Mann Hunt, page 11
“And you never suspected that Ian knew about this relationship?”
“No.”
“And you had no inclination that Ian was seeing anyone else?”
“No.”
The doorbell chimed.
Katherine opened the door while Declan and Charlie stayed in the other room. Declan could see the entrance through a reflection in a mirror. Outside stood Luke Fraser and Sergeant McKeckran.
“Mrs Mann, may we come in?” Luke asked.
The police entered the hallway.
Declan heard Luke say, “I’m Constable Fraser. We have some bad news. I’m sorry to have to tell you this, but we think we have found your husband’s body.”
Katherine sank onto a small padded bench beside the door.
“Do you have someone you would like us to call? A friend or relative?” Luke asked. Declan noticed that Luke was doing all of the talking. McKeckran had remained silent until Declan entered the hall from the living room.
“Hunt? What the fuck are you doing here?” McKeckran said.
“Mr Hunt is a friend of mine!” Katherine snapped back.
Declan knelt by Katherine and took her shoulders in his hands. “Katherine. The officers are going to ask you to go with them. They’re going to need you to formally identify Ian’s body. Isn’t that right, officer?” he said, directing the question to Luke.
“He’s right, Mrs Mann. Would you like Mr Hunt to come with you?”
“No. I think I’d like to call my friend, Deirdre,” she said.
Declan said, “I’m very sorry, Katherine. We’ll leave you with the police, but call me if you need anything.”
Declan walked back to the living room to retrieve Charlie. Katherine followed him and grabbed his arm. “I need you to find out what happened. I don’t trust them,” she whispered, looking back at the police. Declan nodded to her and indicated to Charlie that they should leave.
Charlie gave Katherine a brief hug and said, “We’ll figure out what happened to your husband. I promise you.”
Chapter Fifteen
The room was comfortable, not cold and sterile as she’d expected. Katherine took in little of it. She was too numb.
She didn’t remember the ride in. The two police officers who had come to the door drove her to the Office of the Chief Medical Examiner. Deirdre and Simon were there waiting for her.
“Oh…my dear,” Deirdre said, putting her arms around Katherine.
Simon put his hand on her shoulder. “We’re here for you, Kat.”
“If you will all follow me,” Luke said. They entered the one-storey brown brick building, walked past the reception desk, down a few nondescript corridors and through a door marked ‘Viewing’.
“Can I get anyone anything?” Luke asked. “Water, tea or coffee?”
“Water would be nice,” Simon said.
Katherine just sat there and said nothing.
An older man entered the room. He whispered to the two officers, then turned to the visitors.
“Mrs Mann,” Luke gestured, “this is Dr Willart, the coroner.”
The coroner began, “Mrs Mann, I know that this is a very difficult time, but if I could ask you a few questions to start with.”
Katherine nodded. Deirdre took Katherine’s hand in hers.
“Did your husband have any identifying marks? Scars, tattoos, birthmarks?”
“No,” she started, then paused. “His eyes. They were different colours.”
“What colours would they be?”
Katherine didn’t respond for a moment. “Uh…one’s blue. The other…greeny-grey.”
“Do you recall what colour his right eye is?”
Katherine began to cry and looked toward Deirdre. “I can’t remember! Deirdre, I can’t remember. I can’t even picture it right now.” She buried her face in her hands.
Simon’s face crinkled into a frown as he asked the coroner, “Why the right eye?”
Deirdre shot him a sharp look. “Simon! You’re not being helpful.”
“I was just asking—”
“Not…now!” Deirdre said in a loud whisper.
The coroner replied, “I was just hoping to confirm which eye was which colour.” He looked at Katherine. “At times like this, memory can easily get…muddled.”
Luke interjected, “Mrs Mann, can you think of any reason why your husband might have been along the shores of the Elbow River on the night he disappeared?”
“No.”
“So, he wasn’t one to go fishing, or…swimming?”
“No. Are you saying he drowned?”
