Grant got back to the precinct around noon, after informing Mrs. Brenner’s husband, teenage daughter and two young sons of her death. As he had expected, it had been incredibly difficult and he was exhausted. He was glad he had taken one of the victim support workers with him. The Brenners had been shocked and overcome with grief. No one expected a loved one to go out in the evening and never come home again. Especially as a result of someone else’s evil decision to take a life. Grant had learned that Mrs. Brenner had been out for her cousin’s baby shower with her sister and a group of about ten friends. She had been expected home around midnight, but when she was late, Mr. Brenner just figured she’d had a few drinks and stayed over at her sister’s place. Apparently it wasn’t uncommon for them to have several drinks when they got together, so he really hadn’t thought anything of it. Grant had also confirmed that their fourteen-year old daughter, Kayla, was, indeed, a wrestler with her school. It wasn’t the first death notification Grant had attended, but it may have been the toughest. The two younger boys were only eight and ten. Kids just didn’t process information the same way adults did.
He walked down the hall to the major crimes unit to see if either Penner or Millar were in their offices, but neither were, so he guessed he could fill them in on his notes later. Next, he went up to the lab to see if the computer was free. He had some more research he wanted to do—there were a few things about the case that were bugging him. Another officer was just finishing up with the computer, so Grant flipped through his notes while he was waiting, trying to make the pieces fit together. He was so lost in his thoughts, he was surprised when the other officer stood up and said, ‘It’s all yours.’ He sat down at the computer and logged in.
‘Right, so why dump bodies at different statues around town,’ he wondered. Maybe it was some deranged artist’s attempt at getting famous with shock art. He did a search for different artists in town that were known for more out-there art pieces. ‘Wow, that many?’ he thought, finding a website that listed sixty-five names. He started clicking on each name, bringing up the artist’s bio and photo, quickly looking to see if any were around the size of the person in the video. When he got to the end of the list, he was left with two names of rather big, large-framed guys. He did another search of each artist to see what type of art they did. Both of them were painters of pretty strange disturbing images. ‘Maybe one of them is branching out,’ he thought. It was a bit of a long shot, but he wrote down their names in his book anyway.
Not convinced, his next thought was that maybe the same artist might have made each of the statues and was pointing to himself in a strange, twisted game. He started with the Terry Fox statue. He wrote the date created and the name of the artist in his book. Next he searched for the Archer sculpture. He was able to find lots of pictures but not a lot of information on it. He couldn’t even find the name of the artist or the date it was created. Nothing. He found good close-up photos of both the Archer itself, and the deer he was hunting. Opening the photos in a separate browser, he zoomed in the best he could to see if he could make out a signature or anything. No luck. He figured he had wasted enough time on that one, so he started searching the last of the three sculptures, Big Ben. At first, his search results were just pictures of the clock in England. He changed his keywords to ‘Big Ben Horse Sculpture’ and hit enter. ‘That’s better,’ he said. He scrolled down and chose a page that looked like it would give details about the sculpture. He scanned the page and found the artist’s information. ‘Different artist. Now what?’ he said, disappointed. As he thought about what to look for next, he read more about Big Ben, not knowing too much of his history. Part way down the page he read something that made him stop in his tracks. ‘That’s a weird coincidence.’ He closed the web browser and logged into the Police Home Address Search application, and typed a name in the search bar. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. He scribbled the address in his notebook—he needed to find Penner.
As Penner pulled into the parking lot behind the Bird and the Badger pub, her phone rang. She quickly parked and answered. It was forensics informing her that they had finished collecting the blood samples from the sidewalk and the park and had started their preliminary testing. They were able to confirm that the blood was human, but it would take a day or two to compare it to the blood of Mrs. Jackson. Things were understandably a bit backed up in the lab. She ended the call and sat in her car, looking at the exterior of the pub. It was nice. It had a Tudor touch and reminded Penner of the pubs she had seen while backpacking through England after university. She got out of her car and walked inside.
It took her eyes a few seconds to adjust to the dim interior. Inside the pub, she saw a couple of guys sitting at a long, L-shaped wooden bar and a few other patrons sitting around a stone fireplace in the lounge area. In the back of the pub was a wall with four dart boards. ‘Must be where dart night takes place,’ she thought, pulling up a stool at the bar.
‘What can I get ya, luv?’ the barmaid asked, putting a napkin and coaster down in front of Penner.
Penner looked at the beer taps. ‘I’ll get a Hobgoblin, please. Full pint.’
‘Good choice,’ the barmaid said, grabbing a glass and starting to pull the beer. ‘First time here? Haven’t seen you around.’
‘Yeah,’ said Penner. ‘Nice place.’
‘Cheers,’ said the barmaid, putting the beer down on the coaster. ‘Pay as you go or running a tab?’
‘I should probably pay up. I’m actually working,’ Penner said, discreetly showing her badge.
‘Right, no worries. Six bucks.’
Penner gave her a ten-dollar bill. ‘Were you working the other evening during dart night, by any chance?’ she asked, picking up her change from the bar.
‘I was actually. We usually rotate day and night shifts. It’s hard on the system, but kind of evens out the tips. Don’t make as much during the day as at night.’
