A Killing In Trounce Alley Read online

  Reverend Riddell invited her to sit for a time and join us for coffee. She accepted the invite but request a tea…herbal if it was available. She was not nervous in the least and seemed a little aloof to the distractions of the deaths of two of her partners.

  As we waited for the tea she said something completely unexpected…at by me. Riddell seemed to understand or should I say, he seemed to have a cleared view of the passing of things.

  “Reverend. I am not at all surprised that those two got themselves killed. They are…..were not as clean and polished as they might have seemed. I don’t mean they did anything illegal but….”

  She was interrupted by a knock at the door. “Come in Inspector.” Riddell invited.

  The door opened and Lance came through.

  “How?!” I began, but Riddell cut me off with a grin.

  “Harbouring wanted witnesses these days Reverend!” Lance accused half heartedly.

  “If I was I certainly would not admit it to you.” Riddell replied.

  Inspector Lance accepted a coffee and for several minutes there we all sat staring at one another waiting for someone to start…or should I say….re-start the conversation.

  Finally Riddell said. “You were saying Ms. Fordwhich.”

  Shayne glanced at the inspector then, “Yes. I do not think they were into anything illegal, but it was nonetheless dangerous.”

  Shayne Fordwhich paused and sipped her tea. For the first time I could see in her eyes that she was a little apprehensive about talking about her partners with the Inspector present.

  Finally she said. “The Gallery was in financial trouble one day, then the next, after a visit from a gentleman I can not name, the gallery was flush again. Bradwynne and Melamie told me the fellow was an investor, but I have been around long enough. I don’t know the man’s name but I know the look. Smooth and as crooked as an old bent nail.”

  8

  Inspector Lance went about his investigation just as one my think. Suspecting any one who was even remotely acquainted with the dearly departed. He stared menacingly at Shayne Fordwhich and asked in a cold, clinical tone. “Who benefits from the deaths of Sharpe and O’Dally. I doubt the investor would kill them off. There would be no chance at getting the money back in that case.”

  “The business goes to the survivors when one of us passes away.” Fordwhich answered truthfully.

  “That would be you. That could be a powerful motive.” Lance replied in an accusatory manner.

  “Yes Inspector, it is, but I assure you, I killed no one. That is why I am here. I had no idea Melamie and had gone to a…….” Shayne stumbled.

  “Loan shark is a common name for that type.” Riddell put in for her.

  “I guess that’s it. I know the same man came to the Gallery about a week ago and had…..stiff words with Melamie. I could not make out what he was saying but after he left Melamie came out of the office and she looked frightened and pale. I asked what was wrong but she did not answer. She just pushed past me and ran out of the Gallery.”

  “I will certainly look into the matter however in my long experience loan sharks do not kill off wayward clients. They make them suffer yes but death does not get their money back.” Lance replied. “You and McCann are my number one suspects and I am pursuing that avenue of inquiry.” The Inspector advised then stood and without further word left us, somewhat disgruntled at his attitude.

  “Inspector Lance is an excellent detective, however he is sometimes like a pit-bull in a fight ring. Once he latches on to an idea it takes something spectacular to get him to let go.” Said the Reverend thoughtfully. “So we will do just that with help.” He added with a grand deal of heart born faith as he pointed up.

  *****

  I think the good Reverend understands the evil as well as he does the good that runs through the human heart. I believe he also recognizes that what sometimes appears to be good is not always and so true in reverse. “Each individual situation must be examined separately to unravel the true mysteries of our troubled streets.”

  When the good Reverend gets into these contemplative moods I am certain he is conversing with someone far above our mortal standing. When he returns to this corporal existence he has often discovered some scheme in the drama of life being played out before us. On this particular occasion he was traversing the corridors of Melamie Sharpe’s life…with knowledge beyond that which he had revealed to any one…including your truly. Why? “Because some things do not belong to public knowledge.”

  So we sat there over coffee for a time until finally he said. “There is more Melamie Sharpe can tell me, even from the beyond. I must get into her home. There are secrets there that will shed a very illuminating light on this mystery my friend.” Riddell explained then stood and said, “I must do this alone. Some things, as I said, should remain between her and her maker. What I learn beyond the necessary will remain with me and him.” The Reverend as so often was his habit pointed up again.

  It was three days before I was able to visit Reverend Riddell again. During that time Inspector Lance pursued his line of inquiry and did his best to get either Thadeus McCann or Shayne Fordwhich to confess but neither one would oblige him. That I could see in his cold blue eyes was very frustrating for him. I knew that Lance did not like complicated cases…or better yet, does not like a mystery. “If people are going to kill each other why not do it simply and fess up since we will catch them any way. It would avoid a lot of extra work and save a lot of tax payer’s money.”

  Mistakenly I told him one day, “You just don’t like the idea of earning your keep Inspector.” A statement I don’t think he has ever forgiven me for, nor will he ever I suspect. Nonetheless one way or another I can cajole him into talking and thus I manage to get enough information to keep my column alive. which I did for three days just with the notes I had.

