by H. P. Bayne
Sully sensed sarcasm and allowed himself a slight smile. “Right. I’ll get on that. In the meantime, maybe you can start doing some quiet digging. One thing you might want to do is see if you can figure out where Thackeray Schuster ended up. It could be he’s in hiding. I know he was more afraid than I am. But I think there’s a good possibility he’s dead, possibly murdered.”
“You’d see him then, wouldn’t you?”
“Not everyone who’s murdered sticks around. I haven’t seen Betty or Harry around either. Might turn out the three of them found each other and crossed over. You’ll also want to check into Harry’s death, for that matter. I’m willing to bet Dr. Gerhardt was more involved in it than he’s admitting.”
“Alleging the doctor killed a patient is a huge deal. I can’t just walk in there and do that.”
“I’m hoping you aren’t planning on walking in anywhere and throwing any of this around. The reason I haven’t made more progress isn’t just because I’m not in a position to do much with it. It’s also because I realize how out there it all sounds. I know it’s going to be hard to prove—maybe even impossible—but something needs to happen. These people can’t be allowed to get away with this just because they’re rich and powerful.”
“I don’t care about rich and powerful,” Forbes said. “And for the record, no, I’m not planning on throwing this stuff around. I know how to play my cards close. But a few things are going to have to be done, among them autopsies on the bodies.”
Autopsies. The word called something else to mind. “Lowell’s wife Kindra is the chief forensic pathologist. I’ve always liked her, but now I don’t know. What if she covered something up for him?”
“That’s a possibility. But maybe there weren’t autopsies in the first place. If the coroner didn’t have any real questions as to cause and manner of death, there wouldn’t necessarily be a need for a post-mortem. I’d expect there was in the kid’s death, but it might not have showed anything suspicious. The way you described it, he was held under and his body was later found downstream somewhere. It wouldn’t be unusual for there to be bruising on him from anything he bumped up against—if he was alive at that point. And being small, it wouldn’t have taken much pressure for Lowell to hold him down. With an adult, I’d expect far more signs of a struggle than you’d get with a small child.”
“So she could have missed it, is what you’re saying.”
“Sure. Or she covered up for her husband. No way of knowing until I can dig further into this. Leave it with me. I’ll pull some files, start trying to wrap my head around it. I’ll contact you with any further questions.”
Sully stood with Forbes, following him to the apartment door.
“This goes without saying, but watch yourself,” Sully said. “Pretty much anyone who’s gotten close on this thing is dead or missing. Don’t think you’re safe just because you’re a police officer. He won’t care. He’s gotten away with numerous murders already, and he won’t think anything of one more—especially since you’re someone he doesn’t have any feelings about. Lowell’s confident, and that makes him dangerous.”
“One thing about confidence, Gray,” Forbes said. “It makes people sloppy. When they start thinking they’re untouchable, that’s when they start to screw up. The trick is to be there when that happens.”
“No,” Sully said. “The trick is to be there and be able to walk out afterward.”
18
Nathaniel Porter hadn’t gone far in life.
He no longer lived in the tiny house he’d once shared with Nora and Ben, but that didn’t count for much when his new residence was less than three blocks away.
The King’s Mill area hadn’t changed much in thirty years, still a working-class neighbourhood where people held down two or three jobs to make ends meet while many of the kids pulled off their own double shifts, splitting time between school and graffiti work. Garages and fences were littered with the stuff, which had thankfully been applied to houses only when they were clearly abandoned.
Plenty of neighbourhoods within KR had suffered after the flood, but none so badly as ones like this. Money trickled downhill, and by the time the wealthier areas had taken what they considered their share, there wasn’t much left over.
“Strange he didn’t move farther away,” Lachlan said.
“Not if he didn’t have the money, it isn’t,” Dez said.
Dez put the car into park and shut off the engine, then followed Lachlan to the home’s front door.
Dez wasn’t certain whether Nathaniel would be home, given the time of day. But when he answered the door, it appeared pretty obvious the man hadn’t worked a mainstream job in a while.
