‘That is really strange,’ Millar said. He sounded distracted.
‘Hey, speaking of statues, are you still doing the stone carving? You took a couple of classes, didn’t you?’ Penner asked.
‘What? Oh, yeah. Three series of classes. Hard to find the time to do any at home, though. Messy, too,’ Millar said. ‘Did you say the second victim was Elaine Jackson?’
‘Yeah. Why, do you know her?’ Penner asked.
‘I think I met her a couple of weeks ago, at one of Tina’s wrestling matches. I think T beat her daughter in one of the final heats,’ Millar said. ‘Pretty sure her name was Elaine.’
Penner reached into her jacket pocket and pulled out a creased copy of the article Grant had printed. Lucky thing she always wore the same blazer. ‘Here’s a picture of her,’ she said, flattening the paper and handing it to Millar.
‘That’s her,’ Millar said, looking at the picture. He held it a bit closer. ‘Is that…?’
‘Karen Wong. Our first victim,’ said Penner. ‘Be interesting to see if there’s a connection with this victim, too. During Mrs. Jackson’s autopsy, it looked like the same type of weapon was used. Same type of gash on the head. But this time, it seems like she was incapacitated first with a Taser.’
‘Really? Not a lot of those on the streets. Well, there shouldn’t be, anyway. They’ve been illegal for years now,’ Millar said.
‘So have hand guns, but it hasn’t stopped people getting their hands on those,’ said Penner.
‘True. Have you identified any suspects, yet?’ Millar asked, looking around the scene.
‘Not really. Mrs. Jackson’s husband is a security guard and he carries a baton and Taser, but that’s about all we’ve got on him. And there are plenty of security guards in the city that carry the same, so…nothing really. One of Mrs. Wong’s co-workers was having an affair, and it wasn’t his first. He’s got a history of domestic violence, so there may be something there, but we haven’t found a connection between him and Mrs. Jackson, so…I don’t know. I think it has to be the same killer in all these cases. They’re too similar to be a coincidence.’
A voice spoke out of the darkness behind them. ‘I tend to agree.’ It was Faye. ‘Detectives. Seriously, I am going to need a good night’s sleep one night this week. So, another body?’ Faye put on her gloves and leaned down to get a better look. Her assistant handed Penner a coffee.
‘You know the way to a girl’s heart,’ Penner said, gladly taking the cup. ‘We haven’t gone through her purse yet, so we don’t have a name,’ she said, turning back to Faye.
‘What, no coffee for me?’ Millar said with disappointment.
‘Sorry, Detective, I thought you were out of town.’
Faye grabbed the purse and handed it to Penner. ‘Feel free to have a look.’
Penner opened up the purse and started inventorying the contents. There were the usual items: lipstick, mascara, lip balm. ‘Huh,’ she said, pulling out another container. ‘Pepper spray.’
Millar and Faye both looked at Penner with interest. ‘Wonder if she used it on the perp before she got hit?’ Millar said.
‘Cap’s still on, so unless the perp put it back, I have my doubts,’ said Penner. ‘Also got some gum, a pen and her wallet.’ She opened the wallet. ‘Wow, a lot of cash. Couple of hundred. I guess robbery wasn’t the motive. Let’s see who you are.’ She pulled out a driver’s license. ‘Yvonne Brenner.’
Millar looked shocked. ‘What did you say?’
‘Yvonne Brenner. You okay?’ Penner looked at Millar with concern.
‘Yeah, I’m fine,’ Millar said. ‘Faye, can I see her face?’
Faye pulled the hair back out of Mrs. Brenner’s face and Penner shone her light on it. The lifeless eyes seemed to look straight ahead with a steely stare.
Millar moved in for a better look. ‘I’m pretty sure her daughter is a wrestler, too.’
CHAPTER TWENTY
‘So, all three could be related then?’ Penner said. ‘Well, at least that’s something to go on.’
‘Sorry I’m late.’ Grant hustled towards them out of the darkness. ‘I brought you a coffee,’ he said, holding out a take-out cup to Penner.
‘She already has one, but I could go for it,’ Millar said. Before he could even reach out a hand, Penner had slugged back the last bit of her first coffee, handed Grant the empty cup and taken the full one.
