Moss Stone dropped into his office chair, clutching a coffee cup. He looked over at his partner and offered a tired, “Good morning.”
“It’s morning, all right.” She clicked a few keys on her keyboard and studied the monitor for a moment. “What do we do about our Carlton investigation? So far, we haven’t had much luck with our interviews or any other leads.” She clicked another key on her keyboard. “His car didn’t show anything unexpected. Fast food wrappers, a package of cigarettes, an empty pop can, a small amount of pot in the glove compartment, and a half tank of gas.”
“I guess we recycle. We redo the interviews and dig out more information. Maybe we can find something else in his past.” He pondered his coffee momentarily. “Was there anything unusual in his wallet?”
“No, a couple of twenties and three fives. His driver’s licence, a library card, of all things, and a credit card. Not much else.”
“Let’s see where he’s used the credit card. Maybe where he used it will tell us something.”
“Okay, I’ll get a list.”
The credit card purchase list didn’t reveal anything unusual. The use of the card revealed when he may have been short of cash. Purchases were bunched together and then stopped. A week or two later the card use increased again.
Stone and Roberts did stop at the Domo gas station and the convenience stores, but the clerks didn’t recall anything about his visits. The liquor store, Kegs and More, did offer slightly more information.
Moss and Roberts entered what appeared to be a small store in the west end of the city. A sign on the wood door pleaded to keep the door closed as, “The dog is an escape artist.” Slightly amused at the handwritten sign, Moss scanned the basic shelves holding various alcoholic products. A few cases of wine were stacked on the floor, with another sign showing the reduced price.
“Can I help you?” a voice growled at him.
Stone turned to the man sitting behind the counter. He was a big man and his face didn’t reveal whether he was friendly or not.
Roberts spoke up, showing her police identification. “We’re investigating the murder of Jacob Carlton. It seems he made a few purchases here.”
“Jacob Carlton? Skinny dude?” He paused, “I’m Mark, by the way.”
Stone stepped forward. “Yeah, that’d be him. Know anything about him?”
“Not much. He came in here a few times. Sometimes paid cash, other times a credit card. He’d chat us up and then ask for a better deal on beer. I felt a bit sorry for him, he looked poor, and I’d try to save him a bit of dough.”
“You do that a lot, bargain prices?”
“No, just in certain cases. Good karma to help out others.”
Stone nodded, starting to like the man behind the counter. “This seems like an odd location for a liquor store. It can’t be that busy here.”
“You should see the back. The rest of the store is mostly warehouse. A bulk of our business is to licensees. We supply a lot of bars. The liquor store part is just a convenience for our customers.”
“Interesting. Getting back to Carlton, do you know of anyone who would want to do him harm? Did he ever come in with anyone?”
Mark shook his head. “No on both counts. Sorry, all we did was sell him beer.”
Stone picked up a bottle of wine. “Good price for a California pinot noir.”
“Yeah, we have a lower markup. Buy a whole case and I’ll give you an even better deal.”
“I’ll keep that in mind. Thanks for your help.”
“No problem.”
Roberts walked back with Stone to his car. “What do you think?”
“I think this may be a good place to buy booze.”
“I mean about Carlton.”
“I think Carlton knew where he could get a fair price on beer. Other than that, nothing.”
“Then I guess it’s back to interviewing.”
“It is. Let’s go to his parents first.”
Joseph and Marlene Carlton were pleasant when the detectives appeared at their home again.
Joseph Carlton immediately asked, “Can you tell us of the progress you’ve made in finding Jacob’s killer? Do you have any suspects?”
Stone replied, “We’re currently reviewing information, although we don’t have a suspect yet. You mentioned before that Jacob was involved in a car accident that left the victim partially paralyzed. Do you recall any more details regarding the settlement?”
“There isn’t much more to tell. It was basically handled by the insurance company. I believe Jacob had to appear in court and explain the events of that night.”
“Was there any contact between Jacob and the victim afterward? Or even from her family or friends?”
