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Authors: Alison Gordon

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BOOK: Prairie Hardball
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Chapter 14

Andy was still inside the building when the first policemen arrived on the scene, a pair of uniformed officers, one burly, one slim, both impossibly young.

“What are you doing here?” the big one asked.

“Just securing the scene and waiting for you,” he said.

“You’ll have to go outside,” said the partner. “God knows what you’ve messed up.”

Andy didn’t bother to introduce himself, just smiled and stepped outside the door to wait for Inspector Digby.

“What’s going on?” he asked Andy when he got there.

“Virna Wilton. She’s dead. Probable strangulation.”

“Did you touch anything?”

“I checked for signs of life, then got out of the way.”

Digby nodded and grunted his approval.

“Don Deutsch is on his way with some of his people. I’m going to have to call in the medical examiner and the boys from the Identification unit. On a Sunday, no less.”

He ran his hand over his brush cut wearily.

“I’m closing off the scene. Constable Resnick here will control the door.” He turned to the bigger constable. “You know the drill, Dewey.”

“Yes, sir. Everyone signs in and out, with time and reason for being here. No exceptions.”

“And since you’re just another civilian in this jurisdiction,” Digby said to Andy, “I’m afraid you have no reason to be here at the moment.”

“I understand.”

“No offence.”

“None taken. If I can be of any help, let me know.”

Displaced, he left the building and came over to where I was sitting on the grass with Jack, who had his head in his hands.

“I’m sorry about your mother,” Andy said, sitting beside him.

Jack looked at him blankly.

“Thank you,” he said, finally.

“Can we get out of here, Andy?” I asked. “Can we go back to the hotel? These people shouldn’t have to wait in the sun.”

“We’ll have to stay until they tell us what to do,” he said.

“Is it going to take long? Poor Meg Deneka barely knows where she is.”

“It will take as long as it takes. You know that, Kate.”

“Maybe if you explained to them,” I said.

“I’m just another witness here, remember. I’m sure they want us out of the way as much as we do. Be patient.”

“Can you just tell me what happened?” Jack asked Andy.

Andy has had a lot of experience at this sort of thing, talking to victims’ relatives, and he’s good at it. I knew enough to get up and leave them alone. A uniformed constable stopped me when I tried to get into the hall.

“I need to speak with Inspector Digby,” I said.

“You have to wait for him to come out.”

A man carrying a medical bag came up.

“Morning, Dewey,” he said, cheerfully. “Another Sunday shot to hell.”

“Sign in, Doc. Inspector’s inside.”

The doctor signed a log book. The constable carefully noted the time in and the reason for the visit in the space provided. I walked back to where my parents were standing, watching the police put up crime-scene tape. There were half a dozen in uniform. Other investigators arrived carrying cameras and other crime-scene equipment. Each signed in before entering the building. The press arrived, including a film crew, but they were kept behind the yellow tape with the rest of the civilians. Half the town seemed to be there, from kids on tricycles to seniors with walkers. They gawked at us as if we were the Sunday morning entertainment.

Staff Sergeant Morris arrived, with a guy wearing a jacket and tie with jeans. I intercepted them before they got to the door.

“Sergeant Morris, I need your help,” I said. He stopped.

“Please, can we get these witnesses back to the hotel? These are elderly people who have had a terrible shock.”

“We’ll see what we can do,” Morris said, not unkindly. “It’s up to Sergeant Deutsch, here, who will be in charge of the investigation. This is Kate Henry, Don. She’s the daughter of one of the women ballplayers, and Inspector Munro’s friend.”

He gave me a glance and a perfunctory handshake.

“I’ll check out the scene and get back to you,” he said.

They both signed the log and disappeared inside.

I went back to Andy and Jack and sat down. Nothing was said until the thin constable approached us a few minutes later.

“Inspector Munro, Inspector Digby would like to speak with you, if you’ll come with me.”

Andy got up without a word and followed the constable inside the building, where he found Digby standing with Deutsch and Morris, watching the medical examiner at work on the corpse. They all shook hands.

“This is turning into a busman’s holiday for you,” Digby said.

“No, it’s your case,” Andy said. “You’re welcome to it.”

“As a matter of fact, we could use your help, if you don’t mind.”

Andy looked at the other two policemen. Morris smiled pleasantly. Deutsch looked at the ground, the muscle at the corner of his jaw working at his resentment.

“What sort of help?” Andy asked.

“I don’t have to tell you that we have to work very quickly on this one,” Digby said. “There are a lot of people to talk to, people who have plans to leave. We could use an extra hand, another pair of eyes and ears this afternoon, and you already know some of the women. Are you game?”

“Sure,” he said. “Glad to be of help.”

While Andy was being briefed, I was listening to Jack, trying, the best I could, to help him.

“She was going to call to make sure I was up in time this morning,” he said, tears running down his cheeks. “I thought she had forgotten, or saw how drunk I was last night and was teaching me a lesson. Or being kind.”