  9

  I am not privy, directly, what Riddell did for those three days he went searching about on his own. I can guess though from the next conversation we had. Rather from the information he afforded me for my column, which I expect was an edited version, with-holding facts that he chose were for him, the folks he was helping and the fellow up stairs.

  I wrote this version of our conversation in my next column.

  After Reverend Riddell’s three day hiatus he contacted me by text message to meet him at the Steam Clock in Gastown. I thought it a curious meeting place at the time but went along anyway because I am well aware that the Reverend does most if not all things for and with a purpose.

  It was just on 7pm when I arrived at the Steam Clock. Darkness had settled over the autumn bound street. The street lamps glimmered playfully and a dozen scents of fall wafted gently along the avenues.

  The Steam Clock piped out its tune announcing 7pm as I met the Reverend who was leaning against it. “It’s a delightful sound, wouldn’t you say Harry.” He said with a sad smile. “I believe it piped about the time Melamie Sharpe took her fateful journey along Trounce Alley.”

  “So Rev. Have you put the finger on her killer and the fella at the Gallery?” I queried.

  “Not exactly, however in Ms. Sharpe’s case I know who to look for. As far as O’Dally is concerned well I am certain that was not connected to Melaimie’s death.”

  “Two victims. Two killers. Inspector Lance is going to love that.” I replied.

  “So, if it was not Thadeus who killed Sharpe then it had to be……” I started but Riddell cut me off.

  “It was not any one we or the Inspector suspected. We all were too focussed on the obvious information. That information simply did not add up so I went looking for other sources.

  “Ok. Tell me what you learned about Melamie’s death.” I requested and pulled out my note book.

  “No one examined other aspects of Melamie Sharpe’s life, one being her association with the theatre.

  But first let’s eliminate the obvious. Thadeus was far to inebriated to kill a mos
quito let alone a healthy young woman. As the Inspector suggested the loan shark would not and did not kill her. In fact he gave the Gallery an extension as long as they gave his brother a spot to display his work. The argument had nothing to to with the money. I did not learn what that was about and did not pursue an explanation. I was lucky to get what I did.

  That brings us to Casemount. Other than our Thadeus he seems the most likely suspect, having nicked cash from the till, so to speak and nearly bankrupting the gallery by doing so and finally getting found out by Ms Sharpe. He had motive and it seems oportunity. But I must tell you Harry. Even with all that. It just did not sit right. It did not fit that he would go all the way to that end of Trounce Alley so close where Ms. Sharpe met with her theatre troop. Mr. Casemount swore he did not kill Melamie. He said he did follow her but when he saw Thadeus he kept on going down Cambie Street. He followed her because he believed she was seeing some one from the theatre company. He was correct, but as yet I have not discovered the identity of that person. But I shall. I believe Thadeus knows more about that night than he is telling us.

  10

  I don’t remember seeing Thadeus’s eyes so clear, nor do I recall ever seeing him so bright and clear minded. Apparently he had suffered through the DTs thanks to the support staff at Dr. Fenlly’s store front rehab clinc and a helping hand from Reverend Riddell now and then. He met us in the cafeteria at the clinc with a smile that lit up the room. Through that wondrous stretching of the lips he said cheerfully. “My Dear Reverend. I know why you are here and you are quite right in coming. I recall something of that night now that had got lost in the haze of my drunkenness.”

  Thadeus’s words had just trailed off when Inspector Lance joined the meeting

  “Good. Every one that needs to be here has arrived.” Thadeus cheered. Please have a seat and Inspector I ask that you of all to listen the closest because if you do at least one of your mystery murders will be solved and you might find a lead to the other.”

  “Assuming you are not just trying to throw the scent off your own guilt.” The Inspector replied sceptically.

  “An open mind sees more, Inspector.” Reverend Riddell issued with a charge of distain.

  “We shall see. Now on with it.” Lance ordered. “I can’t spend all day lolly-gagging around here.”

  Reverend Riddell shot a hard glance at the inspector then turned his gaze to Thadeus asking, “What else about that night have you remembered?”

  Thadeus cleared his throat. “I remember coming too and thinking that there was someone else in the alleyway. Two men, in fact, because I saw one walking away and one coming into the alley. What confused me at the time was that they were dressed the same and neither of those two were Mr. Casemount. It was only yesterday that I recognized one of the men. Devon Shanksbury who is one of the financiers of the Gastown Street Theatre Group. Then, having seen him I remembered the other person whom I have seen with Melamie on several occasions. I am not sure of the name but he too is a member of the theatre group.”

  “If you don’t have a name for this other person it doesn’t do me much good.” Inspector Lance interjected.

  “Of course Inspector, I do not know his name but I know his place in the group. I believe he is the stage manager….at least I saw him working in that capacity this past summer.” Thadeus replied, then added. “That in itself must be of some help.”

  “Marginally.” Lance replied. “Is that all you have McCann.” He demanded sceptically.

  “No Inspector. There is something else but before I share that I must check and make sure my information is not misguided or misguiding. Once I am sure I will inform Reverend Riddell to pass on to you.” Thadeus responded flatly.

  “OK. I will look into these other two men but remember my sights are still set on you McCann and will stay there until something better comes round.” Lance informed.