‘I really don’t know how you drink coffee so fast,’ Millar said, trying to keep the disappointment out of his voice.
‘One of my many talents,’ said Penner. ‘So, didn’t you get the call earlier?’ she asked, turning back to Grant.
‘I must have been in the shower when the call came in, and I turn my cell phone off at night,’ Grant explained. ‘I noticed the light flashing on my home line, and when I turned on my cell I had a bunch of messages from dispatch. I really wasn’t expecting a call tonight.’
‘From now on, if you’re working for me, you are on call 24/7,’ Penner said sternly. ‘Keep your cell on at all times. You never know when you’re going to get a call, got it?’
‘He’s working for you now?’ Millar couldn’t hide his surprise.
‘Captain thought we could use some help and everyone else is busy with other cases,’ Penner said.
‘Well, he’s your responsibility then, not mine,’ said Millar. Grant could feel the tension.
‘No problem,’ Penner said. She looked at Grant, who had wandered towards the body under the streetlight. ‘What in the—what are you wearing?’
‘Oh, this,’ Grant said, embarrassed. He looked down at himself. ‘It’s the only suit I have. My mom got it for me when I went to my older brother’s wedding. I think I was like 17 or something.’ The suit was a light baby blue colour that seemed to glow under the light. And it was about two sizes too small. Trying to tug the sleeves down, he said, ‘I’ll see about getting a better fitting one tomorrow.’
‘No, it’s a good look. Just need a ruffled shirt and it would be a complete ensemble,’ Millar said. Grant thought it was best not to react.
‘Detective Grant!’ A voice called out.
‘Detective?’ Millar asked incredulously as a Constable walked over to them.
‘It’s just a joke,” Grant said, turning to see Constable Curry walking toward them from the sidewalk. ‘I told you, I’m not a detective. What’s up?’
‘Well, sir,’ Constable Curry started, sarcastically, ‘I have a possible witness over here.’ Penner and Millar both turned to him, with interest. ‘Older guy, a Mr. Poole. Said he saw someone earlier carrying something, or maybe someone, over his shoulder about a block from here.’
‘Where is he?’ Penner jumped in to ask before Grant had a chance.
‘Just over here, ma-am,’ said Constable Curry shining his flashlight on the ground and leading them over to Mr. Poole.
* * *
Probably in his early sixties, Mr. Poole was a short man with grey hair and a long grey beard. He wore a grubby t-shirt and jeans, covered with an apron.
‘Mr. Poole, these are Detectives Penner, Millar and Grant,’ said Constable Curry, smiling at Grant as he did. ‘If you need anything else, I’ll just be over here,’ he said to the detectives, walking over to a patrol car.
‘So, Mr. Poole, we were told you might have seen something earlier?’ Millar said.
‘Yeah, I was just finishing up my night. I have a sausage cart over on Slater,’ Mr. Poole gestured behind him, ‘And I noticed this guy picking up someone off the ground and slinging them over their shoulder, like how a firefighter carries someone out of a building.’ Mr. Poole said. ‘Didn’t think much of it really. I wasn’t even really sure what I had seen and there are lots of drunks out and about at this time. But when I was walking to my car, I saw all the lights here and wanted to see what was going on. I’m a bit curious like that.’ He scratched his beard. ‘Anyway, saw the person laying there and I figured I should mention what I saw to one of the officers.’
‘Not really. They were on the other side of the street. It was dark and I wasn’t paying too close attention, ya know.’ Mr. Poole scratched his beard some more in thought. ‘Big guy, maybe around your height, or so. Hard to tell,’ he said, looking at Millar. ‘Looked like he was wearing a hooded sweater or jacket or something. I remember thinking it was kind of strange. It’s not a very cold night.’
‘Anything else?’ Penner asked, hopefully.
‘Not really sure. He was wearing dark pants. Black or dark blue, maybe. Not sure if they were jeans, or what. It was really hard to tell. Like I said, it was the end of my night, so I was more interested in getting home.’
‘You said this was over on Slater?’ Millar asked.
‘Yeah, just a block or two over, on the east side of the street. Just across from the little courtyard that’s there. That’s where I set up my cart.’ Mr. Poole pointed in the direction.
