Carter Chris - The Death Sculptor

‘I got there at around four-thirty or five o’clock,’ Olivia continued. ‘Ally . . .’

‘I got there at around five-fifteen,’ Allison took over.

Hunter waited.

‘We sat around with Dad as we usually do, chatting, or trying to,’ Allison continued. ‘On the weekends Levy usually cooks.’ She nodded at her sister. ‘I sometimes help.’ She shook her head. ‘I’m not very good in the kitchen.’

‘Did you cook on Saturday?’ Hunter asked Olivia.

‘Yes. Then we all ate together.’

‘How about Melinda Wallis, the nurse?’ Garcia asked.

‘Mel always ate with us. She’s a lovely person, very caring.’

‘What time did you leave?’

‘Levy left a couple of minutes before me,’ Allison said. ‘I left around nine o’clock.’

Olivia nodded.

‘Do any of you remember seeing anyone in the street, around your father’s house? Anyone or anything that caught your attention?’

‘I don’t remember seeing anything,’ Allison replied first.

‘Neither do I,’ Olivia agreed.

‘We talked to Amy Dawson this afternoon. She mentioned something about your father having two visitors about three-and-a-half months back. Did your father mention anything about that? Do you know who they were?’

Olivia and Allison looked at each other for a moment.

‘I know that DA Bradley visited Dad at the house when he first fell ill,’ Allison said.

‘Yes, we figured that,’ Garcia commented. ‘But apparently there was someone else.’ He quickly checked his notes. ‘Slim, about six foot tall, same age as your father, brown eyes, does it ring any bells?’

Olivia shook her head.

‘Half of the male prosecutors in the DA’s office could fit that description,’ Allison noted.

‘Your father didn’t mention anything about having someone visit him a few weeks ago?’

‘Not to me,’ Allison said.

‘Me neither,’ Olivia tagged. ‘And that’s strange, because Dad did mention when DA Bradley went over to visit him.’

Hunter returned his notebook to his pocket. ‘Mrs. Dawson also told us that your father said something about making peace with someone, telling someone the truth about something.’

Both women frowned.

‘Do you know anything about that?’

‘Truth about what?’ Allison asked.

Garcia shrugged. ‘That’s what we’d like to find out.’

‘About a case he prosecuted?’

‘We don’t know. That’s all the information we have.’

Silence took over for several seconds.

‘I don’t remember Father saying anything about making peace with anyone,’ Olivia said. ‘Is Amy sure that’s what he said?’

Hunter and Garcia nodded.

Olivia looked at Allison.

‘Dad never said anything to me either.’

There was one more question Hunter wanted to ask them, but he needed to choose his words carefully. He tried to sound casual. ‘Was your father into modern art?’

By the look on their faces, Hunter couldn’t have asked a more surprising question.

‘Like sculptures, for example,’ he added.

Their confused looks intensified.

‘No,’ Olivia said before looking at Allison. Then they both said in unison.

‘Mom was.’

Fourteen

If Hunter’s question had surprised Allison and Olivia, their answer had certainly had the same effect on him.

‘Why do you ask?’ Olivia enquired, her eyes squinting a fraction.

Hunter held her gaze. He had to come up with something good. Neither of Mr. Nicholson’s daughters knew about the sculpture left behind by the killer, and the psychological trauma that that knowledge would bring would haunt them forever.

‘Something we found in your father’s room,’ he replied matter-of-factly. ‘We think it might be a piece of a broken sculpture or something like that.’

‘In my father’s room?’

Hunter nodded. ‘It might’ve been left there on purpose.’

Those words seemed to suck the oxygen out of the room. Both women tensed.

‘Left there by the killer?’ Allison asked.

‘Yes.’

Olivia’s eyes filled up with tears once again.

‘What is it?’ Allison pushed. ‘Can we see it?’

‘The forensics lab has it. They’re running it through a few tests,’ Hunter replied calmly and with conviction. ‘But you said your mother liked sculptures. Modern art sculptures?’ He swiftly steered the subject back to where he wanted it.

‘Yes,’ Olivia replied, wiping a tear from her cheek. ‘I guess you can say that. Mom loved pottery. A hobby she picked up in her later years.’ She indicated a medium-sized vase on the coffee table, holding a bouquet of yellow-and-white flowers. ‘That’s one of hers, and so are the ones in my entrance room.’

Both detectives acknowledged it.

‘But Mom also liked creating sculptures.’ Allison this time. She turned and pointed to a piece sitting on one of the bookshelves. It was about ten inches high and it portrayed two androgynous-looking figures. The first was standing with its legs apart. Both of its arms were stretched out in front of its body pointing down. The second figure, identical in shape to the first one, was directly in front of it, but it looked as if it was falling backward. Its stiff body reclined at forty-five degrees. Its arms also stretched out in front of its body, holding on to the arms of the first figure.

‘Do you mind if we have a look at it?’ Hunter asked.

‘Please do.’

Hunter picked it up and studied the piece for a moment. It was made out of clay, with a wooden base.

‘Trust,’ he whispered.

‘What?’ Garcia’s eyes moved from the piece to Hunter.

‘Trust,’ he said again. ‘I’ll catch you if you fall.’

Olivia and Allison looked at him surprised. ‘That’s exactly right,’ Allison said. ‘Mom made me one just like it. Dad has one too. It means that we could always trust each other. That we’d always be there for each other, no matter what.’

‘It’s a very nice sculpture.’ Hunter placed it back on the shelf.

‘This piece you found in Dad’s room,’ Olivia said. ‘What was it made of?’

‘Some kind of thin metal alloy,’ Hunter lied again. ‘Could be mainly bronze.’

Garcia bit his lip.

‘So it wasn’t from one of Mom’s sculptures. She only used clay.’

‘Did she create many pieces?’

‘Vases – a few. Sculptures – only six, I think.’ Olivia looked at Allison for confirmation. She nodded. ‘As Ally said, she’s got one the same as mine in her apartment. The other four are in Dad’s study.’

Fifteen

Hunter saw no use in taking up any more of Olivia and Allison’s grieving time. But their revelation aroused his curiosity, and before the day was over, he wanted to go back to Derek Nicholson’s house and have a look in the study and at the four other sculptures by Lindsay Nicholson, Derek’s deceased wife.

‘Your poker face in there was impressive,’ Garcia said as they got back into his car. ‘A piece of thin metal left behind by the killer that could’ve come from some sort of sculpture? Inventive. I was starting to believe it. But tell me something, what if their mother had created metal sculptures as well?’

‘Chances were that she wouldn’t have,’ Hunter replied, buckling up.

‘How do you know?’

‘Most sculptors, especially amateur ones, like to stick to the same material for their pieces. Something that they’re comfortable with. The few who move from one substance to another very rarely go from a malleable one like clay to something as hard as metal. It requires a different sculpturing technique.’

Garcia looked at his partner and pulled a surprised face. ‘I never took you for an art buff.’