Alex Barclay - Time of Death

Please don’t want to talk to me.

‘Hey,’ said Glenn. ‘Were you out of town?’

‘I was in Texas,’ said Ren. ‘And just off a flight that spent an hour on the runway with no air conditioning.’

‘Ooh,’ said Cliff. ‘Did they not know you were on board?’

‘How’s everything going with the investigation, Glenn?’

‘The taint team was about to go through the files, trying to match A, B and C to their real files, but I got a call to lay off Patient B.’

‘Oh,’ said Ren. ‘Why is that?’

‘Beats me,’ said Glenn. ‘But I have the word of a high-ranking honorable man, so I’m happy with that.’

‘Who?’ said Ren.

‘I can’t reveal that part. But…I went to Judge Hammond with that request. He says sure, no problem. I’m the investigator, he trusts me and it’s one less file for him to go through.’

Ren nodded.

‘But here’s the weird part,’ said Glenn. ‘Hammond comes back to me a few hours later and says, actually, the taint team does need to look at Patient B.’

What? ‘What?’ said Ren.

‘Hammond said that it was important to know the nature of the psychotic episodes at least. And that if the person was law enforcement, it could give them access to firearms, they could manipulate their position of trust, they could snap under the pressure of the job…blah, blah. He said as long as the taint team was looking through the files, pulling Patient B would not amount to too much extra work. Which I guess makes sense.’

No it does not. No. No. No. ‘All right,’ said Ren. ‘Well, there could well be something in there.’

‘Maybe, maybe not, who knows?’ Glenn shrugged. ‘I’m just glad I’m not the one who has to trawl through the crazy talk.’

Ren’s mind started to race. The thought of anyone other than Helen looking through her file was nauseating. But why were ‘psychotic episodes’ so prominent in Patient B’s notes? They weren’t Ren’s most prominent symptom. Now, if paranoia had been mentioned, that would make more sense.

It must be to create drama in the book I’m unconvinced Helen was writing. Everyone loves a psycho. And if it’s linked to someone on the right side of the law, it sounds more glamorous to the less clued-in.

Ren took some deep breaths. It’s OK. It will all work out. The worst-case scenario was that several attorneys she did not know would read her file. They wouldn’t find anything to make her look suspicious. She had problems, but she wasn’t unhinged. Yet. Her ‘psychotic episodes’ weren’t violent. She didn’t suffer from aural delusions.

Sometimes, I just believe things that aren’t real. Like all of the above.

Gary told Ren she could come in to his office, but he sounded tired. Weary.

‘I’m sorry, Gary, I know I’m bothering you a lot, but you have got to call Glenn Buddy again. For some reason, Hammond didn’t buy eliminating me from the taint team’s hit list. They absolutely cannot get access to my file.’

‘Calm down, calm down,’ said Gary. ‘What did Hammond say?’

Ren filled him in.

‘OK, I’ll call Glenn again. I’ll get him to go back to Hammond. How long’s the taint team going to be working on this?’

‘Max another twenty-four hours.’

‘I’m on it,’ said Gary. ‘But, Ren — what’s the worst that can happen? Even if they do read your file, they won’t find anything incriminating. I understand the violation. But…from what you’ve said, you have nothing to worry about. If Hammond is sitting with your file in front of him in the morning, I don’t think the world is going to end.’

I do.

Ren was running an hour late for work the next morning. She had decided to attribute half an hour of it to a fake traffic jam caused by an imaginary truck skidding on dramatized ice. It would take less energy than having to talk about waking up and being hit with a deadening sense of loss.

She called Matt.

‘Matt, remember when I moved and I had to send you some of my stuff to store?’

‘You mean, do I remember the half of my garage that I have to look at daily, but can never make use of?’

‘That would be it,’ said Ren. ‘Would you mind trawling through that to find something for me?’

‘Oh, God. Yes, I do mind. Big time.’

‘Please?’ said Ren. ‘Ugly please?’

‘Ugly please. I haven’t heard that in years.’

‘I haven’t said it in years.’

‘Were we vile children?’ said Matt.

‘No. We had this conversation with Mom at the time. The girl who inspired the phrase may not have been the purtiest horse on the carousel, but it’s not about what’s on the outside. It’s what’s on the inside. And her inside was uhg-ly.’

‘OK, I feel better,’ said Matt. ‘Because my answer really will depend on whether it’s worth the trouble to look for it.’

‘It’s a little notebook-’

‘Right,’ said Matt. ‘So, not only is it the one thing you have millions of, it is also one that could be naked to the human eye.’

‘It’s not that little. You’re such a drama queen. And it’s not in one of the notebook boxes. It’s in with the teddy bears.’

Silence.

‘Oh, for Christ’s sake,’ said Ren. ‘There are only three boxes of them. The notebook will be the object that is hard to the touch.’

‘What does it look like?’

‘It is covered in scratch’n’sniff stickers.’

‘Ooh. Do you think they still smell?’

‘I hope so.’

‘What’s in the notebook?’ said Matt.

‘Stuff.’

Matt let out a breath. ‘Is this about Louis Parry?’

‘How did you know that?’

‘Well, Nancy Drew, let me think…

‘Ha-dee-ha.’

‘But, wow, your Nancy Drew phase lasted way longer than most girls.’

‘All or nothing, Matt. All or nothing. Born to sleuth.’

‘But ugly please don’t tell me you are expecting to find something through the eyes of a nine-year-old.’

Maybe. ‘No…Just — who knows?’

‘Bless your heart. OK. I’ll find it,’ said Matt. ‘Am I allowed to read it?’

‘Lord, no! I have no idea what I may have written about you.’

‘With the passing of the years and all that, I might be OK with reading “Matt is a jerk”.’

‘I was nine, not three,’ said Ren. ‘I’m sure it was like “Matt is inconsequential” or-’

‘The fat cat sat on the Matt…’

‘B’bye.’

‘B’bye Nancy-’

‘Dwew.’

Gary’s office door was open when Ren tried to walk past. She was dressed in a black parka that went down to her ankles…and made a lot of noise when she moved.

‘Get in here,’ said Gary.

Shit.

‘Where were you last night?’

Ren frowned. ‘Why…?’

‘Come here-’

He turned his monitor so she could see. The Denver Post ’s lead story filled the screen: Top Judge Dies in Horror Fire . Under the headline was a photo of Douglas Hammond. Beneath that was a burnt-out car and the caption: The devastating crash in Genesee where Douglas Hammond died late last night.

Oh. My. God. Ren leaned on the desk for support. ‘Oh my God…’

‘Yup,’ said Gary. He was about to click off the story.

‘Wait! Let me read it. What happened?’

‘He went off the road, crashed into a tree on his way back from the city. Instant fireball.’

‘That is so awful…’ Ren scanned through the article. ‘I…it’s so hard to believe.’ Holy shit.

‘Yes,’ said Gary. ‘But it solves your psych-file problem…’

Ren looked at him. ‘You are sick.’