“We can do that,” I said.
We settled down in the room and I looked at him. He didn’t look like he’d had much to eat lately.
“So what can you tell us, Atterbury?” Lucy said.
“We was like brothers, man, you know? We grew up together. Both done time but I’ve been clean now more’n five years. Ain’t been in no trouble since I last came out, no ma’am.”
“But you stayed in touch with Delmar?” I said.
He turned to look at me. “Sure. He came out of the pen a few months ago. He stayed with me for a while at first, but … well, we had a bit of a bust-up over somethin’. I wanted him to move out, so he did. It was cool though – we were still cool.”
“Why the bust-up?” I said.
Atterbury sighed. “Look man, I ain’t a saint or nothin’ but I cleaned up my act a few years back. I don’t wanna go back inside man, not ever. Things ain’t been easy but at least I get to choose who I hang out with and I’m not watchin’ my back the whole time. But Del, see, he’s different man. He just thought he’d been unlucky. He was always lookin’ for the big one, you know? The big score; then he was gonna settle down, buy a ranch or somethin’. He weren’t never gonna change man.” He paused for a while, thinking back. “He learned somethin’ when he was inside doin’ the last stretch. Somethin’ from the guy he shared a cell with. Said it was gonna make him a lotta money. He wanted me to join him, you know?”
“And you didn’t want to be involved? I said.
“Like I said man I ain’t takin’ no more chances. The dude was on parole. I told him he’d better find someplace else to go because I didn’t want no part of it.”
“Part of what? Did he tell you exactly?”
Atterbury sighed deeply again, and blew out his cheeks when he exhaled. “When he was in the pen he shared a cell with some dude who told him somethin’. He didn’t tell me what exactly coz I didn’t wanna know. He said it was information that was gonna make him wealthy. All I know was it was somethin’ to do with some rich chick out east. He had the goods to put the squeeze on her. That’s all I know. And that’s God’s honest truth.”
“Who did he share a cell with – did he tell you?”
“No man, and I never asked him.”
“And you don’t know what the information was – or what it was about?”
“No idea, man, except it was somethin’ to do with a chick. I guess he was planning to put the screws on her.”
“But according to my information he was released for several months before he travelled to Boston. Have you any idea why he didn’t go earlier?”
“Yeah, I know that,” he said.
“So…?”
“Look Del was strictly small-time, man. Same like me. He knew he couldn’t pull it off on his own – especially in a place so far from home. He wanted me to ask around – find someone who could help. But I left that kinda life behind me. I guess he finally found someone, but he never told me about it.”
“We think the person who helped him may be responsible for his murder,” I said. “It’s only a theory, but we think he may have been double-crossed by his partner. We know who she is. Her name’s Barbara Green. Does that name mean anything to you?”
He shook his head.
I handed Atterbury a copy of the picture Lucy had taken of Delmar and Barbara in the café. “This is a picture of her,” I said.
He shook his head again. “I ain’t never seen nor heard of her,” he said.
“You’ve been very helpful,” I said. “And you’ve done the right thing. Delmar may not have been an angel but he didn’t deserve to die like he did. We’re going to find out who did it and we’re going to make sure that whoever it was is held accountable. But in the meantime I want you to see if you can help us a bit more. Maybe you could ask around – see if anyone knows who he hooked up with in Boston. If you can’t, you can’t, but you’re the best shot we’ve got.”
“Sure, okay,” he said. “I’ll ask around, do what I can. How long you guys stickin’ around?”
“Probably two or three days; but it doesn’t matter.” I handed him my business card. “You can contact me anytime of the day or night on this number – even after we head back east. I want you to stay on this. If you get anywhere with it you call me, okay? Even if it takes six months. Even if it takes six years.”
“Okay.”
