by Liz Turner
“Yes. A very good one too.”
“Thanks,” Steve said. “Well, the mosaic required a lot of planning, so I got quite comfortable wandering in and out of their house. Declan and I became somewhat friendly too.”
“I didn’t know that.”
“Well, we did. He told me a lot about his own past, you know. That he’d spent his early twenties in Hollywood, for example, doing a day job as a waiter and studying drama and theater at night.”
“He was an actor?” Victoria said, surprised. “Well, I suppose he does have the good looks of one.”
“He had talent too, I think,” Steve said. “Declan told me he had worked in two different movies that won him local awards. Unfortunately, though he acted well, both movies themselves were terrible and he didn’t quite have a career.”
“If he was telling the truth, that should be easy enough to verify,” Adam said. “But why do you bring it up, Steve?”
“Because the entire time he was here, I was watching him.” Steve said, “And I think Declan is a lot smarter than we give him credit for. He disarmed us all. He made us feel sorry for him, and then he made us want to root for him as the underdog.”
“What are you saying?” Adam asked.
“That I wonder how much his roots as an actor helped him with that little charade.”
“Charade? I thought he looked genuinely grief-struck.” Adam said.
“I thought not,” Steve said. “He looked and sounded like a very good actor giving a monolog.”
Victoria considered this. No, what Steve said didn’t feel right. After all, she had looked into Declan’s eyes, and he seemed convincingly upset and unhappy about LeeLee’s death.
Yet…
Yet she wondered whether a good enough actor might be able to fake that like Steve said.
“How about that other bit, though?” Adam asked. “That’s what I want to know more about.”
“What other bit?” Steve looked confused.
“LeeLee’s daughter!” Adam said. “Declan casually slipped it into his speech but he mentioned that one of the reporters had found out that LeeLee had given a daughter up for adoption a long time ago. If LeeLee did have a biological daughter, who would inherit her estate?”
“So the murders are linked, then?” Steve said, considering. “I always thought that the red-coated girl was just a mentally disturbed tourist who somehow snuck into the party and then killed herself. I still think that.”
“No,” Victoria said. “I told this to Corporal Jager too, and he agreed with me. Someone local had to show that girl how to get up that trail. It’s too well hidden for her to just have stumbled on it. Besides which, she had no car and she didn’t have the proper shoes. How did she just blunder her way up there? No, I think it was a murder. That trail is very rarely used and if the rockslide hadn’t occurred the night before, I might never even have seen her body given the steep cliff in that area.”
“Alright. Fine.” Steve said. “Maybe it’s a murder instead. But why would it be connected to LeeLee?”
“Because the girl in the red coat was LeeLee’s biological daughter!” Adam said excitedly. “That has to be the case, doesn’t it? LeeLee abandoned her at birth, and now this girl came back into her life. Perhaps LeeLee murdered the girl herself, and then in a fit of unhappiness, killed herself the next week…”
“If what you’re saying is true and the girl was LeeLee’s daughter…” Steve said, “And mind you that’s a really big if. Even then it makes more sense that Declan committed the crime. Maybe he figured out she was LeeLee’s daughter somehow and killed her, then he panicked and killed LeeLee too.”
“It’s a possibility.” Adam conceded. “Though after the way, he sobbed today I can’t find it in my heart to doubt him. Maybe it is best if we just let the police continue their investigation without making up our own theories.”
Chapter 13
Victoria couldn’t sleep that night.
Threads of conversation kept spilling over in her brain and joining other, unrelated thoughts. She thought back to everything that had occurred since the day she found the red-coated girl’s body. That was the beginning of this whole affair, wasn’t it?
No. Victoria told herself. That was inaccurate. The murder of the red coated girl wasn’t the beginning. From the point of view of the murderer and the girl, it was, in fact, an end. There was a thread stretching behind that point, a thread which, followed to its true beginnings, would reveal the motive and the true killer of the girl.
