Early on Wednesday morning Bourke bounded into Carol’s office. “We got Berringer. A little worse for wear.”
“He put up a fight?”
“Hardly. What he did do was try to shake Kenneth Raeburn down over Collis’ homosexuality. I’d say Raeburn wanted to flush Berringer out of the woodwork, so he arranged to pay him off. Berringer won’t say how much it was, and he didn’t have it long. He had time to boast a bit about how smart he’d been, then two very large gentlemen gave him a very painful going over and, to add insult to injury, took the money back. That was enough to send Berringer straight into hiding.” He grinned with obvious pleasure as he added, “Our Kenneth didn’t take at all kindly to my visit yesterday, so I imagine he’s going to be even more unhappy today after I mention including him in possible assault charges when we pick up his goons.”
Carol showed her doubt. “What credibility would this Berringer character have in court against someone like Kenneth Raeburn?”
“Very little,” said Bourke agreeably, “but I’m going to have fun suggesting it’s a possibility. This should shut Raeburn up quite effectively.”
“Anne called in a few minutes ago. She’s found a cub reporter on the Sentinel who fielded a telephone inquiry about whether Collis Raeburn was dead, but it was on Sunday, before his body’d been found. The journalist was just a kid, and didn’t realize there might be something worth following up.”
“Don’t suppose the person left a name?”
Without pleasure Carol said, “No, Mark, but it was a woman. Also, I called Pat at work this morning and asked her some questions about the Saturday night reception at the Museum of Modern Art.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Helpful?”
“I think we’re near an arrest. I’d like you and Anne in my office at two.”
“Come in, Inspector. We’ve been waiting for you.” Carol felt like an interloper, guarded on one side by Mark Bourke and by Anne Newsome on the other. She said formally, “Thank you for agreeing to a joint interview.”
Alanna went to stand beside Lloyd Clancy. Behind them, through the open balcony doors, the blue water of Manly Cove shimmered in the afternoon sun. Carol felt a pang of pity and compassion as she saw Alanna take Lloyd Clancy’s hand and hold it tightly.
Lloyd Clancy gestured, the thoughtful host. “Please, make yourselves comfortable.”
Alanna and Clancy sat beside each other on a couch, still holding hands. Carol thought of all the roles these two had taken, where intense, flamboyant emotions were translated into glorious music. She remembered Aïda where, as now, they were doomed lovers. This was an anticlimax, this real drama ending so mundanely in a harborside apartment.
“You know why we’re here,” Carol said with quiet authority.
Alanna looked at her steadily. “Yes, we do.”
“Do you object to us recording this interview?”
Alanna shook her head slowly, and Bourke efficiently set up the tape recorder on the coffee table. He nodded to Carol to indicate he was ready. She took no pleasure in reciting the formal words of the caution, adding to make sure they understood, “You don’t have to say anything now if you don’t wish to.”
“It’s quite all right,” Alanna said. “It’ll be a relief, actually.”
Bourke said, “Collis Raeburn didn’t kill himself. He was murdered in a way that was intended to look like suicide.”
Lloyd Clancy sighed. “I’ll save you the trouble of spelling it out. I can’t imagine how to say this without sounding overly dramatic, but I killed Collis. No one helped-it was just me.”
Carol said with real regret, “That’s not true.”
“Sweetheart, don’t,” Alanna said to Clancy. “I’m sure the Inspector knows.”
Lloyd was haggard, but his look to Alanna was so full of love that Carol almost winced. She said, “You went to a lot of trouble to make people think you hated each other.”
“We thought it would stop any suspicion that we might be working together,” said Alanna. She looked embarrassed. “The idea of threatening to sue Lloyd was my idea, but it was over the top, I see that now.”
“Why did you make the phone calls to check if Raeburn was dead? You knew he was.”
