The Detective Lane Casebook #1 Read online

  Big man took a step closer.

  Scout barked.

  The man stepped back. “Hey, Annie, grab some cheese outta my bag!”

  Ernie’s wrist and elbow ached from the strain of holding Scout’s leash. “Uncle Bob?”

  “I’m Ralph Devine,” Big man said.

  “Here it is,” Annie said. She hefted the camera to her shoulder and tossed a bag of cheese.

  Ernie couldn’t seem to get enough oxygen.

  “You’re Ernie Rapozo.” Ralph fumbled with the bag, pulled out a piece of cheese and broke it in half. He offered it to Scout.

  She sniffed the treat.

  Ernie saw the shirt tail retract from Ralph’s fly. “How do you know my name?”

  Ralph smiled. “It’s our job to know. We just want to ask you some questions. No harm in that?”

  Ernie couldn’t stop shivering.

  Scout growled as Ralph took a half step forward.

  “You gettin’ this?” Ralph said to his partner.

  “Rolling,” Annie crouched for a lower angle of the boy and the dog.

  “Have you seen Bob Swatsky recently?” Ralph said. He opened his hand. Scout inched forward, then retreated without taking the cheese. Ralph closed his fist. “Come on baby.” With his other hand, he motioned Annie closer.

  Ernie said, “How come it’s so cold?”

  “You gotta be kiddin’,” Ralph said.

  Ernie watched sweat form along Ralph’s hairline.

  Annie moved onto the grass. Ralph moved toward Scout.

  He revealed the cheese. Scout turned toward Annie.

  Ernie blinked. In that instant, he imagined a knife. Ernie opened his eyes.

  “Hey, stop it!” Annie said.

  “What’s wrong?” Ralph kept his eyes on Ernie.

  “Dog stuck his nose in my crotch.” Annie pointed the camera at Scout.

  “Her,” Ernie said.

  “What?” Ralph said.

  “Scout’s a she, not a he,” Ernie said.

  “Whatever.” Annie pointed the camera at Ernie. “Tell ‘her’ to stop.”

  “You tell her,” Beth said.

  Ralph looked past Ernie. Annie pointed the camera at Beth striding up the sidewalk in a pink nightshirt.

  “Mom, you aren’t wearing a bra,” Ernie said.

  “Where’d you go? I woke up and you were gone.” Beth leaned to help Ernie to his feet.

  “Took the dog for a walk. Lisa was snoring. I couldn’t sleep.” Ernie swayed and Beth caught him around the shoulders. “Do you know where Bob Swatsky is?” Ralph said. Annie moved in for a close-up.

  “Who are you?” Beth said.

  “Ralph Devine. V-Channel. Do you know where Bob Swatsky is?”

  “No.” Then Beth said to Ernie, “What’s the matter?”

  “It’s cold out here.” Saliva collected at the back of his throat.

  “Ernie, you on somethin’?” Devine said.

  “Shit! Get your nose outta there!” Scout yelped and backed away. Annie tripped over a crack in the sidewalk.

  The camera fell. Annie reached. It rolled away from her.

  “Ow!” The lens hit her toe before the camera toppled onto its side and scattered bits of plastic onto the sidewalk. “Stupid dog!”

  Ernie leaned forward and heaved. Vomit spilled onto the sidewalk.

  Devine stepped back, “My shoes!”

  Ernie shivered uncontrollably.

  “Ernie!” Beth said as she held him by the shoulders. She shifted a hand to his forehead.

  Ernie heaved.

  “Ernie!” Beth looked around, searching for help.

  Devine picked up bits of the camera, “Think it’ll still work?”

  Annie said, “I’m callin’ an ambulance, lady.”

  Beth said, “I don’t want to leave a message. I want to talk with Detective Lane. Don’t put me on hold. I don’t want to talk with anyone else. I left his pager number at home in my purse. I left in a hurry. I’m in my nightshirt at the Foothills Hospital Emergency and I’m in no mood for any double talk.” She repeated the doctor’s questions in her mind, ‘Is your son depressed? Have his sleeping patterns altered? Is he eating? Has he lost weight? Any problems at home?’ She looked above the phone. The sign read HAVE YOU BEEN SEXUALLY ASSAULTED? Below the sign was a list of numbers.

