Authors: Anne Emery
“Podgis.”
“Yes. And, as you might expect, we say Podgis did not even know Jordyn, so what would they have been doing together at that time of night? What I’m hoping to do is talk with some of the people Jordyn knew. To see how likely it would be that she would go off with a man she didn’t know, or barely knew, if you see what I mean. But before we get to that, what about you? What do you do?”
“I’m taking my science degree at Dalhousie.”
“How’s it going for you?”
“Great. A lot of work but I love it.”
“Glad to hear it. Are you going with anyone these days, or . . .”
“I’ve just started dating a girl in my class at Dal.”
“All right. So, could you go back a few years and tell me how you met Jordyn and how long you went out together?”
“We went together for two years in high school, on and off. Grades ten and eleven.”
“You both attended Halifax West?”
“Yes. She lived in Fairview and I lived in Clayton Park.”
“What was she like?”
“Maybe you’re asking the wrong guy.”
“But you went with her for two years!”
“Two years in which I loved her and dreamed of marrying her when we were older. It took me a while to realize I didn’t know her. At all.”
Drew was calm and matter-of-fact, but there was an element of bitterness that he could not quite hide.
“Tell me what you mean.”
“This should tell you something. It should have told
me
something, but you know how it is. Young and foolish, and not too clued in about the ways of the world when you’re a guy in grade ten. I made a big elaborate plan to take her out skating on the frog pond. Do you know where that is?”
“Yeah, out on Purcell’s Cove Road.”
“I love to skate outdoors, and I figured she would too. I didn’t have my driver’s licence yet, but my dad said he’d drive us out there, and come back and get us later. And my mum would make a picnic with hot chocolate in Thermos bottles. And put everything in a special container. And she was going to lend me one of the quilts she made, so we could huddle under it if we got cold before Dad came back. And I went out and bought black and white film for my camera, because I love those old-fashioned pictures. I figured Jordyn would like pictures of herself skating. And then we’d come back and watch a movie at my place.”
“How did it go?”
“It didn’t. She laughed at me and made fun of me about it. ‘Go in the car with your
dad
? Because you can’t drive? Are you crazy? What kind of a date is that? And your mum is making us hot chocolate, like we’re little kids or something? I’d never live it down! And we have to hang around outside in the cold? Wow! Big date!’ She went on and on. It was painful!”
“It’s painful even hearing about it, Drew. It sounded like a wonderful day you had planned for her. Why did you ever go near her again?”
“I figured it was me that was wrong. I didn’t know what girls liked. I was a loser. So I should smarten up and think of more grown-up things to do on a date. I spent the next day at school kind of following her around like a puppy. And I saw her giggling and whispering about something with a couple of her friends. Which could have been anything, so I didn’t think much of it till Cole Pilcher came strutting down the corridor with his hangers-on. This guy was bad news. Everybody knew it. And he said something really rude, really gross, to Jordyn. And instead of looking offended or even scared, she laughed and looked at her friends, and this set off another bout of the giggles. Even as naive as I was then, I caught on that she liked this guy. He was notorious! He had a juvenile record, he’d got at least one girl pregnant, and he treated girls like shit, and blabbed about everything he did with them.
“But then Jordyn was all sweet and lovey-dovey with me later, so we started going out steadily. Till she dumped me for another jerk. I forget his name. She went with him for a while. But he stood her up for our high school dance, so she went with her girlfriends and saw Cole Pilcher there with a girl from another school. Jordyn caused a big scene, screaming and crying and shoving the new girl out of the way. Then Cole grabbed her by the arm, dragged her out of the gym and outside. I didn’t see any of this, but I heard about it from friends who saw her after. She had a bruise on her neck and a cut lip. Didn’t call the police, though. Spent all her time on the phone begging Cole to come back to her. He told her to get lost, but she persisted.”
“I see.”
“So you’re probably wondering how Jordyn and I ended up back together again!”
“Well . . .”
