Murder Is Uncooperative (21 page)

Carol's eyes were red but she smiled at me. “Thanks for coming,” she said. “I hadn't noticed when I talked to you but there appear to be three boxes of stuff. You'd think I'd have noticed that Ruth was bringing masses of work home.”

She frowned. “You know, maybe Les had them. Ruth and I cleaned up his apartment after he died, and I think she brought some stuff home from there. I think she did say something about things missing from the office and wondering if Les had them. But she didn't tell me she'd found anything. I thought maybe she was bringing home a few things to remember him by—he was always good to her when she was little—or maybe just some household stuff she thought she could use when she got her own place.”

Her eyes filled with tears. “She was planning on moving out, you know, talking about getting her own apartment, now that she was working. I was worried about her, but girls have to grow up. Of course, she won't now.”

I hugged her as she sobbed on my shoulder. “Could I make you some tea?” I asked. I knew tea wouldn't soften her grief, but that's what people did. “Or I could call someone to stay with you. A friend? Someone from your church?'

“No, I'll be all right, thank you. I just have to get used to her not being around. Let me show you the boxes. I can help you carry them to your car. You do have a car, don't you? The boxes are quite heavy.”

I assured her I did. I was glad I had brought the car. I couldn't imagine trying to walk home carrying even one awkward cardboard box. Even taking the bus would be difficult. And carrying all three would have been impossible.

I thought about Carol as I drove home. Both Les and Ruth had been part of the co-op. Surely, there was something we could do to help her. I thought I could drop off a casserole and a salad for her, so she could eat well without worrying about cooking. And maybe Mariana and Gwen could make something for her. Then I remembered that Ruth had likely been poisoned in the co-op. Maybe food wasn't a good idea.

Carol had mentioned something about Ruth's weak heart, and a suspicion of autism. Perhaps we could make a donation in Les and Ruth's name to the heart and stroke foundation or a group that worked to help autistic kids. Maybe we could donate to an organization that developed affordable housing, either in Canada or the developing world. Or maybe we could hold some sort of memorial in the co-op, or even rename the building after them. I'd have to talk to Gwen and Jeremy about it. Maybe the board could come up with an appropriate tribute. I could certainly mention them in the history of the co-op I was working on. That would be one way to recognize their contributions.

Although I could have used help carrying the heavy boxes, I was glad no one was around when I pulled into the parking garage. I really didn't want anyone in the co-op to know I had found some more information, at least until I had a chance to go through it. I realized that I might have brought back nothing more than the receipts needed for the financial statements for last month. Or even last year. The boxes might contain nothing of interest at all. But I could feel a growing excitement.

I managed to carry all three boxes to my apartment without running into anyone. As I was carrying the last box home, I thought I heard a door open. I thought it was from Naomi's side of the hall, but I wasn't sure. I looked over my shoulder, but all the doors in the hall were closed.

I shrugged and carried the last box to my bedroom office.

I tore them open eagerly. The first was a disappointment. As I'd feared, it was filled with invoices and copies of cancelled checks from this month and the two previous months. Obviously Ruth had been working on the current quarter's financial statements for the next board meeting.

I was thrilled when I opened the next box. It was from the year Amy and Jessie had disappeared. But it seemed to contain nothing more than the usual meeting minutes and old pictures I had come to expect. There was a brief mention in one of the board minutes after the girls had disappeared, wondering if the co-op could do something to help the families. But I couldn't find any further mention after the date that Jessica's body had been found.

I looked at the boxes in bemusement. Was this how other organizations handled their filing? There might have been extra copies of the minutes in neat binders in the office but somehow, remembering what the office always looked like, I doubted it. Maybe that was something I could do after I'd sorted the materials for the co-op history. Or maybe the new staff person could organize the files. I knew the board had advertised the position but there had been few applicants. I could guess why.