  “We’re trying to locate him,” the male voice said.

  “Thank you.” Beth leaned forward. Tears rolled off the tip of her nose.

  “All I’m saying is I’m considering it,” Lane said. They sat at the back of the coffee shop. The walls were a forest green.

  Green and white checkered table cloths matched green and white floor tiles. Lane sipped a black Colombian. Harper stirred a latte. The window at the other end of the shop overlooked the Stephen Avenue Mall.

  Harper said, “It goes against everything we’ve been taught.”

  “Yes, everything we’re trained to do.”

  “Not just that. Look what’s happened as a result of it,”

  Harper said.

  “The whole problem is my theory’s based on a maximum of three witnesses. Two are dead. Now, there may only be one person who knows the whole story and he’s not talking. If we threaten him or get tough, he’ll clam up and we’ll end up with less than we’ve got now.”

  “The theory matches the facts.” Harper leaned back in his chair.

  “Then, how do we prove it?”

  “The location of the body seems the obvious place to start. And it’s the location that makes it all so damned complicated. How’d you think of it?”

  “Went to Hawaii when I was a kid. Took a guided tour of Oahu. The Vietnam War was still going on and there was a military cemetery. The army came up with a way to save space when the cemetery started to fill up.” His cell phone rang. “Lane here. She still on the line? Give her my cell number and ask her to call.” Lane looked at Harper. “It’s Beth.”

  The cell phone rang. “Beth?”

  Beth said, “Yes. Ernie’s in emergency. He’s still having flashbacks. He’s not eating. This morning some reporters tried to talk to him and we ended up here.”

  Lane reached into his jacket pocket and pulled out a notebook. “Slow down. Are the doctors with him now?”

  “They’re waiting for the results of some more blood tests. They say it looks like his electrolytes are out of whack. Whatever that means.”

  “Is he going to be admitted?” Lane said.

  “They haven’t decided yet, besides, I don’t think it’s about his blood.”

  You’re wrong there, this is all about blood and relatives, Lane thought. “How can I help?”

  “What do you know? All I know, and I’m not even sure why I know, is that I need to know what my Mother and Ernesto hid from us. You have a pretty good idea. So, what happened to Bob?”

  “I don’t know, exactly.”

  “Can we just get to the point? Either Ernie and I find out what’s happened or I’m afraid he’ll only get worse. They’re talking about some kind of traumatic stress disorder.”

  “What’s it been like for you two at home?” Lane said.

  “He’s not sleeping. Hardly eats anything. It’s worse since my niece moved in,” Beth said.

  “Bob’s daughter?” Lane remembered Lisa handing out her business cards at the funeral.

  “That’s right. But it’s all about to change.”

  “When?”

  “As soon as I can make an airline reservation and call her a cab,” Beth said.

  “Cayman Islands?”

  “Yes.”

  “Can you move?” Lane said.

  “What?”

  “Can you move out of your Mother’s house?”

  “Where would we go?” Beth said.

  “Not very far,” Lane said.

  Thursday, August 10

  CHAPTER 26

  “How’s Randy going to help us if he won’t talk?” Harper said.

  Lane turned the wheel and eased in
to the west entrance of Queen’s Park Cemetery. Harper looked out the side window. The new detective rubbed his palms on beige cotton trousers and shifted his shoulders around inside the jacket. Then, he reached for his belt to adjust his new Glock hand gun.

  “Randy’s smart and it’s hard to predict how he’ll react.” Lane wanted to ease the tension between them.

  The lines at the corners of Harper’s eyes and mouth looked like they’d been stretched tighter. The muscles of his jaw worked under the skin. His mustache twitched.

  I’ve gone too far, Lane thought. Treated him like he’s a rookie.

  “What’s he look like?” Harper said.

  “Over six feet. Lean. Walks like a jock. Has a red hard hat. Usually, he’s around the mausoleum.” They passed the grey concrete building. No sign of Randy. The road descended. Trees sprinkled the car with shade. “There.” Lane pointed at the man kneeling at a grave. Randy’s hands were up to the wrists in loam. Nearby trees stretched at least ten meters high. As they eased closer, they saw a bag of wildflower seeds. Randy bent forward revealing the name on the gravestone.