Dr Willart took a breath before continuing. “Mrs Mann, your husband was found in the river. More to the point, he was naked. Constable Fraser was simply trying to determine if he was the type to go for a swim.”
“In the river? Why would he…”
“Mrs Mann, I’m going to show you a video image of the man we believe is your husband. Are you ready to see it and tell me if you recognise him?”
Katherine nodded and held tightly onto Deirdre’s hand. A screen lit up with an overhead image of a man’s face and neck. Below that was draped in a sheet. The left side of his face was covered in a cloth. Katherine looked at the image. The face looked so…colourless. And slack. She couldn’t make out the hair. Ian’s always fell across his face. This face was bare. Was this Ian?
“I will now show you a profile angle,” Dr Willart informed her.
The camera view instantly changed to a side view. The ear looked like Ian’s but…
“Is his ear pierced? I can’t see it,” Katherine asked.
“It is.”
“And the other ear?”
Dr Willart answered, “Yes, they’re both pierced.”
Katherine continued to examine the face. It looked like an amateur artist’s rendering of Ian. Everything was there, only not quite right.
“Mrs Mann?” Dr Willart prompted. “Is this your husband?”
“Yes… I think. It looks like it…may have been him. Maybe. It looks…different. His eyes?” Katherine asked.
Dr Willart referred to his notes. “The left eye was grey-green, his right, light blue. One final question—do you wear a particular make and shade of lipstick?”
“What?”
“We found traces of lipstick on your husband’s lips. I need to know if it was yours, or, perhaps…”
Sergeant McKeckran snorted and coughed.
“Officer,” Dr Willart snapped, “do you need a glass of water?”
Katherine hated the man that coughed. And the hate gave her enough clarity to remember and say, “Tom Ford’s Fucking Fabulous Lip Color.”
“And what shade do you wear?”
“It only comes in red.” She knew it was the only lipstick Ian wore, but she didn’t say that out loud.
After the viewing was over, Luke escorted them back to the parking lot. Katherine had agreed to Deirdre’s request to drive her home.
Before getting in the car, Simon turned to Luke. “What’s the next step?”
“For us? We’ll find the location where this all happened. We’ll start where Mr Mann’s body was found, and work upstream.”
Katherine turned to the constable and asked, “What happened to him?”
Luke replied, “They’re still not sure. The results of the post-mortem will shed some light on that.”
“Oh,” she said.
“Don’t you worry. We’ll figure out what happened to your husband. I promise you.”
Katherine frowned. That was the second time today she’d heard the same sentence, and she wasn’t convinced that the promise would truly be kept.
Chapter Sixteen
After Declan and Charlie left Katherine’s, they headed towards Sheldon Prescott’s home. They drove west, past the towering ski jumps and serpentine bobsleigh tracks built on the former Paskapoo Ski Hill for the 1988 Olympic Winter Games. Fifteen minutes later, they turned towards Mountain River Estates, an area known for large mansions with impressive views of the nearby Rocky Mountains.
As they made their way down the drive to Sheldon Prescott’s house, they were met by a closed gate set into a tall brick wall that surrounded the property.
“Holy… This place must be worth a fortune. It makes Katherine’s place look small,” Charlie said.
Declan nodded as he buzzed the intercom.
“Can I help you?” a scratchy voice said over the speaker.
“It’s Declan Hunt. I’m a friend of Katherine Mann. I have an appointment with Sheldon Prescott.”
The gates swung open and they proceeded up the long drive to the house.
“Should I bring the camera with me?” Charlie asked.
“Yeah. We probably won’t need it inside, but I’m hoping we’ll be allowed to do a search of the grounds.”
Declan did a quick scan of the nearby property, noting the presence of several CCTV cameras. He also took in the placement of trees and bushes which might offer cover to someone who wanted to remain unseen.
As they left the van, the front door of the house opened and a heavy-set man in his mid-sixties stepped out onto the stone portico. He was dressed in casual slacks and a colourful print shirt. His hair was obviously dyed jet black and his teeth were a little too white. He tries to look young, but the face-lift and hair plugs are a bit too obvious, Declan mused.
