Time of Death

41

Ren went straight from Denver airport to Safe Streets. Cliff was the welcome face in the office.

‘Help me out here, Cliff,’ said Ren, walking in, dropping her bag on her desk. ‘As we know, I am without child, so can you explain to me how parents can be so shut down to the possibility that their offspring can do wrong? Or not even that — obviously some parents do acknowledge that. What I want to know is what makes one parent own up to their child’s bad behavior and another parent swear blind that they couldn’t possibly have done anything wrong? I don’t get it. Especially if there is evidence to the contrary.’

‘I was in school with this kid,’ said Cliff. ‘We were seven years old. And he was an arsonist. A full-blown set-a-hugefire arsonist. Who developed into a set-a-huge-fire-and-jerk-off-while-you’re-watching-it arsonist. He smelled of fire the whole time. He had burn marks on his hands. The kid died in a fire, for Christ’s sake. And his parents, one of whom was the school principal, still to this day, talks about his son’s “accident”. I used to imagine the parents, standing in their garage, shaking a jerry can and thinking “Oops, we’re running low again.”’

‘It’s insane,’ said Ren. ‘When I misbehaved as a kid — over and over — my mother never once tried to tell anyone I was innocent.’

Cliff said nothing.

‘Oh my God,’ said Ren. ‘That’s why I’m fucked up.’ She paused. ‘Your silence is telling me that that’s not normal, my own mother not backing me up.’

‘Hold it right there,’ said Cliff. ‘Mothers have instincts when their kids have done wrong. The crucial thing is — did your mother stand up for you when you were innocent?’

‘I never was,’ said Ren.

‘There you go, then. I’m sure if someone had accused you of something you didn’t do, she would have waded right in there.’

‘But Luke Sarvas is a liar.’

‘He’s a seventeen-year-old kid whose mother thought she’d lost him for good.’

‘You know in a movie where there’s this kid who just has these knowing eyes that slide around the place to flag the fact that there’s something weird about them? Luke Sarvas gives me that vibe. It’s not that I think he’s weird. But he is not some innocent. You can’t be innocent if you’re doing blow and hanging out in titty bars.’ She smiled at Cliff. ‘I know I sound like someone’s grandma, but I liked it when kids were more innocent. God, if I have kids it’s going to be like The Village.’

‘You’d be surprised at how you adjust,’ said Cliff. ‘And you’d be surprised at how you can bring up your children a certain way that acknowledges the world we live in and just gives them the coping skills to navigate through it.’

‘Wow,’ said Ren, ‘would you like to be the father of my children?’

‘Just up until the point of conception.’

Ren smiled.

‘So,’ said Cliff, ‘about you murdering Douglas Hammond…’

Ren shook her head. ‘You heard.’

‘Of course I heard,’ said Cliff. ‘Why were you meeting him on a dark night?’

‘I can’t get into that, Cliff,’ said Ren. ‘I’m sorry. You know I love you, but…I can’t.’

‘Is it to do with your friend Helen?’

Ren nodded. ‘Yes.’

‘And while we’re at it,’ said Cliff. ‘Do you know something about Trudie Hammond?’

‘Here’s the thing,’ said Ren. ‘I know something about me. Like, I did not have a hand in Douglas Hammond’s death. I do, however, look as though I did. So…if I could, for example, work out whether maybe he was the target of his wife’s killer all those years ago, then I could at least have some evidence in my defense.’

‘It probably looks like you did because you lied about it.’

‘There’s more to it than that, Cliff. Which I know is annoying to hear when I’m not revealing what that “more” is. I’m sorry.’

‘Don’t be, but don’t get in trouble because you won’t ask for help.’

‘OK.’

‘So, what is the JeffCo Cold Case Unit looking at in the Hammond case?’

‘Running DNA tests — glass fragments, nightgown, carpet.’

‘Any theories?’

‘Firstly, I think it’s weird that Hammond didn’t insist on it earlier. And secondly…well, let’s see what comes up.’

‘Was she raped?’

‘No signs of rape at the autopsy. She did have consensual sex with her husband that morning.’

‘It could just be an intruder expecting to burgle an unoccupied house during the morning when people are out at work,’ said Cliff. ‘They had a nice house, rich pickings…’

‘But I’m wondering, could someone have been waiting for Hammond to come home?’ said Ren. ‘Hammond could have been the intended target.’

Cliff nodded. ‘Maybe he witnessed something and someone needed to get rid of him. Maybe they felt that his wife’s death was warning enough to put him off, but something happened recently that made them think that he could still expose them?’

Ren shrugged. ‘Could it have been connected to someone who was part of the original investigation? Like…a crooked cop.’

‘Doing what?’ said Cliff.

‘I don’t know…maybe Hammond came across something recently that led him to believe a cover-up had happened?’

But could Helen Wheeler fit into that scenario? And if so, where?

‘If in doubt, coffee,’ said Ren.

‘Yes, please,’ said Cliff.

Ren’s phone rang as she was carrying the mugs back in.

‘There you go, baby-daddy,’ she said, putting one in front of Cliff.

‘Thank you, octo-mommy.’

‘I have to do it that many times?’ said Ren.

‘Answer your phone,’ said Cliff.

‘Barefoot and pregnant, that’s all I am to you now.’ She looked at the number flashing on the screen. ‘It’s the lab.’ She picked up and listened. ‘Wow,’ she said. ‘OK.’

‘What?’ Cliff mouthed.

Ren put her hand over the receiver and spoke to Cliff. ‘Curiouser and curiouser. DNA on the nightgown. Semen. And not Judge Hammond’s.’

She took her hand away and spoke to the lab. ‘In that case, could I ask you pretty please to do a cross-match for me?’