“Lloyd knew,” said Alanna, “but I didn’t. We couldn’t be seen anywhere near each other at the reception, that would have been too dangerous. And we’d agreed not to use the telephone because there might be a record of the calls. I kept on thinking that Collis might be lying there, still alive, and if he were to recover…” She made a face. “It was stupid, but I had no idea when the hotel would open the room, and I was frantic to know if he was dead. I tried the newspaper, but drew a blank. When nothing had been in the news by early Monday morning, I tried the hotel.”
Lloyd Clancy coughed painfully.
Bourke said, “You’re not well, Mr. Clancy. Can I get you some water?”
He smiled faintly. “I think it’s the flu, but of course I keep thinking it’s something worse…”
“When did you realize that Collis Raeburn had infected Ms Brooks, and through her, you?”
Alanna answered. “Collis finally got up the courage to tell me six weeks ago. It took a while to sink in that I was probably going to die from AIDS. And when I found that I’d infected Lloyd… that’s when the rage began… that’s when I knew I wanted to exterminate Collis.”
Anne Newsome said faintly, “There’s treatment for AIDS…”
Alanna nodded wearily. “Yes, Sergeant, of course we’ve both had the latest medical advice, but my immune system is seriously compromised, and Lloyd’s T-cell count is falling.” She laughed bitterly. “You know, even though he’d been infected longer, Collis was doing better than either of us. He’d had pneumonia, but seemed to recover well. AIDS affects everyone differently, but that didn’t seem fair to me.”
Lloyd Clancy said, “Collis didn’t care, Inspector. He never said he was sorry because he couldn’t see he’d done anything wrong. Bad luck, he called it. And he was sure he’d be all right… Thought he had a charmed life.”
“Why did you kill him?”
Alanna answered. “I asked him if he’d told others he’d slept with-Corinne for example-and he said he wasn’t going to, that he’d only told me because of old times and because he knew I couldn’t tell anyone else without ruining my own life.”
“He was an egotistical monster,” said Lloyd. “Collis really believed that, for him, ordinary rules and standards didn’t apply, and other people were there for his use. And now he’d condemned us both. Alanna’s – my life is singing. Opera’s demanding, exhausting. We both realized it would be only a matter of time before one or both of us couldn’t continue. We decided to kill him for what he’d done to us… and would continue to do to others.”
He rubbed his face wearily and Carol suggested they stop for coffee or tea. The recorder was switched off and Lloyd Clancy, Anne and Bourke went to the kitchen. Alanna said to Carol, “Inspector, you understand, don’t you?”
“I think I do, yes.”
“What will happen to us?”
What a pair of amateurs these two are, Carol thought. She was sure Alanna would reject pity, so she said matter-of-factly, “Plead not guilty at the committal hearing and apply for bail. I’ll do everything I can to see that you get it. That way you can spend more time together.”
“With a bit of luck,” said Alanna with mordant humor, “we might die before we ever come to trial.”
When they resumed, Alanna seemed to have new energy. “We used a duplicate checklist. We knew we couldn’t make any mistakes. Lloyd and I went separately to the reception in the Museum of Modern Art and we each made sure we spoke to as many people as possible. I had a large shoulder bag with me-not the sort I usually carry, but I had to hide cotton gloves, a bottle of whiskey and the suicide handbook in it. I knew the sleeping tablets Collis used-we’d been lovers, after all-and I’d managed to get a doctor to prescribe the same brand for me. I crushed more than half of them, dissolving them as much as possible until they made a solution which I put in an old medicine bottle. The other half I kept in tablet form in case Collis hadn’t brought any with him, but he had, so in the end I didn’t need them.”