I took out my wallet and peeled off enough in twenties for his taxi fare home. Then I put a picture of Benjamin Franklin on top of it. I handed the money to him. He gave me the hundred back. “Thanks, man,” he said. “I know you mean well but I don’t want no blood money. I came here of my own free will to try and help my old buddy. You find his killer’nd it’ll be enough for me.”
“We’ll find the killer,” I said. “And when we do you’ll be one of the first to know about it.”
We shook hands. We didn’t talk anymore. We went over to the reception and ordered a taxi. When the taxi came Atterbury pulled up his hood and ran over there; in a few moments he was gone.
Back in the room Lucy and I had a pow-wow.
“We’re getting there,” I said. “We’re closing in.”
“I felt so sorry for him,” Lucy said. “I thought I was going to cry.”
“I know,” I said. We were sitting on the bed and I pulled her close to me. We sat up watching the TV until almost one o’clock. Nobody else called.
“All those numbers,” I said, “and only one hit. But it’s enough. We’re going to have to find out who Delmar shared a cell with.”
Lucy fell asleep first, with the remote held loosely in her hand. I put it on the bedside table and snuggled down under the duvet. Lucy turned in her sleep and put her arms around my neck, and in a few moments I was asleep too.
Chapter Twenty Two
Another Death
“So the priority today is to get back to Fellows and get him to find out who Delmar was sharing a cell with,” I said, as we sat eating breakfast at Denny’s just a couple of blocks from the hotel.
“What if the guy he shared a cell with isn’t there anymore – suppose he’s been released already?”
“Then it should be easier,” I said. “In Minnesota the last third of a prison sentence is served after release from custody and under supervision by a parole officer. So locating him shouldn’t be difficult.”
“Unless he disappears – like Delmar,” Lucy said.
“Let’s try and remain optimistic, shall we?” I said.
Lucy speared the last two pieces of hot cake on her fork and then swirled it around in the syrup. She looked up at me, noticing I was studying her.
“Waste not, want not,” she said as she popped the fork into her mouth. She chewed for a minute, swallowed and then drained her second cup of coffee of the morning.
“It’s not that I’m being pessimistic,” Lucy said. “I just want to cover all the possibilities so that we can have a back-up if things don’t go to plan.”
“I’m more concerned about how we’re going to get whoever it is to tell us what we want to know. He might not even agree to see us – we can’t force him.” I said. “Any ideas in that direction?”
“I’ll work on it,” she said.
But it was a real concern for me. We’d been luckier yesterday than I’d expected, and I went to sleep on a kind of high, but this morning niggling doubts were beginning to muster. Anyway, there was no point worrying about it – perhaps we were on a roll.
“I’ve been trying to puzzle out what the information could be,” Lucy said.
“And have you come up with any ideas?”
“Maybe Lisa was a man, and she’s had a sex change. Or she’s an alien, or a robot – you know, like the Stepford Wives.” She looked at me mischievously.
“Let’s keep at least one foot on the ground, shall we?” I said.
“There’s no need to be a grouch – I’m just trying to entertain you.”
“Do you think Lisa knows about Don’s former life as a mercenary?” I said.
“Maybe not; he doesn’t know about her life before they met,” she said.
“Only I was thinking, there are plenty of documented cases where soldiers become inured to the suffering of others and become like killing machines. They’re able to kill people without a second thought, without emotion or pity.”
“Like the My Lai massacre, for example, in Vietnam?” Lucy said.
“Yes, or the Rape of Nanking.”
“Who’s Nan King?”
“It’s a place, Lucy; in China. In the nineteen-thirties invading Japanese soldiers committed terrible atrocities there to women and even small children. Years later, when some of those soldiers were interviewed, they said they were able to do it because they’d been taught that the enemy wasn’t human. So it meant no more to them than killing a dog – or an ant.”
Lucy thought for a minute. “Do you still suspect Don? Only you told Atterbury yesterday that we thought Barbara was the key to Delmar’s murder.”
