JD RETURNED TO the detachment after her shoe-shopping trip to Park Royal and accessed the school surveillance footage. She and Shiomi had edited it down to a five-second clip — Shiomi’s glitch — that focused on the few frames where a white blob appeared on the subject’s toe.
The best frames, if printed out large and placed on the wall, would be wholly uninteresting, but once set in motion, scrubbed back and forth, JD found them fascinating indeed. She didn’t wait till morning but made some calls. First she talked over her discovery with Leith, who said he would join her shortly. Then she contacted Robbie Clark.
To her surprise, she was able to reach him easily. Yes, he was able and willing to come in. Yes, now, even at nearly 8:00 p.m.
“What’s it all about?” he asked, over the line.
“Just come on down,” JD told him. “We’ll talk.”
Clark arrived so fast he must have thrown on coat and boots and made a beeline straight out the door. He now sat in an interview room waiting, alone but observed through the one-way mirror. He didn’t look nervous to JD. Curious and alert, but amiable as always.
But was he really so cool? His fingers and toes were taking turns betraying anxiety, softly drumming, casually tapping. He wore his usual jeans, but his footwear of choice tonight was a round-toed pair of Blundstones. No chrome, no flamboyant swirls.
Leith arrived, and he and JD watched their suspect sweat. “I’m going to hit hard on this one,” JD said. “No small talk, no sympathy.” It was the best approach with a guy like this, she was thinking. She was marvelling, too, that all it had taken was one sparkling boot tip for her to see right through him. She had him peeled open. She knew he was carrying a burden. Maybe she had known all along, a cue subconsciously registered, maybe converted into what she imagined was attraction.
She also believed he would be easy to crack, but it would take a firm hand. Lead him to the confessional booth and kick him inside. All she needed was for Leith to say, Go for it.
“If you think so,” he told her. He looked far from sold. “You’re sure you can do this?”
“It’s what I live for.”
She had shown Leith the portion of the video in question. He said it didn’t look like a pointy cowboy boot to him. And that white blob wasn’t necessarily the ambient light catching a steel toe. And even if it was, Robbie Clark wasn’t the only man in the world who wore steel-tipped boots, and the image was a far cry from a match to the bruise on Tasha Aziz’s abdomen.
But he seemed semi-convinced as he studied Clark now. JD turned her eyes to Clark as well, and guessed that he realized he was being studied, for he had ceased tapping and drumming. He had crossed his arms loosely over his chest and seemed intrigued by a poster on the wall beside him.
“D’you have anything else besides the boots?” Leith asked. “It’s mighty thin, JD.”
“I have more,” she said. “That something special in his eyes when we talk, that tick-tick-tick of conflict. He knows he’s paddling up shit creek. And sure, he’s got a paddle, but just watch me grab it.”
She grinned at her own vulgar poetry, but Leith didn’t. He was a bit prissy, she knew. A bit over-religious about the RCMP’s squeaky-clean corporate image. An image that had kind of lost its shine, with shame and scandals regularly hitting the news. “Well?” she said. “Do I have your blessing?”
“Do your best,” he said.
JD took the chair across from Clark. He had asked on arrival what kind of trouble he was in, and she now told him. “I’ve got evidence you were at the school grounds, Robbie. That’s why you’re here. Surveillance video. It caught you. Enough to identify you. Okay?”
His eyes searched hers. Maybe he was looking for proof that this was some kind of dirty trick. But overlying his wariness JD thought she saw embarrassment. Which disturbed her. Who, having committed murder, would feel sheepish about it?
Setting her doubts aside, she said, “You know the school has video surveillance, right? You know where the blind spots are, and you know how to dodge ’em. Did it take a lot of practice? And how did you screw up? Puddles got in the way, you took a sidestep to avoid them, and walked into the frame by mistake? No, wait.” She snapped her fingers. “You didn’t sidestep anything. You splashed right through the water in your cowboy boots. Yeah, uh-huh,” she said, as the truth appeared to dawn on her suspect. “Your boots are distinctive, Robert. So now you know why you’re here. And I want you to come clean with me.”
“No, listen. I didn’t —”
“No,” JD said with the kind of overblown passion she reserved for special occasions. She knew the effect this had on people. Colleagues, suspects, and family all sat up and listened when her voice went rough around the edges. “You listen to me,” she snapped. “A little advice. It’s true what they say, the less work you make for the system, the more understanding the system will be when it comes to trial. It could make all the difference. Right?”
He nodded like he got it.
His nod pleased her, fuelled her. She softened her tone and extended an olive branch. “I know you’re a good man,” she said. “A smart man. You know the line between right and wrong. You know what you did was wrong. The worst kind of wrong. You know it. Now, come on. Let’s get on the road to making amends. You can’t undo what’s done, but you can lessen the impact. Ease the pain of the family. Okay?”
