Chapter Six - What Tidings Ye Bring

Irv’s Lounge, 10:45 p.m.

Martin admired Kate’s willingness to listen in regards to what he was telling her.  She seemed empathetic, and wanted to hear more.  He was calmed by her demeanor, while she sat quietly listening, and un-interrupting.  He felt as though he could spill his entire life story to her, and she would listen intently for as long as it took.      

 “So your mother ended up Chicago?”  She asked.

“Yeah, I guess.”

“What about Jeni’s parent’s?  What happened to them?”

“They died in a car accident when she was younger.”  Martin said. 

He sipped his beer and debated where to begin next, when he looked down in front of her and noticed she wasn’t drinking or eating anything. 

“Can I get you a drink or something?”  He asked.

“No, I’m fine thank you.”  She said smiling. 

“Aw, c’mon, I’ll buy you a beer…Hey Matty!?”  He said, looking over her shoulder. 

Matty was wiping down the bar and putting away his newly washed glasses.  He looked up at me upon hearing his name.

“How about a beer for my friend Kate here?”  Martin shouted to him.

“Really, I’m fine, thanks.”  Kate said.

“Marty, I think you’ve had enough!”  Matty shouted back. 

Martin found his response cryptic, or unwarranted.  But Matty went back to wiping just the same.  Martin felt puzzled by this, but his mind was redirected immediately.

“So, where were we?”  Asked Kate.

I figured it best to try and return to work in the following days after Jeni’s funeral.  Keeping my mind occupied on other things helped me to deal with the loss.  People continued to look at me different.  Word gets around fast in a small town, unfortunately.  Even at work, when I’d come in for the morning’s routine, the staff at the department would place these weak, fragile looks upon me, but keep their comments and condolences to themselves.  Lara would call me almost daily to see how things were going.  We wouldn’t talk about Jeni or even my thoughts on the situation.  Her efforts toward putting a sense of normalcy back into my life were never deterred.  I always admired her for that.  She’d ask about things in the department or what cases Sam and I were working on, and we had dinner together every couple days too. 

It had been two weeks since Jeni’s funeral.  Even though I tried involving myself in cases from the department, my thoughts dwelled on her and the reasons for her death.  I hadn’t heard from my father at all since that day at the cemetery.  Had he gone to my mother’s funeral?  I didn’t know, and a part of me didn’t care. 

I was finishing up some paperwork that morning when Sam ran up to my desk in a rush.

“Marty!  There’s someone here claiming to be James Darren’s mother.  She’s in the lobby.  She’s asking for you.”  He said.

“Put her in a room, I’ll be there in sec.”  I said.

Sam left my desk and walked back toward the lobby.  I joined him outside the interrogation room a few minutes later.  We both looked at her from behind the mirrored glass, wondering if whether or not she came here to file charges or to give us new information.  She was an older lady, probably mid to late sixties in age.  She wore a tan coat with a thin scarf underneath.  Her gray hair was pulled back in a small pony tail.  I decided it was time to enter the room, while Sam stood back and watched from behind the glass.

“Mrs. Darren?”  I said, walking in.

“Yes?” 

“I’m detective Winter, how do you do?”  I asked.

“I’m fine, thank you.”  She said.

“Do you mind if I ask you a few questions?”  I said, sitting down.

“No, not at all.”  She replied. 

 “When was the last time you heard from your son, James?” 

“I spoke with him a month or so ago.  He had called to see how I was doing.”

“Can you describe your relationship with him?  Were you guys close?”  I asked.

“No, not at all.”  She said, chuckling.  “Jimmy and I have been worlds apart for many years.  Things got even worse when he was arrested for raping that girl.”

“Yeah, I remember, there wasn’t enough evidence to convict and the case was thrown out of court.”  I said.

“He claimed the incident was consensual, but I didn’t believe him.  No one did.”  She said.  “And I’m very sorry for the loss of your wife, detective.  That must have been horrible.  It’s strange that after what he went through all those years ago, he would do it again.” 

“Happens all the time.”  I said.

“It’s a good thing you got there when you did.  Jimmy might have been my son, but I don’t blame you for what you did.  As far as I’m concerned he got what was coming to him.”  She said.

I was surprised by her remarks.  I sat across the table before the mother of a son I’d killed, yet she showed no visible anger toward me.  She was practically thankful. 

“Did James ever mention anything about a woman named Jeniveve Winter that you can remember?”  I asked. 

“No.”  She said shaking her head. 

“What about a man named Dayton?”  I said.

