Ghost of the Past Page 9

  “I am sure you can look it up,” says Joyce. “I am not sure if it was my last case, but the last thing I remember investigating was a series of rapes. The man would strangle his victims to within an inch of their lives, but would always leave them alive. You would think that that would make it easier to catch him, but we never got a description, never got any real evidence, and nothing that would suggest who he was. I had a few ideas, but nothing really to go on. He was a ghost, a spectre.”

  “Do you remember the night you were killed? Could you have got a look at him? Do you remember anything?” asks Elliot.

  “Can you please just stop!” shouts Joyce. She looks out the window and Elliot can see her shoulders twitching up and down.

  “I’m sorry,” says Elliot.

  “It is fine, it is just… I do not remember. Since you told me, since I saw the truth, I have been thinking about it over and over. I remember so much of my life but I cannot remember anything from my last night—nothing which would suggest any of my memories are from that night. If I knew, then I would talk about it freely, and I would not mind, but it is the not knowing that is driving me out of my mind. I want you to drop it, okay? I am dead and that is that. I do not want to talk about it anymore or I will drive myself crazy.”

  “Okay,” says Elliot. “No more talk.”

  “Now tell me about where we're going,” says Joyce.

  “I just had a run in with David Clarkson and his bodyguard. The bodyguard gave me nothing, but David is a true politician—a liar, though he is obviously wet behind the ears, because he is a terrible liar. I asked him about the hotel and he told me that he had never been there—he was lying. I asked him about March 15th, the date the woman was killed, and I could see his face change. He was there for sure.”

  “And the bodyguard?” asks Joyce.

  “He gives away nothing, but if David was there, then the bodyguard was involved in some form. He may have killed the woman or he may have been there for the clean-up. They are both involved in some way and we need to prove that they were there on the night of the 15th.”

  “So what do we do?” asks Joyce.

  “We checked all of the records at the hotel. There is no record of David staying there, but it is easy to use a false name. The keycard for the night of the 15th was wiped. Again, easy to do and does not prove anything. We had someone take a look at the security footage from around the hotel, but we had no idea what we were looking for. They may have seen something, but not have known what they were seeing. They could have missed something, or they could have been paid off. A tech wage is not what it used to be. If David and his family wanted to cover their tracks, then they have the money to do so. We check the security footage again, but this time for David or the bodyguard. If we spot one of them there, then it would follow suit that the other would be there too. I know that they were there, I can feel it, I can just feel it.”

  “I trust your instinct,” says Joyce. “You are a good detective. You look very smart too.” Elliot had forgotten that he was still wearing his suit. It was too late to go home and change. They pull up at the Glamorgan hotel and both get out. When they go inside, Joy is sitting behind the desk again.

  “Do you work here every night?” asks Elliot.

  “Pretty much, Detective,” says Joy. “Wow, don’t you look handsome tonight. Where are you off to? Or where have you been?”

  “Nowhere,” says Elliot. “I need a favor again.”

  “Anything you want,” says Joy.

  “Really?” asks Elliot.

  “Sure,” says Joy. “This is my last night. They are letting me go because I don’t care enough about the job. Go figure. So who really cares what you do?”

  “Were you here on the night of March 15th?” asks Elliot.

  “No. Hadn't started yet. That was the night of the murder though, wasn't it? Heard a lot of people talking about it.”

  “Anything we should know?” asks Elliot.

  “We?” says Joy. “Are you here with your invisible partner again? The usual rumor-mongering. People say that it was someone high profile who did it, though nobody really knows. Nobody really knows anything around here. One old guy had been here for years and was spouting that he knew who it was, he got fired soon after. He would also tell us that the moon landings were staged and that the moon is really painted on the sky, so take from that what you will. From listening to people, it seemed as if people did not really know, but that they also did not want to know. There was a bad feeling surrounding it. If someone could do this and get away with it, then what else could they do, you know? People didn't want to ask questions, it was hushed up pretty soon after and most people acted as if it did not really happen. Better for business that way too. I’m not sure what else I can do for you. I can look up the address for the old guy if you want it, but I doubt that he will be of any help to you.”

  “Give me the address, just in case, but for now, I need to check your CCTV, go back through and see if I can find anything,” says Elliot.

  “Okay, follow me,” says Joy. She leads them behind the desk and into a break room. Though the room is an office and through the office is the CCTV room.

  “Knock yourself out,” she says and goes back to the front desk.

  Elliot sits down at the desk and opens up the files. He scrolls through the logs, looking for the 15th of March. He scrolls down and then back up. He looks closer. The 13th, 14th, 15th and 16th are all missing.

  “They are gone,” he says.

  “What is gone?” asks Joyce.

  “Whoever was here deleted the CCTV, or had someone do it. They must have been staying here for a few days or they would not have deleted so many of the files. Someone with money and power could have done this quite easily. They must have done it after we looked. Did someone alert them? Were they spotted on camera, then they paid someone off and came back and deleted the files? We are not going to find them here. Let’s get going.”

  “To where?” asks Joyce.

  “I don’t know, back to the station. See what else we can find on David.”