“Not that I’m aware of. Of course, Jacob didn’t keep in touch with us, so I guess we wouldn’t know if someone from her family contacted him.”
“Who was his lawyer?”
Carlton walked to the dining room and opened a drawer of a small corner table. He returned with a business card. “Here’s the law office that we used.”
Marlene asked, “Do you think someone from her family had something to do with Jacob’s death?”
“We’re just following up all possible leads. At the present time, we don’t have any reason to believe Jillian Cramer or her family are responsible for what happened to Jacob.”
“Then why do you want to see the lawyer we used?”
Stone put the business card in his shirt pocket. “Because everything is connected.”
Roberts closed the passenger door of the Veloster. “What’s this about the ‘everything is connected’ answer you gave to Marlene Carlton?”
He passed over the business card of the lawyer. “Look at the names on the card.”
“Benson, Kirkman, Ines, and Edwards. Attorneys at law. So?”
“The first letter of each name. If you swap the middle names, you get the word bike. One of the neighbours where Carlton was killed heard a bike go by the evening he was killed.”
“What? How does that mean anything?” She stared at him. “Isn’t that a little far-fetched, even for you?”
“I say we go and visit the lawyer, or do you have a better suggestion?”
“We should stop by a drugstore first and see if they have reality pills you can take.”
“You may laugh, but everywhere we go searching for Carlton’s killer, something about bikes appear. I promise you that when we find his killer there will be a bike in the equation.”
Roberts remained silent, remembering how often he solved cases with his strange logic.
The office was located in the Manulife Tower, indicating they were successful and not overly concerned about their clients’ difficulty to find parking. The elevator took them quickly to the floor entirely occupied by the law firm. The receptionist at the law firm stared at them with a blank expression when Roberts informed her they wanted to talk to the lawyer who looked after the Jacob Carlton accident.
“I think that was a long time ago. I’ll have to check our files. May I ask what this is concerning?”
Stone looked around the large reception area with comfortable-looking furniture, leaving Roberts to convince the receptionist of the requirement to divulge the name of the particular lawyer.
“Jacob Carlton was murdered. We’re looking for possible motives.”
“Oh.” The woman suddenly took an interest in their request and began the arduous task of accessing files on her computer. “That would be Dianna Ines.” She pressed a button on her phone. “Dianna, are you free to talk to the police about one of your former clients?” A moment later, she spoke to the detectives. “She’ll be just a few minutes. Can I get you water or a coffee?”
Stone quickly replied. “I take my coffee black.”
Ten minutes later, a smiling Dianna Ines greeted them. “I’m sorry to have kept you waiting.” She escorted them to her office, which offered a window view of the various cranes used to lift buildings from holes in the ground.
Stone explained about the murder of Jacob Carlton and that they were looking for anyone that may have held a grudge against him.
Ines looked inside a yellow file folder, flipping through pages. “I recall the case. You said Jacob Carlton was murdered?”
“Yes, gunshot in a school parking lot.”
Ines nodded. “I read in the paper of a murder in the west end. It feels different when you can place a face to it.” She looked at them. “I don’t know what I can tell you that may be of help. Our firm defended him in court, and we had some dealings with the insurance company and Jillian Cramer, the victim in the accident. Jillian Cramer didn’t sound hostile when I talked with her briefly. Obviously, most of my dealings were with her lawyer. It wasn’t an emotional settlement, where the victim was listing a lot of issues besides the physical injuries. I’m sorry, I can’t be more of help to you.”
“What was your impression of Jacob?”
Ines paused before she spoke. “He came from a loving, religious family, so he had a better upbringing than most. But he seemed to resent the help his parents were providing and didn’t show any remorse for the suffering he caused Jillian Cramer. He was a self-centered man.”
“I see. What was the name of Jillian Cramer’s lawyer?”
“Henry Stevenson. His office is in Scotia Place.”
“Another downtown office building.” He sighed.
Ines smiled. “Lawyers do tend to congregate downtown. Sorry.”
“That’s all right. We’ll give them a visit tomorrow.”