“Nope.”  She shook her head again.  “Listen Detective, there is a reason why I came here today, but it wasn’t to talk about Jimmy.”  She said.

“Okay…”

“Two days ago, I went to the bank in the morning, like I always do to take out some money.  When the teller gave me my receipt, my bank account was a little off.” 

“How so?”  I asked.

“The receipt said I had a hundred and two thousand dollars in there!”  She said.

“And I’m guessing you don’t-“

“Heavens no!  Where the hell would an old lady like me get that kind of money!?” 

“Maybe the bank made a mistake.”  I said.

“It’s no mistake, detective.  The bank claimed an anonymous deposit was made the day before into my account.  According to them, I have a hundred and two thousand dollars!” 

“Mrs. Darren, can you tell me how much the deposit was for?” 

“One hundred thousand even.”  She said. 

“Could you provide me with a bank statement?”

“Sure.  I brought it with me.” 

She reached into her pocket and pulled out a folded piece of paper, and handed it to me.  I read over each line amount on the document, and what she had said was true.

“Has this kind of thing ever happened to you before?”  I asked, already knowing the answer.

“I wish!”  She said, laughing. 

“Tell you what, I’ll talk to the bank and see if we can find out who made the deposit.  For right now, I’m going to have to ask you not to make any withdrawals from your accounts for a little while.  Is there a phone number where I can reach you at?”

“Of course.” 

She wrote down her number on the bank statement in front of me.

“I’ll be in touch as soon as I know more.”  I said, standing up.  Sam opened the door to the room slowly.

“Thank you, detective.  And again, I’m very sorry for your loss.”  She said, walking out.  

“Thank you, Mrs. Darren.”  I said.

         “So, her kid dies a few weeks ago, and someone deposits a hundred grand into her account?”  Sam asked.

         “So it would seem.”  I said, looking down at the statement. 

         “What do you want to do?”

         “Let’s check out the bank.  Maybe we can get something off of their cameras.”

         We pulled up to Lloyd’s Commerce Bank a short time later.  I had remembered walking in the place not so long ago in search of the safety deposit box.  Sam and I walked up to the bank teller window and politely asked to speak to a manager.  A few moments later, a very large man approached us.

         “Hello.  I’m Ray Miller.  How can I help you?”  He said.

He was shorter than I was, but much heavier.  He wore a suit that looked a size too small and had a small mustache hidden beneath his nose. 

         “I’m detective Winter, and this is detective Mitros.  We’re interested in a deposit that was made a few days ago into one of your member’s accounts.”  I said.

         “Come into my office.”  He said, leading the way down the hallway. 

         We followed him down to the end of the hallway and walked into his office.  It was incredibly disorganized with papers and legal documents in stacks all over his desk. 

         “Have a seat.”  He said, sitting down behind his desk.

         “Who’s account is in question?”  He asked.

         I looked down at the statement in front of me.

         “The member’s name is Olivia Darren.  Account number 5868136.”  I said.

         “Ah, Ms. Darren.  Charming old lady eh?”  He said, punching the numbers into his computer.

         “What is it that you need to know?”  He asked.

         “According to my paperwork, there was a deposit made a few days ago for a hundred thousand dollars.  We’d like to known the source.” 

“Let’s see here…”  He said, reading his computer screen.  “Yep…you are correct.  The deposit was made by…uh…it was anonymous.” 

“We know that, we were wondering if you could trace the source.  It’s a police matter.”  Sam said.

         “I’m sorry detectives.  I’ll do what I can, but when someone wishes their deposit to be anonymous, we have to respect that.”  Ray said.

         “We understand.  But is there any way to tell where the money cleared from?”  I asked.

         “I can tell you it was a cashier’s check for the exact amount.  Anything beyond that would require a call to headquarters.”  He said.

         “Can you look into it for us, and let us know if you find anything?”  I asked, handing him my business card.

         “Certainly detectives.” 

         “We’d like to look at your security tapes from two days ago as well.”  Sam said. 

         “Sure, follow me.”  Ray said.

         He led us down another hallway, through a locked door and then into a room filled with monitors. 

         “We keep the data tapes in here filed by date.”

         He unlocked another room that was adjacent to the monitor room that appeared to be a giant storage room, filled with shelves and thousands of data tapes. 

         “Just find the one you need, insert it there and your video will play on the monitors above.”  He said pointing to the control system. 

         “Thanks.”  I said.

