Gary Celdom Case Journals Anthology, page 19
I turned to Karen, who was sitting beside Phil, and added, “Unfortunately, there are times when I can never convince the harshest critics.”
Karen returned one of the meanest death stares in my direction for my little quip at her expense.
Chapter 5
Phil excused himself to use the restroom facilities, and I used the time to write Jessica a text message. I asked how she was fairing with her canvassing of the pawn shops near Regent Park. As I waited for her reply, Karen let me have it for my earlier cheap shot.
“Was that really called for?”
“What? You’ve busted my balls over some of the decisions I’ve made over the years.”
“Yes, but that’s usually when it’s just you and me talking to each other. I don’t appreciate the fact you were making a backhanded statement about me to someone else.”
“You were flaming Elaine when I was describing her to Phil just now. How is that different from what I said to him about you?”
“I was voicing my opinion of that skank, and I am entitled to it. You, on the other hand, referred to me as someone who is highly critical, and doesn’t sway from their opinion.”
“Excuse me? I didn’t imply that at all. I could have alluded to anyone in particular; whether it might be a higher-up, the media, or someone else.”
“Be it as it may, you were looking straight at me when you made that comment. So, you were obviously objecting to my views and opinions of various facets of your life.”
I was about to continue our argument when my phone beeped with Jessica’s response. She wrote, “Visited a couple of stores, nothing yet. On my way to a place on Church Street; hope luck changes. Will let you know if something turns up.”
I took a deep, calming breath, and attempted to smooth things over with Karen; who looked ready to tear me a new one.
“You’re right. I was out of line for implying you’re someone who never waivers from your opinions. I apologize for that. I know you do it because you still care about me, and I appreciate that. I still care about you too. But, you know how I get when I’m repeatedly criticized of the same thing over and over again. I get frustrated to the point where I end up lashing out at those who constantly ride my ass.”
“I know, dear. I should apologize too for harping on Elaine again. You know I don’t care for her; I never have, and I never will. When I first observed you and her together, something about her didn’t sit right with me. I felt she was trying to take advantage of you; something that was evident when she came to visit you last year for the Caribbean Carnival and your fiftieth. I know how hurt you were when she broke up with you originally, and I didn’t want her to open up any old wounds when she came back into your life.”
The expression on my face turned into a solemn one. I remembered back to the events. Two years after she broke up with me over the phone, Elaine travelled to Toronto with the guy she ditched me for -- a fellow Barbadian who went by the name of Carlito -- to attend the annual Caribbean Carnival. That year’s event happened to take place a few days before my fiftieth birthday. Karen suspected the secondary reason for Elaine’s sojourn to Toronto was to flaunt her new beau in my face; a theory I dismissed because I didn’t think Elaine would be that callous. However, it seemed like every time I ran into Elaine during her vacation, she dragged Carlito along like a show pony. At least she did until the final Saturday of the festival.
The Carnival parade was known to be a magnet for violence, and that year’s edition was no different. A gunman who had been playing havoc during the festival decided to make the parade his last stand. Jessica and I were able to apprehend the suspect, but not before a barrage of shots rang out amongst the crowd who gathered along the route. There were a few people who were caught in the crossfire; one of them happened to be Carlito, who later succumbed to his wounds. Elaine was distraught when her new beau was gunned down. Since I happened to be on the scene, I was charged with being the officer to comfort and console her during her loss. I was reluctant at first, given our previous history, but it was something the commanding officer suggested I do. I did my best to be the shoulder for Elaine to cry upon; however, for some reason – probably because she was still upset over her loss – she mistook my compassion as a sign that I still cared for her. I guess that’s what prompted her to invite me out to dinner the night of my actual birthday.
Looking back, I found it a little ironic at how the night came about. Jessica and I had only became partners down at the Division nine months prior to my birthday, and now Detective Amerson is the woman I’m spending my spare time with in a romantic capacity. Mind you, on that early August evening in 2011, I didn’t know then what Jessica and I would become one year later. Then again, neither did Elaine; which explains why she made her proposition. I don’t know if it was because Elaine realized she was now alone, or the fact I was there for her in her time of need. Karen seemed to believe Elaine lost her bargaining chip, and was hoping to screw with my head on a more direct one-on-one level. Whatever the reason, the night I celebrated “The Big 5-0” the Barbadian temptress attempted to sink her talons back into me, and asked if I would be open to rekindling the long- distance relationship I previously had with her.
