A Killing In Trounce Alley Read online

  I arrived at Riddell’s Apartment just on 11 am. “Come in!” I heard him beckon before I knocked. I rolled my eyes, pushed the door open and stepped over the threshold only to stop dead in my tracks. Of all the people, there sat Inspector Lance having a coffee to Riddell’s tea.

  “What gives” I queried.

  “Inspector Lance has requested that I go over the discovery of Miss Melamie Sharpe, whom Thadeus found last evening. I found it prudent as well to tell him what I have learned about the woman. We have been waiting for you so that I only need to describe my discoveries once.” The Reverend explained in a tone that said, “Lance caught wind of my inquiry and wants the information because he ran smack into a brick wall.”

  “Well then. I have arrived so lets get on with it. I have a deadline to meet and my editor is riding me.” I replied curtly offering up a slow grin. Inspector Lanced snarled and ordered Riddell to get on with it and quit wasting his time.

  I was waiting until Lance was gone to tell the Reverend what I had heard the night before.

  I made a note of the static bouncing around the room.

  “Very well. Miss Melamie Sharpe has an interesting history. She is an aspiring actress first and foremost. However she is also a partner in The East Hastings Art Gallery. In fact she holds most of the title…rather held most of the title. Three others share the Gallery and each has a room to display their work. The main gallery is used to feature local artists, changing artists each month. They take fifty percent of the gross sales and I understand the Gallery does well.”

  “Where did you get all this, Reverend.” Lance grumbled.

  “I simply asked about, Inspector. People tend to loosen up more for a white collar than a badge and considerably more quickly. Besides that I had seen the young lady before, at the café’ I frequent, just down the street from here.

  “So you asked the people in the café “, Lance grunted moodily. “I could have done that!

  Before I could put a lock on my lips I blurted, “Then why didn’t you?”

  Inspector Lance glared at me but held his tongue, but I knew what would have come out.

  Riddell smiled and replied. “It seemed the most obvious thing to do.”

  Lanced moved on. “What are you up to next?” The streaks of red anger faded from his cheeks.

  “Going to have talk with Melamie Sharpe’s partners seems to me to be the way forward.”Riddell suggested

  Reverend Riddell donned his grey fedora and midnight blue pea jacket. As he made the door to leave he reached out and captured his walking stick, uncommonly known as a Cold Steel Fighting Stick. I think I have not seen him out of doors without it in a couple of decades.

  It was not far from Riddell’s apartment to the gallery so we walked, or as my friend put it, “It’s not so far that we wouldn’t enjoy a good stroll Laddie.” So on foot we went while Inspector Lance hurried ahead of us in his car.

  Reverend Riddell smiled as the non-descript brown sedan raced past us. He said in an amused tone. “I suppose I should have mentioned that the gallery is not open yet and that I made arrangements this morning to meet with the other partners. It was made clear to me that they would not talk to the police, but Samual, one of the partners seems to have had some small association with me in the past and is willing to discuss Melamie’s death. I believe he has information that will set us on the right path to discovering at least a motive for her murder.”

  “Lance is not going to be happy my friend.” I noted.

  In response Riddell’s lips bent slowly into a sardonic grin.

  “There’s something you ought to know. If he hasn’t already Lance is going to arrest Thadeus for Melamie Sharpe’s murder.” I announced then described the conversation I eaves dropped on the night before.

  “He is good cop but sometimes he jumps before he looks.” Riddell replied.

  5

  As we turned on to Main St. the trees lining the curb side were in full autumn bloom. The late morning sun seemed to make the leaves sparkle and I suppose the dew drops clinging to them created much of that effect. It was a scene that momentarily caused me to wonder how such beauty could be sullied by the crude, angry action of murder, but as we approached Main and east Cordova a soup step-van pulled to the curb. It reminded me that there was still a very dark side to the city, despite attempts to improve it.

  The pretty picture I had conjured in my mind was further pushed into the shadows as we turned on to East Hastings and were accosted by graffiti walls, dilapidated buildings, panhandlers and an old bag lady.

