‘Interesting. Anything else?’ Penner asked, sipping her coffee.
‘I think the perp knew the victims. There was a relationship between them, but not a really close relationship. I don’t think it was a husband or boyfriend sort of thing, but possibly an affair. They were intimate but it was more just physical not really emotional. I also think he has a family,’ Grant said.
‘And how do you get all that just from what we have? I really don’t get it,’ Penner said, shaking her head.
‘Well, it’s all based on past cases,’ Grant said. ‘See, usually when there’s no connection between the two parties, the murder weapon is a gun. The murderer wants to keep their distance. If there was a romantic connection, in most cases, the deathblow is to the front of the victim, either a stabbing or strangulation. The murderer wants to be close to the victim and see their face as they die.’
‘Kind of morbid, isn’t it?’ Penner made a face.
‘It is.’ Grant agreed. ‘With our case, seeing as the wound looks like it was done up close, but from behind, I think there was a connection, but nothing too close.’
‘Makes sense. Why leave the body where they did?’
‘That’s why I think it was an affair. The murderer is putting the body on display because they don’t want to hide their relationship anymore, either subconsciously or not.’
‘So, do you think that Dave guy could be involved?’ Penner asked. ‘He’s got a good job and likes having affairs.’
‘I don’t think so.’ Grant thought for a minute. ‘Based on the way he was with his current office affair, he seems to get emotionally attached. I don’t think that fits.’
‘Okay, so that kind of brings us back to square one then,’ said Penner, finishing her coffee.
‘Well, not necessarily,’ Grant said.
‘Oh?’
Grant took some folded papers out of his pocket. ‘I printed this off last night.’
Penner spent a couple of minutes reading the sheets. When she was done, she looked at Grant, then back at the papers. ‘Well, that’s interesting. I think we should go see our new victim’s family. Go sign out a car. You’re driving—I need a nap.’
CHAPTER SIXTEEN
When Grant and Penner pulled up to Elaine Jackson’s house in their patrol car, there were no other vehicles in the laneway. They went to the front door, rang the bell and waited. No one came. Grant tried the bell again, trying to peer into the side window. ‘Guess no one’s home,’ he said to Penner. They were walking back to their car when Penner paused and put her hand on Grant’s arm.
‘Do you hear that?’ Penner asked.
‘Sounds like music,’ Grant said, hearing rhythmic sounds coming from the back of the house. They followed a path leading to a wooden fence that blocked off the backyard. The music was definitely coming from the other side. Grant knocked as loudly as he could on the fence.
‘Sorry, I’ll turn it down.’ A young girl’s voice floated over the fence.
‘Police. We’d like to talk to you if we could,’ Penner called back.
‘What, police?! My music wasn’t that loud! Did that crazy old coot complain again?’ The gate opened and a teen girl was on the other side, wearing a bathing suit.
‘Are your parents home?’ Grant asked.
‘They’re working, I think. Look, I’m sorry my music was a little loud, but it’s the middle of the day! You don’t need to tell my parents, do you?’ The young girl looked at Penner hopefully.
‘Shouldn’t you be at school today?’ Penner asked.
‘P.A. day, no school,’ the girl said.
‘What school do you go to?’ asked Penner.
‘Sir Will. Look, I said I was sorry for the music.’
‘That’s okay, we just wanted to talk to your parents about something,’ Penner said. ‘Do you know when your dad is supposed to be home by any chance?’
‘He usually gets in around 4:30.’
‘Do you have a number where we can reach him? We’d like to talk to him before then,’ Penner said.
‘Yeah, give me a minute. I’ll go grab it.’ The girl turned and went around the corner into the house.
‘Should we tell her about her mom?’ Grant asked quietly.
‘No, I prefer to tell the other parent first. I find it’s easier on kids when their parents tell them something like this, instead of a stranger,’ Penner said, as the girl came back.
‘Here’s his card. He works security at some building down on Wellington, not sure which one. He usually does rounds in the afternoon so he may not be at his desk, but that’s his cell.’ The girl pointed to the number on the bottom of the card.
