“The tac team will need to go through the whole structure with sniffers again, now we know Russet Welliver is here, and we’ll be expected to carry out patrols. We’d have been doing some of that anyway,” Girard reminded her.
They’d reached the front door of the house, painted a deep green colour. Before they could find the doorbell, the door opened and an elderly woman appeared, pure white hair in neat curls around her head, cool, dark brown skin lined with age, her eyes bright and keen behind round glasses.
“You’re wanting to know about the house at the end, I expect,” she said. “Well, go on, show me your badges.”
Looking as if he might be hiding a smile, Girard produced his badge. “Special Investigator Abbott, ma’am, of the Conclave Investigators. And this is Miss Talbot, who is consulting with us.”
“Conclave Investigators, eh? Oh, that sounds important. Well, come in then, come on.”
“Ma’am,” Girard said, and he was definitely hiding a smile at that point. Hallie didn’t blame him. She had an unexpected bubble of amusement in her as well at the woman’s evident enthusiasm. She could only hope it was matched by good information.
Hallie need not have worried. Mrs Quella Rosewood might be old, but she had a sharp mind and a keen observational eye and clearly spent a great deal of time effectively spying on her neighbours. She had even kept notes of the vehicles going in and out. She managed to get Hallie and Girard into her kitchen, which was large, full of sunshine and immaculately clean and tidy, and provide them with mugs of very good coffee and a plate of equally good giant cookies all the while talking almost non-stop.
By the time Mrs Rosewood -call me Quella, dear- had taken her seat at the head of the table, Hallie and Girard knew all about her late husband, children, grandchildren and her rivalry with someone she referred to as theold, interfering busybodyacross the road who, if Hallie had to guess, was an equally keen observer of his neighbours. She spotted Girard sending a text on his phone and guessed he might be suggesting to the director that someone else should go and question the other resident.
“Knew he was trouble the moment I spotted him. Great hulking brute of a man,” Quella said as she settled into her chair.“And red in his eyes, too. Never trust a man with red in his eyes, young lady,” she told Hallie.
“I will keep that in mind, thank you,” Hallie said. “Can you remember when he got here?”
“Of course I can, dear, I’m old, not senile.” Quella picked up the notebook that she had set down at her elbow, opening it and turning back a few pages. She rattled off a date and time.
Girard produced his tablet and made a note with his stylus, which seemed to make Quella extremely happy.
“That’s just under two weeks ago,” Girard noted. Hallie wanted to curse in frustration. She and Girard had been looking for Findo Trask on the other side of the world, while their quarry had made his way back to Daydawn and settled down here, in this affluent and leafy neighbourhood. Which made her wonder just what Findo had been doing here. It seemed that Girard had the same questions as he turned to their host. “You’ve had some time to keep an eye on him, then. What did you see?”
“Well, now, let me see. Nothing much for the first few days. Wouldn’t hardly have known there was anyone in the house except there was the occasional bit of steam up from the heating and the like and the curtains were pulled, then open. Then a few deliveries. Delivery companies with packages, not like supermarkets with groceries, you understand. Day after that, perhaps, a couple of other men came by, brought two cars with them, left in one. Think one of them might have been a rental agent. He had that look. Slick hair, cheap suit, and skinny tie. The other one was tough looking, but dressed nice. The car they left didn’t move during the day, not that I recall. But it was in a different place a couple of mornings. He must have gone out at night. I get to bed early. When you get to my age, a decent night’s rest is essential. Then this other fellow turns up.” Quella paused, pressing her lips together. “I don’t like to speak ill of people. Now that first one, theveondken, he had those red eyesbut he didn’t give me any cause for alarm. Not really. This other fellow, now, he was a bad one. Had a bad look to him. Came by about, oh, four days ago now. Think he’s been staying in the house. Took the car out during the day a few times. First thing this morning, they both got in the car and left, and I haven’t seen them since.”
“That is very helpful, thank you, Quella. Let me be sure. Is this the first man you saw, theveondken?” Girard turned his tablet towards her, showing an image of Findo Trask.
“That’s the one. In trouble, is he?” Quella’s sharp gaze turned to Girard.
“A little, yes.” Girard made some adjustments to his tablet. “Could you look at these men and let me know if you recognise any of them?” He turned the screen back to her and Hallie saw that he’d managed to pull the photographs of Russet and his associates together in one image. Collected together, they all had a similar, hard look to them.
“That one there, he was one of the ones with the car. The tough looking one who’d dressed nice,” Quella said, and pointed. From her angle, Hallie couldn’t see which image had been chosen. “Oh, and that’s the rough one. The one who turned up later.” She pointed again.
Girard turned the screen back and made a couple of marks, enlarging two images. Hallie noted they were Wrench and Russet. Then he showed the screen to Quella again. “These two? You’re sure?”
“Sure as I am sitting here with you now.”
“Could you give me details about the cars?” Girard asked, setting the tablet down on the wooden table surface and picking up his stylus again.
Quella turned another page in her notebook and rattled off detailed descriptions of make, model and licence plate for eachcar, making it clear which was the one that had been left at the house.
Girard asked a few more questions about the coming and going to and from the house, and when Quella thought that Findo and Russet had left earlier that day. The answers Quella provided were prompt and honest. That done, Girard got to his feet, Hallie moving with him.
“You’ve been a great help, Quella, thank you so much. I wonder if we could trouble you some more and ask if we can post an agent in your house for a day or so, to keep an eye out for the two men coming back?” Girard asked. Hallie tried not to openly react. He was being honest about the request but not the reasoning and she didn’t want to alarm Quella.
The woman preened - there was no other word for it - and happily agreed to host as many agents as Girard might want to send, saying she’d bake more cookies and a cake.
With that promise ringing in their ears, Hallie and Girard left, heading along the road up to where the tac team had established a perimeter around Findo’s temporary home. The director was outside, conferring with Commander Rojas, but both men looked around when Hallie and Girard approached.
“Well?” Peredur asked.
“A really excellent witness, sir. Quella Rosewood. She made a note of the comings and goings. Both Findo Trask and Russet Welliver were in the house until earlier this morning and left together. We’ve got details of the vehicle, although it’s most likely a rental. Wrench has been to the property as well,” Girard said. “I’d like to post a couple of people at her house, sir. It’s likely that Findo or Russet, or both of them, will have noticed her interest in them.”
“You think she might be in danger,” Hallie said, annoyed with herself for not thinking of that.
“I do, yes.”
