Chris Carter - The Executioner

‘That’s OK, Tania,’ Hunter reassured her. ‘You’re doing great. Did it sound to you like he could be someone you and Mandy knew from before? A client… someone who visited the agency recently, maybe?’

A new pause. Tania stared at her unsteady hands for a moment before shaking her head. ‘I don’t think so. We haven’t had that many clients come in lately.’

‘Did he come to Reilly’s before going up to the house in Malibu or did Mandy meet him there?’ Garcia enquired.

Tania dabbed her eyes with the paper tissue again. ‘We have a policy of not giving out our property addresses to clients we’ve never met. He came to the agency.’

‘Did you meet him?’

‘No,’ Tania said in a deflated breath. ‘He’d booked the viewing for late afternoon, but called saying he was running an hour late. I asked Mandy if she wanted me to wait with her.’ A new wave of tears started rolling down Tania’s cheeks. ‘But she said that she’d be OK. She told me to come home as it was the weekend.’ She took a deep breath and her voice faltered. ‘I should’ve stayed with her.’

‘There’s nothing you could’ve done, Tania,’ Hunter said, comforting her.

‘Mandy was so petrified of fires,’ Tania said as she stared at the floor again.

Hunter and Garcia exchanged a quick look.

‘How’s that?’ Hunter asked.

Tania took her time. Her bottom lip quivered as she spoke. ‘When she was a young girl, she was badly burned.’

‘Do you know what happened?’

‘Not exactly. Mandy never really talked about it. She just told me that when she was young her dress caught fire. Since then, she developed a terrible phobia of fires. In her house, she doesn’t even have a gas stove or anything. It’s all electric. Even candles made her nervous.’ She paused for a deep breath and then started sobbing. ‘Why…? Why would anyone do something like that to Mandy or to any human being? I don’t understand. You’d have to be a monster to burn someone alive.’ Her breathing now came in short bursts. ‘She must’ve suffered so much.’ Tania broke into a high-pitched hysterical crying, burying her head in her hands.

Hunter moved off the sofa and knelt down in front of her. ‘We’re really sorry for your loss, Tania,’ he said, touching her shoulder. ‘I know how difficult a time this is and we’re very grateful to you for talking to us.’

The front door to the apartment opened and a man in his mid-forties in a decently fitting blue suit with a white shirt and a conservative tie stepped inside. He was Garcia’s height and in good physical shape. The man paused for a second as his eyes quickly took in the scene.

‘Tania, are you OK?’ he asked, dropping his leather briefcase and rushing to her side.

Tania lifted her head. Her eyes were swollen and red. ‘I’m alright, Doug.’

Hunter got to his feet, making way.

‘This is my husband,’ Tania said to Hunter and Garcia. She turned back to Doug. ‘These are detectives from Homicide,’ she explained.

Hunter and Garcia tried introducing themselves, but Doug wasn’t listening.

‘What the hell are you guys doing?’ he demanded. ‘Can’t you see what she’s going through?’

‘We’re very sorry, Mr. Riggs,’ Hunter said.

‘It’s OK, Doug,’ Tania intervened. ‘They’re simply doing their job and I wanna help if I can.’

‘But you don’t know anything. You said you never saw the man.’

‘Any kind of information is always helpful, Mr. Riggs,’ Hunter said, taking a step back. ‘Tania was able to give us some background on Amanda Reilly, and that’ll certainly help us with the investigation.’

Doug cradled Tania in his arms. ‘I should’ve stayed home with you today. You’re in no condition to be by yourself, and certainly in no condition to be interviewed by the police.’ He shot Hunter and Garcia a furious look.

‘I’m not handicapped, Doug. I’m just upset.’

‘You were very helpful, Tania,’ Hunter said before nodding at Garcia. ‘We have to be going anyway. Once again, we’re sorry for your loss, but if I could ask you just a couple more questions.’

Tania nodded, despite Doug’s irritation.

‘Mandy’s bag is still missing. We’d like to have a look in her house. Do you know if she kept a spare key in the office?’

Tania wiped her tears with the heels of her hands and looked at Doug for an instant. ‘Yes. In her bottom drawer. She was always locking herself outside her house, so she started keeping a key in the office, just in case.’

Hunter nodded. ‘We’ll check it. One last thing. Was Mandy Catholic?’

Tania shook her head nervously. ‘She wasn’t religious at all. I don’t think she even believed in God. Why?’

‘Just wondering.’ Hunter gave her a comforting smile and placed a card on the coffee table. ‘If you remember anything you think might be important, no matter how small, please give me a call at any time.’

Tania’s eyes rested on the card for several seconds. ‘I’m sorry I couldn’t be more helpful.’

Hunter and Garcia got off the sofa and walked towards the door.

‘Wait!’ Tania suddenly called. ‘He called her Mandy.’

‘What do you mean?’ Hunter asked.

‘On the phone, when he called to let us know he’d be late for his viewing, after he said hello to me, he said – can I speak to Mandy? ’

Claire Anderson had wanted to be a reporter for as long as she could remember. Born in Hailey, Idaho, she was a country girl with a big city woman mentality. Her parents still lived in Hailey, with thick accents and country ways. In school, Claire had been an exceptional student, but her size made her unpopular with boys. She started gaining weight very early, fuelled by her mother’s extraordinary talent for baking the most amazing cakes. By the time she finished high school she’d become positively tubby.

Her excellent grades gave her a wide choice of universities. She picked Idaho State University in Boise simply because she liked being close to home. Hailey was home, but the big city became her playpen, the place where she first experienced drugs and decided they weren’t for her. The place where she lost her virginity to someone she only saw twice. And the place where she decided she didn’t want to be overweight anymore. With irrefutable determination, she changed her eating habits and jogged herself down to a hundred and eighteen pounds. Her transformation was astounding, and she went from ‘unpopular’ to the girl everyone wanted to sleep with.

Upon graduating top of her class, Claire was offered a job with the Idaho Statesman , the highest-circulation newspaper in Boise. Through the paper she met Noah Jones, a freelance reporter from Los Angeles, who told her he could put in a good word for her with some of his friends at the LA Times . She had to sleep with him for that, but Claire considered it a small price to pay to join one of the biggest newspapers in the USA.

Claire sat perched on the edge of Matt Pasquier’s desk. Pasquier was a legend when it came to crime reporting in Los Angeles. He was old school, condescending, a heavy drinker and thought nothing of journalism degrees, but he was very smart and he liked Claire Anderson. She had something he hadn’t seen in years – raw ambition to be a good reporter. She wasn’t doing it for the money.

‘OK, what’s the problem?’ Pasquier let go of his cup of coffee and leaned back in his chair.

‘I’m doing something wrong,’ she said in a half-defeated voice. ‘I can’t get an angle on this story and now the TVs are getting involved.’

‘I take it you met Robert Hunter. I mean, properly met him.’

Claire nodded. ‘He blew me off.’