Weekends Can Be Murder, page 22
Warfield shrugged. “What can I tell you? Once a cop, always a cop. And you really are a fish out of water here, Holmes.”
Larry gave him a sour look.
“Baker kept saying he just wanted to talk to Farley,” Selena recalled, her expression troubled. “He said it over and over. But that’s not what he meant, was it?”
“Most likely not,” Warfield replied. “It’s possible he’s changed over the years, but I doubt it. When the Baker I knew talked with his hands, people ended up with bruises. His current position as Harald Pyke’s head of security gives him plenty of latitude for that sort of thing. I probably shouldn’t be saying this, but I’m pretty sure the fact that he had control of the crime scene for the hours before she arrived is one of the reasons Brassard is in such a foul mood.”
“But you were the good cop, so if you were to approach her on our behalf, she would be more charitable?” said Norman.
“Perhaps. It would depend on what I was asking for.”
“How about permission to talk with Mrs. Pyke?” Larry suggested. “She has an earlier history than you do with the actor now calling himself Antony Court.”
“There are things not adding up, and he seems to be at the centre of them,” Hugh elaborated. “Anything you or Baker can tell us about him, with or without Mrs. Pyke’s input, would be most helpful.”
“For example,” Norman chimed in, “what exactly was he convicted of?”
Warfield pursed his lips and deked them from side to side. “You did not get this from me,” he said, lowering his voice so that they had to lean forward to hear him. “It was criminal negligence causing death. A fatal accident on a film set.”
“A stunt gone wrong?” murmured Larry.
“You might say that. There was plenty of blame to go around, but somehow every finger ended up pointed at him. And Baker was the one who got him to confess. Need I say more?”
Selena shivered. “He said it was his last case before leaving the force. Now we know why.”
“I’m not a lawyer,” said Blaise, “but under the circumstances, shouldn’t the confession have been thrown out?”
“There were a lot of things wrong with this case, but too many people wanted it quietly settled and gone, including Court. So, he took the rap. Refused to recant his confession. Did seven years without parole.”
“He had to be protecting someone,” Liz declared.
Warfield nodded agreement. “I always suspected it was the lead actress. In fact, I even came up with a theory of the crime in which she was solely to blame. Couldn’t prove it, though, not with Court’s confession on record and her telling a story nobody could poke holes in.”
Selena gasped and dug her fingers into Larry’s forearm. “What Court said about Georgina, remember?” she whispered. “If she weren’t writing about crime…?”
“What kind of film was it, by the way?” Norman inquired.
“I was afraid you’d ask that,” said Warfield. “The kind that no one wants to admit they were ever part of.” Six pairs of eyebrows rose in tandem. “And again, you didn’t hear any of this from me.”
* * *
At 2:45 p.m., two folding tables were brought into the foyer and covered with lacy white cloths. By three o’clock, the tables were laden with trays holding four different kinds of sandwich wraps, three flavours of small juice bottles, an assortment of fresh fruit, and alternating rows of brownies, blondies, and Nanaimo bars for dessert. This was the best that the kitchen staff were able to come up with on short notice, given that they now had nine extra mouths to feed and couldn’t simply order out for pizza when the food was all gone.
On Brassard’s orders, the police were working through their late lunch, which meant hardly anyone else got to relax and enjoy theirs. The Crime Clubbers picnicked in the garden, wolfing down their meals with a minimum of conversation, and then, imbued with renewed purpose and energy, they scattered. Blaise and Norman were off taking another run at Antony Court. Hugh had been recalled for further questioning by the police. And Liz had gone in search of Andrew Baker, to find out what more he could tell them about Court’s past.
Selena and Larry were alone in the gazebo. The hottest part of the day had passed. Selena closed her eyes, grateful for the cool, soothing breeze that now wafted in off the bay and was caressing her skin.
“Do you think Alec’s car crash was really an accident?” she wondered aloud.
“Well, the police obviously suspect otherwise, or they wouldn’t be investigating it.” He paused. “Or are you referring to Liz Sampson’s theory that there are no accidents, and fate governs the universe?”
“We can discuss either possibility. Which would you prefer?”
“Neither, actually.”
Selena opened her eyes and saw him slouching on the bench across from her, half in and half out of shadow, his arms crossed over his chest. His face was expressionless, but his body language was eloquent.
“What’s the matter?” she asked. “Are you feeling left out? Or are things preying on your mind again?”
“A little of both, I guess.” Another pause. “I’ve never liked being on the sidelines. In school, I used to play injured sometimes. Kept it a secret when I was hurt so the coach wouldn’t bench me.”
“You like to stay busy. I get that. But you’re a firefighter, with skills that you hope you won’t have to use. There can’t be that many fires breaking out in Groverton, so what do you do in between them besides working on your pumper trucks?”
“We don’t just sit around. It’s a lot of work to keep ourselves prepared. We check and maintain our equipment. We conduct drills, review procedures, do fire safety awareness and community outreach…”
“…rescue cats from trees?” she teased.
Involuntarily, he smiled. “…and people from all kinds of predicaments, some of them quite bizarre.”
“More bizarre than the one we’re in right now?”
