Fifteen Coffins

by Tony J. Forder

  ‘Get real,’ the police officer said, his gruff tone suggesting he had taken offence. ‘There’s only one person in this room dumb enough to step over the mark like that, and it ain’t me or Shane, that’s for damned sure.’

  ‘Screw you, Sergeant,’ Ebben said, seemingly unruffled. ‘I’m answerable to the mayor, not the likes of you. He’s satisfied I played no part in this. Perhaps it’s you who needs to get real.’

  Jubb grunted. He would not describe himself as being entirely satisfied of his man’s innocence.

  ‘And I’m a goddamned police officer,’ Weekes snapped back, shifting around on his creaky old chair that looked flimsy enough to shatter at any moment. ‘So you better believe you’re answerable to me as well.’

  A mocking amusement danced in Ebben’s eyes as he said, ‘Posture all you like for the three of us sharing this table with you, Andy. But don’t ever forget that we know you. We know what you’re prepared to do for the right amount of money and a blind eye turned to your own nefarious profiteering at the expense of others.’

  ‘Woah, woah,’ Jubb jumped in, holding up his hands as if attempting to turn back the tide. ‘We four have a duty to keep our heads, because not doing so will bring a heavy cost. So reel it in, damn you, and be civil to one another. Infighting gets us nowhere. The point here requiring our focus is if none of us were responsible for bugging Merlot, then who the heck was? And, more importantly, why?’

  ‘I wouldn’t put it past her own people,’ Jennings said. He didn’t contribute much to such discussions, but when he did speak out it was always after a great deal of thought.

  ‘The Bureau?’ Jubb regarded him quizzically. ‘What makes you say that?’

  ‘Their own paranoid delusions are well documented. We may have things buttoned down in Moon Falls, but up in Sacramento they are working hard on covering their asses. The second Merlot started making a big fuss of this and giving Muller credibility, you can bet the FBI began to take a genuine interest in making sure they took no blame if the truth came out.’

  ‘That’s a real possibility,’ Ebben said. ‘Likely even, given I can’t think who else would feel the need to monitor Merlot and Muller that closely, let alone have the resources to get it done.’

  ‘Are you sure it wasn’t one of your minions?’ Weekes asked.

  ‘Quite sure.’

  ‘What did you do with the devices she threw at you?’

  ‘Messaged them to the forensic lab. Merlot claims to have obtained prints and says she’ll chase down the serial numbers. I want to make sure we’re not walking in her shadow.’

  ‘You’re certain nobody else has stepped out of line?’ Jennings asked, probing further.

  ‘Like who?’

  ‘Like anybody. You name them.’

  Ebben huffed and shook his head. ‘I can’t speak for everybody. You know that. But why would they? And how did they without any of us being aware of it?’

  ‘Because that’s how subversion works, Chase. If there’s somebody out there who is not convinced we can keep a lid on this, who doesn’t trust us to manage things our way, then they’re not going to sit idly by while we screw it all up.’

  Jubb did not like that suggestion one little bit, but once again Shane Jennings had raised a credible possibility.

  ‘So where are we with Muller and Duncan Baxter?’ Weekes asked, having calmed himself.

  ‘The delay there is my fault,’ Jubb admitted. ‘I’m struggling to determine the best way to deal with both men, as they each pose different threats. Shane and I have spoken about it, and our concern is that offering them money could actually work against us. Especially in Muller’s case. When we go at them, I want to go loaded for bear.’

  ‘There’s something else we need to discuss,’ Ebben said when the room fell silent. ‘I’ve dealt with it for the time being, but the fire is not, shall we say, entirely extinguished.’

  Weekes let out a low groan. ‘What now for Christ’s sake?’

  ‘Merlot again. She has it in her head that her father’s death was intentional. She’s asking herself if it had something to do with another case. I don’t know if she was talking about one her father was working on at the time, or the one she’s sticking her nose into now. But I’m not sure if we can take that risk. Merlot is getting too close for comfort in my opinion.’