“She showed up at my house one night and said she wanted to talk. So we went out for a walk, and she said she was sorry about the way she had been acting. Those other guys were nothing to her, just an experiment. She felt she had grown up a lot as a result of this bad period in her life, and she now knew those fellows for what they were. And it all made her appreciate me more than ever. That I was the type of guy any girl would be lucky to have. And all that. So we started going out again. And things were fine for quite a while. Then I heard rumours that she had been seeing Brandon Toth. He ended up in prison because he raped a girl! But even before he did that, anyone with eyes could see there was something wrong with him.”
The tape of the Pike Podgis show about women who date violent men flashed through Monty’s mind like a fast-forward perp walk of murder suspects. Though at this distance in time, the probability that one of Jordyn’s cast of perps decided to kill her was admittedly low. Still, it opened up a new window on Jordyn as victim.
“Well, that was enough for me,” Drew said. “I broke up with Jordyn once and for all. About time, eh? She made a big drama out of it even though she didn’t care a fig about me. It was all so pathetic, on my part as well as hers.”
“Drew, somebody told me that Jordyn was acquainted with Ignatius Boyle. You know who I mean?”
It was clear from Drew’s reaction that this was unexpected. “The homeless guy they’re calling a saint. Got knocked out and started speaking French. How would he have known Jordyn?”
“I don’t know, just something I heard.”
“You’re not saying he . . . no. I’ve seen him hanging around on Spring Garden Road. Jordyn loved to shop, so she’d be downtown quite a bit. She might have seen him on the street. But she would have ignored him. Having a kind word for the poor and homeless would not have been Jordyn’s style. So it wouldn’t make any sense for someone to say she knew him. As far as I’m aware, anyway.”
“Maybe my information is wrong.”
“Or maybe I’m wrong. I don’t have a very good record when it comes to Jordyn.”
Monty would not have been doing his job if he didn’t ask the next question: “Where were you on the night of September twenty-third?”
He expected Drew to be offended, but he laughed. “If I didn’t kill her back in grade eleven when I gave a shit, I sure didn’t kill her last fall. She was bad news, but she was old news. I should feel at least some sorrow about the fact that she was murdered. I know I should. But I don’t. I can’t help it. I can believe she pissed off the wrong kind of guy. Maybe even Podgis! Though that’s not what you want to hear. But honestly, if you ask me whether she would have taken up with him all of a sudden, late at night, I couldn’t say no. Especially if there was TV involved. Maybe he told her he’d get her on his show. That would have been enough. Her dream in life was to become a model or a TV star. She never did anything about it, as far as I know. Her main course of study seemed to be noting every detail of what other girls wore, or how they did their makeup or their hair, and making snarky remarks about them and constantly trying to outdo them. Apart from that, and sending photos of herself to God-knows-what modelling agency or TV show, she didn’t do much to pursue her ambitions. But I didn’t follow her career after high school. Podgis? That would be pretty low. But she’d been in worse company in her day.”
“Did you tell the police about these other guys?”
Drew hesitated, then said, “No.”
“How come?”
“Because I was afraid they might think I was jealous about all the times she cheated on me. They might try to pin the murder on me.”
The poor lamb
, Monty thought;
I’m more likely than the police to try to do that
.
Chapter 15
Brennan
On Monday, January 25, 1993, Nick Stockall and Brennan Burke, dressed in hooded jackets, jeans, sneakers, and leather gloves, loitered in the late-afternoon shadows outside the apartment building in Dartmouth where Pike Podgis had taken up residence until his legal difficulties were resolved one way or the other. It had taken Brennan a few days to set up, but here he was at Podgis’s apartment building, about to break in; he was about to create another crime scene. The building had seen better days. Presumably. Some windows were taped up or supplemented by sheets of plastic, and the grounds were littered with candy wrappers and cigarette butts. Podgis had told an interviewer that he had just bought a new luxury condo in Toronto and was now forced to make monthly payments for lodgings in Nova Scotia. Monty Collins had given voice to the suspicion that Podgis for some reason actually wanted a downmarket living experience. For journalistic reasons perhaps. Or maybe to enhance his reputation as the victim of a miscarriage of justice. Well, if so, he had found what he was looking for in this place.