The details on Nathaniel’s driver’s registration put his age at forty-nine, but he appeared closer to sixty. He was saddled with a significant stoop, relying on a cane to keep him upright as he stood at the door.
“What do you want?” A significant odour of alcohol emanated from the man’s breath as he addressed his visitors.
“Are you Nathaniel Porter?” Lachlan asked.
“What’s it to you?”
“Just answer the question.” Lachlan could be intimidating when he went for no-nonsense, and Dez knew he served his boss well just standing at his shoulder.
Nathaniel’s eyes darted from Lachlan to Dez back to Lachlan. “Yeah, that’s me. Why?” Before Lachlan could answer, Nathaniel jumped in with further comment. “If you’re with a collection agency, I’ve got the money together to make a payment on the truck, all right? I was going to go into the bank later this afternoon.”
“You smell like a brewery,” Lachlan said. “If you think you’re driving anywhere in this state, you’re looking for a bigger problem. Anyway, we’re not with collections. We’re here about something else. It will be easier for all of us to speak inside.”
Nathaniel narrowed his eyes, but he stepped to the side anyway, allowing the two men in.
People joked about how they came to resemble their dogs; in Nathaniel’s case, he matched his house. The place was rundown and sad, littered with items that belonged in the garbage or recycling bin. It contained just enough to suggest care had been taken in its building: rounded archways marking the passage between rooms, a window seat in the living room, kitchen cabinets—easily visible from the living room—appearing solid and, for their day, tasteful. But the place, like the neighbourhood and the home’s current tenant, had fallen on hard times. It was in desperate need of an overhaul—one it wasn’t likely to see.
With a grunt, Nathaniel fell into a ratty recliner. A can of beer was beside him and the TV was on. A home improvement program, of all things.
Dez scanned the room. A sofa sat under the window, littered by flyers and crumpled beer cans. Apparently, Nathaniel was in the habit of tossing his empties there once he’d finished.
Dez decided to stand.
Lachlan wasn’t as squeamish. He crossed in front of Nathaniel, swept a pile of refuse onto the floor and sat, focusing on the other man.
“I don’t know if you remember me,” he began.
Nathaniel didn’t seem to be of the mind to play this guessing game. His eyes remained fixed on the screen as he took another long swig from his can.
Lachlan met Dez’s eye and waved a hand in the direction of the TV. “Let’s have that off, shall we?”
Dez took his cue, crossing to the box—a miraculously operable tube variety rather than a flat-screen—and depressing the power button.
“Hey, I was watching that.”
“Planning a major home reno, are you?” Lachlan asked.
“Maybe I am.” Sarcasm dripped from Nathaniel’s tone as he turned a cocky glare on Lachlan.
“You can start tomorrow. Today, I need your help answering some questions. My name’s Lachlan Fields. I’m a private investigator, but I used to be a cop.”
“Great. Best of both worlds.”
“Yep. As I was saying before, it might be you’ll remember me. I spoke
to you thirty years ago.”
Nathaniel smirked. “Right. And I’m sure you remember everyone you talked to thirty years ago.”
“You might remember this. I was one of the officers tasked with looking into Nora and Ben’s disappearance.”
That quieted Nathaniel. The smirk fell away through the slackening of his jaw. Dez thought he caught a glimpse of recognition in the lifting of the man’s brows before he quickly turned his head away. “Oh.”
“Yeah,” Lachlan said. “Here’s the thing. We’ve been looking into another missing person case from back then, and it made me think about this one. No one ever found your girlfriend or son.”
“Could be they didn’t want to be found.”
“Sure, that’s what some people said. I think even you said it back then. But she didn’t have a lot of money, did she? It takes cash to disappear properly, especially with a baby. She’d need a load of food, diapers, clothes. She’d need a place to stay. Hell, if she managed to stay gone this long without anyone finding her, she would have needed fake ID for both of them. That sort of thing costs a fortune. So unless she had a relative who would have done that sort of work for her for free, I’d say it’s highly unlikely she just walked away. Anyway, from what I recall, she didn’t take much with her that night. Just stuff she needed for the evening. All of her things, the baby’s things, that all stayed behind at the house, didn’t it?”
