He wasn’t sure when he’d feel comfortable sharing that with her, but right now definitely wasn’t the time. He told her what Adamson had said about doing a lot of research into him.
‘Like he’s stalking you,’ she said. ‘And you think he’s using information he might have found to turn the screws.’
‘It’s possible.’
A sharp bark of laughter came down the line. It had the triumphant ring of a person whose perseverance had finally paid off against all odds.
‘It’s more than possible. It’s what I’ve been saying all along. Let me re-phrase that. It’s what I’ve been trying to get into your thick skull all along. Except some people just don’t listen.’
That was the moment he decided to make a big mistake. Not intentionally, of course. It was still a big mistake.
‘Yeah, well, I was thinking about what you were saying last night as well.’
‘Uh-uh.’
‘What do you mean uh-uh?’
‘You’re not putting this on me.’
‘I’m not putting anything on anyone, I’m—’
‘Really? That’s not what it sounded like to me. You changed your mind because of what I said. I’m not taking that kind of responsibility.’
He knew this was one he couldn’t win.
‘You’re saying I shouldn’t have kicked him out of the car? I should’ve found out what he wants.’
‘No, I didn’t say that.’
He held the phone away from his ear, thought about banging it on the steering wheel. There was obviously something interfering with the way the conversation was being relayed back and forth. In reality, he knew what the problem was. There was a man on one end of the line and a woman on the other. Effective communication didn’t stand a chance.
‘What are you saying?’
‘You need to make your own mind up, that’s all. If you want to run around after him, that’s fine by me. But don’t blame me when it doesn’t work out like you want it to. There are flies out there that envy your ability to sniff out shit.’
‘Okay . . .’
‘And I might not always be able to dig you out of whatever mess you get yourself into.’
He didn’t know if she meant physical mess or emotional. It sounded like she was washing her hands of both. He felt a little dazed, not quite sure how the conversation had taken the turn it had. That reminded him—she’d called him in the first place.
‘What were you calling about,’ he said.
‘Oh. Right.’ Seemed she’d forgotten too. ‘I ran your client’s wife’s name through the system and got a hit. From five years ago. About the time she died.’
‘Or didn’t.’
She picked up on something in his voice.
‘You sound very sure.’
‘Yep, she’s alive, no doubt about it.’
Then he told her what he’d found out at the jewelry store. She listened without interruption, the familiar sound of a pencil tapping on teeth providing a backdrop.
‘Hmm. I don’t know what to make of that. I don’t know how it fits in with what I’ve got. It looks like she might have been a witness to a homicide back then. We’ve got CCTV footage of her at the scene. So, if she is alive, you can add us to the list of people who want to talk to her. What I wanted to say was, you might get a call before that.’
He laughed.
‘What?’
‘You’re always saying how you do most of my job for me—’
‘Uh-huh. That’s because I do.’
‘—and now it looks like you’re using me to do yours.’
‘Welcome to my world.’
Chapter 24
EVAN NEEDED TO GET his head straight before he decided whether to go back to Adamson or not. It wouldn’t be easy, to go back, cap in hand, and say sorry I told you to fuck off. He needed more information first.
Which is why he was standing on the doorstep of Elwood Crow’s big old Victorian pile later that afternoon. Crow, a semi-retired private investigator himself, had played a crucial role in solving Evan’s last case. But it wasn’t help with his current case that Evan was after this time.
No, it was Crow’s unhealthy interest in Evan himself, and in Sarah’s disappearance in particular, that led him back to the old man. The front door swung open smoothly, leaving Evan disappointed as it always did that it didn’t creak as befitted a property like Crow’s. Crow beamed at him like an ageing vulture might, pleasantly surprised to find the carcass of a dead dog left for him on his doorstep.
‘You look a bit off your feed,’ Crow said as he invited Evan in with a low sweep of his arm.
‘I’ve got a lot on my mind.’
