by C. A. Larmer
“Stop stressing, Alicia. I’m fine, although I lost my best denim jacket thanks to bloody Brandon.” She blew on the top of her cup. “So what do you think he meant by all that?”
The two sisters mulled over Brandon’s words for many minutes, trying to come up with an innocent explanation for lines like, “there won’t be any cops this time” and “just give me the signal and I’ll do the rest.”
“What does he mean ‘she won’t know what hit her?’” said Alicia, “and who the hell was he talking about?”
“You think he’s a hit man?”
Lynette burst into giggles then, sounding just like Missy. She was clearly full of nervous energy, adrenaline still bouncing about her system, and she tried to swallow back her laughter as she said, “He doesn’t look like Al Pacino!”
Alicia scowled. “This is not funny, Lynette. Someone’s life could be in danger here. We need to tell Jackson.”
“No way! You said yourself he’s losing his patience with us. He’ll only bring Indira in, and she’ll be even more furious than he is. Besides, it’ll just ruin everything. They’ll drag Brandon in for questioning, he’ll deny everything, say I misheard him, and it’ll completely blow my cover.”
“Who cares? You’re not working for him again, right?”
“I have to! I’ve signed up as part of his bar team for the next Cinema Under the Stars this Saturday.”
Alicia stared at her, horrified. “You can’t possibly do that! Not after what you just heard!”
“Now more than ever, Alicia. I have to go and see what he’s up to. I might be able to catch him in the act.”
“I don’t want you to catch him in the act! I want to call Jackson and get him to catch him in the act.”
“Brandon will spot Jackson a mile off, and it’ll all be called off, whatever it is he’s planning. This is the only option. He’s already suspicious of the police. If he gets even a whiff of an undercover cop, it’ll all be over and we’ll be no closer to solving this thing.”
“I thought you said it wasn’t our job to solve Jackson’s cases.”
Lynette stared at her. “Since when do you listen to me? Come on, we’re so close. Don’t lose your nerve now.”
Alicia thumped her cup down on the table. “I can’t let you do it, Lynny. Forget it. It’s just too dangerous.”
“Now who sounds like Anders Bright? It’s a public park, Alicia. I’ll be fine!” Lynette softened her tone. “How about this: Why don’t you and the rest of the book club come along? Pull up a blanket and keep an eye on things, make sure I’m safe.”
Alicia thought about it, her frown relaxing slightly. She wasn’t sure they’d be much help, but it was better than sending Lynette in alone.
“And don’t forget there’s several security guards on duty, yeah?” Lynette continued. “I’ll be perfectly safe, I promise. They’ll protect me if Brandon gets out of line.”
“Like they protected Kat Mumford?” Alicia said, feeling her stomach tighten again.
Chapter 32
“We ever find those overpriced specs?” Indira asked, stretching out as she leaned her chair back.
It was Friday morning, almost two weeks since the murder, and still no arrest. Jackson looked up from his desk.
“Kat Mumford’s?”
“No, Miss Marple’s.”
“Sorry,” he said, “I’ve got my head in this other case.”
“The overdose?”
“No, the shooter on the grassy knoll.” He gave her a “gotcha” smile as he reached for the plastic bag sitting in the in tray on his desk. He looked through it again, turning the bag over, the contents clinking together as he did so.
“I think I need to get Zara back in here, see if my Brian is the same Brian who’s gone missing from AA.”
Indira looked alert now. “Yeah, about that. Tell me again why you think it’s the same guy?”
“I know it’s a long shot. I know Brian’s a common name, but…”
He explained what the coroner had said to him about the old bruising on Brian Donahue’s face and fists. “He was a scrapper, that’s for sure. Those bruises could have come from Eliot Mumford. Plus the way Zara described AA Brian, it fits the description of my overdose to a T—he looks a bit like a skinny punk.”
“Your Brian died earlier than Kat, didn’t he? So he couldn’t’ve done it.”
