Authors: L. R. Wright

Fall from Grace (31 page)

BOOK: Fall from Grace

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Now all the adults were in the living room, having a cup of tea. Though Warren would have preferred a beer.

“Is Herman dead this time?” said Warren's dad.

Everybody looked at him in horror. Everybody but Annabelle, who laughed. It sounded a tad hysterical, though, to Warren.

“No, Dad,” she said. “He's pretty tough, I guess.”

“Bobby'll be going back to jail I guess,” said Warren's mom.

“It's highly likely,” said Wanda dryly.

Warren looked around at his brittle, wary family. Maybe they could do it, he thought. Leave the past in the past.

But it wasn't going to be easy.

He didn't think he, for one, was going to manage it.

“I always said he'd come to no good,” said Warren's mom, and he winced.

“There wereâextenuating circumstances,” said Annabelle carefully. Warren knew she didn't want to say too much in front of the kids.

“You can come live with us, you know, Annabelle,” said their dad. “We've got lots of room.” That was certainly true enough, thought Warren. But Annabelle said no thanks.

“I'll be getting me a job,” she said firmly.

“That would be good,” said Arnold. “Just until Dad's better.”

Nobody knew what to say to that.

Annabelle folded him into her arms. His head was hot and damp. She kissed his hair, humming.

Chapter 50

“H
E WAS GOIN' after her, man; what was I s'posed to do, let him whack her?” He was sprawled on a chair tilted back against the wall, his thumbs hooked over the edges of the seat. His legs were stretched out in front of him. He wore a denim shirt with the sleeves rolled up, jeans and sneakers. No watch, no rings, no belt. “Ask her. She'll tell you.”

“I already asked her.”

“So?”

“You're right. She told me.”

“Okay then.” Ransome let the chair fall forward onto its front legs. “I'm outta here.”

“There's something else,” said Alberg. “There's Steven Grayson.”

Ransome continued to look at him, expressionless. “I hear he fell off a cliff.”

“Yeah.” Alberg sat on the edge of the table. “I thought you might have seen it happen.”

Ransome lifted his right hand, pointing to himself, looking amazed. “Who, me?”

“Yeah,” says Alberg. “You were over there, right?” Ransome didn't respond. “On Thormanby. Camping.”

Bobby looked around the interview room.

“There's some people over there who've identified your picture,” said Alberg.

“So why ask?”

“You left in kind of a hurry, too, I guess. There's a tent, some camping gear, apparently abandoned.”

“Yeah, well, I'm an impulsive guy.” He moved restlessly in the chair. “Look, I'd like to get going, if it's all the same to you.”

“That's right, you're on your way out of town, aren't you? You going back to Vancouver?”

“I dunno, man. Haven't thought it out yet, where I'll go.”

“Did you have a job there?”

“Yeah I had a job there.”

“What kind of a job?”

“A bunch of jobs, man, a bunch of piss-ant jobs, what's it to you?”

“He went to Thormanby to meet somebody.”

“Yeah? Who says?”

“His mother says.”

Bobby looked skeptical, but uneasy.

“See, this is what I know, Bobby.” Alberg stood, and leaned against the wall next to Bobby's chair. “He kept phoning you. And you kept hanging up on him. And then one day you gave in, and said you'd see him. So he got all this money out of the bank and hiked up to the top of the cliff at Buccaneer Bay to meet you. But I guess you decided you didn't want his money. I guess you figured it'd be more satisfying to kill him.”

“Don't be a fuckin' idiot,” said Bobby. “I grabbed him, like thisâ”

He stood, suddenly, reaching for Alberg's shoulders. Alberg's hands shot up and out, knocking Ransome's arms down. They stood face to face, very close to each other. Charisma, shit, thought Alberg, staring him down.

Bobby grinned. “You're pretty fast,” he said. “For an older guy.”

“Sit down,” said Alberg.

Bobby hesitated, then slumped back into the chair.

“So you grabbed him,” said Alberg. “Then what?”