It was in the last box that I found the only interesting information. It was a piece of paper in Les's handwriting attached to a complaint form on the co-op's letterhead. The ink was faded, but I gathered that Cara's mother had filed a complaint to the co-op against Eddie Cole under the co-op by-laws, and was asking that Mariana and Eddie be evicted.

I shuffled through the rest of the papers but couldn't find anything else about the complaint. There was nothing in the board minutes to show that the complaint had ever been dealt with, let
alone resolved. I knew from experience that conflicts could arise among co-op members. But an eviction was a serious action.

Maybe it had been nothing. Mariana was still living in the co-op, and Eddie was planning to move back. But I was still curious.

Dave and Jeremy had both suggested I talk to Cara about the co-op history. I had been reluctant, but now it seemed like a good idea. I had no idea if she would be home. I knew she worked different shifts at the restaurant. But I thought it might be easier to just turn up at her door, rather than call and get put off.

I checked the co-op members' list to confirm her unit number and took the elevator down to her floor. Cara looked a little nervous when she answered her door, but I tried to look friendly.

“Hi, Cara,” I said, smiling. “Do you mind if I talk to you for a few minutes?”

“Um, sure,” she said, hesitantly. “Do you want to come in?”

Her unit was similar to mine but smaller. I could see only two bedroom doors leading off the hall and the living/dining area was smaller than in my unit. She didn't have the light our apartment got on the top floor. I was beginning to see why some co-op members resented the fact that we had moved into that unit.

I knew the co-op kept an internal waiting list of members wanting to move to a larger, smaller, or more desirable unit. But I also knew Les would have made sure a unit adapted for people in wheelchairs would have gone to someone who needed it.

“Is this about Dave?” Cara asked nervously. “You know he told me his marriage was over when we first met. I had no idea you were still together.”

Aha, so Dave
had
started dating Cara while we were still married.

“No, nothing like that,” I assured her. “Water under the bridge. Although you might want to consider that if you're serious about a relationship with him. If he cheated on me, well . . .

“But no, it's about the co-op. Both Dave and Jeremy told me you grew up here. I thought it might be interesting to talk to you about growing up in the co-op, and what it's like to raise your own family here as an adult.”

“Oh, sure. Well, I've never lived anywhere but the co-op, so I don't really have anything to compare it to. But it was a nice place to live as a kid. I mean, you must know that with your son. All the kids in the playground have a great time together. I know you've been going through some of the files from the co-op, but I think I have some old pictures in my mom's things you might be interested in. I could get them out for you to look at.”

She was smiling at the memories. “We did have some great times here,” she said. “We always had a big Christmas party and Santa came. I was always so excited. I remember one year when I was really little and all I wanted was a tricycle. And then Santa came to the co-op party and brought me this brand-new pink trike, with sparkly streamers on the handles. I was so thrilled I was almost afraid to ride it in case I damaged it or got it dirty.

“I didn't realize until years later that Santa was really Les dressed up in a costume. And my mom told me that year my family had hardly any money. My dad had been really sick and wasn't working. And the co-op and some of the members chipped in to get me the tricycle I had my heart set on. Because I kept saying that Santa was going to bring me a trike for Christmas, and they didn't want me to be disappointed.

“That was really sweet, wasn't it? I haven't thought about that Christmas in years. I guess that's a good story to put in the co-op's history, isn't it?”

“That's exactly the kind of story I'm looking for. But I guess things aren't always perfect around here. I heard that your family had filed a complaint against Eddie Cole and were asking for Mariana and Eddie to be evicted. I guess there are stories of conflict to go along with the wonderful times, aren't there?”

I'd asked the question out of overwhelming curiosity. But I was shocked by Cara's reaction. She went dead white, and I thought for a moment she was going to faint. She started to shudder as she looked at me.

“Oh, Eddie Cole. Mariana keeps saying he's coming home. But he won't if I have anything to do with it. When Mariana started saying she couldn't move to a smaller unit because Eddie and her grandson were coming home, I told Les he better tell her to move. Because Eddie Cole is moving back to this housing co-op over my dead body.”