“Mr Prescott? I’m Declan Hunt, and this is my assistant Charlie Watts.”
“Ah. Like the drummer,” Sheldon quipped.
“Yeah.” Charlie feigned a weak laugh. “Just like the drummer.”
“As you know, we’re here about Ian Mann. Can we come in and talk?”
“Please,” Sheldon answered, motioning for them to enter. He looked uncomfortable.
Sheldon ushered them into a sitting room to the left of the entrance hall, which was the size of Declan’s entire apartment. An orange tabby cat lay on a couch by the window. Sheldon swatted at it. “Scat!”
It wandered away, unfussed.
They sat on what Declan thought of as ‘old-lady’ furniture—frilly, but very comfortable.
“I hope you don’t mind, but I’ve asked another of Ian’s friends to join us,” Sheldon started.
“Of course,” Declan said.
“Robert,” Sheldon called out. “Robert! The detectives are here.” Sheldon stood and walked back toward the hall, yelling, “Rob—”
“No need to yell. I’m old, but I’m not deaf,” called another voice.
Around the corner from the hall an older man in a wheelchair appeared. He sported a well-fitting grey jacket with matching pants and a powder-blue shirt open at the neck. Unlike Sheldon, it was clear he wasn’t trying to hide his age. His hair was thinning and grey. He wore thick-rimmed glasses and his moustache was unevenly trimmed. He had an air of unkempt nobility.
Declan and Charlie stood. Sheldon waved a hand toward them. “Robert, this is Declan Hunt and his assistant, Charles Watts.”
“Please, call me Charlie,” Charlie added.
“And I’m Robert Williams, Ian’s oldest, and I do mean oldest friend.”
“I’m so pleased that you could join us, Mr Williams,” Declan said.
“Please, call me Robert,” he said, grasping Declan’s hand in both of his. “As we are dealing with such an intimate situation, I feel that we should all be on a first-name basis. Please, no need to stand on my account.”
Everyone sat.
Declan began, “First of all, we want to assure you that everything disclosed today will be held in the strictest of confidence.”
As he spoke, Declan could see Sheldon checking them both out. He had no idea if his sexual preference was for males but he hoped that Sheldon would be attracted to one of them. Sexual desire for an interviewer almost always resulted in an interviewee being more helpful.
Robert had positioned himself next to Charlie, staring longingly at the young man.
Sheldon broke the silence. “Katherine’s a dear friend. I hope I can help, although…I’m sure you can understand that there are some things I may not be at liberty to discuss.”
“Likewise,” Robert added.
“Of course,” Declan said. “Is it all right with you if Charlie takes notes?”
“Please, go ahead,” Sheldon said to Charlie.
Charlie had stuffed his pad and pen into the outer pouch of the camera bag. When he retrieved them, Sheldon became visibly nervous. “May I ask what’s in that case?”
“Just some camera equipment, sir,” Charlie replied. “Nothing is recording. I’ll remove the batteries if that will make you feel more comfortable,” he offered, then did so.
Good boy, Charlie, Declan thought.
“Thank you. I know it may seem a bit paranoid…”
“No. Not at all,” Declan responded.
“It’s important that you feel comfortable,” Charlie added. “You’ve invited us into your home. You should always feel safe here.”
Declan saw Sheldon start to relax. Charlie had worked his wonders.
“Now, if you could tell me about what happened the night of Thursday, the seventh of July.”
The tabby cat returned to the room. It paid no attention to Declan or Charlie, and hopped up on the couch where Sheldon sat. It nuzzled up to him and flopped into his lap. Sheldon began to absentmindedly stroke it.
“There isn’t much to tell,” he began. “Ian arrived a little later than usual.” He addressed his words to the cat, looking at neither Declan nor Charlie.
“Do you remember what time he got here?” Declan asked.