“Yes, but if it is the same guy, well, what kind of a wacky coincidence is that?”
“I appreciate your disdain for coincidences, Jacko, really I do. I’m not much of a fan of them myself, but can you please put your OD aside for a moment and try to focus on this case? We’re getting desperate now.”
A uniformed officer appeared at the door, a small thumb drive in hand. “Got the pix, ma’am.”
“Good stuff,” she said, waving her in. “Anyone spot you? Give you any trouble?”
“No, ma’am.” She handed over the thumb drive. “No one suspected a thing.”
“We’ll make a detective out of you yet, Gertie. Thanks for that.”
The officer beamed as she departed while Jackson stared at her, his eyes narrowing.
“What have you been up to?”
Indira ignored the question as she stuck the drive in her computer and waited. Within seconds a series of images began appearing on the screen. Some were a little grainy, some blurred, but most clearly showed a range of people all milling about outside a red brick building with graffiti tattooed across the sides. Some were smoking, some were talking, two just had their heads down and their hands shoved into their jackets.
“Last night’s AA meeting,” she told Jackson, whose ears suddenly pricked up.
He leaned over and started scanning the pictures, relieved to see that neither Alicia nor Perry appeared in the mix.
“You got Gertie to take these last night?”
She sniggered. “See, I can be as bent as the best of you. Any chance you can get that girlfriend of yours back in? I want to ask her some questions.”
Jackson stared at her surprised for a moment, then placed the call.
An equally surprised Alicia made her way to squad headquarters in record time. She could not believe that it was Indira asking for her help, not Jackson, and she hoped this marked a turning point in their frosty relationship. She felt emboldened and decided she would tell both detectives all about the conversation Lynette had overheard between Brandon and some co-conspirator on the streets of Vaucluse last night.
Yet no sooner had she stepped into Indira’s office, the chill set in and Alicia quickly abandoned that idea. The DI barely smiled as she sat down, and her tone was clipped and officious. There was not even the slightest whiff of thawing ice in her demeanour.
“We appreciate your coming in, Ms Finlay,” Indira said, “but I do expect that this conversation today remain confidential. And by confidential I mean you do not mention it to anybody. Okay? Not a soul. That includes your sister, your book club pals, your mother. Do I make myself clear?”
Alicia glanced at Jackson, who was leaning against a back cabinet, arms crossed, blank expression on his face.
She turned back to Indira. “What about my dog? Can I mention it to Max?”
Indira stared at Alicia, steely eyed, while Jackson tried to stifle a chuckle.
Alicia sighed. “I won’t tell anyone.”
She glanced back at Jackson, but she wasn’t chuckling along. She didn’t like Indira’s terms one bit. Alicia told her sister everything. How was she going to keep this—whatever this was—from Lynette? Nor was she in the habit of keeping secrets from her “book club pals”. Anders had done that in the past, and it was part of the reason they had split up. She loathed secrets between friends.
It wasn’t just that though. Alicia didn’t like the way Indira was speaking to her again today. She had called Alicia in to help, after all. She could try to be a little more polite about it.
But most of all, she didn’t like the way Jackson was standing there, smugly chuck
ling away, letting his colleague harangue her once again. She knew the DI was running this investigation, but she also knew that outside of this case, they were of equal rank.
So why wasn’t Jackson telling his colleague to pull her head in?
She flashed him a frown.
Indira caught that and said, “If this is too difficult for you to manage, Ms Finlay, I’ll get Jackson here to show you back out.”
She turned her frown upon Indira. “It’s fine.”
The DI waited a beat and then twisted her computer monitor around to face Alicia. She tapped at the keyboard as the screen came back to life.
“I have some images here. I’d like you to take a look at them and let me know which of the gentlemen photographed goes by the name of Trevor.”
Alicia glanced at Jackson, quizzically this time, then back at the monitor.
“Trevor from AA?” she said, and Indira nodded.
Alicia smudged her lips to the side, intrigued by the request now, and then leaned in closer to take a better look.