Karen was in my ear during the days between Carlito’s death and my fête; begging me not to fall for such a ploy should Elaine make the attempt. It would turn out to be one of the countless of times I listened to the ghostly voice of reason. I told Elaine I was flattered by her request; however, I was cognizant of the fact she had not completely healed from the untimely demise of Carlito, and was only looking to me for a rebound relationship. Despite how I might have appeared on the exterior, Karen’s constant presence was the proof I needed to make me realize I was never over her assassination two decades before. I explained my dilemma to Elaine, in hopes she would understand the mental and emotional battle I was fighting inside. However, the waitress was not as compassionate to me as I had been to her. Elaine threw her drink into my face, accused me of leading her on, and stormed out of the dinner she invited me to; leaving me to deal with the check. Needless to say, I haven’t seen, nor heard from Elaine since the night of my fiftieth. Karen believes it was for the better; however, the entire situation made me begin to re-evaluate things within my life. I started seeing the Police psychiatrist, Ann Knoblach, after Elaine broke up with me in November 2009. After the festival, my sessions with Ann became more frequent, and I’m thankful they were. Chances are I would have to schedule another talk with Ann after my interview with Phil to help deal with the revisiting of all these memories.
I comforted Karen, “It’s alright, dear. Recollecting about this case is bringing back a lot of bad memories for both of us. However, I am glad we’re able to talk this out with each other.”
“I’m glad too. It’s reassuring to know after all of this time, we still keep the bonds of communication open; despite our occasional disagreement from time-to-time.”
Phil returned from doing his business, and noticed I looked a little downtrodden. “Is everything alright there, Gary?” he asked.
“Yeah, everything’s cool. I was just thinking back to everything that happened between Elaine and me over the years. There’s a lot of memories; some good, some bad.”
“We can stop the interview if you’d like.”
“No, no, we can continue. It’s something I experience on the odd occasion. Besides, you need to finish your research for your upcoming novel.”
“That I do. So, let’s get back to where we are with the case.”
I took another sip of what was left of my cappuccino, and readied myself for any further questions; knowing I had the unwavering support of a woman who had been by my side for years.
Phil resumed, “Now, when we left off, you had gotten into a fight at the Burnt Sienna – where you first met Elaine – and you and Detective Creole were on your way back to the Precinct to report to Lieutenant Walters about the altercation. I’m presuming he was not impressed with your actions.”
“No, he definitely wasn’t. Lieutenant Walters gave the two of us a dressing down. He cited there was a couple hundred dollars’ worth of damage to the establishment, and I had behaved unprofessionally in the way I defended Elaine’s honor. I told the Lieutenant I would take full responsibility for the incident, but that didn’t do much to soothe his disposition.”
“He let you have it, didn’t he?”
“Did he ever; the Lieutenant said, ‘that might be the way you do things in Canada, but down here we do not draw our firearms over a bar scuffle.’ He told me I needed to clean up my act, or he was going to ship me back to Toronto, and they would handle the case themselves.”
“Where was Detective Creole to defend you in this chewing out? Did he get told off too?”
“Indeed, he did. Creole explained to his superior he was interviewing the Manager of the establishment at the time I went toe-to-toe with the unruly patron, and it broke up by the time he was able to intervene.”
“I bet both of you were smarting over that reaming by the Lieutenant.”
“We were, but I was able to lessen the severity of it by noting the murder occurred near Rob’s hotel, and suggested Detective Creole and I canvass the other clients staying there to see if they had any information. It was an offer which satisfied Lieutenant Walters, and he suggested we get on it right away. Needless to say, we got out of his office before he changed his mind and decided to blast us even more.”
“Good move. So, you made your way out to your car, and proceeded to drive back to the same hotel you were staying at.”
“We did; on our way back to the car, Creole asked me if I was always reckless back here in Toronto. I denied the accusation; stating it only happened on a rare occasion. It was at this point Rob’s ghost popped up, and called bullshit on my claim.”
“So, Rob’s ghost decided to give you the gears too?”
“He attempted to. I tried to play it off on Creole, asking him if he heard something. My partner told me it was only the two of us there, and chalked it up to me being tired after the long flight, as well as, me getting into the scuffle at the Sienna. He suggested I go to bed; we’d interview the residents first thing in the morning. I took his advice, and we went our separate ways for the evening.”
“That was a good idea. You were worn out after everything that had happened.”
“Anyway, I got into my rental car, and who’s sitting in the backseat ready to childe me again, but Rob’s specter.”
“He didn’t want to let it go, eh?”
“I guess not. As soon as I shut the car door, he started on me; saying I had gotten soft at my old age. I told him to back off because I had a long day. He countered by saying I had a ton of free time to rest during the flight down there. I attempted to defend myself by saying that the seats on the plane aren’t the most comfortable.”
Phil and I discussed the lack of legroom on air flights in general, and how they would be unbearable on longer haul flights. I brought the conversation back to my story. “Anyway,” I resumed, “after continuing to argue and debate with Rob the entire drive back to the hotel, I got back to my room, and climbed into bed. However, I couldn’t sleep very soundly; my mind was racing.”
“Because you were thinking of Rob and Elaine, correct?”
“There was that and the sneaking suspicion where I believed I would end up dealing with the guy I battled with in the bar again before I left the island.”