  Riddell glanced about nodding toward a building under renovations. Said he in a saddened tone, “One can paint a piece of rotted wood and make it look pretty for a time, but unless the foundation is replace the rot will break through or more likely grow like mold, hidden for but a short time.”

  And then we came to the East Hastings Art Gallery where we found Inspector Lance leaning against the curb side of his car, smoking a cigarette. The look on his face fell far from the notion of cordiality. “Ya just gotta stick it to me every chance you get.” He grumbled then fell into place next to me as we moved down the alley to the side door of the gallery.

  It was open for any one to enter.

  Reverend Riddell led the way in. The door approached a short set of stairs that rose to a hallway. The hallway went several feet then turned left and continued on another few feet to a door with a sign that read, Rear Gallery. The door open soundlessly.

  As Riddell stepped through he suddenly halted and sniffed the air. “Dear Lord.” Rushed anxiously past his lips. A second later I understood the oath and so did Inspector Lance.

  “Don’t go any further!” The Inspector ordered as he extracted his cell phone from his inside coat pocket.

  Once you have experienced it, as all three of us had at one point or another in our lives, Lance and Riddell more regularly than I, you never forget it. The scent of death.

  *****

  I found Reverend Riddell contemplating a cup of Espresso, which he does when his mind is trying to organize a puzzle into something that looks like a recognizable picture. On this particular morning he was digesting information he had acquired while examining the latest crime scene located at the East Hastings Art Gallery where the remains of Bradwyn O’Dally, was found. Of the third partner of the gallery there has been no sign. Inspector Lance automatically put Shayne Fordwhich on his most likely list and had issued a city-wide search for her. We had thought that he would forget about arresting Thadeus but somehow he had managed to keep the two death’s separated and log them in as unrelated. There was nothing to do but try and find information to hand off to the Inspector that would put him on a different course of investigation. “

  As often he did Riddell reminded me. “I am a Reverend and I understand many things Harry, but, I am not a detective. I am not a Sherlock Homes to your Watson, Harry. Still. I know what it is like to be in Thadeus’ place so I will do what ever I can to help him….get him lawyer if it comes to that.”

  “If it comes to that it will cost.” I replied.

  Reverend Riddell pointed up. “A way will be found.”

  “ I believe the good Inspector is chasing snow snakes in the desert.” Riddell replied when I asked his oppinion on Lance’s assumption. “He has missed the picture all together. He has not taken a clear look at the fourth party involved with the gallery. Edward Casemount, Melamie Sharpe’s confidant.”

  “Where did you come up with that tidbit?” I asked in total surprise.

  Riddell bent his lips into that funny grin he gets. “Miss Sharpe kept a very detailed journal and she recorded some suspicion about Casemount’s financial indescresions. It seems he acted as the Gallery’s accountant.”

  “In plain lingo, he was skimming the cream off the top.” I interjected.

  “Not exactly, but that analogy will suffice.” Riddell countered.

  “I suppose the next step is to find him and Ms. Fordwhich if we want to g
et the clearest picture possible.” I suggested.

  “Will you be turning the journal over to Inspector Lance?”

  “I already have and I am sure he will make good use of it.”

  “Just so you know Rev. I have heard the name Edward Casemount before. He was the witness who turned in Thadeus.”

  Riddell stared for a long minute into his espresso then responded to my suggestion. “We leave finding Fordwhich and Caemount to the police. They have the resources to accomplish the task that we do not. I will put a bug in his ear about Edward Casemount, just in case he misses the connection.

  “For the time being I want to have a word with Thadeus McCann.”

  6

  I accompanied Riddell on his visit to Thadeus McCann. What we found was a quivering, half crazed man curled up in the corner of his cell like a frightened child.

  Reverend Riddell went to his side and gently put his hand on his shoulder. I did not hear what he whispered in McCann’s ear but after a few minutes the man sat up, and though still quivering, was able to control himself enough to talk to the Reverend.