‘Well, thanks for coming forward. You did the right thing,’ said Penner, handing Mr. Poole her card. ‘If you can think of anything else, please give me a call. And I’ll just ask Constable Grant here to take down your contact information, in case we need to get in touch with you.’ She turned to Millar. ‘We should take a walk down to Slater—see if there’s anything worth seeing, eh?’ Calling over her shoulder, she said, ‘Faye, good seeing you again. But we have to stop meeting like this. Let us know when you have her ready to go, will ya?’
‘No problem,’ said Faye, still crouched on the ground next to the body. ‘I think she’ll wait to be looked at until tomorrow. We’ll get her to my office tonight and get her prepped for around noon or so. Come by if you want. Not sure if you’ll want to eat before or after. Up to you, I guess.’
‘Perfect,’ Penner said. ‘Grant, meet us over on Slater when you’re done here, okay?’
‘Will do,’ said Grant. He suddenly looked up from his notebook at Penner—this was the first time she hadn’t called him ‘Constable’ Grant.
* * *
‘So, why would someone be targetting the moms of teen-aged girls?’ Penner asked as she and Millar walked down the block toward Slater Street, playing the light from their flashlights back and forth over the ground.
‘No idea,’ Millar replied. ‘But there has to be some connection to all three of them. Some connection beyond having teen daughters who wrestle, no?’
‘Crazy love triangle?’ Penner offered, thinking back to Mrs. Wong’s co-worker. ‘Or…love square, I guess.’
‘It’s possible. There are a lot of wrestling meets during the year, so the parents spend a lot of time together. Some single moms and dads. Some unhappy marriages. Maybe some romances have developed,’ Millar said.
‘Well, it’s an avenue to keep exploring,’ Penner said, pausing as they arrived at a bench. ‘This must be the courtyard Mr. Poole was talking about.’ She surveyed the area and stood where the sausage cart would have been. ‘So, he would have seen the man picking her up over there.’ They crossed the street and started examining the sidewalk. It was definitely darker on this side of the street and the light from their flashlights seemed brighter and more focussed. As she swung her light towards the side of a building, Penner’s beam suddenly reflected back to her. ‘Millar, come check this out.’
Millar shone his flashlight toward the same area of sidewalk where Penner was looking as he walked over. ‘Looks like a pool of blood,’ he said.
‘Sure does,’ Penner said. ‘We may actually have our primary crime scene.’
In the light of their flashlights, they could see a surprisingly large pool of blood on the ground. Penner glanced around and noticed a trail of drops leading into the street, but they ended after only a few steps. ‘Strange there isn’t more of a trail,’ Penner said. ‘It takes a while for a wound to clot, so you’d think the drops would keep going. Especially if the victim was hanging over someone’s shoulder.’
‘Agreed,’ said Millar. ‘Maybe the killer wrapped something around the wound so he wouldn’t get blood on himself?’
‘Maybe. If he was carrying her for two blocks he’d probably wind up with quite a bit of blood on him. Even if he was wearing all black, it would still be noticeable if anyone saw him.’ Penner looked up as she heard Grant approaching. ‘Grant, call over your patrol buddies. I want them to look for a blood-soaked shirt, or towel or something. Get them to canvas, say, a four-block radius for now. We may make it bigger later. Oh, and tell forensics that we may have our primary crime scene.’
‘Sure thing, Penner,’ said Grant. Based on the look he got in return, using just last names was a one-way street, for now. ‘Sorry, ma-am.’ He turned to walk back.
‘Constable Grant,’ Millar said, stopping him before he got too far, ‘You always shower in the middle of the night?’
‘Sir?’
‘You said you missed the call from dispatch because you were in the shower,’ Millar said. ‘Do you always shower in the middle of the night?’
‘Not sure how that’s any of your business, sir, but sometimes, yes,’ Grant replied. ‘Last night, when I found out I didn’t have to do my patrol shift, I went out. When I got home, I decided to have a shower before bed.’
‘You went out. Where’d you go?’ Millar asked.
‘Now, that’s definitely none of your business,’ said Grant, with a quick flash of temper. ‘Excuse me, I have to go and do my job.’ He walked away.
