Читать книгу Alex Barclay 4-Book Thriller Collection: Blood Runs Cold, Time of Death, Blood Loss, Harm’s Reach - Alex Barclay - Страница 66

Chapter 54

Bob stuck his head in the door of the office. Robbie and Ren were sitting on Cliff’s desk, talking. Gressett was keeping his head down at the computer in the corner.

‘Ren, why don’t you stop by my office a minute?’ said Bob.

‘Sure. Now?’

‘That would be great.’

They went in and sat down.

‘You know I like you, right?’ said Bob. His tone was one she had never heard from him before.

‘Sure, Bob … I like you too.’ She smiled.

‘Then can you explain to me what the hell you were doing with Malcolm Wardwell?’

‘I … was interrogating him.’

Gary knocked and came in. He threw Ren a look, then turned back to Bob. ‘My apologies for all this, Bob.’ He sat down.

‘Well, when I spoke to an “irate” Mr Wardwell earlier, it didn’t sound quite so much like an interrogation to me as an abusive rant,’ said Bob.

‘Interesting,’ said Ren. ‘Irate with you, a pussy with me …’

Bob looked at Gary. ‘Jesus, aren’t you guys trained to get shit out of people in a … gentle way? Aren’t we the ones supposed to go in all guns blazing?’

‘Ren, this really sounded bad,’ said Gary. ‘It sounded nasty and personal and –’

‘It was personal,’ said Ren, trying to file down the edge in her voice. Make up something worthy. ‘It is personal to me when a fellow agent is murdered, a woman my age. And I’m leading the case.’

‘The man is threatening to sue,’ said Bob. He clicked his fingers, ‘Like that. I mean, I do not need this right now.’ Bob’s phone beeped. ‘Excuse me,’ he said, leaving the room.

Ren turned to Gary. ‘I could argue that, say, for example, local businessman, Mr Wardwell had provided money to Sheriff Gage’s election campaign, that that would be personal too.’

‘Is that a fact?’ said Gary.

‘“Say, for example” is how I started the sentence.’ She said it like a question.

Gary shook his head slowly. ‘You sound like my teenage daughter. Who, God forgive me, I would be afraid to bring to the summer picnic she has such an attitude problem. Go take a break somewhere, Ren. I’ll finish this up with Bob.’

Ren decided to drive into town, park the car and go for a walk along the Blue River.

Her cellphone rang.

‘Hello? Agent Bryce? It’s Dr Tolman here.’

‘Hello, how are you doing?’

‘Good. I’m just calling to say I found something that may or may not be of interest to you. I did a little more searching.’

‘OK …’

‘I excise a block of tissue from every organ, standard practice. This would include the uterus. If there are problems with a pregnancy –’

‘Whoa,’ said Ren. ‘Jean Transom was pregnant?’

‘No, not when she died. But, yes … at some point. And I can confirm that she gave birth.’

‘OK,’ said Ren. ‘Go on.’

‘In a problem pregnancy, the placenta can have an abnormal attachment to the uterine lining. And that can create problems at delivery and major blood loss. When I examined her histological slides, what I found was evidence of retained placental tissue.’

‘How come you didn’t see this during the autopsy? I thought there was some pelvis thing that would have showed it up.

‘Not necessarily,’ said Tolman. ‘When a woman’s given birth, there’s a change in the cervical os – the opening at the top of the uterus. But you can’t always see that. And it’s not something you’d pick up routinely. We would only really do a detailed examination if we needed to confirm a recent pregnancy, like if a baby was found abandoned and a woman was found dead nearby … you know? We would do a detailed examination if it was relevant to the crime. Do you think it could be relevant this time?’

‘I have no idea,’ said Ren. ‘But thank you for letting me know.’

Ren called Gary Dettling and Bob Gage and told them. She had to leave a message for Paul Louderback.

Patrick Transom’s house was in darkness, except for one light glowing somewhere in the back of the house. Ren pulled up outside and jogged up the steps. The night was starless. She was reluctant to ring the doorbell in case it would wake his children. She called him on his cellphone instead. He came out and let her in.

‘My apologies for stopping by so late,’ she said.

‘That’s OK,’ said Patrick. ‘I’m not exactly sleeping these days …’

‘I know. It must be terrible …’

‘It is,’ said Patrick. ‘Can I get you a drink?’

‘No, no. I’m fine … maybe just a glass of water.’

She sat down on the sofa in the living room and when he came back, he sat on the chair opposite, creating an awkward distance between them. He seemed to notice, then decide out of nervousness, to ignore it.

‘I’m sorry to have to do this,’ said Ren, ‘but I’m going to have to talk to you about some of Jean’s personal details. Again.’

He frowned. ‘“Personal” as in …?’

She paused. ‘Well I got some additional information from the pathologist today. And it appears that, Jean, at one point, gave birth.’

He stood up. ‘What?’

‘Did you have any idea she was ever pregnant?’

‘What? Do I look like I had a clue?’

Ren waited.

‘I’m sorry,’ he said. ‘No. I didn’t know. I mean, Jean has never had a boyfriend as long as I’ve known her. When was she supposed to have this baby?’

‘It’s impossible to say,’ said Ren. ‘But it is definite that she did. And it couldn’t have been in the last fourteen years because she was at the academy or working for the Bureau, so we would have known. And … so would you.’ She gestured to him. ‘You should probably take a seat.’

‘Have you found any other evidence that she had a baby? Are there birth records? Did the baby live? Did she put it up for adoption? Jesus.’

‘I know. It’s extremely difficult in a situation like this to have to come to a family member with this kind of news, but obviously we have to look at every aspect of Jean’s life in order to find the person responsible for her death.’

Patrick started shaking his head. ‘I’m just in shock about Jean. I … is there anything I can do as her family? Is there anywhere I can look or anyone I can ask about this?’

‘Did Jean ever hint at anything or give you the impression that there was something she was hiding or –’

He half-laughed. You’ve probably worked out that Jean wasn’t stupid. If she wanted to hide something, she’d do a damn good job of it. You folks all seem very good at not betraying any emotion.’

‘Well, I hope you can sense the sadness we all feel at her loss.’

‘I’m sorry, I didn’t mean it like that. It was a compliment. I wasn’t talking about –’

‘I’m sorry. I just was hoping you didn’t think we were all robots.’

‘Not at all,’ said Patrick. ‘I’ve seen the grief. And it was very touching.’

Breckenridge looked closed by the time Ren drove through. When she got back to the inn, she grabbed a book from the shelf in the living room, something set in a pretty place with a pretty girl and a handsome guy. She went up to the suite, locked herself in and turned on the bedside lamp. She went to the bathroom, brushed her teeth, changed into pale pink flannel pajamas and got into bed. She lay back with the book on her chest under her hand. She leaned up, opened it and started. Line four talked about a woman with blonde hair. Jean Transom. Two paragraphs later, someone’s bedroom was painted lavender. Jean Transom. By page two, the book was on the night stand and Ren’s eyes were dead ahead. Tiny pulses of anxiety struck up all over her body. Her breathing was a mess.

I am a failure. Everyone has been working under me. I have led them all into a dead-end. I cannot take my mind off all this with a book.

She pulled back the covers and got out of bed. She grabbed the coffee pot, turned on the kettle and laid files across the bed while she waited. When her coffee was made, she took her mug and wandered over to the window.

Staring out at the damp, late-evening streets and the solid mountain peaks, she could believe for as long as she stood there that the world was a beautiful place.