That was one thing they would all like to have seen.
“Chalk one up to the good guys,” Wheeler proclaimed.
“Not bad for your record, given you’ve been in the force for what, three years?”
“Four. I spent a year in a small country station, near where I grew up, before moving to the city.”
“A country boy,” Kate smiled. “I’m from the country too. Hey, didn’t you transfer from the dog squad?”
Anya glanced at Kate. It was the most small talk she’d ever heard her initiate. Her conversations always had a point to them. She suspected Wheeler was heading for a reprimand over something he’d done, or failed to do.
“Uh-huh.”
The van hit a pothole and Anya grabbed the armrest on her seat. The surveillance equipment didn’t shift, with everything locked into place. Kate didn’t seem to notice the lurch.
“Did you ever work with a guy called Bomber? He was a bit of a rogue and liked to bend the rules a bit, but he always got a good result, if I remember.”
With no windows or other distractions, maybe Kate was in the mood to talk.
“Yeah, he believed in the Scouts’ motto of always being prepared. He saved my skin once.”
“Just wish we could have saved Giverny Hart. When I think how cut-up her father was, it was a good thing he had someone to talk to.”
“He worked on a farm before he joined the army, so we kind of clicked, I guess.” Wheeler broke eye contact with his superior officer. “Poor bastard. When he saw what the Harbourns did to Sophie…”
Anya flashed back to the night at Pascoe’s house. Hart had mentioned the blood on the walls in Rachel’s room when he described the father having to clean it off. Someone had shown him the crime scene photos or told him the intimate details.
“Is there anything you want to tell us about that?” Kate asked.
Wheeler was hiding something. His eyes darted around the van.
“No.”
“Shaun, how do you explain the fact your fingerprints were on the magazine he carried?”
Anya’s heart raced. Wheeler sat, frozen, then rubbed his hand vigorously across his closed eyelids before meeting Kate’s piercing gaze.
“He said he j-j-just wanted to confront the Harbourns. I told him it was suicide to approach them himself, unarmed, so I g-gave him the.22 for his own protection. It was a set-up gun that Bomber gave me last year. His idea of being p-p-p-prepared.”
“Where did it come from?”
“Don’t know for sure, but it was found along with a shit-load of weapons on a raid of some d-d-drug den. Officially, they were destroyed, but some were kept-f-f-f-for emergencies.”
“Meaning for set-ups.” Kate swallowed hard. “Shaun, I’m going to have to arrest you. You understand that.”
“I swear to God that I didn’t know he’d kill that prosecutor with it or go after the judge or-.” He looked at Anya. “I’m s-sorry. You saw what the Harbourns did. We’re supposed to be the good guys, and we couldn’t stop them.”
Kate unstrapped herself and moved across. “I need your weapon.”
Wheeler reached into his holster and removed it, handing it to Kate. “He said he just wanted to make them face him. I swear to God, I thought they killed his daughter too.”
“You don’t have to say anything else,” Kate said. “This conversation’s being recorded, and in the presence of an independent witness. You’re going to need a lawyer-a really good one.”
49
Anya stood outside the crematorium, having come from Bevan Hart’s memorial service. Despite the fact that he had been a long-term Rotary member and popular mechanic, few people turned out. It was difficult to know what to say to Val Hart, for her incomprehensible losses, but Mary Singer had made it easier, if that was possible.
Anya watched Dan Brody lift his father from the car and into the wheelchair. What should have taken five minutes took a lot longer, with the fussing Dan was employing. Even so, Anya resisted the temptation to walk over and help.
This was something Dan needed to do and it was the only way he would get better at it. Besides, she enjoyed watching the two men interact.
The minister wandered out and shook her hand, then waited for the Brodys. William looked immaculate in a gray suit, white shirt and tastefully patterned tie. His wispy hair had been trimmed and combed. Shiny black shoes befitted the occasion. Dan wore a dark suit and white open-necked shirt. The family resemblance was even more startling today.
The hearse pulled up, with two men accompanying the glossy white coffin, adorned in lilies, with a bright yellow sunflower in the center.
The sight of the miniature casket brought home the sadness of the death of any child. As a mother, Anya felt it very deeply. Her eyes welled up and she could imagine the pain Therese Brody had experienced at the delivery, compounding all she had already been through. And yet, this woman had enough love to care so much about her stillborn child that she did not want to be too far from her. The way the box had been lovingly kept for so many years showed that.
Now Dan and his father had decided to place the baby’s ashes alongside those of her mother.
Dan kissed Anya on the cheek and thanked her for coming. William held out his good hand, and Anya bent over to kiss his forehead. He even smelled different. “Is that Passion?” she asked.”
The old man gave his best half-smile.
The whiteboard was now in a small bag attached to the wheelchair, for easy access.
The minister asked if they were expecting anyone else, and Dan checked his watch.
“I’m not sure, but we might give it another couple of minutes,” he said, glancing around.
A large, circular drive surrounded a stunning display of petunias, violets and lavender. In the center of the oasis was a bench. To the left of the building a car park contained a handful of vehicles.
Anya wondered if anyone else had been invited to the ceremony. A metallic-blue Mercedes swung into the car park and Dan turned around. A woman with a scarf and dark glasses climbed out of the driver’s seat.
Mrs. Pascoe, dressed in a navy skirt-suit, approached them, carrying a small yellow bear.
She nodded at Anya and Dan, and introduced herself to William.
“I’m Penelope Pascoe, well I used to be Sheehan. Therese and I were friends a long time ago. I wanted to pay my respects.”
William shook her left hand.
She turned to Dan, “I hope you don’t mind, but this was something I had for my little Erin. I want you to have it.” She glanced over at the coffin and her voice wavered. “After all, she was this little one’s half-sister.”
Dan took the little toy and glanced at his father. “Mum named my sister Charlotte.” He bent over to hug Mrs. Pascoe. “We’ll be putting the ashes with hers.”
The minister asked if they all would like to begin.
Anya pushed the wheelchair into the crematorium hall, following Dan and Mrs. Pascoe.
Therese Brody hadn’t wanted to forget Charlotte. Decades later, the baby had managed to bring together Therese’s son and the man she had always loved, Dan’s father.
Both mother and daughter had earned the right to rest in peace. Finally they were together as a family.
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