He seemed to come to a decision. “Listen, the day we first met, I asked you whether you believed in fate, and you told me you believed in luck. I’ve had some time to think about it—and some strange experiences in a house that may or may not be haunted—and I’m not so sure anymore that it was luck that brought us together on that back country road.”
“Oh?”
“I’ve been going over what I felt that day, on my way to Windsong. For the first time in months, I knew in my bones that I was doing the right thing. That I was where I was meant to be, when I was meant to be there. Firefighters need that kind of confidence. Losing Tamara had robbed me of mine, and I didn’t know whether I would ever get it back. Nothing anyone did to help me seemed to be making a difference. Nothing I did to try to help myself was making a difference. Then, I got into the car Monday morning to come here. And then I met you.
“Something sent me down that dirt road to find you, and when I saw you, even though there were no outward signs that you were in actual trouble, something told me—urgently insisted, actually—that you needed my help.”
“I do recall thinking that you were the most persistent good Samaritan that I had ever encountered,” she said, her cheeks dimpling.
“I don’t know what it was, but it seemed determined to bring us together.” Leaning in, he lowered his voice and added, “And I just want you to know that even though I’m up to my ass in alligators right now because of it, I’m really glad it did.”
She leaned toward him as well. “Me too,” she told him softly.
“Are you having a moment?” said Baker’s voice beside them.
They leaped apart again, letting out startled syllables.
“Mrs. Sampson ordered me to come and tell you the details of Court’s arrest, but I can wait until later if this isn’t a good time.”
Larry cleared his throat and said matter-of-factly, “No, now is as good a time as any.”
With a sigh, Selena settled back on her bench.
“Okay.” Baker slid onto the seat beside Larry. “From the beginning. We were responding to a 9-1-1 call about a dead body on a film set. When we arrived, we found half a dozen people making a basement-budget X-rated movie inside a barn that had been converted into a sound stage. The producer-slash-director of this epic masterpiece was one Warren Cook, later to be known as Antony Court. Apparently, being choked is supposed to be sexy, and someone had had the bright idea of including that in the movie. But there was no money to hire a stunt coordinator, so they’d improvised. Badly, as it turned out.”
“And Cook took full responsibility for it?” said Larry.
“After the lead actress gave us her statement and it was corroborated by two other cast members, he didn’t really have a choice. Her story was damning.”
Selena’s chin came up. “Warfield told us he suspected she might have orchestrated the whole thing,” she pointed out, “and that you may have bullied him into confessing to a crime he hadn’t committed.”
“Well, if that was true and she was throwing him under the bus, the fact that he stood by his confession after I was removed from the case told me, at least, that under the bus was where he wanted to be.”
“He was protecting her?” said Larry. “Why?”
Baker shrugged philosophically. “Who the hell knows? At the time, I thought they might have been sleeping together. Then I found out that he was gay and she was engaged. Go figure. Anyway, we reviewed some of the film footage as part of our investigation, and this gal really had talent.”
Larry’s eyebrows shot up. “Really!”
“Get your mind out of the gutter, Holmes. I mean, she could act. I would gladly have paid to see her onscreen in an R-rated movie with a decent script. Instead, I got to see her across from me at dinner yesterday evening.”
Selena searched her memory. The only other women on that side of the table had been Lois Drake, who couldn’t deliver a natural-sounding line if her life depended on it, and… “Georgina Rodgers?”
“The one and only. Under a different name, of course.”
“We understand that there were people who wanted the whole mess to be swept under the rug,” Larry said. “Do you happen to know who they were?”
“Not personally. There was pressure on us from higher up the command structure. Things quieted down quickly once the paperwork was completed. The case record was sealed, and everyone associated with the incident faded into the woodwork. Except for Warren Cook, of course. Understandably, he adopted a new identity once he’d finished serving his sentence. He wanted to put the past behind him.”
“The case was sealed?” said Larry. “That generally means a minor was involved.”
“Yep,” Baker replied.
“Well, if it was sealed, should you be telling us all this?” Selena wondered aloud.
“I’m a civilian now. No badge, different rules,” he told her. “Not that I paid much attention to them before. I’m sure Warfield has already filled you in about that.”
“According to his cast members, Court won’t talk about his life before Heron Springs, so I’m assuming he started it up immediately after his release from prison,” Larry said.
“Immediately? No,” Baker said. “To make a clean break from his past, he first had to legally change his name. Which he did. Then, he needed to find and lease the right piece of property, file all the government business forms, nail down financing… All of that would have taken time. But someone must have been helping him, because Heron Springs was up and running in just a few weeks.”
“He found a backer that quickly?” said Selena. “And a venue? He must have begun the process while he was still in prison.”
Baker’s eyes narrowed. “Or maybe the arrangements were made before he went to prison,” he said softly. “Maybe the fresh start was his reward for staying under the bus and keeping everyone else’s ass out of jail. I can’t believe I didn’t think of that before.”
“Huh!” Selena said, as her mind latched onto this possibility and turned it ninety degrees. “Greg Vollmer.”
“What about him?” Larry asked.