But how about LeeLee’s death, then? Victoria wondered. In her mind, she imagined a tape, with the magnetic strip running backward, showing every detail of LeeLee’s life. The death, and before that, the conversation with Corporal Jager, the party, and before that… a complicated, diverse life.
Did the two threads intersect at any point in the past? They must, Victoria knew. That was the only way for it all to make sense.
Or were her assumptions making the case foggier? What had George said the other day? That Randolf didn’t like to make assumptions early in the case because they led to incorrect theories. Which led to crucial evidence being ignored because it didn’t fit the theory. Which led to cases going unsolved.
What assumptions was she making?
First, of course, was the assumption that the red coat girl and LeeLee were both murdered. Second, was the assumption that the murders were connected in some way. The fact that two unusual events had happened this close to one another didn’t really mean they were connected.
Victoria squinted, trying to think of the case from this angle. What if the red coat girl had never been found? Would LeeLee even have been dead? If she had been killed, as a standalone event, what would the assumptions have been?
Suicide, or Declan killing her. Those would have been the leading theories, Victoria realized.
But Declan was right. LeeLee had lived a complicated, diverse life. She had just thrown a lavish birthday party, where she had invited many powerful men and women.
What was the first assumption LeeLee herself had made when Randolf had asked her about the red coat girl? LeeLee had immediately dismissed her as a spy, saying that she must have been blackmailing one of the senators.
Why had LeeLee’s mind jumped to blackmail as a conclusion? Was there a possibility, however slim, that LeeLee herself had been blackmailing someone at that party?
Thinking carefully, Victoria tried to go over the whole scene again, the last time she had seen LeeLee alive. She had arrived at LeeLee’s house, spoken to Karen and Steve, then gone into an adjacent room where Randolf was talking to LeeLee and Declan together.
What had LeeLee said then? There was some talk of coats, and then... Victoria jumped up suddenly. A CD! LeeLee had talked about a missing CD!
Putting on her jeans and a sweater, Victoria crept out of the house, suddenly, desperately needing a walk. She walked feverishly, her mind going over and over what she was formulating.
Before she knew it, her steps had led her to a small yellow cottage with a sloping roof and navy blue window shutters. A chimney puffed on the rooftop, and a single light was on in the upper left room. Entering the gate, she knocked on the door.
It was an unusual little house. Funny to think that the NCO of their local RCMP detachment lived in a house that would have better suited a sweet witch in some fairytale. Or perhaps an elf.
Randolf came down, his hair sticking up from his head, stubble covering his cheeks. He was dressed in basketball shorts and a gray T-shirt and held a pistol in his hand.
“Oh.” He holstered the pistol when he saw who it was.
“Do you always greet guests like this?” Victoria asked.
“Only if they come knocking on my door at 2 am at night.” He said. “Why are you here, Victoria?”
“You were awake anyway,” Victoria said. “Weren’t you?”
“There you go, answering my questions with a question. You don’t do this to everybody, you know.” Randolf said.
“I must be special for you.”
“Don’t flatter yourself.” Victoria headed to the kitchen, “I don’t think I’ll be sleeping tonight, and I have to be up by five to start baking the bread and prepping.”
“Hmm,” Randolf said.
“So I needed a partner for my insomnia, and your light just happened to be on.”
“So you accidentally wandered over to my house at 2:00 a.m., saw my light on, and decided to come talk?” He asked.
“Well… no.” Victoria said. “I did come to see you.”
“Why?” He asked, waiting with a smile.
“The CD.” She said. “At LeeLee’s house, she’d mentioned a CD was missing from her house. A CD she wanted to send to vogue.”
Randolf nodded, remembering vaguely. “What about it?”
“Did you ever find it?” Victoria asked.
Randolf scratched his chin. “I didn’t think to look for the original CD, to be honest. She said it was just a CD about the party being made, wasn’t it? I did get a copy from her videographer.”
