doing here. What time was he clocked in?”

  “Just before seven o’clock.”

  I took out my notebook. “Perhaps I could have a word with him? Where’s the best place to reach him?”

  “Right now he should be at work. He has a job at the ice cream parlour in Orillia. He won’t be too busy on a day like this. Who wants ice cream in this weather? Are you going to phone or go over?”

  “I’ll go over.”

  His eyes met mine. “You don’t think he has anything to do with the dead girl, do you?”

  I’d like to have said, “oh gosh no,” but of course I couldn’t. Anybody in that parking lot who couldn’t give an account of themselves on Tuesday night was a “person of interest” as far as I was concerned. We badly needed to trace Deidre’s movements after she left the building. Young Aaron Snake wasn’t the only person on the list, however.

  “Do you know these three people?” I asked Ben. “They all clocked in just before seven.”

  “Cartwright’s one of our cashiers. Tom Bruder is a pit boss and Don McBready works in the bar. They’ll be easy to verify. They’re all working now. If you like I can get them … maybe this room isn’t the best but do you want to talk to them?”

  “I’ll do it later.”

  I had to start getting back to the office and I wanted to have a quick chat with young Aaron before I did. I was about to impress on Ben the need for discretion but he beat me to it.

  “Don’t worry, I won’t phone ahead and warn my son you’re coming. Whatever the hell he was up to I know it wasn’t murder. I’ll see him later tonight, but if you want to talk to me some more you can reach me at home. And I won’t speak to those other guys either.”

  “I appreciate that.”

  Again he flashed me the wry grin. “The Snakes are part of the Bear clan and traditionally we’re responsible for security, originally no doubt security of the village or the camping ground, now it’s the casino. I don’t like the fact that something horrible happened to somebody who was on my turf. You can count on my co-operation … and I hope you will do likewise. I don’t want to be left in the dark.”

  “Fair enough.”

  He knew I couldn’t discuss the details of the case with him but he wanted to know if he should worry about his son or not. Needless to say, this was all very reminiscent of Leo Forgach.

  CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX

  In fact, my interview with Aaron Snake didn’t take long at all. He was sitting forlornly in the deserted ice cream parlour, waiting for customers. He looked a lot like his dad, tall and big-boned except that his dark hair was cut short and gelled into fashionable spikes. I explained why I wanted to talk to him. He gulped.

  “Does my dad have to know?”

  “He already knows you took his car, that you said you were going to your girlfriend’s but went to the casino. That was you, wasn’t it?”

  “Yeah. I’ve met this girl, Nuala, see, and she’s crazy about the Irish Tenors. So I took her to the show. Yeah, I know I didn’t tell my dad but frankly he gets a bit nosy where my girlfriends are concerned. Not to mention how I spend my money.” He threw up his hands in a placatory gesture. “Don’t get me wrong, my dad’s a great guy, one of the best, and we get along great, but he’s what you’d call old school. He’d like me to marry a Native girl eventually and he wants me to get on in the world. I’m not opposed to that.” He pointed at the notice board. “I was the one introduced sandwiches so we can get customers in the off-season. They’re popular. But I’m not always going to work in a place like this for minimum wage, I can tell you.” He grinned at me, showing white even teeth. “But it does for now. I’m learning the business and it gives me pocket money. I live at home, which keeps the costs down, but dad keeps a tight grip, so yeah, I don’t tell him absolutely everything. He goes on about how his kids won’t leave home but if truth be told, he’s the one hanging on, ever since my mom died, which was five years ago. He’s even worse with my sisters, if you’d believe. He drives them crazy … but like I said, he’s basically a really good guy. I don’t fault him for wanting to look out for us. I just do end runs every now and then.”

  He admitted that meant literally an end run on Tuesday night. He had gone out of the rear exit right after the concert, at about eleven o’clock, to beat the lineup to go out the normal exits. He’d stayed with Nuala until two in the morning. He’d actually looked a bit shy at that admission, which was a surprise to me. I thought the younger generation was blasé about fessing up to having active sex lives.

  I’d got all I needed for now. He hadn’t parked anywhere near where we’d found Deidre’s Toyota and he hadn’t seen her or the car. I believed him but took down the name of his girlfriend. We’d have to confirm his alibi.

  “I saw on the television about the girl being killed in the park. She’s come in here a few times with her kid. She was cute. She couldn’t talk but I could figure out what she wanted.”

  “Was she ever with anybody else?”

  “Yeah. Another woman, sort of tough looking with pink hair. A guy one time. He was deaf too. Fair with a bit of a straggly beard.”

  “Do you remember when that was?”

  He rubbed his finger across his forehead. “I’m bad about time. Days melt together. But it wasn’t that long ago, still warm out, people still wanting ice cream. So it would have been about five weeks ago, maybe less. The same guy was here recently though. On Tuesday.”

  “You’re sure it was the same guy?”

  “Positive. He came in late. I was just closing up. I couldn’t make out what he wanted at first so he was doing a lot of pointing. He wanted a butter pecan with a second scoop of chocolate on top.”

  Well, that put Zachary Taylor in town on Tuesday evening.

/>   Aaron looked at me. “Do you think I should tell my dad about Nuala?”

  “I strongly recommend that you do. Parents get worried if their kids lie to them.”

  He scowled. “Yeah, I know but it’s his own fault. If he cut me a bit of slack, I would tell him things.”

  I knew that one from the inside out and I sympathized with the lad. But I was on the side of the adults now. “You should sit down and have a good talk. Your dad struck me as a reasonable sort of guy.”

  Aaron gaped. “He did? If you say so.”

  I closed up my notebook, ready to leave.

  “Hold on.” He hurried over to the fridge. “Why don’t you have a freebie on me? It’s good stuff, I promise you, real cream. What’s your fave?”

  I couldn’t say I was in the mood for ice cream but it seemed churlish to refuse so I left the store licking at a stacked cone of maple walnut ice cream. The chilly wind hit me in the face when I stepped onto the street, making eating ice cream seem ridiculous, but it certainly lived up to Aaron’s promise. I thought I’d come back when the temperature was in the thirties.

  He seemed a good kid and I hoped he would eventually discover what he wanted to do. I put in the back of my mind a resolution to talk to him at a later date about joining the OPP.

  I’d managed to drip ice cream down my jacket by the time I pulled up into the parking lot of the Centre. I wiped it and my sticky fingers as best as I could and headed in. As I passed Janice’s desk, she looked up from the phone call she was involved in and held up a finger to indicate I should wait a minute.

  She disconnected. “You’ve had two calls from Scotland. Your mother phoned at three and says to please call her first thing in the morning, our time that is. She has important news.”

  “Did she say what it was?”

  “No, and I didn’t ask,” said Janice. She’d had experience before with Joan’s calls, which could be interminable if she found a sympathetic ear at the other end, and Janice was nothing if not kindly. Joan didn’t seem to mind, or notice, the constant interruptions as Janice had to answer other calls.