She switched off the light while she recalled snippets from that course. If the rope didn’t break a victim’s neck, she would strangle to death. The face would turn blue and the eyes bulge. Simone didn’t look like that.
Casey glanced at the street. If Theo was guilty, why pelt her window and hang around long enough to risk being seen?
A Vancouver police cruiser pulled up, followed by an unmarked vehicle and Lalonde’s Sebring. Lalonde stepped out of his car and spoke at the gate to some police officers. Krueger also emerged from a vehicle. As he and Lalonde approached the house, Casey switched on the light. Lalonde didn’t acknowledge her. His eyes were on Simone.
“Don’t step onto the porch, Miss Holland.”
“Didn’t plan to.” She kept her voice low. “I think she was brought here to warn me.”
“About what?”
“To hand over three million dollars, or else.” Casey shivered.
As more officers arrived, Lalonde said, “Let’s go inside.”
As they stepped into the hallway, Lalonde murmured something to Krueger, who headed back outside. In the living room, Lalonde and Casey stood at the picture window.
“So, Miss Holland,” Lalonde said, “tell me again what went on tonight. You weren’t making yourself clear on the phone.”
Casey told him about her first meeting with Simone in Victoria and Simone’s insistence on secrecy. When she mentioned Simone’s request to meet her at the theater, Lalonde’s expression became grim. She described the noise at her window and Theo running away. By the time she’d finished talking, Lalonde looked ready to implode.
“You should have told me about the meeting.” Anger laced every word. “You know I’ve been looking for the lady.”
“I knew you tried in France, but you never said anything about letting you know if she contacted me. I thought she only wanted to tell me stuff about Dad’s last hours and give me a few of his mementoes.” Lalonde’s don’t-play-games-with-me look annoyed her. “Look, she was an eccentric who used to tell fortunes with tarot cards. I really believed she knew nothing about the murder. Simone was adamant that Dad died from botulism, and she seemed totally uninterested in hearing anything about the body in the morgue.”
“Yes, well, your belief may have cost the lady her life,” Lalonde said.
Casey’s face grew warm. God, was he right? Had she misread Simone?
Bright lights suddenly illuminated the front yard.
“Did you find any of those mementoes near the body?” Lalonde asked.
“No.”
“Casey?” Rhonda shuffled into the room.
Oh, hell. “It’s okay, Rhonda, go back to bed.” Casey hurried up to her. “We’ll talk in the morning.”
Wearing a faded yellow robe that exposed too much cleavage, Rhonda squinted at Lalonde. The front door opened just enough to admit Krueger who marched past Rhonda, into the living room, and whispered something to Lalonde.
“What’s going on?” Rhonda asked on her way to the front door.
Casey rushed past her and stood in front of the entrance. “Some punk’s been joking around. Go back to bed.”
“Has something happened to my house?”
“It’s fine, don’t worry.”
Rhonda stared at the amber glass. “Why’s it so bright outside? What’s going on?”
“It’s a long story.” Casey ushered her to the staircase. “I’ll tell you everything in a few minutes, promise.”
Rhonda rubbed her temples. “My head’s killing me. Too much wine.”
“Mrs. Stubbs, have you seen Mr. Churcott tonight?” Lalonde asked, approaching her.
Rhonda blinked at him. “No, why?”
“My colleague just informed me that his car’s not here,” Lalonde said.
“As far as I know, he hasn’t been around. But his suite’s at the back of the house and my bedroom’s in front, so I might have missed him.”
She had started up the steps when Lalonde said, “Where were you on the night of the murder?”
Rhonda’s puffy eyes looked at Casey. “We knew this was coming, didn’t we?” She turned to Lalonde. “I was watching my daughter’s swim practice from seven-thirty to nine-thirty and chatting with the other moms.”
“Which club does she belong to?”
“Fathom.”
“Does she normally practise Sunday nights?”
“Yeah.”
Casey spotted Krueger who was apparently jotting down every word Rhonda spoke.
“All done, Detective?” Rhonda gripped the railing.
“For now.”
“Good. So what are you West Van cops doing on Vancouver police turf, anyway?” Both officers looked at her, but said nothing. Casey wasn’t ready to explain why she’d called both local police and Lalonde.
“Please, Rhonda. We’ll talk soon,” she said.
“No, I—”
“Rhonda,” Casey’s voice rose. She was losing her patience, but didn’t care. “I said I’ll come see you in a few minutes. I just need you to go right now, okay?”
Rhonda scowled at her. “Fine, whatever, but don’t take too long.”
While Rhonda stomped upstairs, Lalonde strolled toward the appliqued “Glamor Ladies” picture. From the window, Krueger watched the action outside.
“Was it necessary to question her now?” Casey joined Lalonde. “And after everything you’ve learned about Darcy and Theo, why is her alibi even an issue?”
“The evidence only points to one other person, besides Gustaf Osterman, in the house that night. That person was a woman.”
“What’d you find?” Ignoring her, Lalonde joined Krueger at the window. “Come on, Detective. I promise this stays between us.”
“A blue sequin,” he answered, turning to her. “The blood pattern we found on a cupboard door could have come from a dress or formal gown. Not too many men would wear blue-sequined gowns to commit a murder.”
“Do you really think Rhonda owns a gown? Look in her drawers and closet some time, and then take a good look at Gislinde Van Akker’s wardrobe. By the way, weren’t you supposed to have someone watching this place tonight?”
“Arrangements were more complicated than expected.” Lalonde checked his watch. “He should be here shortly.”
“Too little, too late,” Casey murmured.
Lalonde’s eyes smoldered in that perpetually grim face. “You claimed you saw Theodore Ziegler running from here. Are you certain it was him?”
“Yes.” She turned to watch the activity outside.
“Have you any idea where Darcy Churcott might be?” Lalonde asked.
“Ask my mother. I hear she knows a lot about what’s going on.”
“Who told you that?”
“Vincent Wilkes, Theo, and Gislinde Van Akker.”
A chunky, slightly stooped man entered the room. “Looks like the lady was dead before she got here.”
Lalonde turned to Casey. “If this was a message for you, I’d pay attention.” He and Krueger followed the man outside.
Casey continued to watch the police work until she noticed that she too was being observed. Beyond the yellow tape now stretched in front of the house, spectators had gathered. One of them pointed at her.
Casey retreated to her apartment and kept the lights off. Part of her wanted to seek the safety and comfort of her bed, but she couldn’t sleep. The image of Simone on the porch would probably stay in her head forever. She wished she wasn’t here, in this house, but she couldn’t leave Rhonda.