“Can we watch it?” Victoria asked, excited.
Randolf got out his laptop and put the CD in. “Sure, though it’s a very unusual request to make this late at night.”
“I just thought… maybe there was something in the CD? Something the murderer didn’t want anyone else to see? That’s why it was missing.”
“Let’s have a look,” Randolf said. “I’m getting a little urge for a snack too. Want me to make popcorn?”
“How about a nice omelet and some tomato bread instead?” Victoria asked, opening his fridge and examining the contents. She brought out a tomato, sliced it in half, and poured salt and garlic powder on it.
“What’s that for?” Randolf asked, looking interested.
“Pan con Tomate.” She said. “Or tomato bread, if you want to be less fancy. I had it all the time when I went to Spain with Michael. It transforms boring old toast into pure delight.” Gripping the tomato with one hand, she grated it over the toast and then repeated on the other toast. Pulling the cutting board towards her, she chopped up some parsley, and sprinkled it on the toast, then cut them into thirds.
“That does look delicious,” Randolf said.
Efficiently, Victoria was now pouring the eggs into a saucepan and whisking them in it. “It’s a little unorthodox, but I hate using an extra container to whip the eggs when I can just do it in the pan.” She explained.
“Hey, I just eat em, they don’t have to be pretty,” Randolf said with a smile. He reached behind her and got out some glasses, and opened up a canister of orange juice. “Since we’re having an early breakfast, might as well break this out too.”
Working like this, side by side in his small kitchen felt like one of the most intimate things he’d ever done with a woman, Randolf thought. It felt natural and right. Like their place was right beside each other. The air was thick and warm, the entire atmosphere making his house feel like a home for the first time.
“That bread looks delicious.” He said. “I can’t wait for a bite.”
“Here.” She said instinctively. Cutting off a square, she popped a small piece into his mouth.
He swallowed it down and stood to smile at her, his hard features transformed into that of a tender, kind man. “Delicious.” He said, looking straight into her eyes. His voice was a whisper. Lost in the shades of blue that the rising sun brought out in his eyes, Victoria noticed in a faraway sort of way that there was a crumb sticking to his full lower lip.
Blinking, she kept herself from reaching out to touch it, and instead turned back to the laptop. “Looks like it’s booted up and ready to go.” She said, breaking the spell.
Randolf bought the laptop over to the table, and the two of them watched the CD from beginning to end. It seemed like a typical PR video with interviews from all the artists who were contributing. Victoria, to her surprise, was on it too and only now remembered giving the interview.
“Look at that you’re famous,” Randolf said. A little square under her head had “Victoria, Chef, and Caterer” printed on it, as Victoria was explaining her plans for the party.
Karen was interviewed next, and Steve.
But at the end of the video, neither Randolf nor Victoria could find a single thing that might make someone willing to murder LeeLee over it.
Chapter 14
They talked long into the night, with Randolf telling her as much as he could, without breaking procedure. They sat on opposing ends of the sofa, Randolf putting his feet up on a footstool, and Victoria curling her legs under her. Each of them sipping from a hot cup of tea.
“The case gets complicated.” Randolf said, “Because LeeLee was very careless about her security. As an artist, she was used to having people come in and out of her house. Plus, with the party having just gotten done and the workers still dismantling their installations, she had gotten even more careless. Declan said that the main door was open when he left in the afternoon at about 2 pm, although there were no workers then. LeeLee went to sleep around 2, and the main door was also open when he came back. So basically, they literally left the an open invitation for the murderer.”
Randolf sighed. “I can’t even blame them. Very few people in town bother locking their doors during the day. Someone’s always coming about.”
“Did anyone see?”
Randolf shook his head. “Bad luck, no. No witnesses about who may have gone to LeeLee’s house that day. For now, we just have Declan’s word that the door was open.”
“Did Declan’s alibi hold up?” Victoria asked.
“Wouldn’t you like to know.” Randolf had said, smiling.