He wiped his eyes with the heels of his hands. His voice shook when he continued.

“She was so full of life last night. I can’t believe that was the last time I’m going to see her. I can’t believe she’s not going to walk out of that place, laughing. Like it’s all a great big joke. She loved jokes. She and Wilma were always playing practical jokes on each other.”

“I know how you must feel.”

He looked at me, his eyes red and bleak.

“You can’t know.”

I looked away.

“But thank you,” he said, and took my hand. We sat that way, him holding tightly to my hand, for the next five minutes.

Finally, Andy came out with Inspector Digby, who called us all together by the door.

“There’s no reason you all have to stay here,” Digby said. “Inspector Munro here has agreed to supervise your getting back to the hotel. I will request that you stay there until we have a chance to interview you this afternoon.”

“We were planning to check out today,” Bert Goodman complained. “We have a flight out of Saskatoon in the morning.”

“We will attempt to be as efficient as possible,” Digby said. “There should be officers there to take your statements within the hour.”

“That’s fine, Inspector,” Shirley Goodman said. “We don’t really have to leave tomorrow.”

She looked at her husband, who was about to object.

“For Pete’s sake, Bert, you’re retired. It’s not like you have anything to rush back for.”

Peter Deneka agreed to stay, as did my parents and Edna Summers. “I won’t leave until I know who did this terrible thing,” she said.

“Inspector,” Shirley Goodman said, “what about our safety? All of the Belles got the same crazy letters that Virna did. We could be next on the list. Are we going to have any protection?”

Digby stiffened a bit.

“We are aware of the letters,” he said. “Undoubtedly, they will figure in the investigation.”

“But what about us?” Shirley whined. “We need protection.”

“Just stay close to the hotel,” Digby said. “About the letters, if you have any with you, please turn them over to Inspector Munro, whom you can consider part of this investigation, even though he is not a member of our department.”

“But what if it’s one of us who did it?” Shirley said. We looked around uneasily.

“Shut up and get into the car,” Bert said. “Don’t you know when to keep your mouth shut?”

We nervously retraced our happier footsteps of earlier in the day back to our cars. The gawkers stepped aside to make way. The reporters rushed over to scrum Digby.

“Jack, you ride with us,” my father said. “Someone else can bring your car.”

“I’ll do it,” my mother said. Jack handed her his keys.

Edna pushed her walker slowly towards the Denekas’ van. Peter walked over to us.

“I have letters,” he said. “Meg doesn’t even know they came. I’ll get them to you as soon as we get to the hotel.”

We agreed to meet in the poolside café as soon as we had straightened out our room arrangements. Then we got into the little rental car, which had been parked in the sun. We rolled down the windows and turned on the fan, which wasn’t much help.

“What happens now?” I asked as we turned towards the highway.

“Right now, I have to set up an interview room. Digby says the hotel’s got a conference room they’ll let us use. Then it’s just the usual drill. This case is more complicated than some, because it involves so many potential witnesses, especially ones from out of town. We’ll get basic statements from everyone who was at the dinner last night. And home addresses so we can contact them later if needed. If I was in charge of the investigation, which I’m not, I would concentrate on her teammates, the ones who saw the most of her in the past few days.”

“She was with a bunch in the bar last night,” I said.

“I know. Can you put together a list?”

“I’ll check with my mother, or Edna. They can help with the ones I don’t know.”

“Get it to me as soon as you can. Especially the ones who stayed until the end.”

“Yeah. I didn’t notice, but I think Edna hung in, anyway.”

We turned into the parking lot.

“Do you mind getting involved?” I asked him.

“I don’t mind it half as much as Donald Deutsch does.”

“It’s like that, is it? You’ll have to use your famous tact, then.”

“I think I forgot to bring it on this trip.”

“Well, you were good with Jack back there.”

He turned off the engine.

“Well, I’m not a complete asshole. Not all the time, anyway.”

“Relatively seldom, if you must know.”

We got out of the car.

“But when you are,” I said, “you take all the prizes.”

Chapter 15

I intercepted my mother and Edna in the lobby, and explained about Andy’s need for the list of women who had been at the post-banquet party.

“If you can,” I said, “he wants to know who was there until the end and who left early.”

“I was one of the first to go,” my mother said.

“Don’t worry, Helen, I was one of the last,” Edna said. “Virna and I left at the same time.”

“I think this is urgent,” I said. “And confidential.”

“We’ll do it in my room, right away,” Edna said.

“Thanks. I’ll tell Daddy where you are.”

I went outside and lit a smoke while I waited for my father and Jack to arrive. A pickup truck pulled up near the hotel entrance where I stood and Garth Elshaw and Morley Timms got out.

“Is it true?” Morley asked. “About Virna?”

“I’m afraid so,” I said, then introduced myself to Garth Elshaw. He was dressed in work pants and a worn cotton shirt. He held a baseball cap in his hands. I was struck by his size and his dignity.

“How did it happen?” he asked.

I told him what little I knew.

