A Striking Death (7 page)

nineteen

Visibly angry, Mike Bailey was in Interview Room #2. On the monitor he could be seen fidgeting in his chair, glancing at his watch, looking for all the world like a caged tiger. Lori Singh was enjoying the sight even more than she had enjoyed picking him up. To be on the safe side, she had taken a couple of uniforms to the construction site. Mike Bailey had come along reluctantly but not quietly.

“I told you everything last time!” Bailey was angry.

“Just a few more questions, Mr. Bailey. Won’t take long.” Lori had raised an eyebrow at him and waited. She was prepared to detain him and Bailey obviously knew it because he had gotten into the back of the patrol car without too much more argument. And now here he was, waiting impatiently.

Lori watched Drumm enter the room and introduce himself. She adjusted the volume so she could hear better and sat on the edge of a desk to watch. She sensed movement behind her and turned to see Detective McDonald enter the room. He gave her a mock salute and put his finger to his lips when she opened her mouth to question him. He pointed to the monitor and gave her a cheeky grin and took up a position beside her with his arms crossed in front of him.

Lori switched her attention back to Drumm who was going over the same questions she had asked Bailey the day before. Drumm was getting the same answers and Bailey was becoming more agitated with each question. Drumm had to ask the big man several times to calm down. The detective didn’t seem bothered by the tradesman’s truculence. Lori leaned forward as Drumm began a new line of questioning.

“Do you own a gun, Mr. Bailey?”

“A gun! Of course I don’t! Why would you ask that?”

“You asked Detective Singh if Arthur Billinger had been shot. I wondered.” Drumm sat calmly, watching the other man.

“I don’t own a gun! I don’t know why I said that. Besides, he was beaten to death, wasn’t he?”

“He was. With a baseball bat. Do you own one of those, maybe?”

Bailey’s neck was starting to get red, Lori noticed. She looked over at McDonald who had a huge grin on his face. He saw her glance and winked. She switched her attention back to the interview room.

“I don’t have a bat! For Chrissakes I’m a drywaller. I don’t have time for baseball,” Bailey said.

“You sure? We can check on that.” Bailey started to speak but Drumm went on. “Never mind. Did you
ever
play baseball? In school maybe?”

Bailey stared at him. “In high school, sure. That was years ago.”

Drumm said, “You’re a big man – I bet you could really hit.”

“You’re nuts! Because I played baseball in school, you think I killed Billinger? You’re out of your mind!”

“Not just because of that, no. Arthur Billinger was gay and you made it clear you didn’t like him. So here’s what I think. He bothered you. He bothered you more and more all the time. You kept running into him on the street, with that faggoty walk of his, and his funny way of talking. He spoke to you one time too many and you decided to do for him. One less queer in the world, right Mr. Bailey?”

Bailey was shaking his head. “You’ve got a helluva imagination, I’ll say that. I didn’t like him but I didn’t kill him. And you can’t prove I did because I didn’t!” This last word was shouted in a loud voice.

Lori turned to McDonald. “He’s telling the truth, isn’t he?”

“Oh yes, love, I’d say so.” McDonald had stopped smiling. “I imagine Nick knows that too.”

Drumm joined them a few moments later. “It’s about time you showed up, Dick.” He stared hard at McDonald, and then switched his gaze to Lori. “When he’s calmed down, you can release him.”

She said, “It wasn’t him, was it? That was genuine surprise he was showing.”

“Oh, yes,” Drumm said. “Not only that – did you see the size of his feet? He’s got to be a 13 at least. No way he made those footprints we found in the yard.”

“Why go after him so hard then, Nick?” asked McDonald.

Drumm stared at him. “He deserved it. I don’t like gay bashers. Even if it’s just verbal bashing.” He paused. “Let’s meet in my office in a few minutes. I need a pee.”
 

“Where have you been, Dick?” Drumm was seated at his desk. He’d had his bathroom break, checked his blood sugar again.

McDonald was also seated. For once he seemed a little subdued. “I was on assignment for Chappell. Nothing special.” Before Drumm could ask the inevitable next question, McDonald went on, “He asked me to keep it quiet.” His thin face was carefully blank as he watched Drumm’s reaction.

