An Indecent Death

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An Indecent Death Page 8

by David Anderson


  At the office Gail McCall introduced Drumm to the principal, who had just arrived. There were many more people about now as the school came to life, preparing for the normal busy day. The principal invited Drumm back into his office and waved him to a seat. Drumm noted the bulk of the man, the red face and sweaty forehead. He had been warned about this and Lori hadn’t exaggerated; the perspiration seemed to be a recurring problem.

  “How can I help you, Detective?”

  Drumm preferred to be addressed by his proper rank but he didn’t normally make an issue of it. “We’re going to need to interview a number of your staff, Mr. Shaughnessy, and I thought it would be the least disruptive for you if we did it here at school. If you don’t object, that is? I thought you could lend us a room, out of the way, and we could talk to some of your people, as unobtrusively as possible. Can you arrange coverage so that we can call your teachers out of their rooms for a bit?” Drumm was polite, but in reality he was issuing orders, and James Shaughnessy knew it.

  The principal blinked rapidly a few times, then said, “Um, absolutely, Detective Drumm. Just give me a minute to – I think we can find someone. It’ll mean a bit of disruption to programming but it won’t be the first time that’s happened.” He excused himself and was back shortly. “All arranged. We have an empty conference room on the second floor, Room 223. You can use that. For now, Bill Deans, our VP, will cover the classrooms of anyone you want to talk to. Will that do?”

  Drumm was impressed. “Certainly. That will work just fine. I’m expecting Detective Singh shortly. When she gets here, we’ll begin with Mr. Donald Musjari.”

  Donald Musjari came into Room 223 shortly after nine. He didn’t look thrilled to be there. Drumm introduced himself and Lori Singh, asked him to be seated and then studied the man before him. He already knew Musjari was of Arab descent, so he wasn’t surprised to see black hair and dark skin. Musjari was powerfully built with broad shoulders but he was only about five feet seven, Drumm estimated. He had on a striped sweater over a dress shirt and dark slacks. He looked fit and athletic.

  “How long have you been at this school, Mr. Musjari?” Lori asked.

  “Almost three years now. Three years next month.”

  “And you teach fifth grade. Do you like it?”

  “Oh, yes. Fourth or fifth grade, they’re my favourites. The kids are still mostly interested, not like the sevens and eights.”

  Drumm said, “How well did you know Sarah Noonan, Mr. Musjari?”

  Musjari looked uncomfortable. “As well as most people, I guess. We talked a bit, now and then. But we’re in different – we were in different divisions. She was intermediate, I’m junior, so there was no planning together or anything like that.”

  “Were you interested in her, Mr. Musjari?” Lori asked.

  “Interested?” Musjari looked even more uncomfortable. “What do you mean?”

  “Come on! You know what she means!” Drumm had raised his voice, now he lowered it. “She was a good-looking woman, you’re a good-looking guy – were you interested in dating her? Did you ever ask her out? You’re single, aren’t you?”

  Musjari slid his eyes away from Drumm’s steady gaze and said, “I’m single, yes. But she wasn’t interested in me.”

  “That’s not what I asked, is it?” Drumm was leaning forward. “Were you interested in her?”

  “Alright! Yes, I was interested in her. She was cute and sexy as hell – who wouldn’t be? But she wouldn’t have anything to do with me.”

  “You tried, then, Mr. Musjari?” Lori asked.

  Donald Musjari’s eyes switched to the female detective. “Yes.” His voice was quiet. “I asked her to go for a drink a few months ago and she kissed me off.” His voice was rising. “She told me she was busy but I knew that wasn’t it. It was because I’m Arab!”

  “She told you that?” Lori sounded sympathetic, thought Drumm.

  “She didn’t have to, I could tell. She didn’t like me, would hardly talk to me. But with the others…” Musjari stopped suddenly.

  “Yes? With what others?” Lori asked.

  “No, never mind. I shouldn’t have said that. She didn’t like me, I’ll just leave it at that.”

  “Do you mean she dated some of the other teachers, Mr. Musjari?” Lori was pressing for an answer.

  “You’ll have to ask them, won’t you? I wouldn’t know.”

  “Where were you Friday night, Mr. Musjari?” Drumm asked.

