The nurse on emergency said that Leo was under sedation and asleep. He was in no danger and she thought that he could be discharged by tomorrow. I left a message to say that I had called and gave her my personal cell number.
Ed decided to send Constable Johnson with me to speak to Deidre’s roommate, Nora. First we had to drop off Mr. Torres, who was sitting quietly in the back of the police car, Lily asleep beside him.
I got in the back seat, not wanting him to feel awkward with the protective grid separating us.
“What do you think happened to her?” he asked.
“I don’t know at this point. Did you know her well?”
“No, not at all. She live on my street, that’s all I can say. I see her perhaps once or twice when I’m walking Lily.”
“Do you live alone, Mr. Torres?”
I saw Johnson glance at me in the rear-view mirror. He could hear what I was saying and I had obviously slipped into a familiar mode of questioning. I couldn’t really help it. You can get too suspicious when you’re in homicide and can end up suspecting everybody, which isn’t helpful. On the other hand, I didn’t want to make the mistake of not asking questions that might help us later.
“Why do you ask?”
“You’ve had a shock. I wanted to make sure somebody was at home for you.”
This was a bit of prevarication on my part. I was frankly “gathering,” as we call it. Pulling in as much information as possible.
“I’ll be fine,” he said. “My mother is at home.” He leaned forward and tapped on the screen. “Turn left at the next street,” he said to Johnson. “I’m in that apartment building on the right. The one with the canopy.”
“Thank you for your help, Mr. Torres. I’ll get your things back to you as soon as I can.”
“I hope the poor man recovers.”
He slid out of the car and with Lily tucked underneath his arm he hurried away.
“Where now?” asked Johnson. He sported a moustache; perhaps he hoped it made him look older but it didn’t. He had the sort of round face and fair skin that always seemed youthful. He was also unsure of himself, which added to the general impression of gaucheness.
I sighed, not relishing the task ahead. “Let’s give the roommate the news. She’s on Mary Street.”
Lights were on in all rooms in the house, which was a small red-brick detached with a covered porch. There was a child’s tricycle on the front lawn. With Johnson behind me, I went up the steps and rang the bell. The door was opened at once. A woman, twentyish, husky, whom I presumed to be the roommate, Nora, stood in the doorway. A skinny little blonde girl of about three, still in her PJs, thumb in mouth, was beside her, eyeing me curiously. I felt a clenching in my stomach. How do you tell a child that age her mother is dead? I didn’t think I’d shown my feelings but I must have revealed something because Nora took a quick intake of breath.
“Have you found her?”
I nodded. “Do you mind if we come in? I’m Detective Sergeant Morris and this is Detective Constable Johnson.”
“I’m Nora Cochrane. We can go into the kitchen. Joy is just finishing her breakfast.” She tapped the child on the shoulder and when she looked up at her, Nora pointed to her own mouth in a gesture that was universally recognizable for food and pointed down the hall.
“You don’t have to be careful about what you say. She won’t hear you. She’s deaf.”
She took the child by the hand and stepped back so we could come in. The living room and dining room were open concept, with a plant-filled divider separating them from the hall and the stairs.
“Don’t worry about your shoes,” said Nora. “We’re back here.”
We followed her into the kitchen where she stowed Joy in a chair. She put a spoon in her hand and shoved a bowl of cereal closer to her. Then she turned to face us.
“Is Deedee dead?”
“I’m afraid so.”
Nora bit her lip hard. She was a tough-looking young woman, mannish in her red plaid lumberjack shirt and spiky black hair. A tattoo of a skull and crossbones decorated one side of her neck and she had several studs, one in her nostril, another in her lip. The kind that always made me wince.
“I knew it. I knew something bad had happened. Dee would only ever not come home if she was dead or unconscious. What happened? Was she in an accident?”
“No, I’m sorry to have to tell you this but we are treating this as an equivocal death.”
“What the fuck does that mean?”
“We found her body in the lake at Memorial Park. She appears to have been strangled.”
Nora gaped at me. “That’s fucking ridiculous! Who the hell would do that to Dee?”
“We don’t know yet.”
Seeming to sense the disturbance in the air, Joy suddenly made a guttural noise deep in her throat. She made some rapid hand signs which Nora responded to slowly and awkwardly, reinforcing her movements with words.
“Mommy at work. Joy finish brekkie now. There’s a good girl. See Mommy tonight.”
The child didn’t look convinced but she went back to spooning her cornflakes into her mouth, her eyes steady on Nora.
Behind me, Constable Johnson shuffled his feet. I could sense his discomfort with the whole situation but he’d have to get used to it if he was going to make it as a police officer. Heartbreak came with the territory.
“Where’s Leo Forgach?” Nora asked.
“He jumped into the water to help get Deidre’s body out and he’s currently at the hospital. He’ll be all right. He’s got a touch of hypothermia.”
“Yeah? I’m surprised. Him and cold water are compatible.”
Nora’s shoulders were shaking and I would have tried to comfort her, but I had the feeling she was one of those people whose grief converts into anger in a second. I thought it was wiser to keep my distance for a while. She looked up at the clock on the wall.
“I’d better call work and say I won’t be coming in. Somebody’ll have to stay with the kid.”
“Is there anybody else who can help out? I know this isn’t easy for you.”
She glared at me. “Don’t give me that fucking cop speak. You don’t have a fucking clue what I’m feeling.”
Johnson made a scolding noise. “No need to carry on like that, miss. Detective Morris is only trying to help.”
She flung him a look that would have shrivelled the soul of a stronger man.
“What isn’t easy, as you put it, is that I’m the one who has to turn my life inside out now. The kid’ll be dumped on my lap and I’m just the fucking babysitter, for God’s sake. Well, let me tell you, I’ll do it for today but that’s all. He’s going to have to find somebody else. I’m not going to lose my job for anybody.”
The words were ugly and sounded abysmally selfish but I could feel her panic underneath. I tried again.
“Miss Cochrane, I wish I could have told you the news in a softer way but there is no blunting the truth. Deidre Forgach…”
She interrupted me. “Larsen. Her name was Larsen. She changed it years ago. She took her mother’s name.”
“Deidre Larsen was most likely murdered and at the moment we don’t know who did it. We intend to find out. If you can answer some of my questions now, I would appreciate it.”
Joy growled and made signs at me. Nora managed a smile. “She wants to know why we are going bam-bam. She’s a sensitive little brat. She picks up feelings like a radio antenna.”
She signed something back to the little girl. “I told her we were just discussing something and we’re friends.” Some of the tension in the room relaxed and Joy grinned at me.
“I’m going to have to get her dressed. I’ll see if Mrs. Somerset can take her for now. She runs the daycare. It’ll be better for her there.” She beckoned to the child, who got out of the chair. Nora picked her up and held her close for a moment but Joy squirmed to be put down. “I’ll be back in a minute,” Nora said to us. “Help yourself to coffee if you want. It’s on the stove.”
The door closed behind her. Johnson exhaled ostentatiously. “Boy, why do dykes always have to prove they’ve got the biggest balls?”
I felt like snapping at him that dykes weren’t the only ones but he was too easy a target. We were all upset.