  “Ernesto’s?” Harper said.

  “Yep.” Lane flicked the toggle switch on the door’s arm rest. His window slid down. He stopped and turned off the engine.

  Randy turned and looked at them. Then he lifted an orange marigold in a plastic pot and turned it upside down. His left hand righted the plant and he set it in a hollow scooped out of the loam. He packed soil around the plant before easing back on his heals, standing and leaning to pick up a watering can. With a graceful back and forth motion, he sprinkled water over the grave. Setting the watering can down, he turned. The knees of his work pants were stained black. Randy brushed at them with his hands, then bent to wipe his palms on the grass over Helen’s grave. “He used to call this rubbing her back. Ernesto liked flowers so much, I thought it would be nice to plant some perennials.”

  Lane opened the Chev’s door and stepped out, “We’ve got a bit of a problem.” He looked past Randy to the A frame building further up the hill.

  “Don’t worry about Tony. If we move away, he’ll just get more suspicious. If we act like we’re having a conversation, he’ll get out the binoculars. He says he can read lips, but he says lots of things that aren’t true.” Randy lifted the hard hat and wiped his forehead.

  Harper stood at the front of the car.

  “This is Detective Harper, my partner.”

  Randy stared for a moment, looked at Lane, then back at Harper. “Read something about you. A few years back you were shot in the leg and another officer saved your life. Lane was never formally recognized.” He smiled at Harper’s obvious discomfort. “I must say this is a surprise.”

  “Surprising things happen,” Lane said, determined not to allow Randy to take control of the conversation this time. “We’re here to deal with the present. Ernie’s depressed and sleep deprived. He’s having trouble eating. Some reporter tried to talk with him this morning and the boy ended up in hospital. Beth thinks it might have something to do with the sexual assault.”

  Randy frowned.

  “Since we haven’t been able to locate Bob Swatsky, Ernie thinks it’s only a matter of time before his Uncle comes back to finish the job.” Lane leaned back against the car.

  “Anybody think to get the kid a shrink?” Randy said.

  Lane watched Randy’s eyes. Let him work it over for a second, Lane thought before he said. “I’ve got a theory about what happened and one living witness who won’t talk. I figure Ernie’s telling the truth. And I’ve got another problem.” He indicated Harper. “My partner thinks hiding the truth only makes the situation worse. Thinks it’s our job to find out what happened and it’s up to the courts to decide after that.

  “I figure this reluctant witness won’t talk no matter what. Either he knows he’ll lose his job because he helped dispose of the body or he figures telling what he knows will hurt someone else. That leaves us all with one big problem. Ernie.

  What do we do about the boy?” Lane looked at the graves. “Ernesto wanted to take care of the boy. Leona wanted to do the same. Beth wants help for her son. She’s afraid she’s going to lose him.”

  Randy said, “He knows all of it?” He looked at Harper.

  “That’s right,” Harper said.

  “You’re big on the public’s right to know?” Randy said to Harper.

  “No, just big on the truth,” Harper said.

  Lane suppressed a smile. Good move, he thought.

  Randy said, “The way I see it, the truth gets lost when ratings and money are involved. The more sensational the story, the bigger the ratings. The truth gets twisted and a kid who’s already in rough shape can become a basket case. Reporters will turn his world upside down.”

  “Lying to protect Ernie hasn’t done him much good so far,” Harper said.

  Randy said, “So, either way, the kid gets hurt. I guess the question really is whether or not you think we have the right to determine how badly he gets hurt.”

  “Beth and Ernie are going to have something to say about this,” Lane said.

  “Then bring them here.” Randy made it sound like a challenge.

  “V Channel News at six.” The anchor stared into the camera. Her shoulder length blonde hair was parted down the middle. Her white blouse was buttoned to the throat. “Reporter Ralph Devine has a story about the perils a journalist faces while getting to the bottom of a story.”

  A head and shoulders shot of Ralph smiling into the camera, “Getting the story can be a little dangerous.”

  Cut to a shot of Scout barking, teeth bared.

  A shot of Beth’s angry face. She said, “You tell her.”

  Cut to Ernie on the ground.

