by Keyla Hunter
He seemed to be many things, but certainly not someone who was manipulative; he was open and unassuming. Well, I have been a pretty rotten judge of character so far, so I could well be mistaken.
In today’s world, it was hard to imagine that someone illiterate could get by. I remember reading an article about how there were many people, particularly dyslexics, who interpreted patterns, created their own codes, and found other ways to fake their way through life.
Likewise, Doug would have used the doctor’s letter to access hospitals. He probably had others reading and filling in documentation for him. When Barb was alive, she probably read and answered his communications. No wonder he was on the edge without her; in a world of words, he was probably lost.
Didn’t Elaine say that she had read him Barb’s letter? What if Doug had got Elaine to send that text? She didn’t seem to have had it in her. Besides, what did she have to gain with the deaths of Frank and Katherine? No, there had to be another explanation.
What about his son? Why would he have sent his father a message? Perhaps he didn’t know about the handicap. Maybe it was something that Doug didn’t want Mike to know. This family seemed to have so many secrets, no wonder things had gone awry. Secrets and lies never helped anyone.
I wondered if there was something I had overlooked. Perhaps the video footage would reveal more. If I could confirm that Doug had not been at the crime scenes at the time of the murderers, I could rule him out.
I had to review that footage again, but that would mean getting Brett’s help. Based on the way our last conversation ended, I seriously doubted that I could get his support. I sighed. As things stood, I had no choice. I would have to sweet talk him. Problem was that this was not my strong suit.
The only thing I could do was to try.
The door to Brett’s room was closed. I could try the door, and if he was not in, I could go in and review the footage in the back room. It would be awkward to sneak in, but I’d do anything to be spared the agony of batting my eyelashes at him. This was assuming he was the type of guy who fell for that kind of thing. I didn't know him well enough to be sure. Going by our conversations over the last few days, all I knew was that he came in many shades.
I was unsure whether I should knock. “Go ahead, walk in,” said that annoying little voice. I began to feel that this was the best way to go. I placed my hand on the door handle and turned it down.
From inside I heard a loud guffaw. It was Brett. I could recognize that laugh anywhere. I wondered if he was with someone, maybe the person from the picture. His door was not usually closed. I felt a twang in my chest. “Possessed by the green-eyed monster, Tracy?” asked the voice. Boy it seemed that the voice was getting bolder, more vocal lately, and if I didn’t take care, it was bound to get me into a whole lot of trouble.
I plastered my ear to the door trying to make out if the voice was familiar. Yes, I will admit the voice in my head was right.
“Tracy…” said a high-pitched voice.
I jumped out of my heels. “Catalina, don’t sneak up on a girl like that,” I said with my head twisted toward her. I should have thought that someone could come down the corridor.
“You have an appointment with Brett?” she asked, surveying my body that was one with the door.
“I uh… dropped something.”
“What was it?” She stared at my face.
“It was a contact lens.” I reached up and touched my glasses.
“Are you sure?” She continued to stare.
“Yes, yes, that’s why I wore my glasses… to find it. Blind… blind as a bat without it.”
“I, Catalina, will find it for you.” She got down on her hands and knees. “Get down here,” she said, pulling me onto the ground. “You’ll never find it from up there. I’m great at finding things.” She put her eyes on level with the carpet.
I smiled at her enthusiasm.
“Did you know, Tracy, that I found not one but two bodies? Both were dead in one day. I will tell you the story…”
“Actually, Catalina, I was waiting for Brett. He’ll be out any minute. I can find the lens later.”
She looked disappointed that I had cut her story short. “He’s on the phone.”
“Oh? How do you know?”
“I’ve got good ears. They are very sharp. Also, I know that he always talks to Mr. Henderson at this time. It’s a V-con.” She wore a cool air of confidence. “He closes his door. You can’t hear Mr. Henderson because Brett wears a headset.” She cupped her hands around her ears.
Wow, she was a walking information system. She would be an asset to a detective service.
“I think he fancies you,” she said with a wink.
I felt a flush in my face and hoped she didn’t notice.
“I promise not to tell anyone,” she said, crossing her heart with a finger.
My ears were on fire now.
“Gotta work,” she said. “I usually clean his room around now, but I will leave you two love birds to chat.”
Right on the mark as she said he would, he opened the door.
“Oh, I was expecting Catalina,” said Brett. His forehead wrinkled and his crow’s-feet became more pronounced.
“She said that she would come by in a bit.” If he was mad at me for this morning’s behavior, he didn’t show it, but I felt a distinctive chill.
“Brett, about this morning… I shouldn’t have… what I’m trying to say is that I’m sorry.”
“There’s nothing to be sorry about, Tracy, you were only looking out for your friend.”
“Any updates on the case?” I smiled brightly and batted my lashes.
“Are you still?”
“No, I swear I was just asking.”
“What’s the matter? Is there something in your eye?”
“What?”
“Your eye, it’s twitching.” His own eyes looked at me with deep concern. He reached toward me, and his finger brushed mine. I felt a hot pulsing rush through my body.
“N-no, it’s some… dust.”
