- Home
- Kevin Hopkins
Reserved For Murder Page 7
Reserved For Murder Read online
Page 7
‘Yeah, but…’ Grant said.
‘But, what?’ Penner asked.
‘Well,’ said Grant, ‘the coroner said that Jonny’s hyoid bone was broken.’
‘His what?’ Millar asked.
‘Exactly, right?’ Grant said. ‘I vaguely remember hearing its name back when I was a paramedic, but I always thought it was called hynoid. Probably a good thing I switched careers. Anyway, he said the hyoid bone is a horseshoe-shaped bone in the neck.’
‘So? You said he hanged himself, right?’ Penner said. ‘With the pressure of the rope, wouldn’t you expect something in his neck to break?’
‘Yeah, I would. But according to the coroner, it’s pretty rare for the hyoid bone to break when a young male hangs himself,’ Grant said. ‘Apparently it only happens in about six percent of cases.’
‘Really? That seems pretty low.’ Penner frowned. ‘So, what did the coroner think?’
‘Well, he said it could be nothing, but that particular bone usually only breaks as a result of manual strangulation. So, bottom line is he thinks it’s something worth looking into. Unfortunately, he really can’t say either way,’ Grant said. ‘The bruising on his neck is more or less consistent with hanging.’
‘Wait. More or less?’ Millar said. ‘Either it is or it isn’t.’
‘Well, he said there were a couple of marks on the side of his neck that could be bruising from an individual’s fingers grabbing his neck. Or, they could be from something else. Maybe hickies.’
‘Hickies? Like, from someone sucking on his neck? Do kids still do that?’ Penner asked, surprised.
‘Maybe. I really don’t know,’ Grant said. ‘But, the coroner recommends we find out if Jonny had a girlfriend. Or a boyfriend, I guess.’
‘So what are you getting at? It might not have been suicide after all?’ Millar asked. ‘What about the note?’
‘I don’t know. I’m thinking that as soon as we get it, I’ll ask Barry to bring it to Jonny’s mom. See if she can confirm that it’s his handwriting,’ Grant said. ‘If it is, then there’s probably a good chance it’s a suicide and the bruising came from something else. But, I’ll still ask around.’
‘And if it’s not his handwriting?’ Penner asked.
‘Well, then I guess Millar and I are gonna have to be more than just figureheads,’ Grant said. ‘I should give Barry a call and give him a heads-up.’
CHAPTER TEN
As they approached the drop-in centre, they saw that two teenagers and a young girl were hanging out outside. The boy was bouncing a basketball against the side of the building, while the girls chatted. Grant recognized Sarah, still in her dress from earlier, and the boy was her brother, Sammy, but he didn’t recognize the young girl.
‘Hey, City Boy. I was starting to think that you weren’t going to open up today,’ Sarah said as Grant unlocked the door.
‘Hey, Sarah. Great job dancing earlier! That was really cool,’ Grant said, stepping inside and turning on the lights. ‘I didn’t realize you were dancing with the hoops this year—you’re getting pretty good with them.’
‘I thought I recognized your dress,’ said Penner. ‘I had never seen anything like that before. I don’t know how you kept the beat while manoeuvring the hoops around like you did. I’m sure I would have either dropped them all or fallen flat on my face!’
‘Lots of practice,’ Sarah said. ‘That, and the thought of my instructor lecturing me next time I saw her. Fear is a pretty good motivator,’ she said with a smile.
‘Well, whatever it was, it worked,’ Penner said. ‘I think your dance was the highlight of the powwow for me.’
‘Wow, even over the coffee?’ Millar said. ‘That’s a pretty huge compliment!’ Penner gave him a friendly shove.
‘I didn’t see many other girls doing that type of dance, though,’ Penner said. ‘Mainly just guys.’
‘Traditionally, only boys and men danced with the hoops, but that started to change recently,’ Sarah said. ‘A few of the Elders still think it should just be males that do it, so some of the other girls here don’t want to try. They don’t want to upset anyone.’
‘You’re not worried about that?’ Penner asked.
‘Me? Hardly,’ said Sarah with a trace of scorn. ‘If they don’t like it, they don’t have to watch. I’m going to do what makes me happy, not what makes someone else happy.’
‘Now that’s a good way to live,’ Penner agreed.