She grimaced. “It sounds bizarre describing it like this, but at the time it seemed like the script of a movie-not quite real, but logical and right. About eight o’clock I slipped out of the Museum and walked the few minutes to the hotel. I’d spoken to Collis in the afternoon and he’d told me he had his usual room, so I went up the fire stairs to his floor. He was surprised to see me, but he’d just finished a bottle of wine and he was quite relaxed. Actually, Collis was feeling proud of himself because he’d called Corinne and told her I was staying on as his singing partner. I remember he said, ‘See, I’m making it up to you’ and that made me so angry that I really wanted to kill him. He’d infected me with the HIV virus and he thought this would make it up to me! I smiled and showed him the bottle of Johnny Walker Black Label. It was always his favorite drink-and he was quite happy to have me serve him. While I was getting ice from the bar fridge I poured some of the solution into his glass. He said it didn’t taste quite right, but I pointed out he’d just eaten tuna and he was a bit tipsy, so he kept drinking. I just pretended to sip mine…”
Her voice trailed off. To encourage her, Bourke said, “And he didn’t suspect anything was wrong?”
Her mouth twisted. “He’d never think I’d be a threat to him. Do you know what we talked about? The treatment he was having for the virus. The new drugs he’d had sent from overseas. He told me how great it was to be able to discuss it with someone who understood. I was glad he was saying these things because it made it so much easier for me. He started to get sleepy and I persuaded him to lie on the bed. He was still talking, slurring his words, when Lloyd knocked in a code we’d agreed on. I put on the cotton gloves and let him in. Collis was very vague, but he still wanted to know what Lloyd was doing there, though he didn’t seem to mind when we didn’t answer. Lloyd put on his gloves and I gave him the sleeping tablet solution and the copy of The Euthanasia Handbook in its plastic wrap. Then I washed the glass I’d used and checked my list to make sure I’d done everything.”
Carol said, “Did you take his journal?”
Alanna flushed with anger. “It was open on the table because he’d been writing in it. When I left I took it, because I thought it might mention me and Lloyd.”
“Did it?”
“I’ve burnt the journal, Inspector, but I’m glad I read it. It made me sure that we were doing the right thing.”
“You put the Do Not Disturb on the door?”
“Yes. Then I went back to the Museum. I’d been away for a bit over an hour, but there were so many people there I was fairly sure I hadn’t been missed, and I made sure I was seen from then on.”
“Now it’s my narrative,” said Lloyd with a sketchy attempt at a smile. “It was just after nine when I ordered coffee and had all calls to the room stopped. Naturally it was assumed I was Collis. I waited until the coffee was left outside, poured him a cup, added some of Alanna’s solution and held it while he had some. As soon as he was completely unconscious I took out my checklist and put it on the bedside table so I wouldn’t forget anything. I remember thinking how awful it would be if I killed him, shut the door behind me, then remembered the list was still there… Anyway, I wiped the whiskey bottle and his glass, in case Alanna had touched either of them, and put his fingerprints on each of them. I took the handbook out of its plastic and did the same with it. By now he was breathing in great, slow, snoring gasps… it was horrible and I wanted him to stop. I took the plastic bag I had folded in my pocket, found one of his neckties, and put the bag over his head and tied it.”
“You got all these details from the handbook?” He sighed at Bourke’s question. “In the book it sounded so clinical. I hadn’t realized how awful it would be, Collis lying there with his head wrapped in plastic and the heat of his breath steaming it up inside. He coughed and made a choking noise. He was lying completely still and I waited for him to start breathing again, but he didn’t. I made sure I hadn’t left anything, picked up the list and checked the room about three times. And then I looked at him and it was horrible, him with his head in a bag. I saw he’d vomited, and though I hated him, I couldn’t leave him like that. I took off the tie and stuffed it in my pocket, then eased off the plastic bag-the air in it was hot, so damp and smelly and I thought I’d vomit too. Collis was dead, but I found I just had to wash his face. Dampened one of his handkerchiefs and cleaned him up, put the handkerchief with the plastic bag and the book wrapping in my pocket, tipped over the glass of whiskey and scattered the pills across the carpet. I left his bottle of painkillers in the bathroom cabinet and I took any other medication he had.”
His smile was completely without humor. “Alanna and I thought, you see, that there was no reason for anyone to discover he was HIV-positive, unless they found Collis had drugs to treat it.”
Carol said gently, “It’s standard in a post mortem to do a blood test for it.”
“We didn’t know that. There were a lot of things we didn’t take into account.”