         Sam and I searched through the data tapes until we found the one we needed.  I grabbed it and put it into the playback device and hit play. 

“What’s the time-stamp on the deposit into her account?”  Sam said.

         “11:17 a.m.”  I said. 

Sam hit fast-forward on the machine until that time became near.  He stopped it at 11:15 and we both sat back and watched.  At this instance, there were five men inside the bank.  Two of them were at the two tellers and the other three were waiting in line.  We watched in anticipation of recognizing one of them.  They were all roughly the same height, wearing similar clothing.  It was difficult to decipher an identity from the black and white video.  I turned to Ray who was still standing behind us.

         “Do you have a camera angle from behind the teller stations?”  I asked.

         “Normally we do.  But in the last week, that one broke and hasn’t been replaced yet.”  He replied.

         This particular camera angle was much too far away to determine an exact match to an identity.  All we could tell was that there five men that approached and used the teller stations at that time, all Caucasian. 

“Do you mind if we take this tape with us for further analysis?”  Sam asked.

“No, not at all.”  Ray said.

“Thank you, we’ll return it as soon as we’re finished with it.”  I said, shaking Ray’s hand. 

“No problem.  Take all the time you need.”  He said. 

         Sam and I walked out of the bank and got back into our car.

         “Marty, if Raines finds out we’re doing this, he’s gonna have our ass man.”  Sam said.

         “That’s why I’m going to tell him.”  I said, smiling.

         “You’re going to what?!”  Sam said.

         “Look, if this deposit was made by the person who orchestrated Jeni’s murder, that’s enough to re-open the investigation.”  I said.

         “I don’t know.  It seems like a stretch to me.”  Sam said, starting the car.

         “Think about it Sam.  Suppose our boy Darren was supposed to make it out of my house alive that night.  Someone could’ve offered him the hundred grand for the murder.  I take him down, and the money goes to his mother instead.”  I said.

         “Okay, I’ll humor you.  Say someone did contract Darren for the murder.  His contract was fulfilled, but he gets dead in the process.  Why would they then pay the hundred grand to his mother?  It doesn’t make sense.”  Sam said.

         “Maybe it was out of sympathy for the loss of her son.”  I said.  I knew how that sounded.  I was reaching, but deep down, I knew I was right.

         “Like I said man, that’s a stretch.”  Sam said.

         As much as I didn’t want to admit it, he was right.  I wanted Jeni’s case re-opened, and I was grasping at straws to get it there.  I needed more evidence to convince Raines that it was necessary. 

That night Lara was coming over for dinner.  I had come to enjoy her company and her friendship.  Sometimes she would help me prepare the meal, other times I would have it done before she arrived.  I had the table set and the chicken only had a few more minutes to go in the oven, when the doorbell rang.

         “Hi there.”  I said.  “C’mon in.” 

         “Thanks.”  She said, smiling.

         I took her coat and hung it in the closet in the foyer. 

         “Smells good in here!”  She said, rubbing her hands together.

         “On the menu tonight…roasted garlic chicken and red potatoes.”  I said, walking back to the kitchen.

         “Care for a drink?”  I asked.

         “Sure.”

         I poured her a glass of wine and she sat down at the table, while I went to the oven to pull out the chicken. 

         “So, Martin, I know you probably don’t want to talk about this, but I was wondering what your plans are for Christmas.”  She asked, politely.

         I’d almost forgotten.  Christmas.  The idea of the holiday made my stomach sink.  I hesitated for a moment, staring at the steaming chicken on the stovetop. 

         “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have-“

         “No, no.  It’s okay.  I just hadn’t thought about it at all.  This will be my first Christmas without-“  I stopped.  I couldn’t finish the sentence. 

         “I know.  I thought that if you weren’t busy, you could come over.  I could make a nice dinner and we could just hang out.”  She said.  Her voice had taken on a different, newer, polite tone that I wasn’t used to.  “You shouldn’t spend it alone.”  She finished.

         “I could buy a dog.”  I said, smiling to her.  “I’ve always wanted a dog.” 

         “Yes, you could.”  She said laughing.  “But I doubt that it could cook like I do.”

“That’s very nice.  Really.  I don’t know.  I just hadn’t really thought about it.”  I said.  And that was the truth.  But the idea of spending Christmas day alone in my house scared the hell out of me. 

         “I wouldn’t want to impose on you though.  I’m sure you’ve got family who wants to see you, right?”  I asked.

         “I have family, yes.  But they’re in Colorado this year visiting my sister.  Every year we flip-flop.  Sometimes I fly there to meet them, but this year I just couldn’t afford it.”  She said.   