‘If you want, I can show you some moves,’ said Sarah, grabbing Penner by the arm, leading her to one of the back rooms.
Grant turned his attention to the other two kids. ‘So, how’re you doing, Sammy?’
‘Okay, I guess,’ Sammy said, dribbling his basketball with one hand. ‘It’s weird. I’m really not sure how to feel.’
‘Well, that’s understandable in situations like this,’ Grant said, grabbing some chairs that were stacked along one of the walls. He placed eight of them in a circle, just in case anyone else decided to show up, and sat down. Millar sat in the chair beside him, while Sammy and the girl sat down across from them. ‘This is my friend from Ottawa, Detective Terry Millar. He’s going to be helping me out here for a while.’ Millar nodded at Sammy and the girl. ‘And what’s your name? I don’t think I’ve seen you here before,’ Grant asked, looking at the young girl. She was probably around nine or ten, with long black hair flowing over her shoulders.
‘This is Ella. She’s our cousin from Peterborough. She came down for the powwow with my auntie and uncle,’ Sammy said, as Ella tried to hide her face behind his back. ‘She’s pretty shy.’
‘Well, nice to meet you, Ella,’ Grant said in a soft, parent-like tone. Ella gave a little wave, still hiding behind her cousin. ‘Would you like to do some colouring?’ he asked. Ella moved her head back into view and gave a nod. ‘Perfect,’ Grant said, getting up. He went over to a closet that was beside the stack of chairs and pulled out a colouring book of animals and a box of pencil crayons. He handed Ella the book, putting the box on the chair beside her.
‘So, Sammy,’ Grant started as he sat back down. Ella was busy colouring a bear green. ‘When was the last time you saw Jonny?’
‘Saw him the day before yesterday,’ Sammy said. ‘We went out biking in the woods, then decided to go for a dip down at the old pond cuz it was so hot.’
‘What time was that?’ Grant asked.
‘Not too sure,’ Sammy said. ‘I don’t wear a watch. But maybe three or four in the afternoon.’
‘How did Jonny seem to you? Had he been upset about anything?’ Grant asked, glancing down at Ella as she searched for a different colour in the box.
‘Seemed like Jonny,’ Sammy said. ‘He always just seemed the same. Never really sad or anything, always real happy. He was looking forward to next week’s hunt. He loved being out hunting.’
‘Was he dating anyone?’ Grant asked. Millar sat quietly, just taking in the way Grant worked. He hadn’t really seen Grant questioning anyone before.
‘No, he wasn’t seeing anyone,’ Sammy said, breaking eye contact and looking around the room. ‘Not since last year. He took it really hard when Amanda died.’
‘Amanda?’ Grant said.
‘Yeah, the Chief’s step-daughter,’ Sammy said. ‘Jonny and her had been dating for a long time—maybe six months before they broke up.’
‘I didn’t know the Chief had a daughter,’ Grant said. ‘So, what happened to her?’
‘She hung herself,’ Sammy said. ‘Really shook Jonny up. When he broke up with her, she told him that she was going to kill herself, but he didn’t think she really would. No one took her seriously. No one thought she’d really do it.’
‘She hanged herself?’ Grant said, looking over at Millar. ‘Do you think Jonny was still upset?’
‘I know he missed her,’ said Sammy, thoughtfully. ‘He kind of felt guilty for not believing her, but he had come to terms with the fact that she was gone. After a month or two, he was back to himself.�
�
‘Something to keep in mind,’ Grant said to Millar. ‘So, when you guys were swimming, did you notice any bruises on Jonny?’
‘What kind of bruises? You think someone beat him up?’
‘No,’ said Grant, ‘nothing like that. More like…a hickie, maybe? Or any other kind of bruises on his neck.’
‘I’d remember a hickie…cuz I would have teased him about that. That’s lame.’ Sammy shook his head in disgust. ‘But, I didn’t notice any marks at all. And he didn’t mention anything. Like I said, he was just his normal, happy self.’
‘Right.’ Grant straightened up in his chair, ‘So, do you think it would be good to have someone come in and talk to you and your friends?’
‘Why? We’re talking now, right? Why would we want someone else to come in?’ Sammy asked, furrowing his brow.