  “Thadeus. I need you to answer me honestly. Did you hurt that woman?”

  McCann shook his head no and whimpered.

  “Good. I believe you.” Riddell smiled softly

  “Now Thadeus. Tell me everything you can remember about the night you found the body in the dumpster.” Riddell’s voice had a quality to it that would sooth the most agitated soul.

  It took some doing…. Prompting…. to keep him going and focussed, interrupted every few phrases with the demons of detoxing, a state you can only understand if you have experienced it. Each time the Reverend placed his hand on McCann’s shoulder and waited the flare out patiently.

  It took nearly an hour to get the complete picture of which has already been described. However there is one point that did not quite stand out in the first rendering.

  “That night after I turned into the alley I sensed some-one was watching me. When I saw Melamie head down the alley I thought at first it might be her I sensed. But after she passed the feeling did not go away. And now that I can remember a little better I have realized that the tourist who took my picture was the same man that followed Melamie.”

  “You knew Melamie Sharpe?” Reverend Riddell queried thoughtfully.

  “Yes. She was a kind soul. It was the most horrible, horrifying thing I have seen since…well….in a long time. She was a member of that Street Theatre Group and she use to pass by the old clock most every night.”

  “Did she always use Trounce Alley?” Riddell inquired.

  “Never. She usually went on Cambie St. to Cordova.” Thadeus answered then for a minute we lost him to the ravishes of the DTs.

  Riddell put his hand on the man’s shoulder and closed his eyes. He was speaking but it was barely a murmur to me. I stood silent watching Thadeus slowly calmed to stillness then he laid out on his cot and fell into the soft rhythm of slumber.

  Standing, Reverend Riddell turned to me and asked. “ Is it possible you could report this conversation in your column?”

  “Can do old friend, but knowing why would help me.”

  “I will explain later. Right now I must go visit a lawyer friend and get Thadeus out of this hell hole.” Riddell replied and rushed off.

  I went to my office at the paper and banged out the story as I had seen it unfold, emphasizing the good Reverends feat of calming the DTs from Thadeus and his bent for helping the poor fellow out of a mess he would never escape on his own. Selling the column to my editor took a bit of convincing but he accepted it at last, once I promised to make it all fit together.

  ********

  Lampton Craddock brushed a piece of lint from the sleeve of his dark grey suite coat., all decked out to enter the court room. He glanced at Reverend Riddell and smiled warmly. Their history belongs in the annals of crime journal and one day I shall relate that tale, but for the moment Thadeus McCann needed the skill of a solicitor like Craddock and that was Riddell’s goal….to acquire it.

  “You are the charmer Reverend Riddell. I could see that in you back when we both camped out on the boats. Let me get through this day in court then I will go have a chat with Old Thadeus.”

  “Lampton. Thadeus McCann is younger than both of us.”

  “Really.” The lawyer replied with a grin.

  “Please Lampton. For now, just get him out of that jail cell and into a proper facility. We can deal with getting him cleared of this mess after that.”

  “From what you have told me that won’t be a problem, however it would help if you could discount this witness’s account against McCann.”

  Riddell left his friend to the business of the court room pleased that he had shifted some help in business he knew that he had a heart, from experience. Now to pry into those regions Inspector Lance would inevitably badger him about….”Interfering with police inquiries is against the law Reverend!” he could her the Inspector growl. Nonetheless, he was off to confront Edward Casemonut despite the danger it evoked.

  Tracking down Casemount proved some-what easier than Riddell expected. “Too easy.”He thought. Who would believe the rantings of an old drunk over a respected accountant. “That is what I have to do. Make Lance realize that Thadeus was the one accurately describing that night.” Worked its way out to foreground of thought.

  Edward Casemount sat at the desk in the main office of the East Hastings Art Gallery. He was perusing the books. When Reverend Riddell entered, though unannounced the accountant did not seem surprised.