“Okay,– yes… it’s stopped now.”
“Good.”
“The police have ruled Bruno Burns out as a suspect. He was out of commission and has been ever since Frank gave him a black eye and a broken wrist during their skirmish.”
“Well, that would be motive, wouldn’t it?” I felt a little hopeful.
“The problem is, Tracy, motive is not enough. There’s got to be tangible evidence. Ryan had Frank’s wallet and there was gunshot residue on his clothes.”
“Planted,” I said in a matter-of-fact tone.
He nodded his head from side to side. “Evidence, Tracy, we need evidence.”
“You have evidence right there,” I said, pointing to the door on the wall.
“Tracy, I know how to do my job. I have been studying the footage all morning. The police have a copy. Experts are going through copies now.”
“Is that what Mike was preparing yesterday?”
“Yes, he is the new IT intern. I asked him to render the clips.”
“I think he erased bits of it.”
“What?”
“I forgot to tell you.”
“Tracy, you can’t hurl wild accusations like that. Besides, he couldn’t have. He can’t override the original footage. Not without some doing.”
“He was acting funny yesterday, bit of an odd-bod.”
“He’s only a boy. Besides all guys his age are a bit, well, weird.”
“So you have the originals?” I was not keen on his lecture on life stages. “I know he erased something that he didn’t want me to see. Perhaps he knew who the killer was. What if he was covering up for his dad?”
“Look, Tracy, the last time you went accusing someone, she wound up dead. I wouldn’t want the same thing to happen again.”
“I feel that this time I’m right, Brett. Doug had the motive, he had the opportunity, and he may have the weapon. I… we just need to find it.”
&nb
sp; “You should stop watching so much TV.”
“I don’t,” I muttered.
“The tournament kicks off in a few hours. I need to do the final security checks. The last thing we need is another body showing up. That would be kaput for the resort.”
I felt my face growing hot.
“Don’t get angry, Tracy. I don’t want us to fight.” He pulled my arm. “Come on, Ms. Marple, it’s time to move along now.” I shrugged away his hand. He looked at me and touched the tip of my nose. “Did anyone tell you that you are utterly cute when you are angry?” He laughed again.
I stared at him and wanted to whack him with the bag hanging on my shoulder. “Oh well, I will leave it to you,” I said, trying to sound casual.
We both stepped back on to the corridor, and he added, “In the meantime, keep that little nose of yours out of my office.”
“What makes you think…?”
“I know you can be hard to stop when you have that look.”
I rubbed the tip of my nose. Had he noticed the freckle?
He closed the door behind him then turned around and pressed down on the handle. He opened a little box located at one side of the door post and keyed in a couple of numbers.
“Dual locking system,” he explained.
“Uh-huh.”
“Going up?” he asked.
“No, I’ve got work back in my office,” I said, pointing in the other direction.
“Let’s catch up for lunch?”
“Yeah, that will be great.”
I watched him walk toward the elevator.
As soon as he was out of sight, I whipped up my mobile phone and tapped up the notebook app and keyed in the security code that Brett had entered. I was able to catch 8-0-3-9, but it was a five digit code.
I needed to work out the last number. How difficult could it be? I’ll try even numbers, or may be a lucky number. Seven was lucky for most people. It wasn’t for me though, as I remembered my seventh birthday and how I had broken my arm in two places. “Oh just give it a go,” said the voice.
8-0-3-9-7 A dull beep and a red light indicated that I had failed.
Okay, this time I thought I would key in my real lucky number. So I inserted 8-0-3-9-3.
“Tracy, what are you doing here?”
“Catalina, I told you not to sneak up on me like that. That’s twice today.”
“What are you doing?”
“I was about to ask you the same question.” My heart beat wildly now. I hoped that Mariana’s big ears wouldn’t pick it up.
“I’m here to clean.” Her face scrunched up into a question mark. “Did you talk to Brett?”
“Yes, I mean, yes, I already did, but I left my handbag inside his room, so I was trying to get it.”
“Your handbag?” She stared at my bag slung across my shoulder with a questioning look.
“I mean my phone. I left my phone in his… in Brett’s room” I was glad that I had tucked it away inside my bag.
“I, Catalina, will get it for you.” She still didn’t look convinced.
“You stay here.” Her tone was sharp and commanding.
I ignored her tone and played along.
I watched as Catalina entered the code: 8-0-3-9-6. Ah, that was my next guess. She then waved her card over the mechanism on the door. Two upbeat beeps later the door was open.
I tried to follow her inside but she said, “No-no, you wait here.”
I could do that now that I had the code. I felt the card that I had taken the night before in my pocket. I had what I needed, the key and the code. I was glad that I had not put it back as I had originally planned. Breathing a sigh of relief, now all I had to do was wait for her to leave and get inside. As I waited, I thought about what my next steps should be.
“There is no phone here, Tracy,” called Catalina. “What color was its case?”
“Is it there?”
“No, not at all.”
“May be I left it some other place,” I said, hoping my voice sounded adequately disappointed.
Back outside, she shrugged and pouted. “Couldn’t find it.”
