Time of Death

‘So the swipe-card thing,’ said Cliff. ‘Who’s that ruling in or out?’

‘All the employees of the company, past and present. I guess certain clients would have them. Security staff. Maintenance staff…’

‘Did the security system record what time the place was accessed?’ said Cliff.

‘The security guy will check all that on the system,’ said Glenn. ‘He’s not a happy man. And neither is his boss. If they don’t come up with every bit of information we need, they’re in the shit. And if it turns out they didn’t carry out adequate background checks on their staff…’

‘What about the rest of the streets nearby?’ said Ren. ‘Any TV from anywhere else?’

‘We’ll wait and see,’ said Glenn. He glanced at his watch. ‘I need to head back. I’ve got a press conference at three.’

‘Then you better swap ties with me,’ said Cliff.

Glenn glanced down at the grease stain on his. ‘Shit. Thanks.’

‘I’ll leave you guys to it,’ said Ren.

‘Hey’ said Cliff. ‘Did Wheeler have a…significant other?’

I hate that expression. And I should know the answer.

‘Yes,’ said Glenn. ‘She did. Peter Everett.’

‘Who’s he?’ said Ren.

‘The former husband of Lucinda Kerr…’ said Cliff.

‘And who is she?’ said Ren.

‘Socialite – comes from one of Denver’s wealthiest families. The Kerrs own half the city.’

‘How do I not know that?’ said Ren.

‘Probably because you’re not the person who owns the other half,’ said Glenn.

I’m not sure I get that.

‘The Kerrs are low and high profile at the same time,’ said Cliff. ‘People know the name, but don’t know much about them.’

‘And…do we know what kind of guy this Peter Everett is?’ said Ren.

‘Rich in his own right, well respected. Humanitarian type.’ Cliff shrugged. ‘That’s all I know. Oh, and they weren’t together long – six, maybe seven months.’

‘He’s at the station right now,’ said Glenn. ‘Apparently, he’s a wreck.’

I know how he feels.

Ren went back into the office. Robbie was sitting with a stack of files in front of him.

‘It’s probably a bad time,’ he said, patting them. ‘These are the files from Summit County on the Gavino Val Pando bar raid.

‘No – go ahead,’ said Ren.

‘OK, I had a look through them. There were four girls in the bar the night of the raid – two were seventeen years old, two were nineteen. They’re all from Denver. They were on vacation in Breckenridge and took a bus to the Brockton Filly. I spoke to them, got them to take a look at a photo of Gavino – nothing. They didn’t even remember him. But I figured, teenage girls…who knows what they’ll lie about. And right now, who wants to tell Daddy she’s been with a guy whose mom’s on the Most Wanted List. So…I called the Brockton Filly and spoke with Billy Waites.’

You what? Billy Waites, bar owner, confidential informant, former lover…who will now think I was too chickenshit to get in touch with him myself? I told you to contact Sheriff Bob Gage. No one else. Sweet Jesus, Robbie.

Ren’s face kept its composure, but the rest of her was gone.

‘Turns out Mr Waites still has the security tape,’ said Robbie. ‘Because of the raid on his bar that night, he held on to it. And…well, he doesn’t exactly trust the police, so I think he keeps his cameras rolling all the time.’

Hopefully not after hours…

‘Excellent.’ Absolutely fucking fantastic.‘Do you have the tape?’

‘It should arrive tomorrow,’ said Robbie. ‘Do you want me to go through it?’

‘Yes, I will too.’ Let’s just layer on the emotional trauma.

17

Ren was late into work the next morning. She’d managed three hours of sleep, broken twice by nightmares.

‘Gary wants you,’ said Colin, as soon as she walked in.

‘Now?’ Screw that.

‘He said when you came in,’ said Robbie.

‘Not before my coffee.’

‘He’s not that dumb.’

Ren went into Gary’s office with her mug and regretted not having asked if anyone else wanted one. It might have helped their moods. Gary was at his desk. Glenn Buddy turned around from the visitor’s chair.

‘Take a seat,’ said Gary. ‘Glenn stopped by to let us know that your details have come up in connection with the Helen Wheeler investigation.’

Glenn looked surprised that Gary went so quickly to the point. Ren was not.

‘Well, obviously your number came up when we did the phone dumps,’ said Glenn. ‘We know you called her once a week or so and tried her again during the time she was missing. So that’s all fine.’

Of course that’s all fine. Ren glanced at Gary.

‘But that’s not why I’m here,’ said Glenn.

‘OK,’ said Ren. What’s with the strange atmosphere?

‘We called in the head of security at the warehouse,’ said Glenn. ‘He accessed the swipe-card system to see who had gotten in the gate the night the body was dumped and…your details came up – your name, and the address here.’

‘What? Mine? That’s impossible. How would that happen?’

‘I’m asking you,’ said Glenn.

‘You were at the building during the DNC, Ren, right?’ said Gary.

‘Yes.’ She turned to Glenn. ‘I had to go talk to a few protestors that had been taken in for bad behavior. Anyone coming in and out of that location got swipe cards. That’s standard procedure, but that was a year ago,’ said Ren. ‘The card would have been stripped of all access privileges right after the DNC. You said so yourself – the warehouse isn’t even operational.’

Glenn nodded.

‘So maybe if they knew they were closing up right after the convention,’ said Ren, ‘they wouldn’t have bothered purging the database.’

‘That’s correct – they didn’t,’ said Glenn. ‘Your access privileges were still there.’

‘Well, weren’t everyone’s?’ She looked at them.

‘Yes,’ said Glenn, ‘but yours was the only swipe card to be used to access the property in the past nine months.’

‘But that’s bizarre,’ said Ren. ‘I wouldn’t need to access it. There’s nothing there.’

‘Apart from your friend’s dead body’ said Glenn.

‘Are you actually serious?’

‘Ren, where were you on March eleventh?’ said Gary.

Please tell me you are doing this for show. ‘I was…’ Ren paused. ‘The night before the body was found? Let me think.’ She raised her eyes to the ceiling. ‘I was home.’

‘Can you prove that?’ said Glenn.

‘Should I have to?’ Ren looked between both of them. ‘Are you really serious?’

‘I’m not trying to…’ said Glenn. ‘I’m just doing a job, OK? You just need to prove where you were and I can