by Wayne Purdy
My email notification was on. I opened it and read the new message. It was from Nowak. It included a link. I clicked on it too, opening the file. It was two pages with a Canadian Armed Forces letterhead. The first was the flight manifest dated the day before Gracie was killed. I scanned the list of names until I came to Nowak, Robert Bruce. I looked at the second page. It had the same letterhead, dated on the day Gracie was killed. It was the active duty roster. I looked for Nowak’s name. He was listed as active, but on convalescent leave. This wasn’t unexpected. Nowak had told me that he was furloughed to attend his mother’s funeral. This was just confirmation. He couldn’t have killed Gracie. He wasn’t even on the same continent. That was one less suspect to investigate. I printed the documents and added them to the file.
“When do we leave?”
The question caught me off guard. “What do you mean ‘we’?”
She took a deep breath and took a moment to gather her thoughts before answering. “Just hear me out, Heck,” she said, and paused, waiting for me to answer. I nodded, curious to see where this was going. “I’ve already told you about my plans in the fall, about going back to school. I’ve only got one year left, and I want to finish it this year. The thing is, I’ve been out for five years now. I feel like I need an edge, something to set me apart from all those kids.”
“Kids? Hazel, you’re only 28,” I felt the need to remind her. “You’re a kid yourself.”
“Maybe. Maybe not. I’ve lost my confidence. They are all so much smarter than me. I haven’t been a student in so long.” She sighed. “I don’t expect you to understand, but for the first time in a long time, I feel energised. I’m going back to school. I’m going to do something that Jaimie can be proud of. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not embarrassed about being a stripper, but it can’t be a forever thing. It’s literally a young woman’s job-”
“Where did you get this idea that you aren’t a young woman?” I interrupted her, genuinely curious. She wasn’t wrong about the stripping. There was a time limit attached to it, but she was light years away from it.
“I won’t be young forever,” she said, ignoring the interruption. “I have to look ahead, and I like where I’m headed. Finally breaking free from Eddie has been a godsend. I feel lighter. I can’t believe how simpler…clearer…my life is without him in it. I feel like a great weight has been lifted. For the first time since I hurt myself, I feel like I can do something. Something good.”
It was hard to argue with that. If this investigation could help Hazel heal. Help her move forward, then it would be unkind to keep her out of it. I would do all the interviews. She would be along as strictly an observer, offering me her insight as we went. I didn’t think it could hurt.
◆◆◆
That afternoon I climbed down the rickety stairs to Pandora’s. I went through the back door past Regards’ office, but he wasn’t there. That was unusual-especially at this time of day- but not unheard of. I spotted Alice filling out her inventory paperwork. The beer and liquor deliver came on Mondays. She was restocking.
“Hi Alice,” I said.
“Heck,” she said. She reached into the fridge and pulled out a chilled bottle of water and tossed it to me. “Heads up.”
I caught it and unscrewed the lid, taking a big sip. “Where’s everyone?”
Alice rolled her eyes. “We should rename this place the Drama Club. There’s something going on. I think they are all in the dressing room.”
I understood what she meant. At the risk of sounding like a misogynist, having this many women together could be challenging. I’m sure having a group of men ain’t no picnic, but there would be less emotional fallout. I made my way to the dressing room, stopping to talk to Ross, the doorman on duty. He was standing near Pervert’s Row, but the bar wasn’t busy, and he didn’t have much to worry about. We shook hands.
“Hector. Good to see you.”
“You too. What’s going on?”
“Lexus came in a little banged up. Looks like her old man smacked her around some.” I didn’t realise that Lexus was in a relationship. It wasn’t long ago that she came on to me.
“She all right?”
“I guess so. She’s got a heck of a shiner. If she were a man, I’d say something like, ‘you should see the other guy,’ but that doesn’t seem so funny.”
“I know what you mean.”
