Time of Death

50

Ren woke up on Peter Everett’s sofa. It looked like nothing had happened. No signs of a struggle. But two people had struggled…against four others. She glanced at her watch. Two hours had gone by…and now nothing. The only disturbance was the pounding inside her head. She sat up and slowly brought her feet to the floor. It was dark and clear outside. There was no snow falling. She let her head rest back against the sofa.

Douglas Hammond and Peter Everett killed Trudie Hammond. Now Douglas Hammond was dead. Peter Everett would have been dead, too, if that was what the intruders had wanted.

And so would I.

Ren made a call to Gary Dettling and held the phone an inch from her ear.

There was no evidence of a break-in in Peter Everett’s house. The rooms were undisturbed, the intruders had worn gloves, the back door had not been smashed in. There were no footprints — no fresh snow to hold them. Everett’s car was in the driveway where he had left it. Ren’s car was outside on the street.

Gary arrived at the scene with Colin, Cliff and Robbie. Ren went through everything twice. Cliff took her aside gently.

‘How are you doing? Are you OK?’

Ren nodded. ‘Yes, thanks.’

‘Just a heads-up — I called Glenn Buddy myself, to…lessen the blow.’

‘Oh, God,’ said Ren. ‘I never even thought of that. He’s going to-’

‘Hello,’ said Cliff loudly. ‘Glenn, how are you doing?’

Glenn came up behind Ren and shook Cliff’s hand. He reached out for Ren’s as an afterthought.

I am the ground zero of all things bad in Denver. ‘Hey,’ said Ren.

‘What happened here?’ said Glenn.

‘Nothing that you’re going to find any evidence of, I’m afraid,’ said Ren.

Glenn walked past her. ‘Well, we’ll see about that. Follow me in here, please.’

Everyone arrived back at Safe Streets at around the same time. Ren made a pot of coffee for ten and drank most of it. The television flickered in the corner. Every media outlet in Denver had heard the news of the missing millionaire…minus the detail that he and the dead judge had killed the woman they loved. Ren sat miserably in front of her computer.

The only man who can confirm all that is gone.

She opened a file and began typing in everything Peter Everett had told her. It was seared into her brain.

It was seven a.m. by the time Ren made it back to Annie’s in a hazy painkiller glow. She went into the living room and slumped on to the uncomfortable sofa, dragging a magazine off the table. It fell open at: How to De-clutter Your Home. Ren looked around the room and decided to leave the magazine out for when Annie got back.

Just like mom left the ‘Telling Your Children the Facts of Life’ article from the Times on the coffee table when I was eleven years old.

Ren read about de-cluttering and decided to apply some of the tips to her mind. She also read about finding hidden treasures in your home. Annie, you must have millions. Ren got up and wandered over to an oak cabinet by the wall. She idly opened the door and made to close it again. But something caught her eye: four boxes marked The Bryces were lined across a shelf.

The rest were from another family Annie had been close to. Ren pulled out the Bryce box and opened it. It had photos, letters from her mom to Annie, postcards from vacations. Ren recognized her own writing. She picked up the letter.

June, 1981

Dear Annie

It is SO hot. I am SO happy we’re not in school. I’ve been out on my bike, roller-skating, playing jump-rope. Last night, we went to a concert in the park — in a tent! It was fun!!! Before it, we had hamburgers, fries and milk for supper. Yummy!!! At the concert, we had popcorn and ice-cream. Matt dropped his on his leg and we could not stop laughing. Beau was mad. We were not paying attention. Mom got mad too. We stayed in the park after. I went on the carousel and the bumper cars. It was fun!!!Love and hugs,

Orenda XOXOXOXOXO

The innocence. Nine years old with no cell phone, no computer games, no lip gloss, no designer clothes, no staying indoors in the summer. But it was the last summer the kids in the neighborhood had the joy of roaming free. She remembered one little girl saying she hated Louis Parry. Hated, hated, hated him for ruining everything.

Ren put the box away as soon as she saw the corner of a photo with Beau’s sneaker in it.

Not tonight. Not alone.

She went up to her room and put on her iPod. Chopin Nocturnes. This is what my sore head needs. She fell asleep to it. And two hours later, she jerked awake to it.

