The K Handshape (24 page)

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Authors: Maureen Jennings

Tags: #Mystery, #FIC022000

BOOK: The K Handshape
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Dispenser in hand, I switched off the light and pressed my back to the wall, waiting until my eyes grew accustomed to the darkness. Something brushed against my legs and my heart thumped.

“Meow.”

Thanks a lot, Bertie. You just about gave me a heart attack. The layout of my flat is fairly standard. I was in the living room, the dining area was adjoined to a small kitchen, the door of which
was closed. A fire escape led from the kitchen window down to the side yard. To my right from where I was now, a hallway led to the bathroom and the two rear bedrooms. Along the front of the living/dining room was a long porch. When I got the house, I was pleased that we were at the end of a cul de sac. I liked the privacy and the quiet. Now I wished I’d bought something on the highway.

I made myself breath deeply and I started to calm down. I couldn’t hear anything, inside or out, but I was damned if I was going to stand here pinned against the wall by some bully boy. I was hot with anger, but I’m glad to say my head was cool as ice, a quality I had acquired somewhere along the way and for which I was grateful. Both the downstairs door and my entrance door had been locked, and although I wasn’t paying a lot of attention, I was pretty sure they hadn’t been tampered with. If anybody had broken into my flat, they would most likely have come up the fire escape. The front porch was only accessible if you had a ladder. Not out of the question, but again I didn’t see any sign that the French doors were broken. When I’d moved in I’d recarpeted the living room with a sturdy practical beige flecked carpet. At the moment, it wasn’t showing any trace of footprints or mud, which, given the rain, I would expect if somebody had walked across. I’d left my shoes at the door.

Also in my purse was a set of handcuffs. I often complained about how heavy they were but they were pretty much required even if you were off duty. Cautiously, I slid my hand into the bag and pulled them out, slipping the catch so that they were open.

I held my breath and listened. Nothing. If there was somebody in the flat he was keeping awfully still.

The kitchen was the likely place to start. At least I could determine if anybody had entered via the fire escape. Dispenser held at shoulder height, in front of me, I stepped softly over to the door and pushed it open slowly. No matter what you’ve seen on television or in the movies, sometimes opening a door slowly is a better move as it doesn’t make a noise and startle your antagonist into acting dangerously. Nothing stirred. Now I did move quickly. I stepped inside and flicked on the light, at the same time moving away from the doorway. The kitchen was empty except for Bertie, who stared at me from the countertop. From here the fire escape window looked intact but I walked over to make sure. It was fine.
No muddy marks anywhere. Nobody had come in that way. I let out my breath.

One by one, I examined the bathroom, my bedroom, and the spare room. My adrenaline level was dropping with its resultant slight shakiness. I yawned like a nervous dog. However, I was still livid. It was after midnight but I knew I’d be stupid not to report what had happened. I phoned Ed Chaffey. He answered on the second ring.

“Ed. Christine Morris here. Sorry it’s late but I just got in and I’ve had a love letter from our anon. Same author as Deidre’s, I believe.”

“Threatening?”

“Yes. It’s not stamped so he must have come by my house sometime today to deliver it.”

“Jesus. Read it to me.”

I did so.

He cussed again. “I don’t like that one bit. Can you stay somewhere else for the night?”

“I could but I’m not going to. He’s not in here, I can tell you that, and there hasn’t been a break-in.”

“Damn it, Chris, let’s not take any chances. We might be dealing with a psycho.”

That thought had crossed my mind. “Can you spare a car?”

“Of course. I’ll send one over right away.”

“Thanks, Ed.”

“Are you going to be okay?”

“Yes, I live with two attack cats.”

“Don’t do anything until you see the dispatch car.”

We hung up. I wasn’t sure what he meant by “don’t do anything” but in spite of a certain amount of bravado on my part, I was glad to know that the men in blue would be outside. I went back into the kitchen and wedged one of the kitchen chairs underneath the door knob. Then I saw the flashing lights of the police cruiser coming down the road. They stopped in front of the house and an officer got out. I stood at the window and waved. He waved back.