“I’ll tell you what? If I did see the other guy right now…” Ross didn’t finish. He clenched his fist tightly instead. Ross had a rough childhood. His dad up and left one day, and his mom took up with a mean sonuvabitch, used to slap her around pretty bad. Ross tried to stop him, but he was only a boy, and a small one at that. That’s when he started with the martial arts. He never wanted to be helpless again. As a grown man, he had a soft spot for battered women, like he was finally able to protect his mother. I think it’s why he took the job. He doesn’t need it. He runs his own dojo during the day. It’s his way of giving back.
I patted him on the shoulder in a show of camaraderie. I opened the door to the dressing room. “Everyone decent?” I asked before entering. The dressing room was for the girls. It was their private space. Even though I had seen every one of these girls naked, I would never intrude on their privacy. It wasn’t my right.
“Back here,” Regards said. I went inside. Lexus sat at a dressing table. I could see her reflection in the vanity mirror. Her left eye was black and swollen. Her other eye was red and puffy from crying. “You can’t dance like this. I’m sorry, but you’re just not presentable.”
Porsche shot him a glare. Regards hadn’t meant to sound callous, but the strip club game is all about presentation. “We can cover this up,” Porsche said, trying to brush some foundation on Lexus’s face. She’d need spackle and a putty knife.
“Are you going to be okay? Do you have a place to go?”
“No,” she sobbed.
“What about your folks?” Hazel asked.
“There’s no one,” Lexus said between tears. “I don’t have anyone.”
“Yes, you do. You’ve got us. I’m going to put you in a motel tonight. Then, tomorrow, I know a lady. She runs a women’s shelter. We’ll get you a bed. Everything will be good,” Regards said.
“What if he looks for her? What if that bastard tries to hurt her? Or worse?” Cinnamon looked at me. “Can you help her? Teach her to fight back?”
I called Lexus over. She was small, just a wisp of a girl, but the assault seemed to have changed her. She was always fragile, but now she was broken. “I’ll teach you a few basic moves, but this is a last resort, understand? If you have a choice between fight or flight, you run. Every. Single. Time.”
“I will, Heck,” she said in a low voice.
“Good. Your power starts from the ground up. You need to plant your feet. Keep your feet shoulder width apart, like this,” I demonstrated with my own feet, and she mimicked me. “Good. Now when you strike, keep your fist clenched, with the thumb on the outside. Don’t tuck it into your hand. You’ll end up with a broken thumb. Good. Then, twist your hips when you throw the punch. That will maximise your power. Perfect. Now bring your fist back in so you can either block or throw another. A rule of thumb is, out like an arrow, back like you touched fire. Go for the nose, throat, or nuts. Those three areas will usually give you time to get away.”
“What if he doesn’t stop?” Hazel asked. I looked away from Lexus. All the girls were in the same stance, practicing self defense.
“What do you mean?”
“What if, he’s so drunk, or high, or mad, that one punch doesn’t stop him?”
“In that case, hit him again. If in the heat of the moment, you forget everything else, just remember these three little things; hit first, hit hard, hit often.” Hazel nodded, and then practiced throwing more phantom punches. The other girls followed suit.
13
Hector
I picked Hazel and Jaimie up in the morning and drove them to my sister’s house. Cas
s agreed to look after Jaime until we returned the next evening. Agreed was underselling it. Cass was overjoyed. In her mind, the fact that Hazel and I were going on a trip together, an over-night trip, was portentous of something more. We may as well have been eloping. She liked Hazel. Everyone liked her. I tried to protest. “We’re not going on vacation.”
“Really?” She said, her eyebrows arched in the annoying, I-told-you-so expression that she really ought to patent.
“It’s a business trip.”
“A stripper business trip?” She asked, a wry smile drawn across her face. She had me beat. I couldn’t tell her I was on police business, being that I wasn’t with the police, and it would take far too long to tell her the whole story.
“Fine,” I relented. “It’s a vacation.” This admission sent her over the moon. She was only too glad to take Jaimie if I was courting Hazel. The whole damned conversation made me uncomfortable.