Drumm looked at him for a minute, and then sighed. “Fine. Let’s get everyone up to speed here. Lori?”

“We’ve basically turned up nothing suspicious on anybody. Aside from a few parking tickets for Bailey, nobody has a record at all. We’ve checked phone records for Billinger, Garmand, Daniel Levine and Mike Bailey and there’s nothing out of the ordinary.” Lori had undone her hair, Drumm noticed, and she was absentmindedly smoothing it as she spoke. “There’s nothing suspicious there at all for any of them. Same for the financials. Arthur Billinger was well off; he didn’t need to be working. That’s clear, just like Levine said. No mortgage, credit cards paid off, healthy bank accounts with no large withdrawals or anything unusual at all.” Lori shrugged in frustration. “Just a boring old retired teacher, it looks like.”

“And yet someone killed him, love,” said McDonald.

Singh glared at him but said nothing.

“What about the others?” Drumm asked.

“Same thing. Cameron Garmand, another absolutely squeaky-clean retired teacher. Good pension, not much debt, everything routine. Our friend Mr. Bailey needs to work: he’s got a mortgage and a big line of credit. But he pays his bills on time. Again, nothing unusual. Same for Levine, although he is just making ends meet, it seems. That bookstore of his doesn’t earn much money.”

McDonald said, “Just wondering, Levine and Billinger were lovers. Would Levine stand to inherit, do you think? Have we come across Billinger’s will?”

Drumm said, “Not yet. Good point, Dick. We’ll check on it.” He waited to see if there was more from Lori, and then said, “OK, so in essence we have a dead old man and not much idea of why he was killed.” He looked at the two of them for a rebuttal which was not forthcoming. “Maybe it was because he was gay, but if so, we don’t have a real suspect. And maybe it was because he was killed as the result of an argument. Although, if that was true, why was he done in bed? It doesn’t fit. It’s time we got Levine in here. Dick, go and get him.” He looked at his watch. “His store will be closing soon, anyway. We’ll order in some food and then question him.”

twenty

Daniel Levine was not at all happy to be sitting in the York Police Services interview room. McDonald said that Levine had protested strenuously, had, in fact, only come along when told it would look like he had something to hide if he didn’t.

Drumm introduced Lori Singh to the portly bookstore owner and apologized for the inconvenience. “I know you don’t want to be here. We just need to ask a few more questions.”

“I don’t know what those could be. I told you everything this morning.”

Drumm said, “Perhaps. Earlier you said that you and Arthur Billinger were lovers, that you wanted the two of you to live together. Do I have that right?”

“That’s right, yes. But Art wanted to live by himself.”

“And how did that make you feel?”

Levine shrugged. “I was fine with it, Detective. I had to be, didn’t I? It was what he wanted.”

Drumm asked, “Did you argue about it?”

“Of course we did, a little bit. I was disappointed. I said some things I wish I hadn’t.” Levine was looking upset. “I’d give a lot to be able to take them back now.”

Lori spoke for the first time. “How bad were these arguments, Mr. Levine?”

Levine switched his attention to Singh. “How bad were they? What do you mean?”

Lori said, “I mean, was there shouting? Swearing at each other? Pushing or hitting? Anything like that?”

Levine’s shoulders sagged. He looked like he was about to cry. “No, nothing like that. And we didn’t argue often. The worst time, I may have said something like, ‘If you love me, you’d want to stay with me.’ I don’t remember exactly what I said.”

“I only ask because we have a witness who says she heard you raising your voice and arguing with Mr. Billinger. It’s not unreasonable to assume that it might have escalated into something more serious.” Lori sat back and crossed her legs. She had her notebook out and her pen at the ready. “Did it?”

“To assume….? Who is this witness anyway?” Levine was agitated. “Did it escalate?” He started to stand up. “You think I killed Art?”

For a big man, Drumm was fast. He was on his feet with his hand raised before Levine could get to his feet. “Sit down. Nobody’s saying anything like that. These are just routine questions.” He glanced at Lori.