  He said. “Ah. The Righteous Reverend Meddlesome.

  Riddell offered one of his sardonic grins and replied. “Only those who have something to hide would think of me as meddlesome. Most would be delighted I am lending a helping hand to get to the bottom of Miss Sharpe’s death.”

  “Indeed. But I don’t see what help I could be. I told everything I know to the police.”

  “You gave them your version. Thadeus McCann has his own and now has a solicitor to present his side of the story.”

  I watched silently from the shadows of the hall way. I saw Casemounts face turn blood red. Riddell had scratched a nerve and the accountant got antsy about it.

  “You are trespassing Riddell. Get lost before I call the police, or better yet….”

  Casemount began to stand from his chair. It was a moment both of us suspected could happen.

  I did not budge. I kept the video camera rolling.

  7

  No matter what you understand about human nature sometimes things happen that you simply never expect.

  Edward Casemount moved slowly around the desk and edged toward Riddell. I did not see why at first but the Reverend quickly side-stepped and wielded his walking stick like an Epee’. At the same moment a gun shot split the air causing me to duck and scramble. Not for cover but directly into the room.

  My camera hit the floor as I hit Casemount with a tackle. Riddell finished the job with a whack over the accountants wrist.

  So it seemed that all was going our way. We would have something that could be construed as evidence, at least to raise doubts as to who had told the truth, Thadeus or Casemount.

  But sometimes when you think you got things all locked up it all goes for a header into the preverbal toilet.

  The next I saw, Riddell had stood aside and let Edward Casmount dash out the door with no thought of giving chase.

  At the look on my face Riddell pointed out my fallen camera and the gun still laid beside it on the floor.

  “Leave everything exactly where it is Harry.” The Reverend instructed then slipped his cell phone from his jacket pocket. As the phone rang he said, “Inspector Lance can decide what to do with this.” Then, “Hello Inspector. Its your favourite Reverend calling.”

  I passed out not having realized the bullet Casemount had fired was lodges in my shoulder. I never felt a thing and in the end it did me little harm being a small calibre and barely went bellow surfa
ce of the skin. The doctor said I probably did not take a direct hit. It did cause me considerable bleeding though which was the reason I passed out. The good Reverend managed to stop the bleeding before the emergency services arrived.

  *****

  Thadeus sat on the edge of his bed at Dr. Fenlly’s store front rehab clinic. Lampton Craddock had done his magic in the courts, at least so we thought. The reality was he went a better, quicker route and took his appeal directly to Inspector Lance, who, in fact had not yet charged Thadeus with anything. It had been more than twenty four hours since McCann had be taken in. Why Lance had not laid charges was known only to himself, but I suspect he listened to Reverend Riddell a little more than he let on. Riddell responded to the circumstances much as he always does, Pointing up accompanied by a knowing grin.

  With Thadeus safely tucked away the fingers of law-enforcement reached out in search of Edward Casemount who had ‘gone to ground’ as is the fashionable way to put disappearing suspects.

  Four days passed.

  *****

  Like I said before, no matter how well you may be attuned to human nature some folks can turn your tuning askew in a heart beat.

  Riddell had spent the last four days going about his usual routines, having left the business of criminal investigations to the experts. He was just returning home from visiting Thadeus McCann at the rehab clinic when a rapid knock came to his door.

  Yes I was there having a cup of Espresso and going over a few details about my next instalment of my column.

  Riddell grinned. “So she has come up up for air.”

  “Who.”

  Again Riddell grinned then made for the door. I could hardly believe who he invited in, but after a few minutes understood how much sense it made.

  Shayne Fordwhich was no beauty, or would not be to those who put physical attributes as the prime scope of beauty. At the same time she was not what one might construe as ugly. I guess I would put her in the category of plain and simple, which in itself has its finer attractions. What really made her eye-catching was her lingering ways of old, still wearing the flowery garb and the colourful beading so peculiar to the hippy era. She was about that age too. Certainly, she not, at a glance, come across as a murderer.