“Look, it never made any sense to me neither. I searched for her, all right? I looked and looked. I drove for hours that night.”
“One hour.”
“So what? It felt like a long time. Anyway, I needed to go home in case they were there.”
“Did you hit her that night?”
“What? No.”
“Don’t get indignant,” Lachlan said. “We both know you’ve got a record for hitting women.”
“I was a little asshole back then. Yeah, I did some things I regret. But you can check my record. I ain’t had no assaults since I was a kid. I’ve got some DUIs now, a few thefts and possessions of stolen property and the like, but nothing violent. I learned my lesson about hitting women.”
“Have you been with a lot of women since Nora?” Dez asked.
“A few, here and there. What’s it to you?”
“Part of the questioning,” Lachlan said. “I’m curious. You moved since then, but only about three blocks. Why?”
“You kidding me? Where the hell’s a guy gonna go on pogey? Anyway, I got friends around here. And I always thought maybe….”
The way Nathaniel trailed off had Dez filling in the blanks. “You thought maybe Nora would come back some day.”
Nathaniel nodded. “Or Ben maybe. I know a long time’s gone past, but I always figured I’d recognize him. He didn’t look much like me, but people used to say he had my nose.”
“You weren’t so sure back then he was even your son,” Lachlan said. “You think otherwise now?”
“Listen, I was pissed off at Nora then. I was worried about her, sure, but I figured she left me. I talked myself into believing maybe she’d cheated on me, that she’d gone to live with this other guy. Hell, that might be exactly what happened. Could be the guy had some money to put together those fake IDs you’re talking about.”
A guy with money. “Did you ever know anyone by the name Lonnie Debenham?” Dez asked.
“No. Should I?”
“Didn’t read the news much, did you? It was all over it at the time.”
“He that other missing person you’re investigating?” Nathaniel asked. Receiving a nod from Lachlan, he continued. “Listen, I didn’t watch the news in those days. I didn’t like hearing all that bad shit every night, and anyway, I was worried what I might hear about Nora. The way the cops treated me, I didn’t put it past them to tell reporters any news before they told me. Besides, I had enough on my mind to worry about without filling it with even more garbage.”
Lachlan fished around the inside pocket of his jacket, producing a photograph. Dez wasn’t surprised his boss had secured an old photo of Lonnie. He likely had one attached to his permanent file inside the storage container.
“That the guy?” Nathaniel asked, taking the picture from Lachlan.
“Yeah. Ever see him before?”
Nathaniel peered at it for a few seconds before shaking his head and handing it back. “Nope. Never saw him. Clean-cut guy like that would stick out like a sore thumb around here. Bet he drove some fancy wheels besides.”
“He had a red 1987 BMW M6. You ever see something like that around?”
“No, and that I definitely woulda noticed. Look out the window. Nothing to see around here but Fords and GMs—and mostly just the ones rolled out more than ten years back.” Nathaniel sat forward as much as his back would allow. “Listen, man. Nora was a pretty girl, no question. But for all intents and purposes, she was like me. She never woulda fit in with a guy like that. And before you ask, no, she wasn’t into whoring herself for money, so he wouldn’t’a met her that way either. She wasn’t like that. She and me, if we’d been born with a little more money or opportunity, we could’ve been something. We had our problems, but we worked hard for our money, and we earned it the decent way.”
“So what happened?” Lachlan asked. “How’d you go from classic working stiff to a guy earning money from pogey and theft?”
There were times Dez wished Lachlan would let him ask the questions. He stepped in as Nathaniel’s face clouded over with anger. “You’ve got an injury there. Is that why you’re on social assistance?”