“Family?” he said. “What family?”
JD frowned at him. He was wincing. Had their lines crossed? What was she not understanding here? “Look,” she said. “Robert. I’m here to find out what happened. Not judge you. I know as much as you do about the bad choices we all can make —”
His palms hit the tabletop with a loud crack.
JD blinked.
Clark took a deep breath and shouted, “Christ, is that what this is about? The janitor? Yes, I was there that night, but I didn’t do anything to her. I didn’t even see her. I didn’t even know about her until the next day. I was there to make a pickup. No, I don’t want to admit it, but if you’re accusing me of murder, then I’ve got no choice, have I?”
“A pickup …” JD said.
“In a hidey-hole in the school’s foundation. That’s where Kyler leaves my stuff.” He stopped a moment before moodily releasing the zinger. “My weed.”
JD reconnoitred, watching him steadily. Mustn’t waver. She could see where this was headed. Whether true or not, he had come up with a cover story. “Kind of a stupid place to deal drugs, isn’t it?” she said. “Under the lens of the surveillance camera and at your own workplace?”
“Stupid, yes. And stupid to buy from a student, who’s now got me under his thumb. It’s a long and unflattering story. But it somehow just ended up this way. I’d undo it if I could, believe me. Too late. He calls the shots.”
Called, JD mentally corrected. But Clark wasn’t aware of Kyler’s death. Another toppled domino, and she wasn’t ready to tell him.
Clark’s demeanour had altered with his confession. His gaze was steady, maybe even relieved. “I leave cash as I leave work for the day,” he said. “I come back later to pick up the product. It’s not a regular thing. Once in a blue moon, really.”
“You pick up this product from a hidey-hole that you’re going to show me shortly, right?”
“Of course. That day, the day the janitor was killed, I didn’t make it back till quite late. Sure, I knew how to avoid the cameras, but nobody monitors that footage unless something happens. Just my luck something happened that night.” He pinkened. “Of course, my bad luck is nothing next to hers.”
“Go on.”
“I picked up my pot. A dime bag. That’s the largest amount I’ll go for. Keep it small-scale, because I’m always planning to quit tomorrow. Which is easier said than done.” He stopped cold and gave JD a morose stare. “I’m going to lose my job over this, aren’t I?”
“That’s not for me to say.”
He shook his head, and seemed to be staring blindly into the distance. “Actually, JD, I’m not sure I care,” he said, startling her with the use of her first name. “Been counselling students way too long. Time for a change, right? Maybe I’ll get back in the garage. Auto body repair. Won’t get the union benefits, but it’s a whole lot easier to fix a dented fender than a depressed teenager.”
His laugh sounded full of regret. JD continued to watch for signs that he was play-acting.
“Anyway,” he went on, “I was stuffing the baggie in my pocket when I saw somebody heading to the parking lot. I took a step closer to see who it was. Pretty sure it was Kyler, by the size and shape of him, and the way he walks. Not sure why he was hanging around, but whatever. I had no desire to talk to him. I walked back to the street, where I’d parked my car, and got out of there, like, fast.”
“You didn’t park in the back?”
He eyed her sharply. “No. Why would I?”
“You saw Tasha, though.”
He denied it. “I did not see the janitor. I didn’t know anyone was around except Kyler.”
“What if someone had seen you? Hard to explain what you’re doing hanging around the schoolyard at that hour.”
“Had a folder of papers with me. I’d say I had to pick up something from my office.”
It was all adding up to a likely story, and JD could picture Leith behind the glass, looking smug. But whatever. She was moving the case forward, if only in fits and starts. If Clark was telling the truth and was right about Kyler being in the parking lot that night, the case could be resolved. Not a good ending, as Kyler would never get the chance to voice his remorse to Tasha’s family, which might help in their healing.
On the other hand, if Clark was telling the truth but was wrong about Kyler, then the killer was still an unknown, still out there.
She had to face it. Clark’s presence at the scene that night, his drug use, his demeanour, it was all hot stuff, but not enough to write up a report to Crown counsel. He would remain a person of interest, but not much more. So she released him.
Leith told JD she’d done good work. She almost told him to take his condescension and go to hell. Instead, she smiled grimly and went to her desk to simmer down. She didn’t sit but stood by the nearby window and stared down at the street. Movement below caught her eye, and she watched her pothead cowboy make his way along the sidewalk.
Scurrying, in her eyes. She saw Clark angrily remove a flyer from the windshield of a car parked curbside — a long black sedan — climb in and drive away with a squeal of tires.