  Cut to Ralph with a broken camera on the hood of a V Channel van. “V Channel refuses to be intimidated by those who would attempt to hide the truth behind the disappearance of Bob Swatsky.”

  The anchor’s eyes narrowed as she turned to face the camera. “Reporter Ralph Devine will continue to dig for the truth behind the disappearance of Bob Swatsky. Swatsky is wanted for questioning by the RCMP and Calgary police. It’s believed he holds the key to a land scam involving an estimated 15 million dollars.”

  Friday, August 11

  CHAPTER 27

  “What do I do about the TV crew parked outside?” Beth used the phone in her kitchen.

  “Your niece gone yet?” Lane said.

  “In the shower. Her taxi’ll be here any minute.”

  “What about Ernie?”

  “Just got up. Watching TV. He’s got a blank look on his face. It scares me. The doctor said he needs rest and regular meals. We have to wait six weeks for an appointment with some specialist. How can we live like this for six weeks?”

  Can he handle what Randy will have to say? Lane thought. “We’ll be there in five minutes. We’ll handle the TV crew.”

  “The car’s all packed. The lawyer told me to lock up the house and leave it. He’ll take care of the rest.”

  “Good.”

  “Just have to give Miguel a call,” Beth said.

  “What?”

  “I’ve left it to last for a reason.”

  “But —,” It’s too important to leave to the last, Lane thought.

  “He won’t be able to talk me out of it now. The decision’s made.” She looked at the wall where the picture of her mother and father had hung. It was packed away in a suitcase in the trunk of the Dodge.

  “I’ll call when we get there,” Lane said.

  “Thanks.” Beth hung up.

  Lisa was singing in the shower. “LEAVIN’ ON A JET PLANE.” The words to the song stopped when she gargled.

  Beth reached into the watch pocket of her jeans, pulled out a folded piece of paper and opened it. She tapped a series of numbers.

  The phone rang twice before an exotic female voice said, “Miguel Rapozo’s Tunisia office.”

  “Connect me with Miguel. Please.” She thought
, It’s way after office hours over there.

  “I’m sorry. Miguel, I mean Mr. Rapozo, is in a meeting. Can I take a message?”

  “It’s a family emergency,” Beth said.

  “DON’T KNOW WHEN I’LL BE BACK AGAIN,” Lisa sang.

  “Another one?” The secretary’s tone was a mixture of skepticism, condescension and sarcasm.

  “That’s correct,” Beth said.

  “A moment.”

  Beth patted her pocket, checking for car keys and the envelope. Inside the envelope were two thousand dollar bills and a note explaining that Lisa’s one-way plane ticket was paid for in cash. That was all. No warning that the lawyer was sending a copy of the will. No hint that the inevitable accusatory phone call from Judy would remain unanswered. By that time Beth and Ernie would be gone. She realized the note might well be their final contact. Beth felt a combination of release and regret. Just Ernie, Scout and Beth. All that was left of her family. And she knew, for the first time, how Ernesto must have felt after the death of his wife.

  “Hello?” Miguel was angry.

  “Miguel.” Beth felt angry at having to beg.

  “Yep.”

  “Ernie’s sick. We’re moving into Nonno’s house. You can reach him there,” Beth said.

  “You sure that’s wise?” Miguel said.

  Sure I’m sure, she thought, Do you think I’d come crawling to you if I wasn’t sure? Instead she said, “Yes.”

  “All right, then.”

  “And we’re going to be needing the van,” Beth said.

  “Up to you,” Miguel said.

  She heard the dismissal in his tone of voice. That had been the way of it. It was up to her to take care of their son, up to her to make the funeral arrangements, up to her to turn a blind eye to his affairs. Always, up to her. “Goodbye,”

  she said.

  She went upstairs to the door of her Mother’s room. The bed was a confused mass of pillows and rumpled sheets. Lisa’s denim purse perched at the foot of the mattress. The purse was open. Pink sanitary napkins and wads of thousand dollar bills lay side by side. What the hell is Lisa doing with all that money? Beth thought.

  “LEAVINNNNN ON A JET PLANE!”

  Beth thought, Why is she waiting for an inheritance when she has all of that money? She shook her head as she moved past the bathroom to Ernie’s door.