‘Thanks,’ Penner said, taking the card. ‘Enjoy your afternoon. And keep the music down,’ she added, closing the gate and following Grant down the path.
‘Man, I just feel awful for her. She’s just enjoying the sun and in a couple of hours she’s going to find out her mom’s dead and her life will be changed forever,’ Grant said after they were back sitting inside the car. ‘Doesn’t seem fair.’
‘Working homicides, you’ll learn real quick that life isn’t fair,’ Penner said, taking her phone out of her pocket. She dialed the number on the card.
‘Ed Jackson.’
‘Mr. Jackson, this is Detective Penner with the Ottawa City Police, I was wondering if we could meet up somewhere. I need to discuss a few things with you.’
‘Um, sure, I guess. About what?’
‘I’d rather discuss everything in person, if we could,’ Penner said.
‘OK, sure. I’m just about to do my rounds outside the building. You can meet me here, if you want. Or I can meet you somewhere when I’m done work.’
‘We can meet you now. That’s probably the best. Whereabouts?’ Penner asked. Grant took out his notebook to write down the address. ‘Bank of Canada, 234 Wellington? Right, we’ll be there in about fifteen minutes.’
‘Sounds good. See you then.’
Penner hung up. ‘Now we get to change another life forever.’
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
It ended up taking longer than fifteen minutes for Penner and Grant to find parking. The Bank of Canada building was right across from Parliament Hill and the streets were packed with tourists. Circling the block several times, Grant finally spotted an open parking spot and pulled up alongside. A security guard was standing outside the building, watching him attempt to parallel park. ‘Probably him,’ Grant said. The man looked to be in his late forties and in very good shape. He was tall, about 6’3” and two hundred pounds. ‘Big guy,’ Grant added, getting out of the car.
‘Mr. Jackson?’ asked Penner, as she walked up to the uniformed guard.
‘Ed, please,’ Mr. Jackson said, reaching out a hand to shake Penner’s.
‘Thanks for taking the time to see us. I’m Detective Penner from Major Crime and this is Constable Grant. Is there somewhere we can talk?’ She gestured toward the building. She could already feel a drop of sweat running down her back from the warm sun reflecting off the concrete. Plus, this kind of news deserved a little privacy.
‘Sure, we can use one of the conference rooms if you want.’ Mr. Jackson turned to escort them inside. ‘Can I ask what this is about? Is there something wrong with my daughter?’ He suddenly looked very concerned.
‘No, your daughter’s fine, Ed. We were actually just talking to her—that’s how we got your number,’ Grant said.
‘Thank God. She’s a bit of a handful. Ever since she turned fifteen last year, she’s been acting out and getting into a lot of trouble. My wife keeps saying it’s just a phase. Man, I hope we get into the next phase really soon,’ Mr. Jackson said, as he led them to the security desk. ‘We’re going to need to sign you in. ID?’
Penner and Grant each pulled out a piece of ID, handing them to a second security guard sitting behind the desk. He wrote down their information in a logbook and handed back their ID’s, along with a couple of visitor passes. ‘Just sign here and you’re
good to go,’ he said, turning the book around and handing Penner a pen. She signed next to her name and passed the pen to Grant.
‘Thanks,’ said Grant, clipping on his visitor pass.
‘Okay, right this way.’ Mr. Jackson lead them through a turnstile. ‘I think there’s an empty room just over here. At least it was empty when I was doing my rounds.’
As they were walking, Grant noticed that Mr. Jackson was wearing a belt very similar to his own. On it he had a pouch, probably to carry a note book, a flashlight and a gun. Guarding the biggest bank in Canada, it made sense that security would carry a gun. Two other things on the belt peaked his interest, though. A Taser and a tactical baton.
‘Right, we can use this room for now,’ Mr. Jackson said, opening the door to a large conference room and turning on the lights. The table inside could easily sit two dozen people, and several television sets and clocks were affixed to the walls. Each clock was set to show the time of a different major city in each of the time zones across Canada and Europe. Mr. Jackson sat down. ‘So, what can I do for you, Detective?’
