Episode 44 - Who really needs another case?

Angela Morrison was a material witness, he thought, and he should call Sykes and hand her over.  But he had a strange feeling there was more to her than met the eye, in more ways than one.

And dangerous.  She was one of those women who could cause a man to do something he would regret for a long time, and Harry was not in the frame of mind for committing regrettable actions.  At least, not right then.

He had a lot more work to do before he could close this case.

Despite Sykes’ warning and his immediate thought of turning her into the police, a decision on what he was going to do next could wait till the morning.

“You got somewhere to stay?” Harry asked.

She had been looking out the window, down on the street.  Whatever was down there had caught her attention, and Harry had to ask her again before she turned her attention back to him.

“Yes.  A hotel room, not far away.  Are we done?”

“For the moment?”

“Are you taking my case?”

“What case?”

“Proving Al killed Cathy Jones.”

“I thought you wanted to find Al?”

“That too.”

“Jennifer Jones is already paying for me to find him.”

“And if it was her?  You wouldn’t get paid.”

No, he thought, he wouldn’t.  And, considering the fact she turned up with Brightwater when they last met, he was not sure what her involvement was.  That didn’t rule out Brightwater either.

“And if it turns out to be you?”

“I didn’t do it, so you’re guaranteed to get paid, one way or another.”

“Then yes.  I might as well.”

She pulled a stack of bills out of her handbag and tossed the bundle to me.  At least what appeared to be about five thousand dollars.

“Where did you get this?”

She looked as though she was thinking about an acceptable answer, and then said, “Hush money from Miriam.  I'd be looking into that woman because she seems to have a tap at Outtel that pours money.”

© Charles Heath 2016-2019

Episode 43 - Angela Morrison

Angela / Cathy turned to follow her but Harry stood between her and the door.  She was not going to get away until he had the truth.

Or her version of it.

“Who are you, Angela or Cathy?”

“Would you believe me if I told you?”

Another answer to a question with a question-answer pounded into an already pounding headache.  Tiredness was catching up with him and with all the twists and turns, Harry was struggling to keep up.  If he was lucky, which he was not, Edwina would be the next person to call and ask him to take on her case too.

“Try me.”

She was looking at Harry, and then the door, and back again, calculating the odds of escaping.  It wouldn’t take much to knock him over.  Of course, there was only one problem with that course of action, if she did, that would mean she was guilty.

Of what, Harry was not sure.  He didn't think she killed Al.  She didn’t look to him like a killer.  Besides, didn’t he read somewhere women preferred to use poison?

“Angela Morrison, as Miriam said.”

“And why the deception?”

“I needed the money.  I lived with Cathy before she was killed, and she had a bad life considering who her father and mother were.  Al was a killer, and her mother, there’s a piece of work.”

“You knew Jennifer?”

“We used to go to their place for dinner.  Cathy would have to cook, I helped her.  The way Al treated Cathy, both of us considered killing him many times over.  I was there the night he did kill her, and there was nothing I could do to stop him.”

“You saw him actually kill Kathy?”

 “No, not actually see him do it.”

Which meant there was, from her point of view, no reason, other than circumstantial evidence, that he did.”

“Then how could you say he did it?”

“Because he bashed me too, and left me in a coma, and without any memory of what happened at the time.  The police found me at the scene, hanging on by a shred.  Cathy was dead.  I was no help in bringing Al to justice.  My memory only came back about a year ago, and I’ve been looking for him since then.”

“But you just said...”

“He did it.  There’s no doubt in my mind.”  Anger and determination.

“Did you have an affair with Al?”  It was a logical question.  He’d know Angela wasn’t his daughter and given his reputation, and the fact it was Joseph’s daughter, which, when he thought about it, sounded a little crazy.

Harry had also made the assumption that if she could get close enough, a knife through the ribs when he was expecting something else would serve her purpose.

“No, that’s just creepy.”

“Did you meet him at the office?”

“Yes.”

“Did he remember you from that night?”

“No.  I’ve changed a lot since then.”

“Then you could have used your charm to get close and kill him.”

“That was not what I was after.”

“You said you could kill him for what he did to Cathy.  Your words.”