  “Friday? I went out to Casey’s with a friend. We had some drinks, something to eat, And then we were over at Sparkles for a while.” The answer came out quick and sure.

  Drumm knew that Sparkles was a nightclub, but it wasn’t a place he frequented himself. “What time did you get home?”

  “Would have been about eleven, I think. I pooped out. It was a long week.”

  “Your friend’s name, Mr. Musjari?”

  “His name’s Omar, Omar Khan. We’ve been friends for years. He’ll vouch for me.”

  “You said you were drinking at Casey’s and Sparkles?” asked Drumm. “I didn’t think your religion allowed that.”

  “Just because I’m Arab doesn’t mean I’m a strict Muslim. I quite often go out for dinner or a drink. Just like normal people,” Musjari said pointedly.

  Musjari’s sarcasm was a sign of the anger just below the surface, Drumm thought.

  “Alright, Mr. Musjari, I understand you. Give your friend’s address to Detective Singh here. That’s all for now, thank you. But we’ll probably need to speak to you again.” Drumm stood up.

  Musjari rose also, squared his shoulders and looked Drumm right in the eyes. “Sarah’s death was nothing to do with me.” And he left.

  “What do you think, Lori?” Drumm had sat down again.

  “He seemed defensive. And uncomfortable.”

  “There was something between them, wasn’t there? That came through loud and clear.” Drumm was rubbing his chin.

  “Yes, I agree. And it will be interesting to find out what these other teachers have to say.”

  “Check out this Omar dude, Lori. See if he’s real or something out of The Arabian Nights.”

  Their next subject rushed into the interview room like a breath of fresh air, after the rather edgy presence of Don Musjari. “Kevin Callaghan,” he said, holding out his hand. Drumm shook it, then introduced himself and his partner.

  They established that Callaghan taught third grade, he was twenty-seven years old and had been at Elmdale for two years, a teacher for five. He answered these questions readily, with a friendly smile and an easy manner. Callaghan was boyish in appearance, with blue eyes, a roundish face and long, brown hair. He was constantly brushing it out of his eyes. In a golf shirt and blue slacks, he was dressed rather casually for a teacher, Lori thought. With the runners on his feet, he could have been heading out to the golf course.

  “How well did you know Sarah Noonan, Mr. Callaghan?” Drumm asked.

  “Oh, pretty well, I guess. She was fun to be around. We shared a few laughs together.”

  Drumm asked, “Did you ever see her socially? Go out for a drink, that sort of thing?”

  “Sure. We saw quite a lot of each other for a few months. But it was nothing serious. I wasn’t looking for anything permanent, you understand. Just a pleasant evening, some interesting conversation. She was good company.”

  “What was the exact nature of your relationship with Sarah Noonan, Mr. Callaghan?” Drumm sat back in his chair, with his hands behind his head.

  “The nature of our relationship? Oh, you mean, were we having sex? Well, yeah, a few times. She was up for it, that’s for sure. She was one hot lady.” Callaghan was smiling again in remembrance.

  “You said you weren’t looking for anything permanent, Mr. Callaghan? Was she?”

  “Sarah? God, no. She’d already tried that and it didn’t work out. No, she was just out for fun. She liked teasing, flirting, dressing up. Sarah just wanted a fun evening now and then, and s
he liked me well enough. We got along.”

  “How did these ‘encounters’ with Sarah work, Mr. Callaghan?” asked Lori. “I mean, did you go to her apartment and then go out? Or did you meet her somewhere else?”

  “Ah, both, actually. And sometimes I’d meet her at her place and we wouldn’t go out.” Callaghan smiled. “If you know what I mean. But that was only once. Usually she liked to go out and party.”

  “Were you the only man she was seeing, Mr. Callaghan?” Drumm asked.

  “Oh, I doubt it! Like I said, she was a flirt and looking for fun. I think she was finding it with other guys as well.”

  “Any idea who, Mr. Callaghan? Maybe her husband, Terry Noonan? Or maybe someone else from the school here?”

  Kevin Callaghan was shaking his head. “Not her husband, no, she said she was done with him, and I believed her.”