“I’m just curious, honestly. Did it?”
“Declan had friends who can testify that he was with them.” Randolf said, “But the thing is, he was ten minutes from home. By and large, the group is sure that he was with them but he could easily have slipped out the back, driven home, killed LeeLee and come back to the bar without anyone noticing.”
“Do you think he did it?” Victoria asked.
“I don’t know,” Randolf said. “Declan is such a slimy guy that I instinctively dislike him. Still, he seems honest enough when he says he didn’t do it.”
“How about LeeLee’s will?” Victoria asked. “Declan mentioned something about a daughter…”
“LeeLee died intestate,” Randolf said. “Since she was an orphan herself, and as such since she left no will, the provincial government decides where her fortune goes. If Declan has lived with her under the same roof for at least a year, he’s defined as a common law spouse. He may get the remainder of her fortune and in fact, he probably will. He’ll have to jump through a lot of bureaucratic hoops though before he does.”
“If LeeLee had died intestate and her daughter had shown up on the scene…”
“So you heard that theory?” Randolf smiled. “That the red-coat girl was LeeLee’s daughter?”
“I think I was there for the conception of that particular theory,” Victoria smiled.
“Well, we’ve taken DNA samples from both so we’ll know very soon if they were related,” Randolf said. “If they were, then we’ll have a stronger case to place on Declan. Right now, we don’t really have anything. We have to treat this as a burglary.”
“Was anything reported stolen?” Victoria asked.
Randolf frowned. “Well, you see, we’re having a little problem with that.”
“Why?”
“Declan told us nothing has been stolen when we first asked him. He won’t change that story even now.” Randolf smiled. “I suspect that Declan is selling bits and pieces of the house off, for now, to supplement his income before he gets the rest of LeeLee’s money.”
Victoria raised an eyebrow.
Randolf shrugged. “It’s not strictly illegal if he does.” He said. “After all, he was living in that house with LeeLee, and possession is nine,tenths of the law.”
“Will you be arresting him soon?” Victoria a
sked.
“I’ve already told you too much,” Randolf said. “How about I ask you a few questions now?”
“Why would you?”
“Come on, Victoria, there’s one question you haven’t answered,” Randolf said. “Why are you so curious about this case?”
Victoria didn’t answer for a long time. “It’s because I don’t know the answer myself, really.” She said finally.
“You were a true crime writer with your late husband, weren’t you?” Randolf asked.
“Yes.” She said.
“Tell me about him,” Randolf said.
“There’s too much to tell.” She smiled. “There was my life before Michael, which is when I was a teen, and there is my life after Michael, which is now. The truth is I’ve never been by myself the way I am now. I’ve always had a man looking after me. I know, I know that I’m supposed to be a strong independent woman...”
“And you are,” Randolf said.
“And I am.” She agreed. “But I needed Michael. I always did. I think I have the kind of personality that gets addicted to things, and for years, I was addicted to Michael. He was moody, and wild, and so intelligent, and so charming. He always knew when I was down, and he always knew when to whisk me away on an adventure.” She had tears in her eyes, Victoria realized.
As if by magic, a handkerchief appeared in Randolf’s hand, which he passed over to her.
Victoria smiled at him. That was the kind of man Randolf was, quiet and capable. He gave you the feeling that if you laid any problem in front of him, he’d go efficiently and quickly to work solving it. He was the perfect cop, she thought, with a good combination of efficiency, integrity, and bravery.
“You make him sound like a hero,” Randolf said.
“He was my hero,” Victoria said. “My heart will always have a void in it, a Michael shaped place until I see him again.”
“Do you really think so?”
“He was… have you ever been in love like that, Randolf?” She asked.
“I had two wives,” Randolf said. “The first cheated on me; The second I married to take revenge on the first, a thing I will forever regret doing. Neither marriage worked out but while I have my scars, I don’t believe I ever loved the way you did.”