All barricaded in, I finally went to bed, totally exhausted now. I put my pepper spray beside the bed, wedged the chair against the door, and got under the covers. Even the fatigue couldn’t keep me completely asleep and I found myself waking up abruptly, all
senses on the alert. I was glad when my radio alarm went off. It was now getting light, which felt better. I put on my dressing gown and went through to the living room, followed by two sleepy cats, Tory yowling at me, I presumed in greeting. The cruiser was still outside. I’m sure it had been a very boring shift but I was grateful they were there. I went to make a large Thermos of coffee. At least I could do that for them.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

It was nine o’clock. Me, Leo, Jessica, an OPP constable named Lachlan, and the manager of the casino, Mr. Torvill, were huddled around the screen as eager as if we were all about to tune in to the latest episode of
24
. No, that’s not true. Leo and I were eager. Jessica looked apprehensive; Mr. Torvill looked anxious but I think that was habitual. I had chosen not to tell Leo about my love note. One thing at a time. I’d picked up Jessica and met him at the casino. Ben Snake wasn’t around but Mr. Torvill gave us his full attention. Jessica was quiet and looked as if she hadn’t slept well, which was I’m sure how I looked. We got everybody settled, told her what we wanted, and cued the tape to the place where Sigmund joined Deidre at the table. I switched on the tape recorder I had brought with me.

“He says, ‘Hello Dee. How’s it going? Sorry I’m late.’” Jessica began.

Already there was a discrepancy with what Sigmund had told us about just dropping in spontaneously to the casino to see her. You don’t apologize for being late unless you have a prior appointment.

“She says, ‘I didn’t think you’d show up.’ He says, ‘I thought I was a bit …’ Sorry, I didn’t get what he said. He ducks his chin; it’s hard to read.”

“Play it back,” said Leo.

The manager did a quick rewind and played the brief scene again. Jessica hesitated. “I’m not sure … something like, ‘ungenerous or ingenuous’ … It’s hard to say.”

“Go on.”

“She says, ‘Yes, I was offering you something, not asking to get something.”

That fitted with what Sigmund had said about Deidre wanting to be reconnected.

Jessica leaned forward. “He says, ‘I know, I’m sorry.’ She asks him, ‘Have you changed your mind then?’ He says, ‘Well not exactly but I thought we could go on talking.’” This was the part on the tape where Deidre clearly got pissed off.

“Enough said. No more talk. You’re in or you’re out.”

Sigmund turned away again and Jessica couldn’t get the next sentence. “He turned back. ‘I told you it wasn’t an easy choice.’ She replies, ‘Yes, it is.’”

The beckoning gesture was next. “He says, ‘Would you like to come over to the bar and discuss it further?’”

It was obvious what Deidre’s response was.

Jessica gave a rather grim chuckle. “She says, ‘No. Go home to your mother.’”

That was it. Sigmund slunk off. The rest we had seen.

I switched off my tape recorder.

“Thank you, Jessica.”

“Who is he?” she asked.

Leo looked at her, intent on reading any signals. “Don’t you recognize him?”

“No. I’ve never seen him before.”

“His name is Sigmund. Did Deidre ever mention his name?”

Jessica hesitated. “It’s not her brother, is it? She did say once she had a half-brother and I remember he had a funny name. Is that him?”

“It is. And you’re positive Deidre never said she was meeting him or anything like that?”

“No, she didn’t. I always had the impression she didn’t like him, or they weren’t allowed to talk to each other or some such thing.” She had pulled out a tissue and she wiped at her eyes as if she could rub away the images. “It is painful to watch Deedee alive. She loved to play poker.”

It had been hard on Leo too. “Thank you. I’m glad to know she had such good friends.”

Jessica muttered something about using the washroom and virtually ran from the room. Mr. Torvill followed her, presumably to show her the way and make sure she didn’t discover some hidden weakness in their security system to be used against them later. Constable Lachlan withdrew to a position near the door.

Leo slumped in his chair. “What’s he covering up, Chris? I don’t understand. That wasn’t such a big deal conversation that he couldn’t have told us.”

I didn’t have any easy words for him. It was strange all right.

“We’ll have to re-interview him. I’ll get this to Ed and he can organize it… You said you wanted to see Joy, but are you sure you’re up to it?”

“Yes, we should get that over with as soon as possible.” He frowned. “I am a bit leery about using Jessica. It might be too much for her. Nora communicates well enough. Let’s ask her to do it.”

“Good idea. And what about you? You’re looking done in yourself. We could wait a bit longer.”