‘Well, if you have any questions about death, or you just want to talk about how you’re feeling. Anything, really,’ said Grant.
‘I’m good,’ Sammy said, standing up and picking up his basketball from the floor. ‘Maybe some of the other kids might have questions or something, but I’m cool. Death happens—nothing we can do about it, right?’
‘You’re definitely your sister’s brother,’ said Grant.
‘Well, d’uh,’ Sammy said, not understanding the expression. ‘I’m going to head out back and shoot some hoops. Mind looking after Ella until Sarah’s back?’
‘Yeah, no problem,’ Grant said, standing up. ‘Thanks for chatting, Sammy. If you do need to talk, just let me know, okay?’
‘Will do, City Boy,’ Sammy said with a wave as he walked out of the room.
‘You, too? Great,’ Grant said.
‘Seems like they really respect you,’ Millar said with a chuckle.
‘Yeah, tonnes of respect,’ said Grant, sitting back down in a chair beside Ella. ‘Wow, a purple moose. Does he have a name?’ She didn’t answer and just kept colouring.
‘No, I’m actually serious,’ Millar said. ‘The fact that he sat here and talked to you shows he has a level of respect for you. And giving you a nickname, well, that helps, too.’
‘Glad you think so,’ said Grant. ‘Sometimes I really feel like an outsider here. There’s a lot of mistrust of anyone who’s not from here. I can understand it—they’ve been screwed over a lot over the years. But, slowly, I think things are starting to change.’
A loud crash sounded from the room Penner and Sarah had gone into. Sarah poked her head out of the door. ‘Sorry about that! I think we need a little more practice.’
‘Everything okay?’ Millar asked, walking towards the room. He looked in past Sarah and saw Penner laying on the floor, laughing hysterically, hoops strewn all around her.
‘It’s all good, but my career as a dancer may be over,’ Penner said, slowly getting to her knees, still shaking with laughter.
‘Not sure it ever really started,’ Sarah said, picking up the hoops.
***
Grant checked his watch. He had hoped some more of the kids would have shown up to talk, but he wasn’t too surprised they hadn’t. With the powwow and the feast, there was a lot going on to distract them from whatever they might be feeling. Tomorrow was a different day. ‘Well, we should probably head out if we want to get cleaned up before dinner.’
Grant and Millar stacked the chairs back against the wall while Sarah and Penner helped Ella put away the pencil crayons. They walked outside into the bright, humid air and waited for Grant to turn off the lights and lock the door. They could hear Sammy still playing with the basketball around the side of the building.
‘You and your family coming to the feast?’ Grant asked Sarah, who was admiring Ella’s colouring job.
‘Yup, we’ll be there for sure. Never turn down a moose roast,’ Sarah said, taking Ella’s hand. ‘Guess I’ll see you there later. Thanks for opening up, City Boy. Good dancing, Sue.’
‘Maybe I’ll get another lesson before I head back home,’ Penner said.
‘That can be arranged,’ Sarah said over her shoulder, as she and Ella walked around the building to get Sammy.
‘She seems like a good kid,’ Penner said as they started heading back towards their rooms.
‘She is,’ said Grant. ‘Most of the kids here are good. Well, the ones I’ve met, anyway.’
‘Do the rooms here have air conditioning?’ Millar asked, wiping his forehead. ‘This has to be one of the hottest, most humid weeks of the summer.’
‘Well, technically they do—but they’re really only good at making noise,’ Grant said. ‘They don’t seem to cool down the rooms too well.’
‘Excellent,’ said Millar. ‘Maybe I’ll have to try and find that swimming pond Sammy was talking about before trying to sleep tonight.’
‘I think it’s supposed to rain most of the night,’ said Grant. ‘So, with any luck, the heat will break a bit.’ He looked up at the cloudless sky. ‘Well, according to the weather report it’s supposed to rain.’
‘And that’s never been wrong before?’ Penner asked sarcastically.
‘Touché,’ said Grant. Looking down the street, he saw Barry walking towards them. ‘Hey, Barry! Up already? I thought you were heading home to sleep.’
‘Yeah, I managed to get a bit, but not as much as I would have liked,’ Barry said. ‘Got a call earlier from the band office that the courier had dropped off the suicide note from the coroner in town. Figured I’d bring it over to Jonny’s mom and get her to have a look at it.’