‘What was that about?’ Penner had watched the exchange in surprise.
‘I just find something off with him, is all,’ Millar said. ‘I don’t know what, exactly. I can’t put my finger on it, but…’
‘Well, whatever it is, drop it. We need the help, okay,’ Penner said.
‘You’re the boss,’ said Millar, very insincerely.
‘Whatever.’ Penner was used to Millar’s moods. ‘Just try to play nice, okay?’ she said, turning back to look again at the dark puddle on the sidewalk. ‘So, what’s your take on all the blood?’
‘What’d ya mean?’ Millar asked. ‘Head wounds bleed a lot.’
‘I know. But, why didn’t we find big pools of blood anywhere near the other two crime scenes?’ Penner wondered. ‘We really should’ve found the murder scenes, don’t you think? We know they were both hit on the head, which caused a good size wound. They should have bled pretty much the same as this one, right?’
‘Good point,’ Millar said, thinking. ‘Well, with the first one, it rained pretty hard shortly after she was found. So, if the actual murder happened outside, the blood would, more than likely, have washed away. There would only have been a short window of time that anyone could have found it.’
‘Okay. That explains the first. And the second?’ Penner asked.
‘Well,’ Millar stopped, unsure. ‘You said she was tased right?’
‘Looks like it.’
‘So, maybe she was tased and then dragged off somewhere. Where’d you say she was found?’ Millar asked.
‘King Edward, by the Big Ben statue,’ Penner said.
‘That’s only a couple of blocks from that big park over on Range Road. Maybe she was dragged there and killed, then carried over to the statue and dumped,’ Millar said. ‘Lots of trees there to hide the blood.’
‘More like ten blocks, isn’t it? Long way to carry someone, even someone as small as Elaine Jackson,’ Penner said, doubtfully.
‘Worth checking out, though,’ Millar said. ‘Did it rain at all while I was gone?’
‘Don’t think so. Unless it happened to rain during the short time I was asleep,’ Penner said.
‘How ‘bout a nice romantic walk in the woods?’ Millar suggested with a smile.
‘Sounds real romantic,’ said Penner, as she saw Grant returning. ‘Grant! We’re going to the woods. Hope you don’t mind if that nice suit of yours gets dirty.’
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
Millar decided to ride with Penner to the second crime scene, and they pulled up alongside the Big Ben statue just ahead of Grant.
‘Right,’ said Penner, as they met up on the sidewalk, ‘So, let’s test our theory. I think we should start here, where the body was found, and retrace what may have been the killer’s steps by walking back towards the park on Range Road.’ Millar and Grant both nodded in agreement. ‘If we each take one of the cross streets, we can cover more ground. We’ll plan to meet up at the trailhead leading into the park, but keep your eyes on the ground for anything that may look like a blood trail—if you see something, call it in and we’ll all meet there. Sound good? I know uniforms did a canvas of the area, but they were asking questions, not necessarily looking for blood.’
‘Sounds like a plan,’ Millar said, checking the batteries in his flashlight. ‘I’ll head down Osgoode here.’
‘I’ll take Laurier,’ Grant jumped in.
‘I guess I’ll take Somerset then,’ said Penner. ‘I’ll see you both at the park. And remember,’ she added, looking back and forth at both Millar and Grant, ‘this isn’t a race or a competition.’
Millar rolled his eyes, but Grant took it in stride and asked, ‘Should we just stay on one side of the street, or kind of criss-cross?’
‘Good question,’ Penner said. ‘Just stay on one side heading there. If we don’t find anything, we can check the other side on the way back. I’d rather we gave both sides of the streets our complete attention. Okay? Let’s go.’
Millar started working his way down Osgoode Street while Penner and Grant each slowly made their way to their chosen streets, scanning the ground carefully as they went, looking for any sign that the victim had been brought that way. ‘It’s amazing how any little mark on the sidewalk can look like blood in the middle of the night…especially when you’re working with tired eyes,’ Penner thought, shining her light and squinting at any suspicious looking spot. After fifteen minutes of slowly working her way down the street, she arrived at the trailhead and waited for the other two.
A Striking Similarity Page 11