  Lori Singh asked, “Do you think her husband knew she was dating you? And maybe other men as well?”

  “Oh! I don’t know. My guess is he probably did. She didn’t make any secret of it.”

  Drumm asked again, “And was she seeing other men from the school, Mr. Callaghan?”

  “Um, yes, I think so. Bill Deans, I would say, for sure. Although he and I never talked about it.” He got a little grin on his face. “There were rumours about the two of them. In the storage room.”

  “There were rumours that she had sex with Bill Deans, the vice-principal? Here at school, in a storage room? And you believe these stories?” Drumm leaned forward.

  Callaghan looked a little sheepish as he answered. “Well, yeah, there were rumours. And, yeah, I believed them, because, well… I had done pretty much the same thing with her in the girls’ change room one night.” He looked at the two detectives. “You were bound to find out anyway. I thought I’d better ‘fess up!” There was the grin again. “There was nobody around, we thought, and she was up for it, and …it just happened.”

  Lori said, “You know, you’re talking about a lot of casual sex. Some of it sounds like it was spur-of-the-moment. She was prepared for this kind of thing, then? Did she make you wear a condom, for example?”

  For the first time Callaghan looked uncomfortable. “I used condoms, yes. I’m not a fool, you know. She said she was using birth control but I wasn’t sure who else she had been with. So a condom was a must. I don’t want to catch something nasty.”

  Drumm asked, “How do you think these stories got around the school, Mr. Callaghan? You said you thought you were alone. How would anyone find out? Did you leave some of her clothing behind, maybe, like her underwear?”

  Callaghan smiled. “No, nothing like that. Sarah didn’t wear underwear, not that I ever saw. It was one of the things that made her so hot. No, I think someone must have seen us going in or coming out. A bit suspicious, coming out of a store room or change room with a guy. And before you ask who might have seen her, or us, you might ask Pierre Pepin, he of the missing tooth.”

  “Pierre Pepin, the custodian?” Drumm asked. “But he says he goes home at 3:30. Surely you were later than that?”

  Callaghan looked surprised. “Really? Well, he may say he goes home at 3:30 but Mr. Weirdo Pepin is always here. Every time you turn around, he seems to be there, grinning at you with that strange smile of his.”

  Drumm said, “What about Donald Musjari, Mr. Callaghan? Was he involved with Sarah Noonan?”

  Callaghan snorted. “Him? Not likely! Sarah couldn’t stand him. He’s a moody bugger, got a chip on his shoulder. Thinks the world owes him a favour because he’s Arab. Don’s a good teacher but he’s not the most pleasant guy to be around. And I know it bothered Sarah that he was staring at her at the gym.”

  “The gym? You mean The Fit Life?”

  “Yeah, that’s the one. He had a membership there; so did Sarah. And Lynnette Cranston did as well. Both Sarah and Lynn felt that Don was staring at them, when they happened to see him there, like he was paying too much attention to them. They didn’t like it. So she said, anyway. I wasn’t there – I don’t have a membership.”

  “And Friday night, Mr. Callaghan? Where were you?”

  “I was at the casino, Detective. Got home in the wee hours.”

  “Rama?” At Callaghan’s nod, Drumm continued, “How did you get there?”

  “I drove, of course,” said Callaghan.

  “Did you go with anyone?”

  “No, I went by myself.”

  “Did anyone see you there? Maybe one of the employees?”

  “I wouldn’t know,” said Callaghan. “But I think they have security cameras. Maybe you can check?”

  “We’ll look into it. How did you do?”

  “Do?”

  “At the casino,” said Drumm. “How did you do? Did you win a bundle?”

  “Oh. No. I lost about two hundred.” Callaghan looked rueful.

  “Bad luck. Thanks, Mr. Callaghan, you’ve been helpful and candid. I’m sure we’ll be talking to you again.”

  Donald Musjari was in a surly mood as he watched his class eating their meal at first nutrition break. The students sensed his displeasure and were better behaved than usual, not wanting to risk his angry tongue. Most of them liked Mr. Musjari but there were days when he was better left alone, and this was one of them.