         “I see.”  I said, walking up to the table.  I placed the chicken platter down in front of us and I sat down.

         “You’re welcome to come.”  She said.

         “Thanks Lara.  I think I will.”  I said, smiling.  “Now, let’s dig in.”

         We ate our food and made fun, light conversation.  She told me more stories of her time in Afghanistan and other things about her life.  She worked as graphic artist out of her home.  She lived off of her commissions and other earnings she’d take in from her business.  Lara was very independent and enjoyed the quieter, more subtle details of life in general.  She told me it was one of the reasons she moved up here in the first place.  She loved the peaceful tranquility that the upper lands of Michigan had to offer.

         “We had an interesting development today at work.”  I said.  Never before had I wanted to let her in on the details that clouded my mind regarding my wife’s death.  But I thought it was time to do so, and maybe doing so would give me a different perspective on things.

         “How so?”  She said.

         “Well, the man I killed, James Darren…his mother came into the station this morning.” 

         “That couldn’t have been good.”  She said.

         “It was quite the opposite actually.  She didn’t blame me for what I did.  Apparently, she was well aware of her son’s destructive nature long before he attacked Jeni.” 

         “Wow.”  She said.

         “Yeah, I was surprised too.  It made me feel a little better about the whole thing.  But it gets better.  Two days ago, someone deposited a hundred grand into her bank account.  And that’s why she came down to the station.”

         “I’m assuming it wasn’t the bank’s mistake?”  She asked. 

         “No.  The deposit was legit.  But it came from an anonymous source by cashier’s check.  Sam and I went to the bank today to find all this out.  We have forensics trying to capture better images off their security tapes, and the manager is trying to trace the source of the check, but so far we’ve got nothing.”  I said.

         “What does this mean?”  She asked.

         “If my theory is right, I believe someone contracted Darren to pull off the murder.  When he died inadvertently, the money went to his only surviving family, his mother.” 

         “That’s deep.”  She said, raising her eyebrows. 

         “Do you think it’s possible?”  I asked her.

         “Well, it’s not impossible.  I’m struggling with the fact of why they would make a deposit into his mother’s account, having essentially been successful in the first place, if you don’t mind me saying.”  She said.

         “I understand.  But what if they didn’t anticipate on Darren getting killed?  It could’ve generated sympathy with who ever it was having caused Mrs. Darren the loss of her only son.”

         “I don’t know, Martin.”  She said.

         Just then, I had a newer, scarier thought.  I jumped up from my seat and began to pace the kitchen.

         “Oh man.”  I said, continuing my pace.

         “Generated sympathy.”  I mumbled to myself. 

         “What do you mean?  What are you thinking?”  Lara asked.

“Mrs. Darren said that James called her a month or so ago, and that their relationship was rocky, or non-existent.”

         “Okay, so?”

         “So, if you’re at odds with someone, especially your family, would you call them out of the blue?  Just to see how they’re doing?”

         “I doubt it, unless I had a good reason.”  Lara said.

         “Exactly!”  I said, stopping in front of her.

         “What are you saying, Martin?” 

         “Hang on a second.”  I said.

         I walked over to the counter where Mrs. Darren’s bank statement was.  I remembered I wrote her phone number down on it.  I grabbed the cordless phone nearby and dialed her number. 

         “Hello?”  She said.  I recognized her voice immediately.

         “Hi, Mrs. Darren.  This is detective Winter calling.  Sorry to bother you so late.”

         “Oh, hi there.  No problem.  Did you find out who deposited that money yet?”

         “We’re working on that, I promise.  I actually called to ask you a little more about your son.”

         “Okay.”  She said.

         “You said earlier today that he called you a month or so ago to see how you were, is that right?” 

         “Yes.”

         “Did he seem agitated, or nervous to you in any way?”

         “Now that you mention it, he did, yes.  I asked him about it, but he said it was nothing.  I was actually very surprised he called me.  He just kept asking me questions about how I was and what I had been doing.  He even asked me what I normally did every day.  Before that, I couldn’t remember the last time I spoke with him.  It was very weird.”  She said.

         “Thank you, Mrs. Darren.  That’s all I needed for now.  And I’ll be in touch.”

         “Okay.”

         I placed the phone down on the counter, and looked back to Lara who had this in need of an answer look painted on her face. 

         “Someone threatened her life to Darren.”  I said. 

Coming up next:  Chapter Seven - War Rooms