Hazel was in the back yard, saying goodbye to Jaimie. She walked over to us teary-eyed. “Thank you so much, Cass,” Hazel said.
Cass reached out and patted Hazel on the arm. “It’s no problem. Honestly. The kids are so excited. They built a fort in the basement and they’re going to watch a movie. It’ll be fun.”
“I know. I just don’t leave her alone very often.”
“Well, I think you’re having a harder time of it than she is,” Jaimie was already in playing with Samantha and Artie. She showed no signs of the sadness her mother was feeling.
“We should hit the road.”
She looked at her daughter, waving in her direction. Jaimie didn’t notice. “I will call tonight. She likes me to sing songs at bedtime,” she told Cass.
“We’ll wait for your call. Have fun, you two,” Cass called after us.
“She sounded happy,” Hazel said, dabbing at her tear-streaked face.
“She thinks we’re going on some sort of date,” I told her.
“Oh,” Hazel replied a tad absent-mindedly. She was probably having second thoughts about leaving Jaimie.
“I’ve never left her with anyone but Eddie or Jessie,” she said, as if reading my thoughts.
“Never?”
“I don’t really have anyone else. My family and I aren’t speaking. They disowned me a long time ago.”
“That’s terrible,” I said. I couldn’t imagine ever doing anything bad enough that my parents would abandon me. I pitied her. A parent is meant to love unconditionally.
“My parents are proud people. Nothing is more important to them than appearances. Everything around them could be going to shit all around them, but they would never let on. Everything was status quo. Nothing to see here. Move along. There was nothing else more important to them.”
“Even their daughter?”
“Especially me. They had been disappointed in me for a long time. Before I got pregnant. I was a good student. I always studied hard, and I had good grades. My parents were dry cleaners and they worked long days to give me a better life. They saw me falling short of their goals. Their goals”, she said with a sneer. “I didn’t have goals. I had fits of fancy. Daydreams.”
“My parents only saw Jaimie once, just after she was born. When they found out that Eddie and I weren’t getting married, they left. Can you imagine? They didn’t like Eddie, but they thought I should marry him anyway. After I got in trouble, they were scandalised. They disowned me.”
“What kind of trouble?”
“Does it matter? They were my parents. They were supposed to have my back. I saw my mom a week ago. Do you know what she said? She wished that I was dead.” Her voice was flat, but I could tell that she was struggling to hold back tears. There was more to the story. I was sure of it. She was holding something back.
“I don’t know what to say. That must have been hard for you. And lonely.”
“Sometimes,” she agreed. She ran her hand along the scars on her forearm. “I have Jaimie and I swear she’ll never know what my disappointment feels like. I’m going to celebrate everything with her and support her through the bad times. And I have my sobo, my grandmother, she’s the only one left that I have any contact with. When I was in court, she came to every appearance. I think I’d have gone crazy without her.”
I drove along Steeles Avenue and the turned north onto the 404. From there it was only a short drive to Markham, according to my GPS. I took the liberty of preprogramming it the night before. “Do you think they’ll ever come around? Your parents?”
“I don’t know. I invite them to Jaimie’s birthday every year. They’ve never replied.”
“Do you have any brothers or sisters?”
She shook her head. “Only child. That probably made my failures worse for them. All their eggs in one basket, and all that.”
We fell into a comfortable silence. My thoughts drifted from her problems and back to the investigation. So far there were no credible leads for Sandra’s murder. The police had no witnesses, no murder weapon, and no motive. I was sure that the key to Sandra’s murder was going to be found in Gracie’s murder. These two strangers had become linked in death. If I found out who killed Gracie, I found out who killed Sandra. It ran counter to everything I knew as an investigator. Usually, you had to solve a murder quickly, before it lost momentum. This was never a good thing. The first hours were crucial, but I was ordered away from Sandra. That was Zaki’s case. I could only work Gracie’s murder.