“There he is!” she said almost immediately.
Trevor was the first person pictured. A series of shots showed him striding towards the Neighbourhood Centre, glancing around, and then fiddling with the door—obviously unlocking it before a session. The next set of images revealed a variety of people walking past the building, some stopping and entering, others leaning against the wall to smoke a cigarette or converse. Trevor reappeared at one point with something in his hand, and there were several more images of him smoking and interacting with various AA members. Among the familiar faces, Alicia spotted Zara, Timothy and the tallest of the Mias.
Indira pointed to the clearest image of Trevor. “That’s Trevor, yes? You’re absolutely certain?”
“Yep, he’s the one who chairs the meetings.”
“Do you think that man, Trevor, could be the man you saw seated beside the pregnant woman on the night Kat Mumford died?” She held up a finger. “Just take a good look. Moustache or no moustache, could that be him?”
Alicia stared at the screen again. “I don’t think it is, sorry, but I really didn’t see him up close or even from the front. He was a couple of blankets in front of us, so I suppose it could be, but I’m not certain.”
Indira made a note of something on a pad on her desk and then said, “Have another good look at the images on the screen for me please, Ms Finlay. Is there anyone else you recognise from the film night? Perhaps they weren’t at the group meeting you and your friend decided to crash the other night.” Her tone had turned icy again. “Just take a look and tell me, is anyone even vaguely familiar to you?”
Alicia let that comment slide and studied each picture individually. Eventually she shook her head, and Indira turned the monitor back.
“Right, well, thanks for that. We appreciate your help. Jackson will escort you out.”
Alicia glanced at Jackson, who gave her a warm smile now and was opening the office door. They didn’t say a word until he had walked her halfway down the corridor, then she rounded on him, her curiosity just nudging out her fury.
“She dragged me all the way in for that? Seriously? And do I really need to keep it from Lynette and the gang? What’s the big deal?”
“I think Singho’s concerned we’ll have the civil rights nutjobs on our case for photographing a confidential AA group.”
“Why does she want to know anyway?”
“It’s just a hunch she’s got, something she wants to clarify.”
“Well, she can be a little nicer about it. What is that woman’s problem?”
He placed a hand on her back. “We’re at the business end of this investigation. She always gets a bit growly at this stage.”
“A bit growly? She’s bloody rude is what she is! She asked me in, remember? If it had been Perry, he would’ve told her where she could stick those pictures—and the camera!”
Jackson smiled. “Which is why you’re here and not him.”
They walked in silence until they got to the lifts. She stabbed at the button and turned her back on him.
“You okay?” he asked.
She turned to look at him. Unbelievable!
“What?” he asked, genuine confusion on his face.
She crossed her arms over her chest. “You could’ve stuck up for me in there, you know? Could have told her to play nicely!”
He went to put an arm around her, but she stepped back. Last night she had decided that Lynette was wrong, that she had to tell her boyfriend about Brandon’s suspicious plans for the upcoming film night. Now she didn’t want to tell him squat.
“I’m sorry, Alicia, but she is the lead investigator. I had to let her do her thing.”
She stabbed the down button again a few times. Where was the bloody lift?
He put a hand on her arm, but she shook him off.
Jackson said, “Honestly, she’s just like that sometimes.” He paused as the lift went ping. “Alicia, please, you mustn’t take it personally.”
Her jaw dropped as she stepped inside the elevator. “She’s rude to me, and I’m not to take it personally? Is she rude to all the witnesses in her cases. Is that how she does her thing? If so, it’s little wonder you guys are getting absolutely nowhere with this case!”
Then she scowled at the floor as the doors slowly gobbled her up.
Feeling like he’d been beaten over the head with a hammer, Jackson was just making his way down the corridor when he heard the elevator sing out again. He swung around, relief on his face, thinking Alicia was back, but the other elevator door opened and a pregnant woman stepped out.