“We were told that he bought into Heron Springs two years ago. What if his financial involvement actually began much earlier than that? Like, maybe twelve years ago…?”
“You’re suggesting that he’s the one who—” Baker paused to consider this. “It makes sense,” he allowed. “Head off a major scandal and you end up with some powerful people in your debt. Some might even say, ‘in your pocket’.”
Whatever Vollmer wants, Vollmer gets.
“You said Court’s original name was Warren Cook,” Larry said.
“It was two of them. His full name on the arrest record was Douglas Warren Cook.”
“I don’t suppose you would happen to know what Farley’s full name was…?”
“If you’re looking for a connection between them, Brassard is way ahead of you. I can tell you that Jeff Farley and Antony Court are not related to each other, except as boss and employee,” Baker said. “Sorry, late employee. However, it’s possible they knew each other in prison.”
“What about Court and Will Kemper?” said Larry. “Georgina was afraid that Court might give her up to Brassard, because of what Gareth had done to Will.”
“If Court cared that much about Will,” Selena reasoned, “he would have been furious at the way Gareth treated him. And if Warfield’s theory is correct and Georgina framed Court for that accident years ago—”
“—assuming it was an accident,” Larry interjected.
“—he might be pissed off enough to turn around and do the same thing back to her,” said Baker, obviously intrigued by the thought. “You two make a good team. I wish I could say the same about me and Charlie.”
“What broke you up?” Selena asked, curious.
He shrugged. “I guess we played good cop-bad cop a few times too many. Lost ourselves in the roles.”
“Sergeant Brassard and I just had a very interesting chat,” Hugh said as he stepped into the gazebo and sat down. “Apparently, on a hunch by one of her constables, she’s agreed to take another look at Court’s arrest twelve years ago. Also, the police were able to lift some fingerprints from the pistol in the drawer, as well as from the desk, and have compared them with the ones they took from all of us earlier today. Brassard is now satisfied that no member of the Crime Club ever handled the gun, and that Selena is the only one of us who touched the desk drawer.”
“Does that mean Larry is ruled out as a suspect?” said Selena.
“Not yet,” Hugh told her. “They still have to perform forensic testing on the evidence gathered from the stairs leading to the beach. However, it’s a step in the right direction. And the sergeant is finally willing to concede—to me, at least—that our efforts on her behalf have been productive and helpful to the investigation, and are therefore appreciated. A most promising development, I would say. Now, what have I missed?”
They brought him up to speed.
“Well!” said Hugh, interlacing his fingers and dropping his hands onto his lap. “Once we’ve heard from Blaise and Norman, we’ll know what our next course of action has to be.”
“I wouldn’t mind having a word with Will Kemper,” Larry said.
“And what would you tell him, luv?” Liz asked, sliding onto the bench next to Hugh.
“I’d ask him what he told the police. Then I’d ask him whether it was the truth.”
“The direct approach. I like that,” Norman declared as he and Blaise finally arrived and joined the group inside the gazebo.
“Any luck?” Hugh asked them.
Blaise shook his head. “Court still isn’t talking. He’s apparently locked himself in his room, claiming to be under the weather. Won’t even answer a knock on his door. So, we decided not to waste any more time on him. We went down to the kitchen and chatted up the servers instead.”
“Was Will with them?” Larry asked.
“He was in the drawing room with Brassard, having what seemed to be a civil discussion, if not a pleasant one,” said Blaise. “But Fan and Diane were happy to accept our offer of assistance.”
“We engaged the ladies in conversation and learned some very interesting things,” Norman added archly.
“Such as…?” Liz prompted.
“Such as, Will was the one who persuaded Diane to audition for the company five years ago, and based on some bits of information that he’s let slip since then, she’s pretty sure that Will and Court have known each other much longer than that, maybe even for all of Will’s life. I suspect that if those two aren’t related, they’re the next best thing to it.”
“And there’s more,” said Blaise. “Will Kemper is a very angry young man. What he told Holmes earlier, about Wylde’s critique of his manuscript—it was the truth. It really happened. But he was lying if he told you he’d gotten over it. Apparently, he’s the sort who holds grudges. And he’s been carrying around a big one against Gareth Wylde, for more than a year.”
“Fan described it as ‘poisonous’, and she’s sure there has to be more to it than just one bad review,” Norman elaborated. “I know she’s an actress, but I’m inclined to believe her on this.”
“She also told us that she noticed a change in Will when Farley joined Heron Springs,” Blaise went on. “She wasn’t able to articulate clearly what the difference was, only that his anger didn’t seem to be as close to the surface as before.”
Hugh’s expression became pensive. “Mr. Holmes, I know that you would like to question Will further, and I agree that someone should, but I believe we’d get better results if Selena approached him alone.”
“Are you up for this, luv, after what happened on the bluff?” Liz asked her.
Selena drew a steadying breath and replied, “I can do this.”
Twenty
Will wasn’t anywhere on the first floor. Selena checked the time on her phone and realized where he must be. This late in the afternoon, the remaining three servers had to be in the kitchen, making preparations for dinner. That was when the irony of the situation struck her, hard enough to stop her momentarily in her tracks.