  ‘And you know all this how?’ Jennings asked.

  ‘I have my sources.’

  ‘You sure you didn’t have your bugs?’ Weekes shot back.

  Ebben shot him a disapproving look. ‘As I said before, Sergeant, screw you. Believe me, don’t believe me, that’s your prerogative. But you better take notice of me when I tell you the Merlot situation has reached critical mass. The mayor and I have discussed… options. It’s best all round if you remain ignorant of any arrangements I make, but I think you will have figured out for yourself that we either put a stop to this right now, or we run the risk of facing the consequences of our previous actions.’

  ‘And by putting a stop to it you mean..?’

  ‘I mean preventing anyone or anything from hurting us.’

  ‘My God, what have we done?’ Weekes breathed.

  ‘Yeah, you pray to that God of yours,’ Jubb said, running a meaty hand across the back of his neck. ‘Because, as they used to say in these here parts, it’s time for a reckoning.’

  Forty-Four

  Suspicion is a terrible thing. Like a cancer it grows steadily beneath the surface, destroying everything it comes into contact with. It ate away at Sydney overnight, to the point where she had to shut it down for fear of becoming completely delusional. Deep into the early hours of Wednesday morning she had finally reached a conclusion: Benton Lowe was a man caught in the middle of a fight he wanted no part of, but his hands were clean and he would do his job no matter where the truth took him.

  Shocked and alarmed at learning the fate of Sonia and Gerry Kasper, Sydney realised how far some people in Moon Falls were willing to go in order to protect themselves. She thought back to her meeting with Sonia by the lake in Twain Harte. The call to arrange the lunch had been made here in her home, by which time the bugs were already in place and functioning. Had that telephone conversation lured whoever murdered the couple to the Kasper residence? If so, what answers were they seeking?

  Sydney remained undecided. Somebody following her to the restaurant was not out of the question. The lunch had taken place the day after her awful dream, the same day she discovered a threat written in toothpaste on her bathroom mirror, and she had been both exhausted and distracted by the experience. She would likely not have spotted a tail even if she’d been looking for one.

  But what did any of it mean? If the bugged phone call had led a killer into Sonia Kasper’s home, and the mayor’s office had taken the decision to plant the devices, then was somebody close to Jubb also responsible for the double murder? And was that somebody Chase Ebben? Murdering the couple was such a huge expansion of hostilities, a reaction entirely out of step with anything that had gone before it. After all, if Jubb and Ebben were somehow involved in keeping close tabs on her, then it was surely only to prevent Moon Falls being dragged through the media wringer again.

  Or was it?

  Sydney rolled her mind over the entire sequence of events for about the hundredth time. Had she misjudged things so badly? Could Jubb and Ebben possibly have more to lose than the next election due to the town’s further exposure? And if so, then what? Did they have evidence proving Kevin Muller’s innocence? Was that it? Were they already aware of the awful miscarriage of justice and doing everything in their power to ensure it stayed buried? And if that were true, then did they also know who the real shooter was? Was that the secret they were protecting?

  Yet what did any of that have to do with Sonia and Gerry Kasper?

  Sydney focussed on them for a moment. Held the pair firmly in her thoughts. There were two reasons why she had arranged to see Sonia that day: the concerns over her husband’s possible infi
delities, and Sydney’s own suspicions regarding her father’s death.

  At that point in her musing, somewhere close to dawn, Sydney drew herself bolt upright in the bed. By then the night had cooled considerably, and she raised the blanket up to her chin as she sat with her spine jammed against two pillows. If Gerry Kasper had not driven her father off the road, then provided it was not the accident everybody claimed it to be, someone else had. That same individual would be desperate to discover what she suspected, and would undoubtedly take the first opportunity to find out if she had shared that information with Sonia.

