Alex Barclay - Harm's Reach

‘But how?’ said Eleanor.

‘Well, could she have gotten one of the staff at the ranch to take her?’ said Ren. ‘Or one of the kids?’

‘Maybe one of the staff, even though I don’t think she would,’ said Eleanor. ‘But certainly not one of the kids — I can’t see her condoning that kind of behavior, even if it would benefit her.’

‘I admit it does seem strange, but at the very least, she — and whoever was in the car with her — were likely to have driven by the scene of the shooting.’

‘Oh my goodness, I didn’t think of that,’ said Eleanor.

‘OK,’ said Ren, ‘well I need to speak with Delores again. It’s important.’

‘Yes, of course,’ said Eleanor. ‘She should be in her cabin...’

Ren put down the phone. Robbie had arrived while she had been talking to Eleanor.

‘Cabin Lady was lie-telling!’ she said. ‘Everyone is lie-telling!’

‘What?’ said Robbie.

‘Her name is on a list of witnesses in the Conifer robbery,’ said Ren.

‘I haven’t even looked at those yet,’ said Robbie.

‘She was interviewed by one of Kohler’s guys — she was one of the first to be interviewed — in an age-before-beauty kind of way — so she was gone before we arrived. And after that, we were all about the bandits.’

‘Why would she lie about that?’ said Robbie.

‘And to your purty face,’ said Ren.

‘And yours!’ said Robbie.

‘We need to go and speak with her,’ said Ren. ‘She could have seen anything on that road home. And, apart from the audacious lying — how the hell did she get to the bank and back?’

‘Well, she sure suckered me,’ said Robbie.

‘And to think we were going to sleep on her sofa...’

Ren knocked on Delores’ cabin door and held her badge up to the small window when her face appeared. Delores struggled with the latch before it opened.

‘Come on in,’ she said.

I wonder have you been tipped off by Eleanor.

‘We’re here about a different matter today,’ said Robbie. ‘We just read that you’re on the witness list for the bank robbery in Conifer on May 14th. You never mentioned that.’

‘Did you think that was important?’ she said. Her voice sounded shaky.

‘Well, it could be...’ said Robbie.

‘But... you really only asked me about the car at the ranch,’ said Delores. ‘And I said that I heard voices some time between ten and noon, which is true.’

‘And then you said you went to the chapel...’ said Ren.

‘Yes, and I went to the bank after that,’ said Delores. ‘Were you interested in that timeframe too? You said midday...’

I cannot look at Robbie because I will see the same feelings of idiocy in his eyes.

‘So, how long have you been banking in Wells Fargo in Conifer?’ said Ren.

‘Is this relevant?’ said Delores.

Shit.

‘Well, no,’ said Ren.

‘Because, I’m not your bandit,’ she smiled. ‘And you read my statement. I told the Jefferson County Sheriff’s Office detective everything I saw, which was pretty much nothing, because I dropped straight to the floor... well, as straight as an eighty-year-old woman can.’

How come you have a bank account is what I want to ask you.

‘How did you get to the bank that day?’ said Ren.

‘I hitched a ride with one of the gentlemen from the landscaping firm,’ said Delores. ‘I don’t know his name, but Eleanor will have the details.’

‘And did he bring you back from Conifer?’ said Ren.

‘No, I came back with Burt Kendall... he owns the Auto Sales and Auto Parts store. He’s very good to us at the abbey.’

‘And did you go all the way down Stoney Pass Road?’ said Ren.

‘No,’ said Delores. ‘We took the first right. From what I heard, the young lady’s... death... would have happened further down the road.’

‘That’s correct,’ said Ren. ‘I forgot to ask — on the day of the shooting — did you pass any other cars on the road?’

‘No,’ said Delores.

Everyone turned as one of the postcards slid from the wall, landing picture-side down at Delores’ feet. Ren bent down and picked it up. Delores’ arm shot out. Ren stalled, quickly glancing down, scanning it. It was addressed to Delores Ward at the abbey. All it said was Having the time of our lives! Love, Teddy and Thomas. Ren turned it over. It was a faded, dated image of Huntsville, Texas.

Fun and games and death row.

‘Do you want me to pin it back up?’ said Ren.

Delores nodded. ‘Yes. Gee, that must be twenty years old now... sons of one of the women who used to stay here. Sweet, sweet boys.’

‘It’s nice that they thought of you,’ said Ren.

‘It sure is,’ said Delores. ‘I’m sorry for the confusion I seem to have caused about the day of the robbery. I do recall answering all your questions, but they were all focused on the burning car. On the subject of the robbery, because you said you were working with the Sheriff’s Office, I assumed that all your records were together. And on a day like that, certainly, that it would be even more important that everything was linked in a way that would help you all carry out your investigation in the most convenient and practical way.’

BURN.

Ren and Robbie walked away from the cabin.

‘Fail,’ said Ren.

‘Yes,’ said Robbie.

‘She was a little jumpy about the postcard,’ said Ren. ‘Maybe some of them have contents of a “personal” nature.’

‘Doesn’t bear thinking about,’ said Robbie.

‘What made me laugh,’ said Ren, ‘was her saying that Burt Kendall was good to them. I noticed a big fat Kendall’s sticker along the windscreen of that fresh-from-the-box minibus that the abbey ladies were cruising around in. He had about fifty thousand reasons to be nice to them.’ She paused. ‘Though, they probably buy a bus about once every thirty years.’

Robbie smiled. Ren took out her phone. She had one bar. She Googled Kendall’s. The company appeared across a range of auto and transport sites. She clicked on an article from the Conifer Courier . There was a photo of Evergreen Abbey’s bus and, standing in front of it, Burt Kendall shaking hands with Eleanor Jensen.

‘I stand corrected,’ said Ren. ‘Kendall donated the bus to the abbey. I am a bad person. I am not charitable.’

Her phone beeped with a text from Janine.

Update with Kohler at 3 if you’re free...

Ren showed Robbie the text.

‘Do we qualify as free while our bandits are still on the loose?’ said Robbie.

‘Like, what would Gary do?’ said Ren.

‘Let’s face it — it’s more a question of “What would Ren do?”... despite what Gary would do...’

Janine was winding up a call when Robbie and Ren arrived into her office.

‘Well, that wasn’t great news,’ she said. ‘That was my guy in New York about the Viggi Leinster and Angelo Marianelli case. He says that the detectives who took the original statements were rookies... one of them was shot dead in the line of duty within six months, the other quit the force shortly afterwards. The sergeant in charge of the case was promoted a year later to lieutenant, but was eventually jailed for corruption a few months shy of his retirement.’

‘Noo... that does not sound great,’ said Ren.

‘So, as to why there were not more statements from the fancy guests, it could be down to rookie errors, intimidation, bribes... the list is endless.’

‘And if the Vescovis wanted less hassle with their business,’ said Ren, ‘they may have been very happy to go along with whoever was paying cash for silence.’

‘So,’ said Janine, ‘we know Mr Vescovi is dead and his wife is still alive. One fresh piece of information is that they have a daughter. Her name is Carolina. She would have been eight in 1957. Apparently she went off the rails young, got into alcohol, drugs, disappeared off to Florida... she’s been estranged from the family for years.’