“The police will be along to talk with anyone who saw her in the past few days,” I said.

Morley Timms was looking over my shoulder, twisting his round-brimmed sun hat in his big freckled hands. I turned and saw Jack and my father.

Timms stepped out to meet them.

“My condolences for the loss of your mother,” he said, formally, to Jack, who thanked him.

“It wasn’t her time yet,” Timms continued. “She was a woman in the prime of her life. It’s a terrible thing.”

He began to cry. Garth Elshaw stepped between his friend and Jack.

“Don’t mind Morley,” he said, softly. “He means well.”

“Why don’t we go inside,” I said. “No point standing out in the sun.”

Everyone turned towards the door, letting Jack go first. He went to the elevator. My father stepped up to him.

“Would you like me to come with you? Sometimes it helps to talk.”

“I just want to be alone for a while. I should make some calls, too. But thank you.”

My father put his hand on Jack’s shoulder.

“I’ll check on you in a little while.”

“Thank you.”

He stepped into the elevator, looking bleak and broken. The door closed.

“He’s pretty cut up,” Garth said.

“He’s had a bad blow,” Morley Timms said. He turned his hat in his hands, around and around, his fingers jittering at the brim. “It puts me in mind of some of the fellows during the war. Shell-shocked, we called it. Even strong young men. We saw our share, didn’t we, Garth?”

“I don’t think they want to hear about it, Morley,” he said.

“He was very close to his mother,” I said, thinking of our conversation of the night before. “And of course, he loved your sister, too. It’s as if he’s lost two mothers in six months. That would be hard for anyone.”

“He knew Wilma better than I did, at the end,” Elshaw said, with an undercurrent I couldn’t quite define. Bitterness? Or just sadness?

“Well, let’s not stand around out here,” my father said, briskly, breaking the tension. “I think a cup of coffee might be helpful to us all.”

“Good idea,” I said. “I have to go to the room for a minute, and then I’ll join you.”

I went and used the washroom, and was heading back down the stairs when I ran into Andy.

“Have you got things set up?” I asked.

“They’ve given us the conference room on the second floor for whatever we need. I’ve ordered the coffee.”

“What about donuts?” I asked. “Can’t have an investigation without donuts. Or do Mounties go for muffins?”

“You know their motto,” he said. “They always get their bran.”

I groaned.

“I’m on the way to the café by the pool,” I said. “That’s where most of the people are. I don’t think anyone wants to be alone.”

“Given the situation, I think that’s for the best. I don’t want anyone who received one of those letters on her own right now.”

“Jack’s gone to his room. He said he had to make some calls.”

“I’ll check in with him.”

“Daddy’s keeping an eye on him, too.”

We were in the lobby by then, and were joined by Edna and my mother, who handed Andy a piece of paper.

“These are the women who were in the bar. We’ve put ticks next to the names of the ones who were there until the end. And which one played with Virna on the Belles, or later, for the Fort Wayne Daisies. The ones we know about, anyway.”

Andy took it and looked at it.

“Good work,” he said. “Thanks,”

Edna was looking very upset.

“It was such a good time last night,” she said. “Just a bunch of gals talking about old times and laughing. You don’t think someone at that table killed her, do you?”

“Not necessarily, but the police want to talk to the last people who saw her alive,” Andy said.

“We weren’t the last people,” Edna said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“The murderer was,” she said.

Andy and I exchanged a quick look.

“One of us could be the murderer, Edna,” my mother said. “Don’t you see what it looks like? We all get together for the first time in more than forty years, and this happens. It could go back to when we knew each other before.”

“But why?” Edna asked. “She didn’t have enemies back then, that I know of. She was popular. She was the biggest star in the league.”

“What about jealousy?” I asked. “Because she got all the attention.”

“No one is going to kill her after all these years just because she got on the cover of
Life
magazine,” Edna said.

Andy held up the list they’d made.

“Someone here might have the answer,” he said.

My mother changed the subject by asking me about my father’s whereabouts.

“He’s in the café by the pool,” I said.

“That’s where we will go, then,” she said. “Come along, Edna, we must let Andy do his work.”

“I almost forgot,” Edna said, opening her purse.

She handed a familiar-looking envelope to Andy, who took it and gingerly pulled out the letter.

“It looks like the same handwriting,” he said.

“Same different-colour inks? Same underlining?”

“Some of the same phrases,” he said, showing me. “Is this the only one you got?”

“Yes, just last week,” Edna said. “Do you think it’s connected?”

“We certainly can’t rule it out.”

“I can’t believe someone I know could have written this,” Edna said, “let alone killed Virna.”

“You’d be surprised,” I said. “I’ve met several perfectly pleasant murderers in my day.”

“Yes, Kate attracts murderers the way other people attract mosquitoes,” Andy said.

“He’s exaggerating,” I said.

“That’s why I hang out with her,” Andy continued. “She makes sure I’ll never be out of work.”

“Cops have a strange sense of humour,” I explained after he left.

BOOK: Prairie Hardball
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