Authors: David Anderson
fifteen
Lori Singh wasn’t a stomper but if she had been, she would have stomped into Drumm’s office. Since she wasn’t, she walked in normally and contented herself with a big sigh as she sat down. Drumm, who was on his phone, raised an eyebrow at her but continued his conversation. She pulled out her notebook and started reading over her notes while waiting for him to finish his call. He swivelled his chair around so that he could study her while he talked.
Finishing his conversation, Drumm hung up the phone and said, “Sorry about that. How did you get on? Since you didn’t call me, I assume you didn’t find out anything of earthshaking importance?”
Lori filled him in on the little she and McDonald had learned and waited for his reaction. Was he hiding a little grin? Damn it, he was!
Drumm said, “Well, at least we know Bailey was where he said he was. And that he had the opportunity to do it.” Now he was openly grinning. That was a sight she didn’t see often. “What did you make of Detective Dick then? And where is he anyway?”
“You could have warned me!” Lori said.
“Ah… I did, actually,” Drumm reminded her.
Lori had calmed down a bit and now she smiled herself. “So you did. And I don’t know where he went. He said he had business elsewhere and he beetled off.” She stretched in her chair. “He’s a piece of work, isn’t he? Deliberately tried to get under my skin. Does he do that to everybody?”
“Pretty much, yes. Did he call you ‘love’?”
“He did. Many times. Despite being told not to. Also many times.”
“Lori, Dick is a good cop. Give him time, he’ll grow on you. But he
is
a pain. Now, let me fill you in on Daniel Levine.”
Drumm summarized his conversation with Arthur Billinger’s lover.
Lori said, “So he has to be a suspect. Lover’s quarrel, maybe he beats his head in. He would have had plenty of motive, if he felt Billinger was involved with someone else.”
Drumm said, “I had to end the interview since he asked me to leave. But he knows more than he’s saying, that was obvious. We’ll have another go at him soon. But for now, he has to be our chief suspect, what with motive
and
opportunity. Let’s see what else we can dig up on Mr. Levine.”
“How about his reaction? Did it seem genuine?”
Drumm smiled. “Well, he was upset, but at the same time, he was pretty businesslike. He was surprised at first when I told him Billinger was dead, but then he wanted to open up his shop again because he was losing business.” Drumm looked at her. “How upset could he be, if he wants to go back to work?”
Lori said, “Maybe that’s his way of dealing with grief? Or maybe he just needs the money.”
Drumm looked at his watch, and then stood up. “Lori, I have to scoot. I have a lunch date with Emily. She’s opened her own agency, did I tell you? And today I’m getting the grandiose tour. So I’ll catch up with you later.”
Lori watched as Drumm hurried out of the office. She felt a little twinge of jealousy – she had to admit to herself that’s what it was – as she watched him go. She wished
she
was going to lunch with him, and then told herself to settle down. He was taken, and he was too old for her anyway. And that was that.
sixteen
The office had a welcoming receptionist in a bright, freshly painted front room; an autumn bouquet of flowers stood on her desk which overlooked the street outside. The view was obstructed by the dozens of photos of homes for sale in the window, on display for passers-by to inspect.
“It’s very impressive, Emily.” And it was, he had to admit. Emily Graham Real Estate was a busy, well-appointed place.
“Thank you, Nicky.” She smiled gratefully at him, her blue eyes sparkling, and then took his arm. “Let me show you around.”
“There are a lot of people on that board, Em.” Drumm gestured at the magnetic sign hanging on the wall listing the agents and indicating whether or not they were present in the office. “And I see that you’re in.”
“Not as many names as I would like,” she said. Emily led the way down a hallway past a series of doors, most of which were open. Standard office cubicles, he noticed – desk, computer, filing cabinet, potted plant – and a number of them were occupied. “I have fifteen representatives at the moment but I could use a few more.” There was also a larger room at the back with a small conference table, bathed in the afternoon sunshine.
Emily eased open the sliding doors and she and Drumm sat down on the cushioned garden chairs. The patio was surrounded by high stone walls and had an overhead trellis covered with vines.
“This is terrific, Em. I’m pleased for you.” And he was. “Do you use this space out here much?”
“We try to bring clients out here as much as we can but we won’t be able to much longer. It’s getting too cold. But this area is what sold me on the building.”
Drumm studied her. He and Emily didn’t talk much about money so he wasn’t sure of his ground. He decided to risk it. “You have fifteen people working for you, Em? How on earth can you afford to pay them all? Business must be good.”