Chapter 6
Our conversation switched to the topic of Phil’s friend, Natalie. I had met her during the Northern Winds convention Phil and I reunited at. Things were on shaky ground between the two friends as they got into a disagreement about Natalie’s personality style. It was an argument which almost proved costly for Phil and me, as the two of us found ourselves staring down the barrel of an assault rifle. To our relief, Jessica and her reinforcements showed up before we became two corpses on the hotel ballroom floor. However, in the aftermath of the incident, things were still rocky between Natalie and Phil. The two good friends had not spoken to each other since the convention. Was it because she took exception to the writer’s bluntness? Regardless, Phil told me he enjoyed the time apart because he had his fill of Natalie’s usual tactic to phone him up long- distance, and complain about everything in her life for a half-hour, if not longer.
It was then Phil confided in the creative slump he was suffering from at the time. He cited ‘real life’ had gotten in the way of his writing. Phil admitted it was a challenge to write a fresh project with the ‘50,000 words within 30 days’ parameters; yet, he still intended to participate in NoMo in a couple of months’ time. The writer realized we were getting sidetracked again, and brought the conversation back to the task at hand. He asked if I had any problems sleeping my first night in Barbados due to the various factors at hand: overtiredness, the case I was just commencing, and the typical ‘sleeping in a strange bed. I admitted one would think I would have had difficulties, but I still had a good, if not limited, night’s sleep.
I recollected, “We met in the hotel lobby ten minutes after I finished my breakfast. Creole and I went to the different units, quizzing the hotel guests about anything they might have seen the night Rob was murdered; avoiding Maureen’s room, for obvious reasons.”
“Were any of the patrons staying over helpful in any way?”
“Yes, there was a British couple; the O’Gregors, if memory serves me right. The husband and wife told us they were out on the beach the same night of the murder. They heard Maureen screaming for help, and saw a man scurrying away while rifling through a wallet. I asked them for a description of the male. Mrs. O’Gregor said the attacker stood about 5’10”, sported his hair in dreadlocks, had a thin, trimmed goatee, and wore cut-off jeans and a green tank top. She added the suspect threw something into the sea while he was making his escape; which perked my interest right up.”
“Really, was it the remaining contents of the wallet, or something more substantial?”
“It was substantial. Mrs. O’Gregor admitted she couldn’t make out the object from where she was, but it looked like the moonlight shone off of the object, as it sailed into the water.”
“Was it the possible murder weapon?”
“Based on her preliminary description, Creole and I believed it to be such. Creole continued the interview while I called the other detectives at the Precinct. I told them to comb the beach near the hotel, and we’d meet them there.”
“How long did it take before you were able to find the implement?” “I’d say about twenty minutes after the other detectives showed up.
Gardner found it buried underneath about six inches of wet sand. We were in the process of tagging and bagging the evidence when Creole’s phone rang. It was Kate from the morgue. Another body had been brought in, and I mused if it was done by the same guy who killed Rob. Creole and I drove back to the Precinct, while the other detectives combed the beach for any other clues. We turned the knife in to the Forensics Department head, Stan Kudrow.”
“Did he have any updates on Rob’s body? You know, fingerprints found and traced, or any DNA matches?”
“None at that point; they tended to get things done at a slower pace down there. I don’t know if it was because of their lab technology is a step behind of how it is up here, or what. Regardless, we asked Kudrow run some tests on the knife, and to let us know if he found anything.”
“I hope he was able to return with his findings before the guy who killed Rob struck again.”
“It was too late for that. After Creole and I dropped off the evidence, we headed straight to the morgue to check out the new cadaver Dr. Nevis had for us. She showed us the corpse of the murder victim we were notified of when we found the knife. Dr. Nevis told us he died from the same causes that Rob did: stabbed in the back with a different 3-inch bladed knife; lacerating the victim’s kidneys in the process. As I looked down at the lifeless body, I asked her if we had a positive ID. Dr. Nevis told me his name was David Cummings, an American in his 40’s.”
“Two tourists mugged and murdered within a short period. That’s not the type of publicity the Barbadian tourism industry would want.”
Phil and I recollected about a case from two years before where a couple from a Toronto suburb was murdered while vacationing at a Mexican resort. We couldn’t believe the resort staff covered up the incident by destroying the crime scene while it was being caught on a cell phone’s video footage. The resort was found not libel, but Phil and I agreed it was a miscarriage of justice. Karen appeared again to clear her throat. She tapped her wrist, and told me to get on with my story.
“Anyway, Creole asked Dr. Nevis if there was any possibility we could conclude the same guy killed both Rob and this Cummings bloke. She told us she would have to collaborate with Kudrow to see if the same prints turned up. Dr. Nevis told us she’d contact us if she found anything.
However, based on preliminary results, she wouldn’t be surprised if there was a connection.”