“I was angry with him, yes, but that doesn’t mean I had the courage to go through with it.”

Then a thought occurred to Harry.  Time to confirm my assumption.

“Who are you really?”

“Why do you ask?”

“Seems odd that an old school friend would be this interested in a dead girl.  She means something else to you?”

“Yes.  She was my cousin.  Edwina Jones or as she was known before she married Joseph Jones, Edwina Morrison, is my mother.”

© Charles Heath 2016-2019

Episode 42 - Sanity, none

The two women squared up.

“I could say the same thing about you,” the woman I knew as Cathy, but was really named Angela, said with equal intensity.

This was where discretion was required, and not get between them.  Perhaps a pitcher of cold water might come in handy though.

A thought occurred to me, one that should have come to me a lot earlier.

“What’s the name of Joseph’s wife?”

Both women suspended glaring at each other and turned it on me.  “What that got to do with this,” Miriam asked.

“Do you know what her name is, or not?”

“Edwina.”

“Where is she?”

“Home, where she always is.”

“Joseph said she was having an affair with Al.”

Miriam laughed harshly.  “How could she?”  And realized the implication of that statement the moment it left her mouth.

“Why would Joseph think she was?”

“Why ask me?  I only saw the woman twice the whole time I’ve been working in the office and that was the day after they got married and their first anniversary.”

She looked thoughtful for a moment and then said, “Damn.  I forgot about that.”

And abruptly turned and ran out of the office.

Leaving me with a sudden thought, I was standing in front of what could be Joseph and Edwina Jones daughter, Angela, and why did she have the surname Morrison?

© Charles Heath 2016-2019

Episode 41 - A redhead sees red!

She barged her way through the door, and then stopped abruptly when she saw Cathy.

“You!”  A snarl, like a dog preparing to attack.

First question, how did she get in, and where was security.

The second question, “Do you know her?”

The woman in red was on her feet, ready for battle.

“Yes.  Angela Morrison.  She came to me with some trumped up story about how she was Al’s daughter’s friend and she knew the truth about how she died and wanted money to keep quiet.”

A new twist Harry thought, another piece of the unsolvable puzzle.

New question.  “Did you kill Al?”

She swung around and glared at him.  “What?”

“It’s a simple yes or no question, did you kill Al?”

A momentary change in expression, to one of incredulity. “No.”

“Where were you between 6:00 am and 2:00 am. This morning?”

“In a bar trying to get drunk.  Then some idiot cop called Sykes had me picked up and taken to the station for questioning  I didn’t do it.”

“You were having an affair?”

“No.  I was Al’s friend, the only person he could talk to.  I’m as much ion the dark as you as to his whereabouts, but one thing I do know, he’s not dead no matter what you saw, or you think you saw.”

“Then why are you here?”

“I was going to employ you to find Al, or his murderer if you discovered he was dead.  Looks like I don't have to now. The murderer is standing in front of you.”

© Charles Heath 2016-2019

Episode 40 - Questions, no real answers

Harry went over to the sidebar and poured himself a generous Scotch.  He looked in her direction as she swung her legs around to sit up and shook his head, then went over to his desk and sat in the chair behind it.

He took the time to clear his head and consider possibilities.  Nothing in that moment made sense.

He looked at her again, the ultimate femme fatale.

“Who is your real father?”

She looked at him with a puzzled expression.  “Is that a trick question?”

“No, it’s quite simple.  Who is your real father?”

“Al, of course.”

She was lying.  The moment she hesitated, he could tell.

“Did you shoot Al?”

“No.”

“Was that the murder weapon you left me with?”

“I don't know.  I found it on the floor near the staff entrance.”

“Who is your mother?”

“Jennifer Jones.”

“Do you know Jeremy Brightwater?”

“Not personally, but he’s one of the partners with Al and Joe.”

“When was the last time you saw your mother?”

Hesitation.  Then, “Over two years ago.”

“When you died?”

Shock, surprise, or indignation.  Or all three at once.

“I think it’s quite apparent I’m not dead.”

“Not according to your mother.  I just spoke to her not half an hour ago.”