Levine slumped back into his chair. “I can’t believe this.” The bookstore owner looked weary. There were dark bags under his eyes, as if he hadn’t slept well. His clothes were looking much more rumpled than they had before, Drumm noticed. He needed a shave.

“Let’s take a break,” Drumm said, standing up. “Lori, would you mind getting us some refreshments? Mr. Levine’s had a long day. I’m sure he could use some coffee. I know I could.”

Singh nodded and quietly left the room.

Drumm said, “Come on. Let’s take a stroll.” Levine rose wearily to his feet and followed Drumm out into the hallway. The detective led the way to a stairwell, up a flight of concrete steps and out through a steel door with a handwritten sign that said, “Kew Gardens”. They emerged onto the roof of the building.

“I come up here sometimes for solitude,” said Drumm. There were two green tables with patio chairs and umbrellas. Around the edges of the space were rectangular gardens. Tall grasses competed with bushes and some dying petunias and marigolds for room. “This was an environmental initiative a few years ago. You know, one of those projects to turn an ugly roof into a usable green spot. It looks better in the summer.”

Drumm went over to the edge of the roof and pointed to the south. “On a good day, you can see the CN Tower from here. Too dark to make it out right now, though.” Then he turned to Levine. “I’m sorry we have to put you through this. Believe me, if it weren’t necessary, we wouldn’t do it. Sit down, relax for a bit. I’ll bring the coffee up.”

Levine nodded and sank gratefully into one of the patio chairs.

As Drumm left, he saw the bookstore owner lean over and put his head in his hands.

Drumm found Lori standing in the hallway outside the interview room with a tray in her hands, looking puzzled. She raised an eyebrow when she saw him. “Garden,” he said. He took the tray from her. “We’ll be back down in a few minutes.”

When Drumm returned carrying the refreshments, he stopped dead. Daniel Levine was right over at the edge of the roof, leaning way over, looking down. They were only three floors up but still…there was only a small railing separating him from a nasty drop to the parking lot below. Drumm put the tray down in a rush, spilling the coffee, and strode over to Levine. “Daniel!”

Levine turned quickly and lost his balance, looking startled. Drumm, reaching him, grabbed Levine’s arm to steady him. “Careful! Don’t want to lose you!” He let go and looked at the man carefully. Reassured by Levine’s expression, he led the way back to the table. “I’m afraid I spilled the coffee.”

“Doesn’t matter,” said Levine. “Doesn’t matter at all.” He sat down and picked up a cup, exhaustion apparent in his every movement. He said nothing for several minutes, the silence gathering along with the evening. He looked at Drumm. “We’re not done yet, are we? What else is she going to ask me? I don’t have anything else to say.”

“We’re just trying to learn as much as we can about your friend,” said Drumm. “Every little piece of information helps. Shall we go back down?”

Lori Singh was waiting for them back in the interview room. She stood up as she heard them approaching. Levine slumped wearily back into his chair.

“Let’s get this over with,” he said. “I have to get out of here.”

Lori sat down. She said, “This morning you told Detective Sergeant Drumm that Arthur Billinger had other things going on in his life, other people.” This last part she read from her notebook. She looked directly at Levine. “We need you to expand on that. Who did you mean?”

“He had other friends, former colleagues, that kind of thing.” But Levine’s eyes slid away from Singh’s and Drumm again had the sense that the bookstore owner was being evasive.

“Don’t you get it, Daniel?” Drumm was exasperated. “We need names. Who are these people? Your friend was brutally murdered. One of these mysterious people you keep referring to might be involved. Can’t you see? It looks like you’re protecting someone.”

“I’m not protecting anyone! I just don’t know who they are. I didn’t want to know.” He paused and ran his hand back over his thinning hair. “He had a regular weekly date at Tim Hortons for coffee. Cameron Garmand would always go and there were other people there, but I don’t know who. I couldn’t go because of the store. Didn’t want to anyway. Who’d want to sit with a bunch of teachers reminiscing about old times?”

“Mr. Levine, did you have a monogamy agreement with Art?” Lori asked. “I mean, some gay couples do, some don’t.”

Levine shook his head. “No, no we didn’t. I thought about bringing it up with Art but I never did.”