“You dropped the tie,” said Carol, almost regretfully.
“Yes, I was in such a hurry to get out of there-I was panicking because I couldn’t stand to be in the room with him. I turned on the television and the air-conditioning, and I ran. The tie wasn’t in my pocket when I chucked everything else into a litter bin, but of course I couldn’t go back because I had to leave his key inside the room.”
“Tell me,” said Carol with real curiosity, “did you arrange him so his hand was draped artistically?”
Lloyd looked down, obviously embarrassed. “I’m afraid I did. It didn’t look right to me, the way he was lying. I thought it would be more convincing the way I arranged it.”
That’s the trouble, thought Carol, you were trying too hard to be certain it looked like suicide.
Later, over subdued case-closed drinks at the nearest pub, Bourke said, “No wonder they caved in, Carol. Your manner even convinced me you knew every detail-and I knew you didn’t.”
Anne added her own admiring nod.
Carol swirled the whiskey in her glass. “I was sure two people were involved because of the phone calls. Obviously, whoever waited for Raeburn to die, then removed the plastic bag from his head, knew the murder was successful… so who was the second person ringing the paper and the hotel manager to make certain?”
Anne said, “Someone who wasn’t sure Raeburn was dead.”
“Yes, Anne, but why would you not know he was dead? The person must have left the hotel room before Raeburn died and then had no way of finding out exactly what had happened. This meant there must be some reason why these two people would make strenuous efforts not to be linked together-so I was looking for a couple who had a strong joint motive, but who appeared to be quite separate from each other.”
“Right,” Anne said, “but why did it have to be Lloyd Clancy and Alanna Brooks?”
“Look at any other possible combination. Raeburn and his daughter?”
“Supportive of each other,” supplied Bourke.
Carol nodded. “Nicole and Welton-they’re friends who even saw me together. And who and why would anyone want to combine with Corinne Jawalski?”
“Well, what about Welton and Livingston?” argued Anne. “Welton attacked Edward Livingston, and they both had a motive over Dingo.”
Again Carol nodded, pleased with the young constable. “It was a possibility, but the motive didn’t seem strong enough. Other combinations, such as Raeburn with Welton, didn’t work either. But Lloyd and Alanna did.” She ticked off her points. “They had the opportunity-the reception they attended was near Raeburn’s hotel and Pat told me it was very crowded, with people coming and going all night. They had the motive. Although Alanna had renewed her relationship with Collis, she denied it after his death because she knew of his HIV status and that she was infected. She also denied, as did Lloyd, that they had had a relationship-why bother to do this unless they had something to hide?”
“And both of them attacked each other to show how alienated they were,” said Anne, raising her wineglass in salute to Carol.
Bourke grinned at Anne. “Mind like a steel trap, Constable. Make a detective out of you yet.” He grew more serious as he said to Carol, “Collis Raeburn’s sex partners are in for an awful shock when this hits the papers-and there’s no way that it won’t.”
“Yes,” Carol said grimly, thinking about Corinne Jawalski, Graeme Welton and Edward Livingston, and hoping that the horrific toll of this virus would not end up taking in the entire Eureka Opera Company.
Mark said softly to Carol, “The word’s filtered down to me not to press charges as far as Kenneth Raeburn’s concerned, which will keep your name out of the media, Carol.”
“For the moment,” she said dryly.
Anne’s indignation was plain. “He shouldn’t get away with it!”
“He hasn’t,” said Bourke, “his whole world’s blown up in his face and his precious son’s reputation with it.” He touched his beer mug to Carol’s glass as he added, “You know, we cops close ranks over some things-no one’s going to be talking to the media about you.”
Carol sipped her whiskey, inspecting this new shift in the center of her universe. She was out now, to her own family and to her police family. She was no fool-there would be problems, serious ones. But it felt right. And good. Very good indeed…
“Oh God!” she said suddenly. “Talking about the media reminds me of Simon Sykes. He demanded I tie up the case by Wednesday and now I’ve bloody well done it to his schedule.