  “We should go see the old man,” says Joyce.

  “What old man?” asks Elliot.

  “The old man who was fired. He may have been fired for a reason. Follow every lead,” says Joyce.

  “Sure,” says Elliot. “It’s the best we have.” They walk back to the front desk. Joy has written down the address for Elliot.

  “His name is Oscar. He was fine, mostly kept to himself. Had some weird ideas, but had a kind heart,” says Joy.

  “Is he reliable? Can he be trusted?” asks Elliot.

  “No, not a chance. He slips in and out of reality. He is crazy, he really is,” says Joy.

  “Every lead,” says Joyce.

  “Thanks for the info,” says Elliot. They walk out and get back into the car. It is a long way to Oscar’s house, but at this time of night, it will not take too long. The air has become cooler, the stars more bright. If you look outside on a night like this, you will be filled with hope and wonder, but Elliot can only think of the murder. Nothing can take his mind from it. If the old man gives him nothing, then he is worried that he will have to take matters into his own hands.

  Oscar lives in the bad part of town. Elliot is sure that he must have lived here for a long time. No one would move into this neighborhood now but for the older people, those who have been here from the start, have seen the trouble grow up around them. There is a protection in this place.

  Elliot knocks and the door opens straight away.

  “Come in, come in,” says Oscar. “I have been expecting you.” He must be over ninety years old. His hair is white and sticking out in places, but the shape of neatness is still there, forgotten for the moment. His eyebrows are big and bushy, the kind that young kids are fascinated by. He walks with gusto, while being slumped over slightly, the weight of time hanging around his neck. He is thin and wiry, and he has an air of violence abo
ut him, like he has been in many fights during his youth. It is his welcoming nature, which is obviously most appealing to Joyce, as she stands there with a big smile on her face.

  “How did you now we were coming?” asks Elliot. He looks around the room to see magazines stacked against every wall. Above them are maps, each one a different country, each one stuck with pins, thread pulled tight between them. There is a cabinet full of military memorabilia: guns, knives, helmets, canteens, and more. The TV is showing static, with a slight hiss, but Oscar does not seem to mind.

  “I knew you would, sooner or later,” says Oscar. “It is about the murder isn't it?”

  “Yeah,” said Elliot. “What do you know?”

  “I don’t know,” says Oscar.

  “What do you mean?” asks Elliot.

  “I think that I know something, I just do not know what it is. There are a lot of things that I do know, but they are too big to be scared by the likes of me. Boy, could I tell you a thing or two, I would blow your mind. The hotel though—I started asking questions and the next day I was fired. I am not sure why, but I must have pissed off someone,” says Oscar.

  “Did they give you a reason for firing you?” asks Elliot.

  “Told me it was cutbacks.”

  “Ask him about the fifteenth,” says Joyce.

  “You want to know about the fifteenth, right? Well there is not much that I can tell you. I worked that night, but I went nowhere near the presidential suite, or whatever it is called. I was in the kitchen most of the night.”

  “Did you see anything from there?” asks Elliot.

  “I really don’t know,” says Oscar.

  “Show him a picture of David,” says Joyce. Elliot pulls put his phone and googles David Clarkson. He turns the phone around to face Oscar.

  “Oscar, did you ever see this man in the hotel?” asks Elliot.

  “Oh yes,” says Oscar. “I remember him. I was on duty that night. Took food up to his room.”

  “The presidential suite?” asks Elliot.

  “No, no. he was not in the presidential suite, he was on the third floor. Not sure why he was there. There are plenty better rooms,” says Oscar.

  “But this was the night of the fifteenth?” asks Elliot.

  “No, no. I told you, I was in the kitchen that night. This was the night before, this was the fourteenth.”

  “Are you sure you're not mixing up the dates?” asks Elliot.

  “How dare you? I never forget a date. You want to know a date? You want to know the moon landing? The Watergate scandal? Roswell? I can tell you them all, I can tell you things about them that you would not believe.”

  “It’s fine, I believe you,” says Elliot.

  “We could never use him as a witness,” says Joyce.

  “You have been very helpful,” says Elliot. “We need to go. To follow this up, do you know the room number?”

  “I am not great with numbers,” says Oscar.

  “It’s fine, we can take it from here,” says Elliot. “One more question. Was there another guy with him?”

  “Yes, there was. Big guy, looked like his security or something.”

  “Thank you, Oscar. You’ve been more help than you know,” says Elliot.

  “Will you get them?” asks Oscar.

  “I will do all I can,” says Elliot.

  “The system is screwed,” says Oscar as he is closing the door behind them.

  Elliot and Joyce go back to the hotel one more time to check the records. They find the rooms on the third floor which were rented out for the exact same time period as the presidential suite. They find that the presidential suite was rented under the name Thomas Jackson, but they knew that already—they had run it through the database and nothing had come back. It is the name of an American General, one of the greatest tacticians in history. A stroke of the ego perhaps, for whoever had stayed there.

  “There,” says Elliot.

  “What am I looking for?” asks Joyce.

  “We would not have run any more names through the database. Why would we? But look at the name there. Alexander Macedon. Sound familiar?”