Evan followed him down the dusty hallway to the room at the back of the house that Crow shared with his namesake, a pet American crow called Plenty that was allowed to fly free in the room.
As always, Evan felt uncomfortable under Crow’s scrutiny. In keeping with his looks, he liked to pick Evan’s bones clean. Or if not his bones, his mind—and his heart. Nothing was off-limits and Crow’s warning that accompanied his offer to help find Sarah was never far from Evan’s mind.
There are none so lost as those who will not be found
What it came down to was there was always a price to be paid for Crow’s help—and the old man wasn’t interested in money.
‘Ready for me to find your wife?’ Crow said, as they took their habitual places in the worn leather easy chairs either side of the fireplace.
‘Perhaps.’
Crow leaned forward in his chair, his liver-spotted hands clasping his knees.
‘Excellent. A move in the right direction.’
In all his other dealings with Crow, Evan had steadfastly refused to enter into a discussion about himself. He was wary of opening himself up to the old man, afraid of where it might lead.
‘I saw a photograph of you at the end of the Hanna case,’ Crow said.
Evan knew the one he was talking about. After the showdown with Floyd Gray in the forest clearing, there’d been a photograph taken of Evan with his nephew Kyle on one side and Guillory on the other, supporting him after Floyd shot him in the leg. For a moment he was unsure why Crow had mentioned it. As usual, he’d underestimated the speed with which Crow made connections he was barely aware of himself. He knew what was coming now.
‘Say it.’
Crow leaned back in his chair again, tucking his hands into his armpits. He grinned, showing him a mouth only half full of teeth. Not very good ones, at that.
‘You’re getting to know me.’
‘Uh-huh.’
‘The woman in the picture . . .’
‘Kate Guillory.’
‘Yes. Does she have anything to do with your reluctance for me to help you?’
‘Why would you ask that?’
Crow raised an eyebrow, pushing more wrinkles up into his forehead.
‘Apart from the fact that I’ve got eyes in my head, you mean?’
Evan couldn’t bring the details of the picture to mind, but Crow had seen something in it.
‘The way you’re leaning on her, that’s all. Her, and not one of those other big strong policemen who could have supported you much better. It’s as if she wasn’t just providing physical support for a man with a wound in his leg.’
He left the rest of it unsaid. The unspoken words hung in the air between them.
‘She’s a good-looking woman,’ Crow said instead. ‘I can’t blame you.’
Evan felt as if he was on Ivanovsky’s slab, his skin peeled back and pinned like a medical specimen, his insides on show for the whole world to inspect. He suddenly saw a way to divert Crow’s attentions, although, today, it was always going to be about him.
‘What happened in that clearing—that’s why I’m here.’
Crow nodded as if to say, well deflected.
‘But not about Kate?’
‘No.’
‘Sorry. I shan’t interrupt anymore.’
Evan fished his
Zippo lighter out of his pocket.
‘I never showed you this, did I?’
Crow took it, shook his head. He barely looked at it, which was unusual. Most people read the inscription.
‘No. But I had one just like it.’
‘You were in Vietnam?’
‘Like you, you mean?’ It was a stupid thing for Evan to say. ‘But, yes, I was. And before you ask, that’s a story for another day. What about your lighter?’
‘I think it belonged to Sarah.’
‘You think—’
Evan held up a hand.
‘Let me tell you what happened in that forest clearing.’
Crow nodded and got up. He handed the lighter back to Evan, went to a drinks cabinet and brought back a bottle and two glasses.
‘I’m not sure you’re old enough to be drinking this,’ he said, turning the bottle so that Evan could see the label.
Pappy Van Winkle’s Family Reserve
‘You know what that is?’ Crow said, handing one of the glasses to Evan.
‘Best bourbon money can buy.’
‘Exactly. So, two things. Don’t even think about asking for ice and it better be a good story.’
