Stone and Roberts walked into the pizza restaurant at the appointed time. Boston Pizza, located in Mayfield Common, was doing a lively business at lunchtime. Roberts and Stone didn’t receive undue attention when they walked through the dining room, spotting Corporal Roberta Constantino at one of the back booths. Stone suspected she received more attention on her stroll past the tables since she was wearing an RCMP uniform.
She gave them a warm smile as they approached.
“Well, Detective Stone, you do clean up well. Quite a change from your motorbike persona.”
Stone laughed. “My alter ego. This is Anya Roberts, my partner.”
Constantino looked between Roberts and Stone several times. She appeared to want to say something, stopped, and merely acknowledged Roberts. “Good to meet you, Anya.”
Roberts guessed Constantino was speculating on to what extent Stone and she were partners. “So, you were the one who pulled Moss over for speeding.”
“Yeah. I had a good quota of tickets issued already, so I decided to let him off after he gave an excuse of thinking too much about women.”
Roberts laughed. “He does have problems with women.”
Stone held up a hand. “How about we talk about the reason why we’re here. Murder case. Does that ring any bells?”
Roberts smiled at Constantino. “But it’s so much more fun making Moss feel uncomfortable.”
Stone sighed as the two women laughed.
Constantino turned serious. “All right. I really do need some help on this. My first murder investigation, so I could use your help on how to approach this. The murder occurred in a house near the downtown area of Stony Plain. Travis Moore was renting the house but was previously from Edmonton. He had been living in Stony Plain for a couple of months.”
Stone slid a folder over to Constantino. “This is his criminal record. Disorderly conduct, speeding tickets, drinking and driving on more than one occasion. He has a suspended licence. He was convicted of a hit and run of a pedestrian, who later died.”
Constantino read out loud from the report. “He wasn’t charged with drinking and driving that time. I’m guessing by the time they found him, it was too late to measure the alcohol content in his blood. Still, he served three months in jail and lost his licence for a year.”
“Not much time for killing someone,” Roberts commented.
Constantino shrugged. “It’s our justice system.” She paused as the server took their orders and then resumed speaking to Roberts and Stone. “Judging by his police record, he may have made a few enemies. It could be that he got into an altercation in his house that resulted in his death.”
“How did he die?” Stone inquired.
“Blunt force trauma to the head. It wasn’t a pretty sight. Several blows and lots of blood loss.”
“Any murder weapon found?”
“No. And there wasn’t any sign of forced entry either. We are working on the assumption he knew his killer.”
Stone took a drink of his coffee. “How big was Moore? What kind of condition was he in physically?”
“He was fifty-four years old. Slim, very slim build, maybe one hundred and fifty pounds. He stood five foot nine.”
“Any signs of defensive wounds?”
“There were marks on one hand. None on his arms.”
Stone continued with his questions. “When did the death occur? Who discovered his body?”
“A friend of his, Brian Greenly. Greenly was quite upset about discovering the body, as you might expect. They were going to Edmonton to go to Costco. Since Moore didn’t have a licence, Greenly offered to take him. From what I gather, Greenly and Moore were mere acquaintances, not drinking buddies. They were supposed to get together just before lunchtime, and Moore was going to buy him lunch at the River Cree Casino. We’re tentatively putting the time of death sometime after nine a.m.” Constantino waited as their lunch was placed on the table. “I’m checking the local bars to see if he was in any arguments the night before, but so far I don’t have any suspects.”
“Fair enough. Judging by what you said that there were multiple blows to the head, this wasn’t just an argument gone to an extreme. Someone meant to kill him. If it happened in the morning, then it wasn’t on impulse after a few drinks.”
“That’s a good point. More like someone planned to kill him.”
“With the type of attack you mentioned, and a large amount of blood loss, I would expect the killer would have blood spatters on their clothing.”
“There was also a spot on the floor where the killer stepped on some of the blood.”
“That will help when you find a suspect. You can check their clothing and the bottom of the shoes for evidence of blood. As for finding a suspect, I have a suggestion. You may want to canvass the surrounding neighbourhood if there were any vehicles parked that don’t belong to anyone living there. If the killer made a visit to Moore with the intention to kill him, then they would not have wanted to have parked in front of his house. Too easy for a witness to make note of the vehicle. The killer may have parked a block or two away.”
At the end of the lunch, Stone insisted on paying for it, telling Constantino he owed her a favour for letting him off on a speeding ticket.
She laughed. “That’s all right. Just stop thinking about women when you drive.”
Roberts buckled her seat belt and commented, “She seemed nice.”
“Yeah, she’s all right. Easy to talk to.”
“What did she mean by don’t think about women while driving? Exactly which women were you thinking about?”
“Just a joke. I told her I was speeding because I was thinking of my girlfriend.”