Penner wasn’t sure if that was a hint or not. She put her change back down on the bar top. ‘The other night, did you notice anything or anyone you thought was suspicious?’
‘Nothing out of the ordinary. We have a lot of regular customers, so any one new usually stands out,’ the barmaid said, sliding the change into her apron pocket. ‘There were the usual teams playing darts. A table of drunk college boys—they’re usually in here once or twice a week. A couple of younger people who were studying and having a late dinner. Just the usual crowd.’
‘Don’t suppose you happened to notice anyone wearing a hooded sweater?’ Penner asked, sipping her beer.
‘Hon, my memory is good, but it ain’t that good. Unless you’re a big tipper, I’m not going to remember much about you. I remember my regulars and that’s about it,’ the barmaid said, wiping down the bar top. ‘Excuse me for just one minute.’ She moved to the end of the bar to serve one of the guys sitting there. Looked like he had already had a couple. Penner continued drinking her beer and was startled when someone pulled out the barstool next to her and sat down.
‘Grant? What are you doing here?’
‘I have something I need to show you,’ Grant said, as the barmaid came back to their end of the bar.
‘What’cha drinking, hon?’ the barmaid asked, putting down another coaster and napkin.
Grant saw Penner was having a beer so he figured it was fair game, even though he didn’t like drinking while on duty. ‘Same as her please, but just a half.’
‘Sure thing. That’ll be four-fifty,’ the barmaid said, pulling his beer.
Grant put five dollars on the bar top. ‘Mind if we move to one of the tables?’
‘No worries.’ The barmaid put down the beer and scooped up the money in one fluid motion.
‘So, what’s going on?’ asked Penner as they moved to one of the tables in front of the fire.
‘I was doing some research on the cases and, well, I found some stuff.’ Grant said. He seemed nervous.
‘That’s good,’ Penner said. ‘So, what did you find?’
‘Well, it has to do with the statues. I may have figured out why the killer dumped the bodies where he did.’ Grant took a big chug of his beer.
‘Really? What is it?’ Penner said excitedly.
‘I don’t know if you’re gonna like it, ma-am,’ said Grant, taking out his notebook. On one of the last pages he had made several notes with certain words underlined.
Penner looked at the page, then looked up at Grant. ‘I…uh…wha…?’
‘I know, that’s how I felt too.’ Grant finished his beer. ‘It can’t be a coincidence, can it?’
Penner looked back at the page again. She was dumbfounded. ‘How did we miss this?’ she said.
‘Why would we have been looking for it?’ Grant said. ‘So, now what do we do?’
Penner was silent. She took a long sip of her beer and said, thoughtfully, ‘I think we need to see the Captain. I don’t know what to do with this.’
When Millar finally arrived at the coroner’s office, Faye was well on her way with the autopsy of Mrs. Brenner. ‘Oh, how lucky,’ Faye said seeing Millar walk in. ‘Where are the others?’
‘Just me today. I got the short straw in the draw,’ Millar said putting on his mask. ‘Anything interesting with this one?’
‘Not really,’ said Faye, standing back from the body and lifting her glasses onto her forehead. ‘I examined the wound—same placement and dimensions as the other two victims from earlier in the week. Nothing else out of the norm with her. I didn’t see any other marks at all. Really, very clean.’
‘No defensive wounds again?’ Millar asked, bending over to look at the body’s hands. A hair fell off of his shirt.
‘Try not to shed on my body, would you?’ Faye said, putting her glasses back on and finding the hair. She picked it up and dropped it in the garbage. ‘I’m sure you don’t want to be considered a suspect because you left your DNA on a body during the autopsy. No, no defensive wounds, no hairs, other than yours. No clues at all. We did check her blood for drugs and alcohol. No drugs but there was alcohol present. 0.06, so based on her small frame, she probably had a drink, maybe two, but that’s it. Under the legal limit.’
‘So, three victims in the same week. All three basically the same build and weight. Three almost identical injuries. Three similar dump sites and that’s it,’ Millar said. ‘I was really hoping you would have had a smoking gun this time.’
‘If it was a gun, at least you could have compared the bullets,’ said Faye.
‘Yeah, that would have been easier,’ Millar said taking off his mask. ‘Always a pleasure.’
‘Yeah, real pleasure,’ Faye said as Millar walked to the door. ‘Do me a favour, try not to have me called again tonight, okay?’
‘You know you’d miss me,’ said Millar, as the door closed behind him.
Penner and Grant met up back at the precinct and went straight to the Captain’s office. ‘Right, you found this, you can do the talking,’ said Penner, as they stood outside his door. ‘I’ll be there with you. But, for the record, I really don’t like this.’
‘You don’t like it! How do you think I feel? Earlier this week I was just a beat cop minding my own business, now I’m going to see the Captain about one of the biggest cases this precinct has had in years, and I’m going to tell him something I am sure he doesn’t want to hear.’ Grant was starting to sweat. He took a deep breath and knocked on the Captain’s door.
‘Come in!’ the Captain called out. Penner and Grant entered, closing the door behind them. ‘Ah, Detective Penner.’ The Captain looked up from his paperwork. ‘And Constable Grant, correct? I’ve heard good things about you. Sounds like you’re doing a good job helping out Penner here.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Grant said nervously.
