Alex Barclay - Time of Death

‘But she had to have been writing a book — we found the notes on her desk. And Peter Everett confirmed that she was.

‘Well, I just don’t get it,’ said Ren.

But if it weren’t for the notes, no one would be able to access those files. They were the only thing on plain view on that desk. The book notes were the only route to the patient files.

Later that night, Ren sat on the sofa in her pajamas, surrounded by food wrappers. She changed channels, skipping past soap operas, reality television, pausing on true movies and ending up on a nature channel. Ren didn’t do nature. But what the hell is this?

A crocodile was lying in the sun watching a tiny bird flying in front of him. The crocodile opened its jaws wide. Ren sat up.

‘No, little bird, get away from him. Nooo!’

Ren closed her eyes and sucked in a breath. But there was no sound of flapping wings or piercing screams. Ren slowly opened her eyes. The bird was inside the crocodile’s open jaws.

What?

Ren turned up the volume and heard the deep voice narrate: ‘ So can we call the plover bird brave? ’

‘Yes, we can,’ said Ren.

The narrator continued: ‘ No, because the plover bird knows that he is safe, because one of nature’s unspoken barters was in place before this tiny bird was ever born. This “ crocodile bird ” feeds on the scraps lodged between the crocodile’s teeth. And in return for sparing the bird’s life, the crocodile has house calls from a tiny winged dentist. Truly an extraordinary relationship. ’

Ren turned off the television. And I thought I was nuts.

She went upstairs and started brushing her teeth. This is the way to do it. She thought of the strange dynamic between the bird and the reptile. Nature doesn’t always play fair. Some day, that crocodile would snap its jaws shut. Ren thought of Domenica Val Pando and the minions who did her dirty work. Some of them flew in, blindly trusting. Some of them flapped about, high on danger. And then there was Ren, always aware that those jaws were programmed to snap shut.

Domenica Val Pando worked by exploiting weakness. And once she had leverage, she could get people to do whatever she wanted. She had top accountants, legal experts, ex-military. She had links to border patrol agents, police and Mexican government officials. Domenica bartered. And the deal was always in her favor. She used illegal immigrants who needed money for medical bills or to pay ‘coyotes’ — the guides who would bring their families across the border. Ren knew she had given shelter to a businessman on the run from fraud charges.

At some point in her life, Domenica Val Pando had learned the value of leverage. And from then on, that was her personal drug of choice. Not heroin, not coke, not meth.

Leverage.

Robbie Truax was sitting at his desk with a giant green hat on. Ren paused in the middle of the floor.

This is familiar…

Robbie raised his hands. ‘Happy Ren Bryce Day!’

‘Oh my God, it is March seventeenth,’ said Ren. ‘This is officially the first year I have not known about it until the actual day. I am losing my touch.’

‘Do you want a Leprechaun hat?’

Not on any level. ‘Aw, thank you so much.’ She put it on her desk.

‘We’re all hitting Gaffney’s later.’

‘Gaffney’s is going to be mobbed.’

‘That’s never stopped you before,’ said Robbie.

Ugh. ‘True,’ said Ren. ‘I guess I could use a night of alcohol consumption. I might even wear my hat.’ She sat down at her desk. ‘I was watching this nature show last night, about the plover bird and the crocodile. Did you see it?’ Robbie shook his head, making the green hat wobble. ‘They have this weird symbiosis. The crocodile opens its jaws and lets the plover bird fly in. The plover bird pecks at the food caught in the crocodile’s teeth. It’s like a fly-thru takeaway dentistry thing…that could be fatal.’

‘Only if you’re the bird,’ said Robbie.

‘What is it with you and crocodiles?’ said Colin, looking up. ‘Last time it was pedophiles are like crocodiles because they haven’t changed since the dawn of time…’

Ren turned on him. ‘Listen, you — you’re either in a conversation or you’re not. Just keep your eyes on your frickin’ screen. You can’t just listen in, then look up every now and then like some little old lady from her knitting.’ She addressed Robbie, but spoke a little louder. ‘So there’s symbiosis,’ she said, ‘and anti biosis. Where two things in close proximity — work colleagues for example — have a relationship where one of them does not benefit at all.’

‘Yeah?’ said Colin. ‘I know which is which.’

‘Does the plover bird not get nervous?’ said Robbie.

‘I can think of easier ways of getting food without picking it out of a crocodile’s teeth,’ said Ren. ‘Think about it — every meal would be stressful. It would be like a first date every time.’ She paused. ‘But I guess if you’re already in his mouth, that would take some of the pressure off later…’

Colin looked up.

‘All right, all right,’ said Ren. ‘What’s with you giving me the skank eye? Since when did you get all Holy Mary?’ She paused. She smiled slowly. ‘Oh. My. God. Robbie — Colin Grabien has a lady friend.’

Colin went red.

‘Look at you,’ said Ren.

Colin smiled despite himself.

‘Wow,’ said Ren.

‘That’s great,’ said Robbie.

‘Yes,’ said Ren. ‘I must pick her brain. What is the best way to go from a standing position to upside-down on the pole without losing any of the money stuffed into your g-string?’

‘Yeah? You can ask her tonight,’ said Colin.

‘Ooh,’ said Ren. ‘She’s coming out? I can’t wait. What’s her name? Kitty Miaow-Miaow? SINderella?’

‘Naomi,’ said Colin.

‘Nice,’ said Ren.

‘Now, shut the hell up,’ said Colin.

He has it bad. Ren adjusted her screen and dragged her keyboard closer. ‘No work-out bag!’ she said, turning to Colin. ‘That’s why you haven’t had your work-out bag every morning. You’ve been staying in bed a little longer…’

Colin completely ignored her. She opened Google and typed in Douglas Hammond. She scanned down the news reports. They all seemed to be repeating the same story.

The ninth hit was from a blog and had the headline Second Tragedy Hits Hammond Family.

What? What was the first tragedy?

The main article was on Douglas Hammond’s car accident. The fact that it was a homicide still hadn’t been released. Tragedy number one was detailed underneath in an image of a newspaper article from 1983.

Shock as Woman’s Body Found

in Everdale HomeTragedy struck the small community of Everdale yesterday morning when the body of Mrs Trudie Hammond, 26, was discovered by her husband, Douglas Hammond, 28. Mr Hammond, a lawyer, had left the family home at 8 a.m. but returned later that morning to find his wife brutally slain. Their two-year-old daughter, Mia, was found, unharmed, in her crib. Neighbors expressed shock and sadness at the death of the young mother.

There were two black-and-white photos — one of a perfect street marred by squad cars and crime-scene tape. The other was a head and shoulders shot of Trudie Hammond. She had shoulder-length feathery hair, over-plucked eyebrows and thick mascara on long lashes. She had thin but pretty lips and a warm, friendly smile.

Ren scanned through the piece again. It was a preliminary news report; light on details, simplified, tired phrases.