“I’ll have to take a rain check on that for the moment,” I said. “Don never told us where he was last Wednesday, did he? You know, when the class was canceled because of the damage from the burst pipe? He just said he rescheduled the class for the next day.”
“Well we didn’t ask him.”
“Let’s go see Fellows,” I said, draining the last grounds from my coffee.
*
Jim Fellows greeted us warmly. “Did you have any luck” he said, “at Delmar’s home?”
“No, we drew a blank there I’m afraid − the place was deserted. But we did uncover another very useful bit of information from another source.” I needed to be circumspect with what I told him. I didn’t want it to get back to Calley that I had Delmar’s telephone address book.
“I’m afraid the source of the information will have to remain confidential…”
“Yes, I quite understand,” Fellows said.
“But we’ve reason to believe that the reason for Ditto’s trip to Boston is linked to something he was told by his cell-mate when he was serving his last sentence.”
Fellows gave me a questioning look.
“We believe that Delmar’s cell-mate told him something about a local woman – I mean a woman from Minnesota – which could be used to blackmail her. That woman now lives in Boston. I’m not suggesting that the cell-mate gave him the information for that purpose – we’ve no reason to believe that the cell-mate knew what Delmar planned to do.”
“So,” Fellows said, “I guess you want to interview Delmar’s former cell-mate?”
“Exactly; can you help us identify who that was?”
“That shouldn’t be a problem – it’ll just be a matter of record, and I see no reason why it should be confidential. Whether you’ll be permitted to see him is another matter. That will be up to the Correctional Services. They’ll no doubt need to ask him whether he’s agreeable to seeing you, but I can put you in touch with the right person. If he’s reluctant to see you then the police in Boston will have to go through the normal channels to arrange an official interview, I guess.”
“That’s very helpful. How long do you think it would take to find out the name and prison number of the cell-mate?”
“Within this morning I should think. I’ll have one of my staff follow it up for you. Of course we’re assuming that the cell-mate is still in the custody of the Department of Corrections.”
“But if he isn’t then he’ll be under supervision won’t he – like Delmar?” Lucy said.
“That’s right – he might even be under my supervision. Give me a couple of hours or so. I should stay in this vicinity if I were you – it might not take long. Or if you prefer I can give you the information you need by telephone.”
“It’s okay,” I said. “We’ll stick around. The fact is that we don’t really have anywhere else to go and this is the only lead we’ve got.”
We stood up to leave. Fellows turned to Lucy. “Head and tail,” he said, smiling. “Very good; I’m afraid I didn’t click yesterday – I only got it after you left.”
As we left his office we could hear him chuckling to himself.
“God,” Lucy said when we got outside, “how embarrassing.” Her face was the color of a ripe peach.
We wandered around the downtown area, but soon slipped inside a mall for warmth, which suited Lucy very well.
“They’ve got the same stuff as we’ve got in Boston,” she said with surprise, as if she really thought she was on another planet. After a little more than an hour I had a call from Fellows. The cell-mate’s name was Cody Breen. He was at a facility about twenty miles from the city. Would we like to go back to his office?
I covered the receiver with my hand. “I’ve got the name, Lucy – Fellows wants to know if we need to go back to his office.” Lucy looked at me and shook her head frantically.
“No, it’s okay,” I said. “You’ve been a great help and we’ll be in contact again if we need your help to arrange a visit to see Breen.”
“I can give you the visiting information line there,” Fellows said. “Just a moment.” He read the number to me and the name of the prison. I jotted it all down in my notebook. “They’ll have all the information you need. If you want a contact visit then you’ll need an appointment. It may not be possible at short notice.”
I thanked him and we hung up.
“It’ll be all over the office by now,” Lucy said miserably.
“I shouldn’t worry; we probably won’t need to go back there again. Use your phone to find out where this place is,” I said. I handed her my notebook and she checked her iPhone.
“It’s about thirty minutes east of here,” she said, “and… about the same distance from our hotel.”