‘Oh, yeah?’ Grant said, intrigued. ‘What’d she say?’
‘Well, when she finally stopped crying enough to be able to actually read the note, she gave it back to me and said Jonny didn’t write it,’ Barry said.
‘Really? Was she sure?’
‘I asked her and she said there was no way Jonny wrote this note,’ Barry said. ‘She said it looked nothing like his writing.’
‘Well, if he was distraught, is it possible that there might be a difference in how he wrote?’ suggested Penner. ‘Maybe she’s just in denial?’
‘That was my thought, too,’ Barry said, nodding. ‘So, I asked her if she had anything he had written recently. She got me one of his book reports. Kind of lucky—he usually used a computer for his assignments, but his printer was out of ink when he had to do this one.’ He took the report and the letter out of a large manila envelope. ‘See. Looks like the slant of the letters is wrong…and the way he loops certain letters. I’m no handwriting expert, but to me, they look really different.’
Grant took the two documents to have a look. The suicide note was in a clear, plastic cover. ‘You put it in here?’
‘No, that’s how it was when it was sent over,’ Barry said. ‘Guess in case we wanted to check for prints.’
‘We should definitely give it a dust. See if there’s anything to see,’ Grant said, checking out the documents. ‘You know, I think you’re right. Look at how the r’s are done—in the note, they’re more like script, but in his report, everything is printed. Look at the word sorry,’ he said, passing the letter to Millar.
‘Anywhere in the report where he wrote double r’s? Maybe it’s just how he wrote when the r was doubled,’ Millar said, looking over the rest of the letter.
Grant scanned the book report. ‘Okay, here. He wrote hurry. All the letters are printed, the r’s are very different,’ he said, looking up at Millar.
‘Hmm, did he use double r’s anywhere else?’ Millar asked. Penner could see his wheels turning.
‘Yeah, here he wrote burry,’ Grant said, pointing to the page.
‘Like, a plant had a lot of burrs, so it was burry?’ Penner asked.
‘Probably meant bury, based on the sentence,’ Grant said. ‘But again, the r’s are printed. Nothing like the note.’ He passed the report to Millar, who held the two side by side. ‘What do you think?’
Millar scanned the two documents for a minute without saying anything. ‘I think we need to get these checked out,’ he fi
nally said. ‘There are definitely differences between the two. But, just because there are differences doesn’t mean he didn’t write both of them. We have to look at the differences and the similarities to be able to tell for sure.’ He looked up at Penner. ‘Didn’t one of the guys working with fraud take a handwriting analysis course?’
‘Yeah, what was his name?’ Penner thought hard. ‘Waters maybe?’
‘No, it was a Scottish name, I think. McCoy?’
‘McGee!’ Penner exclaimed, happy she thought of it before Millar did.
‘Yeah, that’s it. I’ll give the Captain a call—see if we can fax these over to him to have a look. See what McGee thinks,’ Millar said, passing the documents back to Barry. ‘Do you mind if I use the phone in the office here?’
‘No problem,’ said Barry. ‘Fax machine’s here, too, so we can send them off as soon as you get the go-ahead.’
‘Perfect. I’ll take care of this, then I’ll meet you back at your place,’ Millar said to Grant. ‘I think I can find my way back from here.’
‘Sounds good,’ Grant said, turning to Penner. ‘I’ll show you where you’ll be staying. See if the Chief dropped off a change of clothes for you, yet.’ He turned back to Barry and Millar. ‘By the way—that was some good policework, Barry.’
‘Thanks. See you later at the dinner,’ Barry said, holding the door to the band office open for Millar. Inside, Travis sat at a desk behind a mound of paperwork, his straw hat hanging on a hook behind his chair and his dog, Chewie, laying asleep in a small bed beside the desk.
‘Looks like my desk back at the precinct,’ Millar said. ‘Don’t think I’ve actually seen the surface of my desk for at least a year now.’
‘This ain’t even the half of it,’ Travis said with his Jamaican drawl. ‘There’s another stack on the desk over there,’ he said pointing to the back of the office. ‘Sometimes I feel like all I do is fill in forms, and for what? Can’t get approval from the government for anything.’
‘Well, we appreciate you trying,’ Barry said. ‘You can use the phone over here, Detective.’