Emily laughed. “Those names on the board aren’t on the payroll, Nicky, they’re on commission. But Sarah, the deals secretary, and Janice, our receptionist – them I have to pay.” She laughed again. “I’d have to be rich to afford to pay everyone a salary. And rich I definitely am not.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. Drumm watched her twirl her hair in her fingers, the familiar gesture that always made his heart jump. “The reps have a contract with me. They keep sixty percent of the commission, or seventy percent, depends on their experience, and I get the rest. And, of course, they all have to pay me monthly office fees, whether they sell anything or not. It encourages them, shall we say?” She smiled at him.
“Well, but fifteen people selling for you! You’ve got to be doing okay.”
Emily smiled ruefully. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But it’s not nearly enough. If I can get forty reps, then I’ll start to make some money. I’ll get there, but it’s a gradual thing – takes time. And I’ll probably have to open another office.”
Drumm said, “I’m trying to think of that real estate guy…” He snapped his fingers. “Randy Richards! I’ve seen that grinning face of his on signs all over the city. Maybe
he
should come to work for you, Emily. He seems to sell a lot of houses.”
“I’ve thought about it, believe me. If I could get him, and that’s a big “if”, I would have to do a ninety-ten split with him. And he gets the ninety. It would still be worth it, though.” Emily looked at her watch. “Nicky, I know you have to get back. Let’s have our lunch out here. I’ve got something in the fridge. Back in a sec.”
Drumm appreciatively watched her head back in through the patio doors. He admired the way she carried herself, and her shining brown hair which was hanging loose this morning. Even dressed as she was in conservative business attire, she was an attractive woman. It was interesting and a little unsettling to see her in her new role as successful real estate entrepreneur. It would take some getting used to. Then he forced his mind back to the case. Daniel Levine. Arthur Billinger. He wondered just how much the bookstore owner wasn’t telling him.
seventeen
Daniel Levine was telling the truth about being home alone on Monday night, Lori had discovered. She had driven out to his residence, a small older dwelling in a quiet part of the city. Levine wasn’t home, of course, but she found a neighbour who confirmed the bookstore owner’s story.
“He came in at about six o’clock, same as always.” Louise Stephens lived directly across from Levine’s tidy little bungalow and she had a perfect view, as Lori discovered for herself when she parked on Levine’s driveway. Movement in the window of the house across the way attracted her attention and she crossed the street in search of a witness.
Louise Stephens was a woman who appeared to be in her seventies, with a rocking chair arranged so as to look directly out on the road. Nothing that happened on this street would escape her notice. Standing on her front porch, she confirmed that Daniel Levine had come home at his regular time, and she hadn’t seen him go out again.
“What about Mr. Stephens? Did he see anything?”
“My husband’s been dead these past eleven years, Detective. I live alone.”
Lori said, “I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs. Stephens.” She turned and looked briefly across the street. “And what time do you go to bed?”
“Ten thirty, right after the news. And I put earplugs in, so if Daniel went out again, I wouldn’t have heard. But he never goes out that late.”
“But if you’re in bed with earplugs, then you don’t really know if he goes out late at night, do you, Mrs. Stephens?”
“No, I suppose I don’t.”
“How well do you know Mr. Levine?”
“Well enough. I speak to him often. He’s always pleasant. A private man, though.” She paused, and then said, “What is this about, Detective?”
Lori studied Louise Stephens carefully. The woman was thin to the point of anorexia, her grey hair cut short, metal-rimmed glasses covering sharp eyes that were regarding the detective attentively. Lori ignored her question. “What job did you have, Mrs. Stephens, when you were working?”
“I was an executive secretary.”
That explained the woman’s capable, no-nonsense approach. Lori said, “What do you mean, he’s a private man?”
“Let’s talk inside, Detective, if you don’t mind. I find it difficult to stand for too long.”
A few minutes later, seated at a small round table in a dated but scrupulously tidy kitchen, Lori sipped at a cup of tea and repeated her question. “He’s a private man, you said. Can you explain, please?”
The older woman said, “Daniel’s homosexual, Detective. He doesn’t try to hide it, but at the same time, he doesn’t flaunt it. I’ve never seen him in a public display of affection, for example. Never seen him holding hands or kissing, nothing like that.”
“How do you know he’s gay then?”
“I know people, Detective.”
Lori pondered this. “Did you notice if he had a steady partner?”
“Yes, indeed he does. Daniel introduced me to him once. He’s often over to Daniel’s place.”
Lori sipped some more tea. “Do you recall his name, Mrs. Stephens?”
“I do. Art, I believe it was. Arthur. An older man.”
“You asked what this is about. He’s the reason.”
“What do you mean?”
“His name is Arthur Billinger. He was found beaten to death Monday morning.”