  He was annoyed because of the way his interview had gone. He was sure he had messed up and said too much. He hated having to tell them that Sarah had rejected his date suggestion. He had lied about that, because he had asked her three times, not just once, and she had said no every time. Damn her! Musjari got his class outside and went out to his car to eat something himself.

  ten

  Drumm arrived at Luigi’s just before noon to find no line-up, just a steady stream of hungry patrons entering the restaurant. The entrance was all ferns and fountains, and subdued lighting. Drumm was shown to one of his favourite tables in a back corner where he ordered a ginger ale and waited for Emily. The two of them had eaten here many times, enjoying its atmosphere, moderate prices and good food. It wasn’t as busy or noisy as some of the chain restaurants, and Drumm liked the cook’s personal touches. Emily was vegetarian, and more than once she had been treated to a special creation by the chef.

  And then she was there, standing tall and slim in front of him, dressed in a grey skirt and black leather jacket. He rose quickly to his feet but she was already pulling back the chair and sliding into her seat.

  “It’s good to see you, Nicky.” She looked him over carefully.

  He did the same to her. “And you, Emily.” She looked delicious, with her shoulder-length brown hair and her fine skin, her brilliant blue eyes staring straight at him. She looked thirty-four, not forty-four, but then she always dressed and acted younger than her age. The few wrinkles that were starting to appear were artfully disguised with the small amount of make-up that she was willing to use. Her full lips, lipstick-free, were pursed as she gazed at him.

  “How are you? And how’s Will?” Emily leaned forwards and put her elbows on the table. She kept her jacket on, he noticed, all zipped up.

  “I’m the same as always, Emily. You know me, Mr. Unchangeable. And Will is as perky as a two-year-old. Needs more exercise, though. Something to drink?”

  Their waiter arrived, introduced himself to Emily and took her drink order: her usual Perrier water. She prided herself on her slim figure and was determined to keep it that way. They busied themselves for the next few minutes with the menu, a little shy with each other, before finally settling on their choices.

  When their server had come and gone with their order, Drumm asked, “How’s the market, Emily? Keeping you busy?”

  “Things have been good, Nicky, surprisingly good, actually. I’ve sold six houses in the past month. And there’s no sign of things slowing down yet. And how’s the Violent Crimes business?”

  “Violent. Never a dull moment. Just now we’re busy with the Sarah Noonan murder.”

  “Oh, I read about that in the paper. A teacher kill
ed in a park, wasn’t it? Terrible thing. Are you getting anywhere? Any suspects? It’s usually the boyfriend or husband, isn’t it?”

  “She actually wasn’t killed in the park, Em. And you know I can’t talk about the case. But, yes, we have suspects, too many of them. And the husband is one. But no more about that, OK? I’m on my lunch break.”

  “Sorry, Nicky. I know you can’t talk about it. It’s just – this is a little awkward after all this time – and I’m just trying to break the ice, is all.”

  “So tell me about the counseling, Emily. You said you were seeing a doctor. What’s his name? And how’s it going?”

  “It’s a woman, actually, Dr. Laura Schlesinger.” Emily’s nose twitched a little as she grinned. “Just kidding, her name is actually Dr. Laura Schuster. She’s a psychologist. I’ve been seeing her for a couple of months, and it’s helping. She has a way of getting me to see myself in a different light. Or maybe I should say, as others see me.”

  “So Dr. Laura told you to get back together with me?” Drumm was being deliberately provocative, but, after all, Emily had called him.

  “Of course she didn’t, Nicky! Psychologists don’t work that way. She just helped me to realize what was important in my life. How to meet my goals. Things like that.”

  “And what’s important in your life, Emily?”

  “You, Nicky. You. I thought I said that on the phone. And she’s helped me to see that I was expecting too much of you. I know I was wrong to want you to give up being in the VCU. Dr. Laura has got me to see that being a detective is what makes you who you are, and it was unfair of me to ask you to stop. She said that if I loved you, then the police work came with you. I couldn’t have one without the other.”

  Their food arrived and they were quiet for the next little while as the server made sure that they were satisfied with their orders. Drumm began to enjoy his meal, and the more he ate, the more relaxed he became. He had been a little on edge and on his guard, but Emily’s spirit was working on him like a magic potion. It was almost like it had been in the old days.

 

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