  The hair on Sydney’s arms sprang erect, prompted by the chilling thoughts creeping into her mind. When asking herself how and why the Kaspers were murdered, she had thus far only considered the listening devices or the likelihood of someone following her to the lunch meeting. But there was another real possibility. Because before calling Sonia, Sydney had spilled her guts to Duncan Baxter. He was the only other person who knew exactly why Sydney was suspicious of Gerry Kasper. No need for bugs, no need to follow her.

  Sensing she was drowning and about to go under for the last time, Sydney realised she was driving herself crazy. She already feared the grasping tentacles of paranoia as they wrapped themselves around her throat, tightening their grip as they slithered to seek purchase. Her list of suspects was growing longer, yet she was further from the truth than when she started. First Gerry, then Benton, now Duncan. Once again, it made little sense beyond the fact that it was not impossible. Baxter’s personal involvement so far had been restricted to the high school shootings, and it was she who had approached him in that regard. He had no interest in the Kasper couple, and had even expressed his disinclination to follow her down that particular rabbit hole.

  Unless of course his lack of curiosity was pure invention. There was little doubt in her mind that he had not been the man who ran her father off the road – what an incredible coincidence that would have been. Far more plausible was the notion that somebody had got to him since. When it came to his story about preventing a prowler from breaking into his home, she had only his word it had ever taken place. What if, instead, that same intruder had reached out to Baxter? Offered him an inducement, possibly even threatened him. Convinced the man it was better to work against Sydney than with her.

  She shook her head at the absurdity of the notion. Baxter’s involvement didn’t feel right, either. Although, what did she actually know about the man? What did she know about anyone from Moon Falls these days?

  And so it went on, dragging her thoughts every which way, until Sydney decided to rise early and take a long shower, enjoy a decent breakfast with plenty of hot, black coffee. Although weary in both body and mind, her spirits were improved afterwards, and she had more purpose and clarity of thought. Out on the deck she sat with her feet up on another chair and a lined pad resting on her thighs. While she made occasional notes, Sydney started pulling the various strands together both from the previous evening’s discussion and from every other encounter or call she had taken part in since first meeting Dexter Muller.

  When it came to potential shooters on the day of the high school massacre, there were too many variables, too many unknowns. Benton had ultimately agreed that both he and his deputy, Isaac Solomon, would figure out a way to interrogate Cole and DeVeer without either them or their families realising what was going on. There was nothing further to garner from Rebecca Wade, although she seemed to be very much in Kevin Muller’s corner. As for herself, having marched into the mayor’s office and confronted both Ebben and Jubb, that was an avenue she would no longer be able to explore unless she had some hard evidence against them.

  All of which brought her back to the shooting itself.

  The root cause of all the pain in the town ever since.

  The case had been hers for a week. Exhausted by the numerous and varied possibilities, Sydney could feel each slipping further from her grasp. Having to handle it unofficially, unsupported by her own employers and being balked by some of the very people from whom she needed assistance, made the going tough. It was impossible to run it like a normal investigation, in which she would interview everyone involved and look to talk them into an error or oversight. It was like wading in quicksand at the moment, and her frustration was immense. She was making no headway, sinking into the morass with no sign of release.

  Better, then, to focus on the aspects of the case that she could deal with. It was time to rewind and start from the beginning.

  She’d already brought her laptop outside. She switched it on and set up the CCTV video files from the school to watch again. This time she stuck to the spliced film rather than raw footage, trying to see it all with a fresh eye.

  Sydney went through it twice more. Nothing caught her attention that she had not noticed before. She found little to suggest it had not all happened exactly as three law-enforcement agencies had previously stipulated.

  Her mind began to wander again. She couldn’t shake the terrible murders of Sonia and Gerry Kasper from her thoughts, fearing her involvement, that she was somehow inadvertently connected, perhaps even responsible, but not having a clue as to how or why. It had to be something to do with her father, but did it also therefore have anything to do with the high school shootings? She found herself going around in circles once more, getting nowhere fast.