“I was dead to her long before that.”

The woman sitting on my sofa wasn’t Cathy.  It couldn’t be.

Here’s the scenario that was formulating itself in my mind:  A woman who looks like Cathy sees an opportunity.  She knows something of the death of the real Cathy, uses this knowledge to contact Al and try to blackmail him, convincing she was still alive and will tell the world the truth.  I still didn’t know what that ‘truth’ was.  Al panics, embezzles money from the company, tries to pin it on Brightwater, calls her to pay her off, and she or someone else, an accomplice, kills him.

Not my kind of case.

I went over to the door and held it open.  “You can leave now.  I’m done with the charades, and lies.”

But unfortunately, standing on the other side of the door was the conniving bitch, Miriam Waters.

© Charles Heath 2016-2019

Episode 39 - Cathy Jones, no?

When he got out of the limousine Brightwater asked him if he was going to keep the case and find Al’s killer.  Harry simply mumbled he had to think about it, and shut the door.

Buteski was right.  Leave it to the police.  He would call him later, and tell Buteski about Jennifer and Brightwater.

Maybe then, the bad dream would go away, and he could go back to chasing lost cats.

Like all good private detectives, he sometimes slept at his office, having a sofa that doubled as a bed.  One more comfortable, he thought, than the bed at home.

He used his night pass to get into the building and walked slowly up the back stairs, water dripping from his clothes, leaving a trail of water on the carpet.

It took only a moment to unlock the door and go in.  He hesitated to turn on the harsh neon light, and instead switched on the table lamp, letting it cast an eerie glow over the office.

Then, looking in the direction of the sofa he noticed someone had beaten him to it.  Dressed in red.  A woman.

She rolled over, opened her eyes and looked at him.  "You took your time, didn't you?"

First the shock of seeing her, second considering how she got into the building let alone his office.  Security was supposed to be state of the art.

“Just who the hell are you?”  Harry was in no mood for anything and resisted his first urge to throw her out.  He would get some answers first.

“I’ve told you already.”

“And I don’t believe you.  The cops told me you’re dead.  Your mother confirmed it; said your father has something to do with it.”

Her expression changed, but just a little.  To Harry, it was an indication she might be lying.  “He did.”

© Charles Heath 2016-2019

Episode 38 - Brightwater explains

Harry gave Jennifer a glare.  “So, it’s not Joe you’re having an affair with, it’s Jeremy Brightwater.”

“No, neither of them, despite how it looks.”

“You said you were with him half the night.”

“I cannot control what you might infer from that, but it is not what you think.  I asked him to come with me to see Al when Al called, and try and talk some sense into him.”

Harry didn’t know what to think.  He turned to Brightwater.  “Al was testifying against you, so it would be in your best interests to make sure he didn’t.”

“Why would I kill him, and add murder to charges that can easily be explained away.  The Jones brothers killed each other because of their insane jealousy.”

It was a story that fitted the facts as Harry knew them, but it was too convenient.  Brightwater had the opportunity and the motive.  He was not sure about the means yet, but he knew where the gun was, perhaps the murder weapon.

Brightwater’s hand, holding the seat top as he turned was gloved.  Ok, Harry thought, perhaps no fingerprints on the murder weapon, but another tick in the guilty box.

“You said the embezzlement was easily explained.”  Harry went back over the conversation, looking for .... what?

“Al tried to frame me.  It was particularly crude.”

“And why would he do that?”

“Because he was extremely angry when he discovered Cathy was my daughter not his, and when he found out he killed her.”

Harry looked at Jennifer.

“Not my finest moment, but it’s true.  Both Jeremy and Al found out at the same time.  Al took it very badly.  He should have gone to jail and if he stayed there, none of this would have happened.”

“Is she still alive?” Harry asked Brightwater.

“Impossible.  I saw her die.  I was with her when she drew her last breath, stayed with her till they took her to the morgue.”

Unless, of course, he was lying.  To me, and to Jennifer.

“I suggest you talk to Inspector Sykes before he finds you.  Both of you.  Drop me at my car. I think I’ve had enough for one day.”

© Charles Heath 2016-2019