“We’ll have to call for an appointment anyway. It’s not even certain that we’ll be able to do it today,” I said. “Why don’t we go back to the hotel and then try and fix an appointment? Then if we have to hang about at least you’ve got the cable to watch, and there’s Wi-Fi.”
It was almost noon when we got back. We went up to our room and I called the number that Fellows had given me. When I got through I gave the guy on the other end Cody’s name and prisoner number and told him that I’d like to arrange a contact visit. I was put on hold. A few minutes later he was back on the line.
“Excuse me, Sir. I’ll need to put you through to the prison governor’s office.”
There was a long wait and then another guy’s voice came on the line.
“May I know who I’m talking to,” the voice said.
“My name’s Kane. I’m a private investigator from Boston. I need to talk to Mr. Breen in connection with a murder inquiry. I’m working in conjunction with the police department in Boston.” I gave him Calley’s office contact number. “You can check with detective Calley if you wish.”
“You got a shovel?” the guy said.
“Excuse me?”
“Cody Breen got shanked in the washroom about two weeks ago. He didn’t make it. He’s dead.”
Chapter Twenty Three
The Highlander
“He’s dead,” I told Lucy. “Cody’s dead – he got taken out a couple of weeks ago in the washroom.”
Lucy’s expression said it all. “I can’t believe it. We were getting so close. It’s as if some malign force keeps putting obstacles in our way,” she said.
“So there’s nothing left for us to do here,” I said.
“I’ll check the flight-times back to Boston,” she said. “We should be able to get on a flight tonight.”
“We’re not going to Boston,” I said.
Lucy gave me a puzzled look. “But I thought you said there was nothing left for us to do here,”
“We’re not staying here,” I said. “We’re going to Rapid Falls.”
“Lisa’s home town; what can we find out there?”
“I don’t know, but it’s a small town so it shouldn’t be difficult to find people who know her – and know about her. What do most small towns across this country have in common Lucy?”
“I don’t know – ice cream parlors?”
“Gossip. Pretty much everybody knows pretty much everybody else’s business. If there’s a skeleton in Lisa’s closet, we should be able to find it − if we dig deep enough.”
“That’s …”
“I know, a mixed metaphor.”
“How far is Rapid Falls?” Lucy asked.
“Why don’t you do some research?”
Rapid Falls was a six-hour drive in clear weather and no snow. It could be half as much again if we ran into problems. The guy at the rental company recommended a Toyota Highlander. Lucy was enthusiastic because it had heated seats.
“That should be able to deal with even the harshest conditions,” he said. “You better take wheel chains, too. Where you headed?”
“Rapid falls,” Lucy said.
The rental guy pursed his lips and inhaled audibly. “Not today, if you take my advice. There’s heavy snow coming in from the northwest. You don’t want to get caught in that,”
“How about tomorrow?” I said.
“It should be better – not great, but better. My advice is to head off real early in the morning. Get yourselves a good breakfast and just keep on going. You got a good sound system in there,” he said, nodding towards the Highlander. “Just as well − there ain’t a whole lot to see on the road to Rapid Falls.”
We decided to take his advice and wait until morning before setting off, because of the snow and because otherwise we’d be driving the last part of the journey in the dark. We took the car for a spin before going back to the hotel.
“It’s a pity we can’t make the trip today,” I said to Lucy. “I don’t want to be away too long. Why don’t you call the hospital – see how Barbara is? I’m going to call Calley.”
Lucy dialed the hospital number and went into the bathroom. I called Calley.
“Did you find anything on Green or Withers?” I asked him.
“Nothing’s known about either of them as far as I can tell. Not in this state anyway. If you want me to run a national check I’ll need their ID numbers or dates of birth at least. You find anything out over there?”
Till Death - Mark Kane Mysteries - Book Four: A Private Investigator Crime Series of Murder, Mystery, Thriller & Suspense Stories...with a dash of Romance. A Murder, Mystery & Suspense Thriller Page 14