She was still shaking but her small chin was set in determination. “I thought about moving out myself, when Mariana first started talking about Eddie coming back. I've got my daughter to protect. But I've lived here all my life, and I don't want to be driven out by the likes of him. There are other kids in the co-op and other people who would be in danger if he moved back.

“So I talked to Les, and he said the board could probably keep Eddie out if we could show that his behavior would be detrimental to the co-op. Even though he'd be living with Mariana and she's lived here for years. Les was going to look up the old complaint, so he'd have some documentation.

“What was that complaint about?” I pressed her. I could tell she was very upset, and I was being unpardonably rude, but I couldn't resist my curiosity.

“From the time I was about eleven Eddie Cole kept trying to touch me,” she said. “At first I thought it was just accidental. You know, bumping into me when we were all playing basketball and touching my breast by accident. But then it became clear he was deliberately groping me whenever he got the chance. I tried to avoid him, but he caught me alone in the hall one time and tried to drag me into the stairwell of the fire escape. He pushed me down and was trying to pull my shorts off. I don't want to think about what he would have done if one of the neighbors hadn't come out of her apartment and heard us.

“Eddie tried to pretend we were just goofing around, but the neighbor could see how upset I was. I ran away, but she must have said something to my mother because Mom asked me if Eddie was bothering me. That's when I told her. I think I would have been too scared to say anything otherwise.”

I was horrified. “Mariana always speaks so warmly about her son. But he sounds like a bully, at the very least.”

Cara shuddered again. The memory was still very painful after all these years. “I know he used to beat up some of the kids in the co-op. And I think he used to hurt some of the co-op pets. Eddie Cole was much more than a bully,” she said.

“But did your family pursue the complaint? I couldn't find anything more about it in the files. And Mariana's still here.”

“No. That was right around the time my dad got really sick. He'd been sick off and on all my life but he really started going downhill right then. It was just before he died. So my mom didn't really have the energy to pursue the complaint. I'm sure she would have if Eddie had still been around. But right after that he got arrested for the first time, and he was in a juvenile detention center, so I didn't have to worry about him.”

“Arrested for the
first
time?” I asked. “He's been arrested more than once?”

“Eddie's a career criminal,” Cara said. “He started dealing drugs to other kids in high school, and that's mainly what his arrests have been for—drug trafficking. I haven't kept track of all his convictions—so long as I know he's in jail, that's all I care about—but I believe he's been charged with assault and armed robbery. I think the sentence he's serving right now is for manslaughter. I don't know why it wasn't murder. He beat this guy to death with a metal pipe. But it was another drug dealer, and I think his lawyer persuaded the judge that it was a fight that got out of control.

“I know he had some kind of alibi but I'm absolutely convinced Eddie murdered Jessie Anderson.”

“But Amy also disappeared,” I protested. “Surely he wouldn't kill his own sister.”

“Amy Cole was his stepsister. Her dad married Mariana and adopted Eddie when he was little, and Amy was even younger. But I don't think it would have mattered if she
was
his real sister. I don't have any proof, but I'd bet Amy was the first girl he molested.

“Besides, what do you mean 'kill his sister'? Amy's not dead. She's in Toronto.”

I looked at her, stunned. “Amy's not dead? But the newspaper said she disappeared the same time as Jessie.”

“Sure she did. And for a while we all thought she might be dead. Our parents wouldn't really talk to us about what had happened. I remember we were all kind of scared, and we thought Amy had been killed too. But eventually she got in touch with one of her friends here, and then we all found out she was okay.”

“But Mariana never mentions her. She talks about her son all the time but never mentions Amy.”

“Well, Amy was her stepdaughter. Mariana and Amy's dad got together when Amy was little so Mariana raised her. But we all know the wicked stepmother stories. My daughter hates my ex's new girlfriend. And your Ben's quite ready to correct anyone who thinks I'm his mother when I go out with him and Dave.”