He looked as if he were aging before my eyes. “No. You know we can’t do that, Chris. The sooner we can fill in the pieces of puzzle the better it will be.” He gave me a wry smile. “To tell the truth, the thing I’m not looking forward to is seeing Loretta. I’m glad you’ll be there. She is what you might call a formidable woman. God knows why I got talked into marrying her. She scares me shitless.”

Jessica came back into the room followed by Mr. Torvill.

“Do you want to continue?” the manager asked.

Leo shook his head. Deidre hadn’t spoken to anybody else until she’d left. Now we had to get back to Sigmund and see if we could winkle out some more of the truth. Leo wasn’t looking forward to seeing his ex. I wasn’t looking forward to questioning a deaf child about whether or not she could point the finger at her mother’s murderer.

Nora came to the door. She looked as if she hadn’t combed her hair in two days and had slept in her clothes. As soon as she saw who it was, she started ranting, not even stepping out of the doorway to let us in.

“I didn’t expect any of this. It isn’t my thing, den mother and all that. I’ve got a low tolerance for kids and I’ve never pretended otherwise.” Even three feet away, the beer fumes from her breath were a knockout. “And frankly I’ve got an even lower tolerance for control freaks. Dee wasn’t like that and we lived just fine, thank you. I’d appreciate it if you’d get her off my back.”

“By ‘her,’ do you mean Loretta?” Leo asked.

“That’s the one. She’s hardly seen the kid since she was born and she swoops in like a fucking Mary Poppins with fangs. She’s making things worse, if you ask me, but of course nobody is asking me. I’m just the dyke who got on the payroll because people felt sorry for her. The charity case who’s about to lose her job.”

“Nora, you’ve been drinking,” said Leo.

“Now that is very perceptive of you, Doctor Shrink. But you know what? Even a bit totted up, I’m better for that kid than her fucking so-called grandma. She can’t communicate with her for piss and she won’t let me do it…”

We hadn’t even advanced as far as the foyer and Nora would probably have continued her tirade but the door to the kitchen opened and a tall, grey-haired woman came out. Leo had described his ex as formidable and I understood why. She was big-boned, with a tanned complexion that accentuated her keen blue eyes. Her short straight hair and no-nonsense shirt and jeans were all declarations of her politics. Down with Western vanity, up with “tune in to the earth” philosophy, the kind of woman you could easily imagine leading a revolution. But I thought she had a nice face, open and intelligent. Nora stepped back without being asked and Loretta came over to us, taking Leo by the shoulders to give him a peck on the cheek. She was a good eight inches taller and he had to tilt his head so she could reach him. They were stiff and awkward with each other.

She let him go and thrust out her hand to me. “Hello, I’m Loretta Larsen, you are…?”

“Christine Morris. I’m a colleague of Leo’s.”

We shook hands, hers firm as to be expected.

“Come in. I’m in the kitchen with Joy.”

She didn’t look at Nora, didn’t acknowledge her existence, and the girl was left to trail after us.

Joy was at the kitchen table crayoning on a piece of paper. She had her back to us and didn’t move. Loretta went to the light switch and flicked it up and down. Joy turned around. She didn’t react for a moment, then she smiled, grunted, and made a sign, then held up her drawing.

“That’s lovely, dear,” said Loretta. Joy didn’t respond and Loretta turned her head so she was facing her. “Lovely,” she said slowly, making the word distinct. Nora snorted, went behind her, and made a sign to Joy, who smiled and responded. She made some signs and pointed in my direction.

“She wants you to sit beside her,” said Nora.

I did as commanded, aware that both Leo and Loretta weren’t happy about me being the chosen one.

“Nora, why don’t you make us all some coffee?” said Loretta.

If I could have drawn a balloon coming from Nora’s mouth, it would have said, “
Eff off and make your own coffee
,” but she clenched her teeth and stomped over to the sink, where she started to rinse out the coffee pot with much clink and clatter.

“How is she?” Leo asked, indicating his granddaughter.

“She is asking for her mother every five minutes. We have to tell her what’s happened. She won’t settle down until something definite is said.”

Oh God. Selfishly I didn’t want to be there when that happened. I couldn’t imagine how you can get across that kind of news to a child.

“I want to ask her some questions first,” said Leo.

Loretta folded her arms across her full, unfettered breasts. “What sort of questions?”

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