Kirk Russell - Counterfeit Road

‘They didn’t suspect you and Larry of killing Alan Krueger.’

‘As I said, I don’t believe that.’

‘And I brought the video — which you don’t have to watch because it is graphic — but I’m here with it because I’m hoping when you do watch it, if you do, that it’ll trigger a memory that will help me. It’s the killing with the shooter and you’re not the shooter and I’d say your husband is too tall.’

‘He is six foot three.’

‘So I hear.’

‘OK, Inspector, if it proves once and for all it wasn’t us, let’s watch it. Bring your coffee. I’ll bring the scones. It’ll be like a date. We’ll play it in the den. Do you watch things like this often at your police station?’

‘We don’t get many like this.’ As they walked into the den, Raveneau asked, ‘How long were you married?’

‘Too long. I’ve learned that I tend to recognize things long before I act. My daughter thinks medication could help that. What do you think?’

‘I try to avoid medication.’

‘Do you ever feel like your life is a series of connected failures?’

‘I know what that feels like.’

‘What Larry discovered during our marriage was that he liked being out of town and a long way away in a hotel in Asia where he would have a clean uncomplicated room to come back to and a time zone reason for not being able to call me, not to mention an expense account for dinner and drinking. It was perfect for him.’

‘Who was he working for then?’

‘He was a kind of accountant for our Revenue Service, looking for corporate fraud, that sort of thing. That’s probably in your files.’

Oddly, it wasn’t. She handed him the plate of scones and he handed her the CD.

‘What were you doing for work?’

‘Something very similar but more numbers oriented, and trust me working for Canada’s Revenue Service can’t be any more fun than working for the IRS.’

Raveneau broke off a piece of scone. He took another drink of coffee. She hadn’t asked the question he wondered about so much, why whoever sent this video held on to it for so many years. But she was going to say something more about Govich and Goya. He could feel that coming. Then it did.

‘Your Inspector Govich had a hunch about us that was free-floating. Like the man who is always suspicious of his wife. Now maybe that makes a good investigator, allowing that amorphous feeling to exist without a fact to attach to. When all he could find was the restaurant discrepancy, he let it attach there and Goya went along.’

‘When you found Alan Krueger’s body did you touch it?’

‘Larry did. He wanted to make sure he was dead.’

‘How close did you get?’

‘I had to turn away it was so awful.’

‘Do you remember the position of the body?’

‘No.’

‘Did you see what Larry was doing?’

‘Only when he first leaned over.’

‘Did he remove anything from the body?’

‘Such as?’

‘A wallet to see who the victim was.’

‘Don’t you think we would have said?’

‘Did he remove the wallet?’

‘Goodness.’

‘I’m thinking it would be natural to make sure the man was dead, and possibly look for ID.’

‘Most people would wait for the police, don’t you think?’

‘Most would, but perhaps your ex-husband didn’t and there wasn’t a wallet found on the body.’

‘I don’t remember anyone asking us about a wallet.’

‘Inspector Goya told me they asked you. There are notes in the file saying they did.’

‘Oh, well, I don’t remember.’ She added, ‘How well would you remember twenty-two years later?’

‘It would depend on how much of a mark it made on me.’ He gave her a moment. ‘I think the murder affected you.’

‘Oh, absolutely, it made a wonderful honeymoon. Almost as good as the marriage.’

Raveneau studied her. ‘I can’t picture you forgetting the position of the body?’

‘Does it really make a whit of difference now?’

‘It could. A man called in a few days after the murder and left a message saying he heard shots and that he’d looked at his watch afterward to remember what time he heard them. He called us after you and Larry flew home and left a message saying he put it together after reading about the shooting in the newspaper. He didn’t leave a phone number or contact us again, but he did leave the time he heard the shots. He sounded credible to the inspectors. The time was very close to when you said you found the body, so close that Inspector Govich thought you either saw or heard the shooting.’

‘Do you suppose he believes his wife when she tells him things or is she always a suspect?’

‘That’s one of the reasons Inspector Govich flew to Canada.’

‘He flew to Canada because he got an anonymous call? That’s great.’

‘The time he gave was 3:42. Larry told the inspectors you found the body at 3:45.’

‘I can walk a long way in four minutes, Inspector, and watches didn’t always match. I’m sure you remember that. Nothing like the precious cell phones we have now that let us all keep exactly the same time together. Are you going to ask if he was dead when we got there?’

‘I know he was dead, but I’m still wondering about his body position.’

‘You’re back to that.’

‘I haven’t left it.’

‘I’ve tried to block all of it out. It was a horrible thing to see.’

‘I’m sure it was.’

‘His brains…’

Raveneau nodded and she looked down at the floor. She moved her right hand over on top of her left.

‘He was lying on his back with his legs apart.’

‘When you found him?’

Her voice rose slightly. ‘You have photos. I don’t know what you call them, crime scene photos. We saw the photos taken. Look in your files. Haven’t you seen them?’

‘Let’s watch the video.’

She pushed it in and the monitor lit up.

After the homicide inspector left, Barbara Haney felt light-headed and anxious. She picked up the cordless phone in the kitchen and called her house manager from the den, pulse pounding, fingers drumming as she waited for the house manager to answer. The house manager, a thirty-two year old lawyer named Gail Hawkins, ran the house here and the one in Vail, as well as their New York apartment and the island property. She was well-educated, skilled, and discreet. She worked for them with the rationalization the salary of one hundred eighty thousand dollars a year was about the same as she would earn as a lawyer right now. It was also more than they needed to pay, but Barbara’s husband, Doug, was generous that way. He had a hard start at a career himself.

Gail worked for them but it was understood that the house managing was temporary and even though she might never practice law again, she wasn’t anybody’s servant. She certainly wasn’t. She was much more than an employee. She was her husband’s lover, something she had yet to confront Doug with but was never far from her thoughts and a big contributor to the depression her daughter insisted needed pharmaceuticals. Of course, Cheryl didn’t know anything about the affair.

Barbara called Gail rather than Doug because one side effect of the guilt from the affair was Gail always took her calls and was extremely solicitous and attentive. Ironically, that over-the-top caring courteousness is what made her suspicious in the first place.

‘Gail, I haven’t spoken with Doug yet today and I thought I would check with you first. How’s he feeling?’

‘He’s better. He’s much better. I saw him this morning. He said the fever broke in the night. He wants to go ahead with the dinner. I was just working with the cook. Are you going to be here?’