‘So, what can I do for you two?’ the Captain asked.
Grant glanced over at Penner, who nodded and then looked away. ‘Well, sir, it’s about the recent murders in town,’ Grant said. ‘I came across something, well, troubling, and Detective Penner and I need some advice on how to proceed.’
The Captain looked at Detective Penner. ‘Really? How troubling?’
‘Well, sir,’ Penner said, ‘If it’s not a coincidence, and I hope to God it is, then it’s bad.’
The Captain put his pen down and gestured to the chairs in front of his desk. ‘Sit.’ Penner and Grant pulled up the chairs and sat down. ‘So, what’s going on?’
‘Well, I was doing some research, trying to figure out why our murderer might be placing the bodies by the different statues around town. I figured there had to be a connection,’ Grant said, taking out his notebook.
‘And did you find one?’ the Captain asked.
‘I think so, sir,’ Grant said, turning the book around so the Captain could read what was written.
‘Is this a joke?’ he asked staring up at Penner.
‘I’m afraid not, sir.’ Penner said. ‘Like I said, it could be a coincidence, but, I really don’t know.’
‘Have you looked into timeframes? Alibis?’ the Captain asked.
‘We’re starting to, sir, but it’s not looking good,’ Grant said. He didn’t like this at all.
‘Do you have anything other than this?’ the Captain asked. ‘Any concrete evidence at all? Fingerprints, DNA?’
‘Not really, sir,’ Penner said. ‘We have the hair from one scene, but there was no DNA match in our system. We don’t even know if its really related or not, it could have been incidental transfer. We know what type of weapon was used, we have video showing the suspect, so we know what they were wearing for one of the murders, and we have a photo of a boot or shoe print that we think belongs to the suspect. Oh, and we know a stun gun was used on one of the victims. We would really need a warrant to see if we could find the weapon or the clothes and make a comparison. But,’ Penner paused, ‘the kicker is that if we were to execute a search warrant, I know we would find all of these regardless, except maybe the boots. Heck, you’d find them at any of our houses.’
The Captain sat back, rubbing his forehead, wondering how to proceed. Grant felt sick. Penner sat quietly, looking at her hands in her lap. After what felt like an eternity, the Captain finally spoke. ‘Alright. I’m going to call the Crown attorney and explain things to him and see if we can get a warrant. Based on what you’ve shown me, I don’t see why he wouldn’t tell us to proceed. Now, listen carefully. I want this kept quiet, understand? We don’t need this getting out until we’re sure about where we stand and ready to make an arrest. The two of you can execute the search. Bring two officers with you. No sirens, no handcuffs, got it? When you’re done with your search, come back for questioning. I want to be there.’ The Captain picked up his pen again. That was their cue to leave. ‘I’ll let you know within the hour if we have the warrant or not.’
‘Thank you, sir,’ Penner said, standing.
‘I’d say good job, but…’ the Captain said.
‘Understood, sir,’ said Grant, following Penner out of the office and closing the door behind him. ‘Man, and I thought death notices were hard,’ he said to Penner in the hall.
Penner just leaned against the wall and stared ahead. For once, she didn’t know what to say.
Millar always felt like the smell of death clung to him after an autopsy. When he left the coroner’s office, he decided to run home and grab a quick shower and change of clothes before returning to the office. He was surprised to find the house unlocked, but then he remembered it was Saturday and Tina should be at home. He kicked off his shoes and walked into the living room. ‘You’re going to know more about that stuff than I do, soon,’ he said, seeing Tina sitting on the sofa, reading one of his books.
‘Oh, hey, Dad. I didn’t think you’d be home at all today.’ Tina looked up with surprise. ‘Short day for a change?’
‘Just need to have a shower before heading back to the office. Gotta catch up on these cases we’re working on,’ Millar said. He was happy they were actually having a civil conversation for once and just wanted it to continue. ‘Got plans for the night?’
‘Yeah, I’ve got practice in about an hour. Then I’m going to meet up with some friends for dinner and studying. Finals are coming up.’ Tina was back to staring at the book.
‘Right. Ready for them?’
‘Think so,’ said Tina. ‘Been doing pretty good in most of my classes. Well, except Social Studies. I hate that class.’
‘Well, maybe you should be concentrating on Social Studies then, instead of reading my books.’ Millar cringed as soon as he said it, expecting it to set her off. Luckily, she let it slide.
‘I’ll mention it to the group tonight,’ Tina said, still looking in the book.
‘Right, I’m going to shower.’ Millar leaned down and gave Tina a kiss on top of her head. ‘Try not to stay out too late, okay?’
‘Likewise,’ Tina said.
Millar went upstairs to shower. As soon as she heard the water running, Tina got up from the couch and went to the hall closet. She grabbed her gym bag and checked to make sure she had everything she needed. She slipped on her shoes, picked up her bag and went out to the garage for her bike. Pedalling to the end of the block, she turned and headed towards her school. If she had left five minutes later, she would have seen the black sedan pull onto her street, followed by two police cruisers.