Louise Stephens’ hand went to her mouth. “He’s the one? I heard about that on the news.” She was clearly shocked. “Poor Daniel.” She stared at the detective, and then her hand dropped to the table. “Oh! I see. That’s why you’re here asking all these questions. You suspect Daniel.” She looked upset.
Lori spoke quickly. “Not at all. We’re just checking into everything. Routine enquiries, that’s all. I need to know about Mr. Levine’s relationship with Mr. Billinger. Anything you can tell me would be helpful. For example, how they got along. You said you never saw them displaying affection in public. How about the opposite? Ever see them arguing?”
Louise Stephens had been sitting back listening, her hand to her mouth again. Now she leaned forward. “I won’t have it said I’m nosy, Detective Singh. I don’t pry into other people’s business. I keep to myself, but I
am
observant, and I do have a lot of time to sit.”
“Fine. So, did you ever hear them arguing?”
“When I am up to it, I enjoy gardening. One time I did hear loud voices coming from Daniel’s backyard. I think he has a patio just behind his fence.”
“Loud voices? Shouting, you mean? Could you hear what was said? And who was saying it?”
The widow was shaking her head. “Not shouting, no, just loud talk, angry. Daniel was anyway. I couldn’t make out any words and I didn’t want to. I was just outside picking some flowers and it was none of my business. I’m sure Daniel would have been embarrassed if he knew I could hear.”
“And who was the other person? Was it Arthur Billinger?”
“It could have been. It probably was. I never saw him, just heard his voice, much quieter but still angry. But that Art was the only man I ever saw going over there so it stands to reason it was him, doesn’t it?”
Lori said, “It does indeed. When was this, Mrs. Stephens?”
“Oh, maybe a month ago.”
Lori looked at her watch, thanked the older woman for the tea and prepared to leave. She left her card on the table, saying, “If you think of anything else, Mrs. Stephens, please give me a call.”
“Daniel couldn’t have done that to his friend, Detective. He just couldn’t have.” But the worried expression on her thin face said otherwise.
“I’m sure you’re right,” Lori said politely. “Thank you for the tea.”
eighteen
“It’s not much, Nick.” Lori was looking at Drumm doubtfully.
Drumm snorted. “Not much? It’s barely anything, and definitely not enough for an arrest warrant. But it’s something. Certainly enough to get Levine in here and see what else he knows.” Drumm sat back in his chair and put his hands behind his head. He was feeling tired but mellow. The lunch date with Emily had gone well, his stomach was pleasantly full of chilli and his blood sugar level was a healthy 6.4.
“You want me to bring him in then?”
“No, Dick can do it. Where is Dick, anyway?”
“I have no idea. I told you, he buzzed off and I haven’t seen him since. He’s not answering his phone either.”
Drumm shook his head. “Doesn’t matter. He’ll check in eventually. But if we can’t find him in an hour or so, you’ll have to go get Levine. I want him in here tonight.”
Lori stood up and left the office, then immediately poked her head back around the door. “Staff’s coming.”
Drumm swung his legs down from the desk. “Stay then, Lori.”
Staff Sergeant Chappell strode into the office. “Progress, Nick?” He sat down in Lori Singh’s recently vacated chair.
For a fleeting moment, Drumm thought about updating his boss on his lunch date.
It went well
, he might say.
Emily’s office looks prosperous, we didn’t fight and the chilli was tasty.
Mellow he might be, stupid he wasn’t.
“We were just discussing suspects, sir. We don’t have a lot to go on yet.” He updated the Staff Inspector on the conversations with Mike Bailey and Daniel Levine.
“So, a gay basher and a lover. What else?”
“We’re going to bring Levine in for another talk. I think we’ll get Bailey in here too.” Drumm nodded to Singh. “See to that, will you, Lori? We’ll leave Levine for Dick like we said.”
As Lori was leaving, Drumm said, “Where is Detective Dick, Staff, do you know? I’m supposed to have a team here but one member is incognito.”
Chappell looked startled, and then smiled briefly. “He’s doing a little job for me, Nick. He should be back soon. But I think you mean incommunicado, don’t you? Out of touch?”
“Whatever, it’s inconvenient, sir. And Dick is annoying enough as it is.”
Chappell stood up. “He’ll be here. I want to know what Levine has to say. Arguing with the victim – maybe he was jealous? We need to find that out. And he has no alibi. Add to that he’s Billinger’s lover. When a man dies,
cherchez la femme
, right, Nick? Even if, in this case, the
femme
is a man. Keep me posted.” And Chappell left the room.
Drumm thought,
cherchez la femme
? He supposed with a gay man bludgeoned to death, his lover might be considered a woman. Then he pictured Levine in his mind and shook his head. No way.