Nathaniel turned from Lachlan, focusing on Dez. He must have found something less repulsive there, because he answered the question without any snark. “I got jumped a couple years after Nora left, couple of guys yelling at me that I killed my girl and my son. Assholes roughed me up bad, almost killed me. Broke my back in two places. I was in hospital almost two months, and I needed a few surgeries. At first, they weren’t sure I’d even walk again, but it turned out the damage wasn’t as permanent as they thought. Not in that way, anyway. I managed all right for a few years, but I started developing arthritis some time ago. Doctor figures it’s related to the attack. It’s never going to get better, so I sit here, watch TV and drink my beer. Once in a while, when I’ve got some money together, I buy myself some weed. I can’t afford anything better for pain management. Sometimes, I think about ending it all, but so far, I ain’t had the guts.” He returned his attention to Lachlan. “So that’s it in a nutshell. How a guy goes from working stiff to getting cash from pogey and theft. Quite frankly, you should be impressed I haven’t gotten into drug dealing or robbery. The thought’s crossed my mind more than once, believe me.”
“You’re not quick enough to pull off a robbery,” Lachlan said. “And you’d be a walking target as a dealer, just the kind of guy losers would rob for drugs.”
“Yeah, I’d figured on that, thanks,” Nathaniel said with no small amount of snark. “I think I’d know a little something about that, living around here, don’t you think?”
“Fair enough,” Lachlan said. “Getting back to Nora—”
“Oh, lord.”
Lachlan continued as if he hadn’t been interrupted. “Take me through that night.”
“I’m thinking you already know about it, if you were involved in the investigation.”
“I know what you said then. I’d like to hear it again. A lot of time’s passed. It could be you remember something now you forgot about.”
Dez knew where Lachlan was headed. People didn’t easily recall their original lies later on—at least not accurately. Repeating the exact details of a made-up story was a significant challenge a year later, let alone thirty years on. If Nathaniel was indeed responsible for the deaths of his girlfriend and son, this could be the way to catch him.
“Look, like I said at the time, she and I were at a party with the baby. We got in a bit of a spat over the fact she wanted to leave, but—”
“You initially said there
was no spat. It wasn’t until you were confronted with what other witnesses had said that you changed your tune.”
“Yeah, I wonder why. You cops were acting like I must’ve done something to her. I was a dumb kid; I told a dumb lie about everything being all peachy-keen. So, yeah, we were at each other a bit that night. We argued sometimes. We had a newborn baby, and he cried a lot, kept us up at night. Find me a married couple who doesn’t fight when neither of them’s getting much sleep.”
Dez could see truth in that statement, but he wasn’t about to risk stepping on Lachlan’s interrogation by agreeing with his key suspect.
“So what happened then?”
“We stayed a while more, but not long. Ben was getting more and more crabby, and so was Nora. I can’t even tell you exactly what we argued about on the way home. No doubt something to do with staying late at my family’s, but when we started up, we usually found something else to add to the list. We were still a ways from home when she insisted on getting out of the car and taking Ben. I went after her, tried to talk her into getting back in. But I was at the end of my rope by then, so I took off. Figured I’d drive around the area a bit and come back to get ‘em. Only when I came back, they were gone. No sign of ‘em. I drove around for an hour or thereabouts, but I never did find them, so I gave up and went home. I was hoping she’d caught a lift from a passerby, and I was all set to ream her out for accepting a ride from a stranger. Only they weren’t there. Didn’t show up all night.”
“You didn’t report her missing for two days.”
“I figured she probably went to a friend’s. We both needed time to cool off. I thought she’d come home once she did. When she didn’t turn up, I started calling around. I found out no one had seen her or heard from her at all since before the party. That’s when I called the cops.”
“You must appreciate how all of this sounds,” Lachlan said.
“Damn straight I do. So did other people. Lots of sideways looks over the last thirty years, never mind that attack on me—all thanks to that car you guys had sent round to pick me up. I woulda come in on my own, you know. No need to make the neighbourhood think I’d done something shitty.”