Zaki was a good investigator, I knew that, but he was prone to shortcuts. That was always a source of conflict for us when we were partnered up. I was by-the-book, and he was focused on the finish line, and he wasn’t always particular about how he crossed the line. When we were ordered to drop the case, he followed orders. A murdered soldier on base could only mean a messy investigation. It had to be someone from inside the base. Another soldier. I wanted to chase down leads, and the only lead I had was Frank Bello. I know it couldn’t have been Bello now, I have perfect hindsight, but he must know something. Otherwise, why did he run?
“In 500 metres turn left,” the robotic female voice on my GPS commanded. I broke from my reverie and merged from the far-left lane and onto the off-ramp. Following her seemingly omniscient directions to the letter. It was always amusing to me how so many people blindly trust the technology only to end up driving into a lake. I liked gadgets, even if I couldn’t afford all the shiny new toys, but I didn’t trust them completely. Thankfully, it didn’t let me down this time. It led to a tidy semi-detached brick house on a maple lined street. The small lawn was mowed and there was a little garden with pops of colourful flowers and fresh mulch in the garden bed. The driveway was empty, but it had been recently re-surfaced. It was a deep black. Irwin Bobb clearly was proud of the little house he owned. It was obvious in its upkeep.
Hazel and I climbed the concrete steps leading to the front door. “You do the talking,” she said in a hushed voice. “I’ll just observe, unless I can think of anything to say.”
That was for the best. I was an experienced, if out of practice, interrogator. She was fresh. I would prefer that she not say anything at all. I rang the bell and heard it chime inside. A moment later, the door opened a crack. I could see the brass door chain stretched across the gap between door and jamb. A suspicious eye peered out. “Hello?” A woman’s voice asked cautiously.
“Good morning,” I replied in as cheery a voice as I could muster. “My name is Hector Collins, and this is my associate Hazel Abe.” I cocked my head towards Hazel, and she waved at the door.
Th suspicious eye squinted further. “You a cop?”
I had to be careful here. I wasn’t a cop and couldn’t legally identify myself as one. I couldn’t even identify myself as a private investigator because I wasn’t licensed. “No ma’am. I’m not a cop, but I am investigating a crime.”
The eye widened. I wasn’t sure if it was in disbelief or anger. “Irwin is a good man. He didn’t do anything wrong. You better come back with a warrant. And the police.”
Shit. I was out of practice. I put my hands up in mock surrender. “I’m sorry, Mrs. Bobb, is it?”
The eyeball nodded up and down. “I’m Geraldine. Irwin’s wife.”
“I’m sorry, Geraldine. I didn’t mean to imply that Irwin was in any trouble. He’s not a suspect or anything. He might be a witness. May we come in?”
There was a silence on the other end. The door closed and I could hear the chain being unlocked and then the door opened fully. Geraldine was a tall, thin black woman. She had black hair that hung to her shoulders in thin braids. She wore a pair of jean shorts and a tank top and had a pair of gardener’s gloves tucked into her waistband. “I was just going outside to pull weeds. We can talk out there,” she said curtly. It was obvious that Hazel and I were making her nervous. “What do you want with Irwin?”
“It has to do with Afghanistan. I was with the military police then-”
“I thought you said you weren’t a cop?” Both of her eyes screwed down suspiciously this time.
“I’m not. I used to be, but I was injured.” I tapped my eyepatch, hoping to play the sympathy card. “I can’t be a cop anymore.”
Her features softened. “That happen over there?”
“Yes. I was investigating a murder at the time. I caught an IED, improvised explosive device, and-”
“You mean a bomb?”
“Yes. A bomb. The shrapnel tore out my eye. I was lucky. It could have been worse.”
She didn’t say anything else, but I could see that she agreed. I wondered if maybe Irwin Bobb was injured in the line of duty too. “You said you’re investigating a murder? Irwin never said nothing about a murder. He would have told me. He told me everything else. He saw a lot of bad things over there, done bad too, but he didn’t murder nobody. He done a lot of killing. Men always do in war, but it wasn’t murder. He still has nightmares sometimes.”