“He usually arrived just after seven. He liked to get here before anyone else. Ian liked to transform, as he called it, before any of the others arrived. He used to say it helped to set the tone for the evening. Our guests all had different tastes. Some dressed simply, some liked to wear next-to-nothing, but Ian always changed into something truly elegant—”
“He was definitely here before I arrived, which would have been about eight,” Robert interrupted. “I was running behind schedule. My driver was late in picking me up. Ian was just putting on his finishing touches before he helped me get ready. He always helped me. I’m not as flexible as I once was. There was a time I would never have allowed that. The reveal is part of the fun, like in a magic act.”
“Did Ian seem…distracted by anything?” Declan asked.
“Not that I remember,” Sheldon answered. “He rarely brought any problems to our soirées. They’re a place to escape our troubles. If anyone started to complain about things, Ian was the first to tell them to leave their problems at the doorstep. The night was for pretty people doing pretty things.”
Robert interrupted, “That’s not exactly true. Don’t you remember?”
“Remember what?” Sheldon asked.
“Ian was all fussed about a property of his that someone wanted to buy. Ian needed the money, or so he said, but he had an emotional attachment to the building that was standing in the way.” Robert redirected his focus to Declan. “The interesting thing about being in a wheelchair is that people often forget you’re there. You become a piece of furniture, and no one bothers to hold their tongue when they perceive you as nothing more than an ottoman next to them.”
“Oh, Robert, you’re always overreacting.”
“Sheldon, if you didn’t want me to tell them what I heard, why did you invite me?”
Sheldon sat back, looking mildly annoyed. He began to stroke the cat with more vigour.
Declan intervened. “Did Ian say anything else?”
Robert replied, “He was strangely upset by the whole thing. Imagine, anyone being attached to any building in this town. I did ask if he was being strong-armed into doing something and he immediately changed the subject, flattering me on my dress and the new wig I’d bought.”
He turned to Charlie. “It was a beautiful shag cut, a là 1970s Jane Fonda, not that her name would necessarily mean anything to you. You are so young… It would look fabulous on you, though. You have the figure for it.”
Charlie smiled.
“Ian said he should take my picture,” Robert continued. “You know, do a real photo shoot. He was always talking about how much he missed being a photographer.”
Robert turned his attention to Charlie. “You know, he was the go-to photographer when he was still in London,” he said, putting his hand on Charlie’s knee.
As Robert spoke, Declan kept an eye on Sheldon, who gave the impression of someone used to the limelight who was being upstaged. He stroked the cat even harder. The cat gave Sheldon a swat with its clawed paw.
“Ow. You little bitch,” he snapped, pushing it off his lap onto the floor. A small trickle of blood ran down his hand. Sheldon pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and held it to the wound. “You feed and care for the children, and this is how they show their gratitude.”
The cat wandered over to Charlie and hopped up beside him, where it settled in, staring at Sheldon.
Declan decided to refocus the conversation. “Were the usual guests all here that night?”
“All but one,” Sheldon said, excited to be back into the conversation. “He was off with his wife in Cancún.”
“So, how many guests did you have?”
“I don’t know… There would have been me, Ian and Robert…” He started counting on his fingers, then continued in silence until he reached, “Twelve. Yes, twelve guests.”
Declan continued his questioning. “Did anything out of the ordinary happen? Any arguments break out, especially involving Ian?”
“No. It was one big happy party,” Sheldon said.
“It was a delightful evening,” Robert added.
“And what time did Ian leave?” Declan asked.
Sheldon pondered the question for a moment before answering. “Well, he was usually the first in and first out. It would have been about…one in the morning.”
“That’s the last we saw of him before he disappeared,” Robert added.
“Do you think something’s happened to him?” Declan asked.
Robert was the first to answer. “Of course I do. There is no possible way that he would leave without saying goodbye to Katherine. He loved that woman. They had a good marriage, albeit unusual by most people’s standards, and I’m sure there was no one else in his life. He would have said something to me about that. He told me everything.”