“I grabbed him by the shoulders,” said Bobby dully. “I took his goddamn camera and heaved it into the fuckin' forest and then I grabbed him and I was gonna beat the shit out of him. I shoved himâfuck, man, I
shoved
the guy, right? I
shoved
him, is all. If it hadn't been for the fuckin' cliffâ”

“So what do you think?” said Sokolowski.

“I think he's telling the truth.” Alberg rubbed his temples wearily with the heels of his hands. “We better have a look for the camera. Where he says he threw it, it's pretty dense brush in there. It's possible nobody's found it.”

“Soâwhat're you saying?”

“If there's anything in the camera to show provocation, maybe Bobby's luck is changing. With a good lawyer, he ought to be able to get away with manslaughter.” Alberg stood up and looked around for his reading glasses. “It's time to go home.”

“Staff,” said Sokolowski. “I gotta ask you.”

“I'm coming in to do them on Sunday. Really. Honestly. Cross my heart.”

“Good,” said the sergeant, relieved.

Chapter 51

“T
HIS CLEARING IS where the drug deal happened,” said Alberg the next morning, pointing at a photograph.

“Uh-huh,” said Diana, chin on her hand.

Alberg hesitated. How the hell had Cassandra known it was a teenage makeout place? She was thirty years old when she moved to Sechelt.

“This is Hetty Willis, Bobby Ransome's aunt,” he went on, pointing to another picture. “And here's Bobby with Wanda.”

Diana wasn't giving this her complete attention, he thought, irritated. Everybody always complained about how he never talked about his work. Now here he was talking about it, and his daughter wasn't even listening.

“I'm buggering off out of here,” he said, “in a little while.”

“Who's this?” asked Diana.

“That's Bobby Ransome's father. He used to manage the Petro-Canada place.”

The phone rang. It was Cassandra, wishing him a happy birthday. “Oh, thanks,” said Alberg, trying to sound like he'd forgotten it was his birthday. Which Diana certainly had. And Janey. And he hadn't heard from Maura, either.

“Have you been outside yet?”

“Nope.” He'd gotten cards from Isabella, and from Sid and Elsie, and Sanducci had given him one, too. And so had his parents. But not a word from his children, or his ex-wife who was supposed to still be so fond of him.

“When you've been outside, call me,” said Cassandra, and hung up.

“What the hell was that all about?” Alberg muttered. “Now Gillingham,” he said, picking up the doctor's picture, “he swears he didn't have anything to do with anything. He did, of course,” he said confidently to Diana. “He just doesn't see it yet. Someday he'll remember. And this one,” he said, tossing Gillingham away and picking up Annabelle, “she had a child with Bobby.” He scrutinized the photograph.

“Bobby Bobby Bobby,” said Diana. “I guess this photographer guy was in love with him, was he?”

Alberg looked at her, amazed.

“Pop,” said Diana. She got up and went to the living room window.

“Yeah? What?”

“Come over here,” she said.

“What for?” said Alberg. “What is it?” He joined her and peered outside. “Jesus Christ. What are those?”

“There's fifty of them,” said Diana.

“They're pink, for God's sake.”

“They're a present,” said Diana. “From Cassandra and me.”

“They're flamingos. They're plastic flamingos,” said Alberg, aghast.

“We're making you dinner, too,” said Diana. “But this is your main present.” She kissed his cheek. “Happy birthday, Pop.”

AUTHOR'S NOTE

There is a Sunshine Coast, and its towns and villages are called by the names used in this book. But all the rest is fiction. The events and the characters are products of the author's imagination, and geographical and other liberties have been taken in the depiction of the town of Sechelt.

This book is for James Cardwellâ¦
and for his widow, Jewel

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The author wishes to acknowledge the continuing advice, assistance and support of her family and friends, with particular thanks to Johnâfacilitator; and to Elaine Ferbey, Katey Wright and Brian Appleby for sharing their specialized knowledge; any inaccuracies are her own.

You are reading a book in the Felony & Mayhem “Foreign” category. These books may be offered in translation or may originally have been written in English, but they will always feature an intricately observed, richly atmospheric setting in a part of the world that is neither England nor the U.S.A. If you enjoy this book, you may well like other “Foreign” titles from Felony & Mayhem Press.

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