He poured them both a couple of fingers, put the bottle on the floor. Evan took a sip, wondered how long he could stretch the story out. Crow read his mind, wagged a finger at him. Evan leaned back and closed his eyes, feeling the familiar throb in his leg already.
‘Floyd Gray, the guy who abducted my nephew, had a Doberman, Marlene. He loved that dog more than anything. She was shot and killed by a Russian gangster. I won’t tell you what Floyd did back to him. But then I shot Floyd, injuring him, and he wasn’t going to be able to bury his dog. I promised to do it for him if he’d tell me the story behind this.’
He held up the lighter. Crow kept watching him over the rim of his glass. He held it resting on his top lip, savoring the aroma.
‘He told me a story he’d heard from Adamson—’
‘I remember Adamson’s name,’ Crow said. ‘Hendricks put him in a coma. He was going to bury him alive with you.’
Evan shouldn’t have been surprised by Crow’s memory. He thought more before nine a.m. each day than most people thought all month.
‘Floyd said Adamson had spent some time working for a bunch of low-life drug dealers. About five, six years ago. There was a situation. He didn’t know what it was about. Adamson and his partner had to meet some guy, pick up a delivery. It’s what they did, except this one was different. They were told to whack the guy as soon as they had the goods. But when he turned up he had a woman with him. They weren’t expecting that. When I asked him what her name was, he said he didn’t know. They were going to kill them both. Then at the last minute they got a call.’
He paused to take a sip of his bourbon, see what effect the story was having on Crow. He seemed to be paying more attention to something floating in his drink.
‘Floyd dragged it out, kept me twisting in the wind as long as possible. Then he said they got called off.’
Crow looked up from his drink.
‘Where’s the Zippo come into this?’
‘That’s what I said. He told me Adamson said it was the woman’s. Said he took it off her when they were going to kill them and kept it anyway.’
Crow put his drink on the table beside him. He steepled his fingers, touched his lips to them.
‘Talk me through how you think this has anything to do with Sarah.’
Before Evan put his thoughts into words, the pet crow took off from the other side of the room and landed on the table where Crow had just put his drink. It dipped its beak in, then threw back its head and swallowed. Evan half expected the old man to backhand it across the room.
‘He doesn’t drink much,’ Crow said. ‘And it helps him sleep.’
The bird was now eyeing up Evan’s drink. Evan put his hand over the top of the glass. He’d have sworn the bird winked at him.
‘Talk me through it,’ Crow said again.
‘Okay. Sarah had a Zippo lighter exactly like this one. How many women do you think have something like that? She disappeared at the same time this incident happened. Adamson was living in the house where I found the lighter.’
He knew his words hadn’t done justice to what he felt inside. It sounded weak, might easily be coincidence. Crow didn’t bother pointing out such obvious flaws. He said something much more damning instead.
‘Ignore for now all the questions about why or how Sarah got involved with these people in the first place. For your explanation to work, Adamson must have been lying when he said they were called off. Otherwise Sarah would have come running home to you. Unless something else happened to her as well, something that prevented her from coming home. That seems like a bit too much bad luck for one person.’
Without asking, Crow topped up his drink, held out his hand for Evan’s empty glass. The implications of his words called for the numbing effects of more alcohol, a thicker layer of protection from all the sharp thoughts in Evan’s head. He poured Evan a generous measure, handed back the glass, then rested his large hand on Evan’s knee a few seconds, his fingers trailing off as he flopped backwards.
‘It’s all too easy to understand why he would lie,’ Crow said. ‘Nobody would willingly admit to killing a man and a woman in cold blood.’
They both stared into their drinks a long moment. The pet crow lifted off from the table and settled on Evan’s knee, its sharp claws digging into his flesh through the thin fabric of his pants. It dipped its head and took a sip of his drink. Evan didn’t have the heart to shoo it away.
‘Why now?’ Crow said.
‘Adamson woke up from his coma.’
‘Ah.’