“It’s okay. You tried. Thanks, Catalina.”
“You know where Brett is?”
“At the golf course?”
“Nah, down in the casino. There’s been another fight in the casino. Jo told me.”
As usual, Catalina was on top of things so I thought I’d test her.
“Do you know where Millie is?”
“She’s in the lobby sitting in her favorite chair. She’s not in a good mood. I know because she looked like this…” She puckered her face and stuck out her lip in a perfect imitation. “Maybe her meeting with the lawyers didn’t go so good. Yah?”
“I’m sure with all that’s been happening she’s got a lot on her mind.”
“Yes, yes…” She shuddered and her eyeballs rolled up into her head. “You know I found them, Frank and Katherine…. Dead,” she said, her voice ominous.
“Yes, yes, you told me.” She had probably related the story to so many people so many times that she had forgotten. I wanted to see those clips. “Best to get back to whatever it is that you were doing, Catalina,” I said briskly.
“Cleaning, Tracy. I clean. That’s what I do.” Her voice trembled with emotion. Her dark eyes blazed and her upper lip curled up into snarl.
I wondered what was in my morning coffee; everyone I met kept giving me attitude.
“I didn’t mean to… Look, today’s a busy day. I’ll stop by Housekeeping on Monday and we can have a long chat. How about that?”
Her discontent evaporated and her face broke out into a big toothy grin. She was back to her old self in seconds.
“I’ll see you then, Catalina, and keep your eyes open.”
“I always do, Tracy.”
I smiled back, my fingers itching to draw out the card buried deep inside my pocket.
I waited in the elevator lobby till Catalina finished cleaning Brett’s room. The rattling of her broom and mop laden cart signaled she was done. A quick look down the corridor confirmed this.
I skipped over to one of the circular pillars flanking the two sets of elevators and pressed my body against it. As I did, Catalina came around the corner and stopped at the service elevator on its way up. I peered through a red sealing wax palm, thankful for the additional cover. A loud ping indicated the elevator had arrived at our level. A swoosh and a second ping told me she was on her way.
When I got to the corridor I looked left and right. There was no one about. I had the code, I had the card, Brett was away, and this was my chance to find out what was really on those recordings.
A woman on a mission, I tiptoed down the hallway. After entering the code into the device on the wall, I heard a couple of beeps indicating success. I waved the card over the scanner, it beeped twice, and the green light went on. The handle opened easily, and once I was in I felt my luck was changing. Now it was time to find out who Douglas Mitchell truly was.
I made sure that the door was shut and went over to the interior room. Thankfully it was not locked. Stepping inside, I was mesmerized by the busy hive of electronics. The screens featured clips from various locations across the resort. It was a hub that tracked its every movement, every heartbeat.
On one screen I caught Catalina entering a room on the third floor and smiled to myself. Catalina was a creature of habit following a similar pattern every day, which was what I counted on. The last thing that I wanted was for her to come back into Brett’s room. Third time around I wouldn’t be as lucky.
The same screen cut across to another visual, this time of Imogen at the main reception. With a mirror in hand, she threw back her head of golden hair and ran her tongue over freshly applied lipstick. It felt powerful to be able to watch people like this and would be a disastrous weapon in the wrong hands.
The shots displayed in a synchronized loop. I wondered if everything was being recorded. Were the recordings activated by movement or s
elected at random? I made a metal note to ask Brett when I met him next.
I looked over the different controls and tried to recall what Mike did when I was here the last time. Locating the master switch that displayed the visuals, I turned it off. They were too much of a distraction. The footage would continue to be captured and stored despite this, possibly in a cloud repository in cyberspace.
The playbacks ran through a computer that was different to the setup for the recordings. Brett had said that he was working on the clips, so when I switched on the device the screen was paused on a still. I looked through the footage moving them at high speed backwards and forwards, making a note of the time and listening to sound bites.
I added a few notes to my iPad, but there was nothing that really helped. Continuing to search through the footage, I looked specifically for the clips that Mike attempted to conceal from me. I sighed when I noticed the stack of six DVDs that were marked WALTERS.
It had been about half an hour, but it felt like two. Most of the recordings were of mundane staff activity and guest check-ins. I felt frustration bubbling and rising up inside, but I didn’t want to give up. I was certain that these DVDs held the answer to what I was looking for so I ploughed on.
A few minutes after, I found the first clip worth mentioning. It was the one in which Frank and Doug fought over the letter. Frank threatened to tell Mike the truth about who he really was. Doug begged him not to do that and said that it would ruin whatever family that he had left.
Frank was adamant when the argument took a new twist. It seemed that Katherine had been to see Doug, looking for dirt on Frank, something that she could use to help her with her case. Doug said he had not said anything, but now he threatened to give her the letter.
Frank changed his tune and offered Doug money. The bartender laughed off his suggestion and insisted he couldn’t be bought. It looked like Doug had Frank where he wanted him. At this point, Frank grabbed the letter, And Doug pulled Frank’s arm over the bar, twisting it with a smirk and grabbing the letter back.