  “Alexander the Great,” says Joyce. “Another general.”

  “Whoever rented this room on the third floor, room 223, rented the presidential suite,” says Elliot.

  “It is circumstantial evidence. We cannot prove anything. What are we supposed to do with this?” asks Joyce.

  “It might just be enough,” says Elliot. “I have to go to the Chief with this. We have someone renting the presidential suite. The same person rented the room on the third floor. Oscar served David and his bodyguard on the third floor, and he was fired soon after. I felt it when I met him. I know that he did it.”

  “The names on the room prove nothing. Oscar is an unreliable witness as they come. He would be destroyed in court. And a hunch means nothing. We have no solid evidence. We cannot go to the Chief with this,” says Joyce.

  “We can’t do nothing. What else are we supposed to do? If I can get him in a room, just get him talking—he’s not as clever or powerful as he thinks. His ego is big, and he’s overconfident. I can break him,” says Elliot.

  “There is no way that the Chief is going to give you a warrant for his arrest,” says Joyce.

  “I just need to bring him in, hold him for a while. He’s guilty. You know that,” says Elliot.

  “I do not know that. I have never met him. The evidence is flimsy. There must be something that we are missing, something else we can find. Someone else to talk to,” says Joyce.

  “You really think that?” asks Elliot. “You really think that there is something better than what we have? This case went cold months ago and you just found new evidence. This is all we have.”

  “Is there any link to the woman. Anything which might suggest motive?” asks Joyce.

  “Nothing that we could find. She was clean. There was nothing to suggest that she was mixed up in anything or anyone. She worked as an accountant. We got a list of the accounts she was working on and followed up with them all, but there was nothing there.”

  “Was David’s name on the list?” asks Joyce.

  “No, his name was not on the list. I would have remembered that. We checked with her employers, we checked with her friends, we checked with anyone who had worked with her recently, and they all came back with nada. There was nothing to suggest that she was mixed up in anything which would get her in trouble, let alone get her killed.”

  “But now we have more information,” says Joyce. “We do not go to the Chief just yet. Instead, we go back over the accounts, but cross-check everything with David Clarkson, using your Google. We see what comes back. Follow the evidence, find where it leads, collect information, and follow the evidence again. My old police Chief used to say that.”

  “You don't want to know what my Chief says to me,” says Elliot.

  “If we work this case the right way, then we will get the criminal in the right way. If we don’t, then you can do what you want, but the path you want to go down does not end well. It's late. Time to go home, get some rest, and look at the evidence tomorrow with fresh eyes. There is more to be done, more to be discovered.”

  “Okay,” says Elliot, “but we need to work fast. There is only so much I can do before the Chief starts to get suspicious. We look at the evidence again tomorrow, but we finish this tomorrow. We can’t wait any longer.”

  “It's a deal,” says Joyce.

  They drive home and Elliot can feel the tiredness creeping into his body.

  “What are you going to do?” asks Elliot.

  “I don't know. I may take a look behind the door you were staring at. Your neighbor must be alluring. Maybe I will disappear again, never to be seen again,” says Joyce.

  “Promise me one thing,” says Elliot.

  “What's that?” asks Joyce.

  “Please don't watch me sleep. It would be creepy,” says Ellio
t.

  “I can assure you that there is no chance of me doing that,” says Joyce. She walks through the front door and is gone. Elliot gets into bed and hopes that she will be back in the morning. Sleep comes easy. When he wakes, there is someone standing over him, staring straight down at him.

  Chapter Fourteen

  Divide And Conquer

  Elliot looks up and sees Joyce staring back down at him. He slowly opens his eyes and sits up in bed.

  “I thought that you promised you wouldn't stand there watching me sleep,” says Elliot.

  “There is not much else to do. I tried to go into another apartment, but I could not get through the door. I tried to leave the building and that is the last thing I remember. The next thing I remember is being back in this apartment. It seems that I cannot stray too far from you, or from the apartment, or the bracelet. Maybe a combination of all three,” says Joyce.

  “I need to go into the station. Will you come with me?” asks Elliot.

  “I don't think that I have a choice. Well, I do have a choice, but the alternative is to stay here or disappear into the ether,” says Joyce.

  “Give me a minute to get dressed,” says Elliot. Joyce leaves the room and Elliot slowly gets out of bed. The late nights and sporadic sleep are beginning to take their toll on his body. He is feeling weaker than he is used to. He puts on his clothes from yesterday and uses the bathroom before finding Joyce in the living room.

  “Ready to go?” he asks. She nods and stands up. Together they leave the apartment and the building.

  “Perhaps I can only enter another building with you,” says Joyce. “It's the only way that I have done it so far.”

  “I really don't understand this,” says Elliot. “The whole thing is messing with my mind.”

  “What is there to understand?” asks Joyce. “I don't even know what this is. I feel as if something is changing. I have this memory nagging at me, something at the back of my mind, but I cannot quite grasp it. It feels important, but something dangerous at the same time. It's as if I want to know, but would be happy not knowing, all rolled together into one emotion. I know that that does not make sense.”