  “Look closely Inspector because once you have furthered your investigation I may have more information for you.” Riddell advised.

  “You lot are trying my patience.” Lance grumbled then took his leave.

  When the inspector was gone Thadeus said. “I know that other fella’s name but I wanted you, Reverend to look him up first. Just to make sure I haven’t seen things wrong.”

  “Where do I find him?” Riddell inquired.

  “He will be at the East Hastings Art gallery this evening. He is launching a show.”

  I glanced knowingly at Riddell as the bits and pieces of the puzzle quite abruptly began falling into place.

  11

  Examining things by logical process does not support a sense of oddities in the passage of events. In fact things that seem strange and difficult culminate into a very clear picture when all the aspects of the situation are logically assembled. Reverend Riddell has an amazing talent for creating that clearness by picking relevant and often obvious information out of the chaos and confusion. One piece of information set aside and forgotten is most often the key to resolving a mystery. Such was the case of the two deaths not directly connected but certainly not a million thoughts apart.

  We arrived at the East Hastings Art Gallery just as the doors were opening to accept a line up of would be clients for Arthur Mannallia’s show. My first impression of his work was… “It’s rather apish.”

  I moved about the main exhibition hall casting glances here and there taking mental notes of who was attending. It was no surprise to see all of the people involved in Reverend Riddell’s mystery and find a corner of the room dedicated to the two slain partners of the gallery in memorial.

  Reverend Riddell and Inspector Lance circled the room like a pair of eagles, Riddell plainly stopping at the memorial table of Melamie Sharpe where he placed the diary she kept next to her photograph. Then he moved away.

  Champagne was being served to the visitors as they entered the gallery. When Thadeus arrived it was a sight to see when he made a broad statement by refusing the alcohol offering drawing attention to himself. To me it appeared very staged because Riddell and Lance observed the reaction of certain people in the room. My eyes were diverted when all others seemed intent on Gastown’s refurbished, broken down drunk.

  It was just a flash I caught with a side glance. A hand reaching for the diary beside Melamies photo. Then I saw Shayne Fordwhich hurrying away from the table snapping her purse shut. I thought she was going to run off but instead she went to stand next to Arthur Mannillia.

  Quickly I went to the Reverend and told him what I had witnessed. “The pieces are falling into place my friend.” He replied then went to find the inspector. I followed not wanting to miss any details exchanged between the Reverend and the Inspector.

  Riddell described what I had reported. Lance nodded and casually made his way toward the memorial table. I noticed Thadeus edging up on Casemount and Reverend Riddell advancing on Fordwhich and Mannillia.

  Then to my surprise several of the visitors moved toward the exits, two to each door. Plain-clothes officers I guessed.

  My own thought was Riddell had put all the pieces of the puzzle in place then started a new game. A game of chess, manipulating all the key players into a position they could not escape.

  EPILOGUE

  If I have witnessed tense moments in my career the one I was experiencing that evening was probably the most electrifying of any. I could almost see the static in the air and flashes in the eyes of all concerned in this mystery.

  I circled the room like a vulture, not sure if I had any other role than an observer in this parody of tragedies and intrigues born out of a detective dime novel. I was amazed to see in the good Reverend not a glint of fear, but his right hand was pressed against his heart. Then in a voice of such authority it startled me Inspector Lance spoke out. “Everyone remain exactly where you are. Reverend Riddell has an announcement to make.”

  Lance waited for a response for several seconds. When no one seemed to have heard him he raised his voice and repeated hi
s announcement, this time with an air of police authority.

  The din of the room faded as Reverend Riddell moved to a central location, his walking stick tapping ominously on the marble floor.

  He cleared his throat and began to speak, his eyes shifting pointedly at certain people.

  “I must say first that it was never my intention to discover who among you has committed murder.” His eyes shifted briefly to Inspector Lance, who nodded. “The only thing I wanted to do was show the inspector that Thadeus McCann did not kill Melamie Sharpe, which I believe I have done.” Reverend Riddell again fixed his eyes on the Inspector.

  Inspector Lance returned the gaze and said. You have accomplished your Goal Reverend Riddell and with the information you have submitted in this report”, Lanced waved a file folder in the air as he continued his announcement, “the police will be making arrests for the murders of Melamie Sharpe and Bradwyn O’Dally soon”

  There was a tension in the air that could be felt like a low grade electrical charge.

  Suddenly the crowd shifted and in an explosion of excitement a small group scattered.

  “GUN”, someone yelled and a panic broke out as everyone crowded toward the doors, pushing the police officers out of the way.

  “Let them go.” Lance ordered

  A shot went off and the smell of gun powder filled the room. At the same time Thadeus McCann made a leaping dive at Edward Casemount who was running for the back door brandishing the gun. Thadeus tackled him by the knees and the gun flew from his hands. Within seconds three police officers had him settled and cuffed.

  Casemount put up a minor struggle yelling…. “I didn’t kill Melamie. I…..I.....loved her.”

  “We believe you Edward.” Said the Reverend, “but what about Bradwyn O‘Dally. He was going to report your theft to the police.”

  Casemount fell silent and stared at Riddell in total disbelief, and then sputtered, “How did you know?”