  Her thoughts turned to Benton Lowe. She hated even contemplating the possibility of him working against her. His behaving professionally and doing his job as county sheriff was fine by her; she expected nothing less of him. And although he was acting as if he was open-minded regarding the shooter’s identity, in showing her the CCTV film he was also seeking to break down her resolve. That, too, was acceptable. So long as the reason behind it was not because he was in deep with the Sonora PD or the mayor’s office.

  As her mind replayed the period during Saturday lunchtime when she and Benton first examined the footage together, Sydney had a thought. Not about who had been captured on film, but rather who was absent from it. Benton’s initial assured stance on Kevin Muller’s guilt had been partially based on witness testimony. Or so he had insisted. Only, when questioned more closely about the claim, he reluctantly admitted that the janitor’s entire story was flaky and unsubstantiated. To put it bluntly, Dave Tabbert was the kind of witness she would have determined to be unreliable.

  Benton had used him only as a way to brush her off, but then later accepted he had come to regard the janitor as someone who had sought the limelight in the immediate aftermath of the shootings. Sydney wondered about that, and after a long moment called Benton.

  Before she had a chance to ask him anything, he told her Isaac was on board. The two of them had discussed the whole sorry issue the previous week, but he admitted they had always intended to do more. In talking about it, they both realised they had to step up those plans. After putting their heads together they decided to work separately, with Isaac figuring out a way into the DeVeer kid, while Benton dealt with Cole as originally planned.

  ‘I doubt you’ll get too far with either of them,’ Sydney said, though she was delighted to hear he was taking a more positive role. ‘But it’s worth giving it a go.’

  ‘I think the DeVeer kid is a dead end. There is absolutely no connection with either him or his family as far as I can tell, though Isaac will take it as far as he is able to. It helps to have Dexter thought of as the agitator if we have to talk about a complaint being made. I’m glad he’s okay with us using him that way, although I can understand Baxter choosing not to be identified as the person who gave up the names of the three students.’

  ‘Me, too. Kevin was his pupil, not his son. No reason why he should risk losing his pension. He came across as genuinely upset last night at not being able to stick it to them, though.’ Once again, Sydney found herself conflicted over Baxter’s resolve, not knowing which of her instincts about him to rely on.

  Benton scoffed, and she imagined him rolling his eyes. ‘Duncan likes
to consider himself edgy and anti-establishment, but we all have our limits.’

  ‘What do you reckon to him in general, Ben? He seem genuine to you?’

  A lengthy pause followed. Benton was reserved, which Sydney understood. Their disagreement the evening before had stung both of them. She could just about hear the cogs whirring in his mind.

  ‘Why do you ask about Baxter, Syd?’

  ‘I did some thinking last night and this morning and something occurred to me. Prior to her being murdered, Duncan was the only person who knew I was in touch with Sonia Kasper. He also knew I’d encountered her husband, and why.’

  ‘And… you’re saying what exactly?’

  Slapping a hand against her thigh, Sydney said, ‘That’s just it. I don’t know what I’m saying. It seems preposterous to even consider him being involved with either what happened to my father or the murders on Monday evening. All I am saying is he knew what I was thinking and who I was thinking it about. He could have mentioned all this to someone else. Somebody working against us.’

  ‘Sydney, I get where your head is at, but it seems kind of out there to me. Can we put a pin in that? We have other things to chase down.’

  ‘You’re right. Which is why I called you, Ben. Your witness at the high school, the janitor, Dave Tabbert… what’s his story do you think?’

  ‘Heck, Sydney. And you complained I was flitting around from one thing to another. Why are you bothering with him? I know I kind of used Tabbert to steer you away at first, but the guy was looking for his fifteen minutes of fame is all.’

  ‘He’s a person of interest. To me, at least.’

  ‘You can’t speak to him. You know that. You have no authority.’

  ‘Sure. But if I happened to bump into him and we somehow got to talking, that would be no more than a chat between two complete strangers. Nothing anyone can do about that.’

  Benton was quiet for a few seconds. Sydney could imagine what he was thinking, asking himself whether he had overlooked anything before agreeing to her proposal.