‘I’ve talked to him a couple times. He came to see me earlier today.’
‘He wants something for his story? From the horse’s mouth as it were.’
‘If you can believe a word he says, of course.’
Crow nodded as if that was a given. In all things, not just Adamson’s story.
‘What does he want?’
‘I don’t know. I told him to . . . get lost. Not in those words.’
For the first time ever, Crow looked surprised by something Evan said. He shook his head slowly.
‘You surprise me.’
‘You’re not the only one. I surprise myself. And—’
‘Kate Guillory? I knew there was something there.’
Crow stood up and walked away. Evan reckoned he’d realized he might be wearing fifty bucks’ worth of expensive bourbon if he carried on like that. Crow stood behind Evan’s chair, rested a hand on his shoulder.
‘What do you want me to do?’
‘I need more information so I can decide whether to go back to Adamson. I might still tell him to get lost, depending on what he wants from me. But I need some confirmation of what he’s already said.’
Evan felt Crow nodding through the hand on his shoulder. He got the impression Crow was staying behind him so he couldn’t see his face. His words confirmed it.
‘You know the only way we’ll find any confirmation is if it’s for the worst. There won’t be any reports along the lines of man and woman saved by last minute phone call.’
The implication was clear. It would be much more likely to find a report that said:
Man and woman executed at the side of the road.
Chapter 25
‘DO YOU HAVE ANY plans for tonight?’ Crow said.
For a moment, Evan thought he was fishing for information about his relationship with Guillory again. He shook his head.
‘Why not stay for supper? I’m an excellent cook.’
Evan laughed out loud. Nothing like blowing your own trumpet. Crow joined in, setting off the bird. It was like an invitation to dinner at the madhouse.
‘Depends,’ Evan said. He nodded towards the pet crow that was eyeing him suspiciously. ‘You’re not planning on putting him in a pie, are you?’
‘I�
�ll pretend I didn’t hear that.’
‘Will your wife be joining us?’
Crow’s wife, also called Sarah, spent most of her life upstairs in bed. She suffered from Alzheimer’s Disease. Crow insisted on caring for her at home.
‘No. I’ll have to take something up for her at some point, but she won’t be joining us. Thank you for asking.’
Evan glanced up the stairs as they moved into the kitchen. Crow’s wife was as lost to him as was his own. He stuck his hands into his pockets, felt the Zippo lighter.
‘Tell me about Vietnam.’
Crow busied himself around the kitchen. Evan wondered if he’d heard him.
‘No. Another time, maybe.’
It didn’t leave any room for argument. As was always the case with Crow, the transfer of information was a one-way street. Crow gave up his secrets with all the frequency and enthusiasm of the Vatican.
‘What are you working on at the moment?’ Crow said as if to confirm Evan’s thoughts.
‘It’s, uh—’
‘Find us a nice bottle of wine,’ Crow interrupted. He pointed with a knife at the well-stocked wine rack in the corner.
Evan stood in front of it, guessing that the contents were worth about the same as his car if the bourbon they’d drunk was anything to go by. It was a bewildering choice. He thought of a number at random. Twenty-three. Accordingly, he ran his finger down to the second row, then along three columns. He pulled out the bottle, showed it to Crow.
‘Excellent choice,’ Crow said.
‘One of my favorites,’ Evan agreed.
‘Glasses are in the cupboard over there. You were about to tell me what you’re working on.’
Evan found the glasses and uncorked the wine, poured them both a drink. Apparently, he didn’t pour enough. Crow made a keep-it-coming gesture with the knife until he was satisfied.
‘It’s a strange one,’ Evan said and talked him through it, all the way to the confirmation in the jewelry store that morning that Lauren was still very much alive. Crow listened, making the occasional, noncommittal noise as he chopped vegetables and prepared the meat.
Now that he was getting to know him better, Evan wasn’t surprised by Crow’s comment when he finished his story.
Resurrection Blues Page 14