Penner and Grant sat down across from Mr. Jackson. In their now familiar roles, Penner took the lead on questioning and Grant took out his note book, ready to take notes.
‘We have a few questions concerning your wife, Elaine,’ Penner said. ‘Can you tell us where she was last night?’
‘Elaine? Why? Is she in some sort of trouble or something?’
‘We just want to find out about her whereabouts last night.’ Penner didn’t directly answer his question. She wasn’t quite ready to tell him his wife was dead. In her experience, she tried to get as much background information as she could before telling someone that their loved one was dead. Once she broke that news, there were two ways it could play out. They may not be in any shape to answer the follow-up questions. Or, if they had something to do with it, their story may change.
‘Last night was her dart league night. They play every week over at the Bird and the Badger Pub on Daly Avenue,’ Mr. Jackson said.
‘And what time was that?’ Penner asked.
‘From eight until ten or ten thirty, then they usually hang out and have a couple of drinks,’ Mr. Jackson said. ‘She usually gets home some time after midnight, maybe a little later. I’m always asleep and don’t notice.’
Grant noticed Mr. Jackson seemed to fidget a bit when he said this.
‘Was she home when you got up this morning?’ Penner asked, knowing the answer.
‘I assume so,’ said Mr. Jackson, nervously.
‘You assume so? Don’t you know?’ Penner asked, taken aback by his answer.
‘Well, no, not really,’ Mr. Jackson said, avoiding eye contact. ‘We’ve been having problems for a couple of years. We don’t sleep in the same room anymore. She stays in the master and I’m in the spare room down the hall. When I got up this morning, I just did my thing and left for work. Her door was closed so I assumed she was sleeping. My shift starts pretty early.’
Grant was observing Mr. Jackson closely, watching for any signs of deception in his face or voice.
‘What type of problems have you been having?’ Penner asked, knowing she was getting into personal territory, but thinking there could be a chance it would help the investigation.
Mr. Jackson looked up and over to Penner. ‘She fell out of love with me, I think. We’d been together for almost twenty years, and we just started growing apart. We decided that we should still be a family, at least until our daughter moves out. We still care for each other. We support each other and everything, we just don’t love each other in a physical way any more. Emotionally, things are as good as ever, but physically, not so much.’
Grant made some notes.
‘Can you tell us about her relationship with Mrs. Karen Wong?’ Penner started a new angle of questioning. Mr. Jackson seemed surprised.
‘Poor Karen, I can’t believe she was killed the other night,’ Mr. Jackson said. ‘Our daughter and Mae, Karen’s daughter, both wrestle in the same division. Karen and Elaine were great friends. You’ve heard of soccer moms? Those two were the soccer moms of the wrestling world. They loved watching the girls compete. Couple of months ago, there was a meet where the girls were competing. Of course Elaine and Karen were there, whooping and hollering in the stands. A local reporter was there covering the meet and wrote an article on the two of them. Kind of pissed off the girls—they felt like the spotlight was taken away from them. But, it was a nice write-up and a good picture of the two of them—big smiles, arms around each other, holding the kids’ medals.’
That explained the article he’d found, Grant thought. He scribbled some more notes.
‘Did Elaine have any enemies, that you know of?’ Penner asked.
‘Not that I know of, she’s pretty well liked by everyone,’ Mr. Jackson said. He got a quizzical look on his face. ‘That’s kind of a strange question, Detective. And, hang on—why did you ask ‘did’ Elaine have any enemies, not ‘does’?’
‘Crap,’ Penner thought. ‘Mr. Jackson, I’m afraid we have some bad news. There’s no easy way to say this. Elaine was found deceased last night.’
‘What?’ The colour drained from Mr. Jackson’s face. ‘How? Where?’
‘She was found on King Edward. We’re still investigating the cause of death, but foul play does look like a possibility,’ Penner said. Grant was still watching Mr. Jackson’s face.
‘I can’t believe it. She just went out for a night of fun, like every week. Are you sure it’s her? Who would have done this?’ Mr. Jackson asked. Grant noticed that although he seemed upset, he wasn’t tearing up at all.