Louis Parry. Louis Parry. Louis Parry. The Catskill police had focused on the amusements. But Louis Parry was into music. And at the other side of the park, an orchestra was in a tent playing Mozart and Schubert. And Louis Parry had no money…so Louis Parry had sneaked in…or Louis Parry had stolen the money to get in…or someone had given Louis Parry the money to get in…or Louis Parry had been promised a free pass in exchange for something else. Ren’s stomach lurched.

She grabbed her cell phone and dialed Daryl Stroud.

‘Daryl, it’s Ren again.’

‘Hey, Ren.’

‘Sorry for bothering you. I’m…’ Wired to the moon.

‘No problem,’ said Daryl. ‘How are you doing?’

‘A little better,’ said Ren. ‘I think I know what happened to Louis Parry.’

Silence.

‘OK,’ said Ren, ‘But if you could hear me out…’

‘Sure,’ said Daryl. ‘Go ahead.’

‘Everyone focused on Louis having gone to the amusements that day. Do you remember there was a concert too? I think he went to the concert. Or tried to go and didn’t get there.’

‘Slow down. I caught “amusements”.’

‘Sorry, sorry, sorry,’ said Ren. She repeated herself.

‘Does it matter where he was headed in the park?’ said Daryl. ‘The park was canvassed. Cops searched the entire area. They spoke to everyone they could who was there.’

‘But did they talk to the orchestra?’ said Ren.

Daryl paused. ‘Uh…they left that night. Before it was confirmed that Louis was gone. But…I do remember reading in the file that someone called the director of the orchestra and asked him to ask the rest of them. No one saw any kids.’

‘So the members of the orchestra weren’t individually questioned?’

‘No.’

‘And obviously there were no background checks done on any of them…’

Daryl spoke with the patient tone she would have expected. ‘In 1981 in little old Catskill…doing background checks on thirty members of a Czech orchestra? No.’

‘And what about now?’ said Ren. ‘Could you do anything about this now? I think it’s worth exploring.’

Daryl let out a breath.

‘What about this as a scenario?’ said Ren. ‘Louis went to the park early to get into the concert. That’s what he was into — music, not merry-go-rounds. He was not supposed to be there, so he was sneaking around. And what if someone caught him? And felt sorry for him, maybe let him in backstage. Or else…something obviously more sinister. Or it just led to something…I don’t know. I’m not sure.’

‘What’s this all based on?’

Won’t be mentioning my letter to Annie. ‘Looking at the dead ends in the investigation, and finding a new way out…or in. Louis couldn’t go to the concert. We all went. Beau wanted to bring Louis and a few of his other students with us, but they didn’t all have the money and Mom and Dad couldn’t afford to pay for everyone.’

Daryl’s silences were getting noisy. ‘Ren, if I go ahead and this is another-’

‘I will not keep bothering you about this, Daryl, I promise. Remember, I am desperate. I admit it. More than anything in this world right now, I want Beau to have the untarnished memory he deserves. Sure, who cares what other people think? But this is an exception for me. I do care. He was my wonderful, gorgeous, wouldn’t-hurt-a-fly brother. And my parents are devastated.’

‘I know,’ said Daryl. ‘I’ve seen them. Your father…has aged. And your mother is well, trying to put on a brave face. Jay’s been checking in with us a lot…’

‘What?’

‘Yes. He’s a good guy, Jay. He got very emotional on one particular visit.’

Well, holy shit. ‘He…visited?’

‘Yes. Mainly phone calls, but he visited that one time.’

‘Wow…you must be having Bryce overload.’

‘It’s OK,’ said Daryl. ‘I understand.’

‘Thanks. It’s just…I can’t bear to think of the Parrys’ agony. I mean, terrible as it was, at least we all know what happened to Beau. To lose a child and not know — I couldn’t cope with that. You might as well write off your entire life from that point on.’

‘OK…let me go check out a few things,’ said Daryl. ‘I appreciate you calling. You could…have taken care of this yourself.’ He paused. ‘But I’m sure you’re very busy with the-’

‘It’s not that I’m too busy, Daryl. It’s your investigation.’

‘Thank you.’

‘You’ve nothing to thank me for. Best of luck with it.’