“So Art could have had a bunch of other sexual partners, and not only would you not have known, you both would have been okay with that?” Lori was skeptical.

Levine looked miserable. “He wouldn’t have done that. And no, I wouldn’t have been okay with that.”

Drumm asked, “What about this bar – Danny’s, I think you said – where you met Mr. Billinger? Did he still go there? By himself? Or with you, for that matter?”

Levine put his head in his hands. “Yes,” he said quietly.

“Which?” Drumm asked.

Levine looked up. “Which what?”

“Did he go to Danny’s with you or by himself?” Drumm was leaning forward, impatient.

Levine looked unhappy. “Both, I think.” His voice was low, almost inaudible. “We were there together on a few occasions. One time….”

“Speak up, please,” Lori said. “One time…?”

Levine spoke more loudly. “One time we were having drinks there after work. A Saturday night, I think it was. There was a guy sitting at another table by himself. He kept glancing over at us. At Art, I mean. He obviously wasn’t looking at me. I asked Art about it later. He denied knowing him. I think he did, though.”

“Why do you say that?” asked Lori.

Levine sighed. “It was just this guy’s manner. It seemed obvious to me he was interested in Art. Maybe surprised to see him with someone else.”

Drumm said, “But Art said he didn’t know him. And you didn’t believe him. You thought maybe they’d met there before, is that it?”

Levine sat up straight. “Yes. That’s why I think Art had gone to Danny’s without me.”

“How long ago was this?” asked Lori.

“About three or four weeks ago, maybe? I can’t remember.”

That would agree with what Mrs. Stephens had said about an argument, thought Drumm. Aloud he asked, “What did this fellow look like?”

Levine said, “It was a month ago! Do you really expect me to remember?”

Lori said, “Try, please. What was he wearing?”

“A suit and tie, I think.”

“Height? Weight?”

“I don’t know. He was sitting down. Average, I guess.”

“Hair colour?”

Levine looked puzzled, and then smiled briefly. “I just remembered. He hardly had any. His head was mostly shaved. What he had was grey.”

“So he was an older man?” asked Lori.

“In his forties, maybe.”

Drumm said, “You’re doing very well. Do you remember anything else? Anything distinctive about him? Tattoos, jewellery, accent?”

“I didn’t hear him speak. But he had a stud in his ear. It sparkled in the light, so maybe it was a diamond.” He thought for a few seconds. “His right ear it was. But that’s it, I can’t think of anything else. And I have to get home. It’s been a tough day.”

Drumm said, “Yes, that’s enough for today.” He stood and accompanied Levine out into the corridor. “Are you planning on leaving the city at all? If so, please let us know before you go.”

Levine shook his head tiredly. “You think it was me, don’t you? No, don’t bother to deny it.” He walked slowly down the hallway and said over his shoulder, “Don’t worry, I’ll be around when you want to accuse me some more. I’m not planning on going anywhere at all.”

“One last thing,” asked Lori. “What size shoes do you wear?”

Levine looked down at his shoes, then back up at the detective. “Ten,” he said. “Why?”

“Just routine,” said Lori.

Back in the office, Drumm said, “What do you think? Murderer? Grieving lover?”

“Well, his distress seems genuine enough. But I don’t know about this bald, diamond-studded guy in Danny’s.” Lori yawned behind her hand. “Do you think he’s real? First Levine couldn’t remember anything, and then we get a pretty good description. Seems too good to be true.”

“We’ll get over to Danny’s tomorrow and see if anyone there can confirm that this guy exists.” Drumm yawned too. “Something happened up on the roof, Lori. When I went up with the coffee, he was right over at the edge, looking down. It looked like he was getting ready to jump. I thought he
was
going to jump. I moved him back from there in a hurry.”

“You think he’s suicidal?” Lori was surprised.

“I don’t know. Could be.”

“Well, if he is, why, do you think? From guilt, or is he just upset over the loss of his partner?”

“I don’t know. But I’m not ruling him out as a suspect. He certainly had a reason to be mad at him.”

“Maybe,” said Lori. “But I’m not convinced.”