She decided not to press for more information. But Roberta did say, women, as in plural. Does that mean anything? “Are we going to go back to work on our own murder investigation now?”
“Yeah. Carlton’s cell phone had some information we can work with, like his recent contacts.”
“Probably a lovely crowd.”
“No doubt.”
Roberts opened the file and saw the list of names associated with phone numbers located on Carlton’s cell. “I know one of these names.”
“Really? How?”
“My cousin.”
“Your cousin?”
“Yeah, Ben Thomason,” Roberts replied. “He does real estate. He never married but lives common-law with Chantelle. Two kids.” She frowned.
“The black sheep of the family?”
“I suppose so. They seem nice enough, but Ben is so full of himself. Acts a bit immature. Drinks too much at family get-togethers. Chantelle used to be an exotic dancer.”
“A stripper?” Stone peered at Roberts with renewed interest.
“She prefers the term exotic dancer and isn’t shy about letting people know of her past.” She looked back at him. “Maybe you’ll recognize her.”
He laughed. “Maybe I will. I have to admit, I did have a wild past.”
“Just your past?”
“I’m a saint compared to what I used to be.”
“I’ll let the pope know of your new status.”
The home of Ben Thomason and Chantelle Dawson was a newish two-story home on the south side of Edmonton. Roberts had phoned ahead of time to let Thomason know they were coming over. As soon as Stone’s car stopped in front of the home, Thomason stepped outside of the house.
Stone looked up at him as he stood on the front steps. Tall with dark hair, he wore dress pants and shirt.
“Anya, how are you doing?” He went down the concrete steps and met them halfway to the house.
“I’m fine. This is Moss Stone.” She indicated Stone with her hand and waited as Thomason shook his hand. “We’re investigating the death of Jacob Carlton.”
“Jacob Carlton?” He sounded puzzled at first, then acknowledged the name. “I do know a Jacob but not his last name.”
Stone responded. “This Jacob knew you. He had your cell number in his phone.”
“Yeah. Look, I only know him because I bought some pot from him. Just the odd time.”
Stone noticed a blonde woman standing by the door, her features partially obscured by the screen door. “How often did you buy from him?”
“Hmm, maybe four, six, seven times.”
Stone raised his eyebrows. “Counting isn’t your strong suit, I take it. When was the last time you spoke to or saw Jacob? I need you to be a little more exact on this question.” He saw the woman had stepped outside and was approaching them. Her face was without expression.
Thomason pulled his large cell phone from his pocket and checked the screen. After a few moments, he answered, “Fifteen days ago I texted him I needed some pot. Two days later I met him, and I paid him for a bag.”
The blonde looked at Roberts and Stone. “What’s going on here?”
Thomason replied, “Honey, this is the police. They’re investigating the death of the guy I buy pot from.”
She crossed her arms. “Well, he certainly didn’t have anything to do with that.”
Stone studied the woman wearing blue jean shorts and a fitted sleeveless green top. He speculated she may have gained a bit of weight since her dancing days but still was a looker.
“We’re not saying he did, but he may have information about the victim.” He turned his attention back to Thomason. “What time did you meet and where?”
“It was in the afternoon, in the parking lot of the Dragonhead’s Bar. I met him in the bar, had a beer, and then we went outside for a smoke. We did our business there.”
Dawson interrupted. “I better go and check on the kids.” She walked back to the house.
Stone noticed her walk was that of a woman expected to be watched coming and going. “Why in the parking lot and not inside the bar?”
“The manager of the bar gets upset if he sees anyone doing drug sales inside the bar. If he sees you do it, then you’re banned.”
“Okay, so you only bought, not sold?”
“Right.”
“Why him? How did you meet him?”
“I was in the bar one night and saw him. He looked like a guy who sold stuff, so I bought a small amount. His price was average and it was good quality, so I went to him afterward.”
“Was he with anyone anytime you saw him?”
“No, I think he was pretty much alone. Mind you, I usually met him in the parking lot or outside somewhere. So, if he was with anyone, they were probably waiting for him inside the bar.”
“Okay, that’s it for now. Thanks for your time, Mr. Thomason.”
“Anya, what’s going to happen now? Is my name going to come out on this?”
“If you told us everything, then this may be it. Look, I’m not going to lecture you and Chantelle on smoking pot, but you better not start using harder stuff. You’re responsible for the well-being of your kids, Daniele and Katie. Don’t screw up because you feel the need to escape reality.”
He nodded. “I promise.”
Stone spoke as they drove off. “He seems okay.”
“He’s all right. He makes good money but spends it on stupid stuff. Like he owns a big boat that he maybe uses twice a year.”
“It’s their money. She doesn’t work?”
“No. Stay-home mom.”
“Good for her. She’s still good-looking.”
“Yeah, she works out a lot. I assume you didn’t recognize her from her past stage performances.”
“No, she kept her clothes on.”