‘Unfortunately, yes, she had her identification on her. And that’s what we’re trying to find out,’ said Penner. ‘Can you think of anything out of the ordinary recently?’
‘No, nothing comes to mind,’ Mr. Jackson said. ‘Everything seemed normal. She never mentioned anything.’ He stood up. ‘I…I…I have to finish my rounds, then go home.’ He suddenly stopped as a new idea occurred to him. ‘Did you tell my daughter when you were talking with her? Does she know?’
‘No, we thought it would be better coming from you.’ Penner stood up, thinking it odd that Mr. Jackson would want to finish his shift after hearing his wife had been killed. ‘Please, give us a call if you think of anything. We’ll keep you informed of any progress we make.’ She handed Mr. Jackson her card.
‘Right, yeah, okay,’ Mr. Jackson said. ‘I’ll show you out.’ He turned off the light and closed the door behind them. ‘How am I going to tell our daughter her mom is dead?’ he mumbled to himself.
At the security desk, Penner and Grant returned their visitor passes. Penner turned to offer her condolences to Mr. Jackson once again, but the security guard was already walking away, continuing his rounds.
* * *
‘So, what’d you think?’ Grant asked Penner as they crossed the street towards the car.
‘I’m not really sure, to tell you the truth. He seemed a bit sketchy, but maybe that’s just how he is,’ Penner said. ‘Hard to say. He seemed concerned.’
‘But not overly concerned,’ Grant pointed out. ‘He seemed more concerned with his job than anything.’
‘Well, maybe he needs to give himself time to figure out how he’s going to tell his daughter. That can’t be an easy thing for a Dad to do.’
‘Yeah, no kidding,’ Grant said. ‘Did you notice his belt?’
‘No, why?’ Penner asked. ‘By the way, you’re still driving.’
‘Tactical baton and stun gun,’ said Grant, getting into the driver’s seat and checking his mirrors.
‘Well, now that’s interesting,’ Penner said. ‘What did your profile say? Good job, married, possible non-emotional affair? Right age too, right?’
‘Yeah, but,’ Grant started and stopped. ‘If, and this is a big if, if he killed Mrs. Wong, why would he kill his wife? And why would he kill Mrs. Wong if they were having an affair?’
‘Wel
l,’ speculated Penner. ‘Mrs. Wong and Mrs. Jackson were close, right? Maybe Mrs. Wong was going to break it off with him because she didn’t want her friend to find out and be pissed. He got mad, killed Mrs. Wong, then killed his wife because she was the reason he wasn’t getting any, from either her or Mrs. Wong.’ Penner was kind of proud of that theory.
‘Could be, I guess. And he is a big guy, like the homeless dude said.’ Grant paused at the corner and checked the traffic. ‘Should we get a warrant for his belt?’
‘I doubt a judge would give us one based on what we have right now,’ Penner said. ‘But it’s a working theory. Let’s do some more digging. Did you find out anything else about Mrs. Wong’s co-worker, Dave? Can we confirm that he and Jane were actually together after Mrs. Wong left?’
‘Can neither confirm nor deny. I got nothing with him,’ Grant said.
‘Any relation between him and Mrs. Jackson?’ Penner asked.
‘Not that I can find. Should we maybe interview his wife?’ Grant suggested. He glanced out the side window and put on his left turn signal. Penner followed his gaze to a coffee shop.
‘Yeah, go see what she has to say,’ Penner said. ‘And good call on a coffee. I was starting to shake.’
CHAPTER EIGHTEEN
Penner had Grant drop her off at the precinct. It was already almost five o’clock, and, even though he wanted to try and track down Dave’s wife, his patrol shift started at eleven, so Penner told him to go home and get a few hours of sleep if he could.
Penner was still running on caffeine, so she figured she might as well use the energy while she had it. She probably had a couple of hours in her before she crashed. Down the hall from her office was a lounge area with a vending machine. On top of her coffee addiction, Penner had a real sweet tooth and couldn’t resist a chocolate bar in the afternoon. ‘Probably not the best habit, but it could be worse,’ she thought as she put her change in the machine, ‘I could be a crackhead.’ That was one way to justify it.
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