Stockall was a convicted housebreaker Brennan had met in his prison ministry; he was small and wiry, with a ratty-looking moustache and small, close-set eyes. He was nerved up, bouncing up and down on his toes, anxious for some action. Or maybe in need of a fix. Brennan tried to picture what he himself must look like, skulking around on someone else’s private property with his young sidekick. He did not want to think about whether he looked more sinister than idiotic, or the other way around, and he had to overcome the temptation to bolt and abandon the whole ill-conceived mission. The consequences of being caught like this were unimaginable. He was breaking the law and crossing an ethical barrier in conscripting young Stockall as his accomplice.
“Nick, you have my word that if this goes awry . . .”
“If it what?”
“If this plan goes south, I’ll take full responsibility. Your name won’t escape my lips no matter what happens. This is important, and I can’t see any other way to make sure this guy goes down for the girl’s murder. You understand.”
“I don’t give a fuck about Podgis. I say we stick it to him. I’d like to see him try to kill a
guy
. No way. So he kills a girl. She probably told him to go fuck himself. Put him in Dorchester; he starts running his mouth up there, he won’t last a week.”
“Thanks, Nick. I appreciate your help.” Brennan peered at the building. “He should be going out soon. I know he has an appointment.” With his lawyer. Monty had mentioned a Monday afternoon appointment.
Brennan looked about him and wondered whether he and Stockall should be doing something. Throwing a ball around would hardly do the trick, given that it would call attention to them rather than make them blend in. But maybe they should light up cigarettes, anything to look half normal. Wait! There he was. Podgis was leaving the building just as a taxi pulled up. He must have been watching for it from inside. When the car pulled away, Brennan said, “All right. Let’s go.”
There was no security, and the door to the lobby of the building was not locked during the day. Brennan had done some research and reconnaissance the day before, feeling as foolish then as he did now. He approached the building in what he hoped was a casual manner, with Stockall at his side. They headed for the stairs in preference to the elevator and nearly walked over an elderly woman in their hurry to get on the steps and out of sight. Brennan excused himself, natural manners kicking in where silence would have been advised. The woman looked up at him, frowning. Was there something in his voice that made him an object of suspicion? Someone out of place here? What was he thinking? Everything about his appearance and that of his co-conspirator was suspect. He tried to put it out of his mind as he got to the staircase and took the steps two at a time to reach his destination. The sooner this was over, the better.
Podgis’s apartment was number twenty-four, halfway down the corridor. Brennan looked around from under his hood and was strongly tempted to take it off. A gentleman removes his hat upon going indoors. He could not remember the reason, but it had been drilled into him since childhood. But a man about to break into the dwelling place of another was no gentleman. They drew up in front of the door, and once again Brennan had to wrestle down the temptation to run and abandon the whole crazy scheme.
But Stockall was already working the lock with some sort of pick and was jiggling it around. Brennan heard a creak of the floor and whipped around in the direction of the sound. Nothing. Why was he so fearful here, when he had never shown fear in the face of threats from rough characters in the streets of Dublin, New York, or Rome? He had been a scrapper when necessary in his younger years, and even in later life he was not easily intimidated. Then he got it. It wasn’t fear at all; it was shame. Because he was doing something wrong, not just illegal but wrong. Breaking into another man’s home. Wait, though; he was doing wrong in order to accomplish a greater good. He listened to himself and didn’t like it; that kind of reasoning had been used to justify everything from state terror to . . . He shut down the lecture on moral philosophy and put his mind to the task at hand, right or wrong. He had a major threshold to cross, from law-abiding citizen and — Christ! He wasn’t a citizen of this country. If he got caught, would he be deported? What had he been thinking, out of his mind with drink and plotting this criminal enterprise?
Brennan could not go through with it. “Nick,” he said
sotto voce
, “forget about it. This is a wacky idea, and it’s too — ”
“Hey!” Brennan heard a shout coming from the staircase, and he willed himself to stay calm. He looked around — he could not stop himself — and saw a couple of young fellows bounding down the stairs. He turned his head away. One of the guys must have shouted to his companion. They were gone.