“Oh hi, Ms Olden,” he said. “Come this way.”
Maz Olden received a much warmer welcome than Alicia had enjoyed, and Indira even offered her a cup of tea as Jackson helped her into a seat.
She waved her off saying, “I spend too much time with my legs crossed as it is, but thanks.”
Indira smiled kindly, and Jackson resumed his position behind her, wishing the DI could show his girlfriend the same courtesies and wondering where it had all gone wrong. He knew Indira was unhappy with the book club’s interference, and he didn’t blame her, but he also knew he was partially responsible for that, had given them the green light from the start. He just wished he’d smoothed that over better, wondered what he could have done differently.
“Thanks so much for coming in today, Ms Olden,” Indira began.
“Maz, please. Ms Olden makes me sound so, well, old.”
“Maz then.” Indira clicked her screen back to life. “So we’ve asked you in today to see if you can recognise someone for us.” She turned the screen around to reveal a magnified image of Trevor. All the other images from AA had been shut down, and Indira was pointing at Trevor’s head.
“I’m wondering if this man looks familiar to you.”
Maz heaved herself forward, leaning over her pregnant belly as she studied the picture. Her face scrunched up.
“Don’t think so. Why?”
Indira frowned. Damn it. She smiled again. “Take a really good look, Maz. Imagine him with a dark moustache. Could that man possibly be the same man that was seated next to you at the film night?”
Maz looked a little alarmed now and stared back at the screen, studying it for a moment longer before shaking her short red curls. “Nope, sorry, I don’t think that’s him. That bloke was older, maybe thinner? Definitely had a moustache.”
“Yes, but moustaches can be shaved off,” Indira said. “Take one more look for me, please.”
Maz sighed and looked again, then sat back and held on to her belly. “Wish I could help you, but no, that’s not him.”
Indira could barely conceal her disappointment as she opened the rest of the images from AA and pointed to the screen again. Like Alicia, Maz did not believe any of the faces looked familiar from the film night, and eventually Indira conceded defeat and shut the screen down. She thanked Maz for her time and then watched as she accepted the mug of tea that
Officer Gertie was now handing her.
“So will your mum be in the actual delivery suite with you?” Indira asked, making conversation. “Please don’t tell me you’re doing it all alone.”
Maz blew on her tea and shook her head. “Nah. Mum’ll be in there. I’m one of four kids. She knows what she’s doing.”
“That’s a relief. And will you be involving the father at any point? Or keeping him—”
“No way!” She blinked and then a sad smile enveloped her lips. “He doesn’t even want to know about it, so…”
Then she patted her belly again, which was poking out from her skirt, looking flushed red and smooth as a bowling ball.
“We’re going to be fine, aren’t we, buddy? We’re going to be great.”
Then she smiled a little nervously before placing the cup back to her lips.
*********
Liam Jackson held out a large takeaway latte and nudged his eyebrows in the air. “Truce?”
Alicia looked up from her desk with a start and quickly turned her smile downwards. “It’s going to take more than cheap coffee, you know.”
“I’ll have you know this coffee cost five bucks! And you’ll find, if you look a little closer, there’s a little something extra on top.”
Alicia narrowed her eyes and took the coffee he was holding out, noting the small love heart-shaped chocolate resting on the lid.
“Humph!” she said, unwrapping it and dropping it into her mouth.
He pulled a chair from a nearby desk and said, “May I?”
She shrugged as if she really didn’t care and watched as he sat down.
“I’m sorry, Alicia. You’re right. I should have told Indira to snap out of it. She’s not normally that rude, or at least not to witnesses. I really don’t know what her problem is at the moment. I mean, I know she’s furious you guys got involved, but that’s my fault, not yours.”
“Exactly! You asked us to look out for suspicious stuff, remember? At the film night.”
“I know. I just didn’t think you’d keep looking out for stuff.” He smiled. “I’ll explain all that to Indira, but to be honest, I have a feeling there’s more to it than that.”