The watcher in the car raises his camera and aims his telephoto lens out the open window. He adjusts focus to ensure that he’s capturing the name of the hotel above the entrance as well as Rittenberg and the woman.
Click. Click. Click.
The brunette steps forward and kisses Rittenberg on the cheek. The photographer clicks again.
The brunette turns and starts down the sidewalk, moving with the flair and sophisticated ease so often displayed by women on the streets of Milan. Or Paris. The photographer smiles as he watches Rittenberg watching her go.
Instead of following the brunette, Rittenberg reenters the hotel lobby.
The watcher clicks again, capturing Rittenberg’s entrance.
The photographer lowers his camera, wondering if things might have ended very differently tonight if Rittenberg had gone after the brunette. She appeared to be leaving him an opening. He didn’t take it.
MAL
November 1, 2019. Friday.
It’s late afternoon when Mal and Benoit gather with the rest of their major crimes unit. Seated around a boardroom table in the incident room with them are two other investigators, Arnav Patel and Jack Duff; admin officer Lula Griffith; and Gavin Oliver, an affiant who deals with search warrant applications and case documentation. While her core team is small, Mal has at her disposal the forensic ident unit, uniformed officers from various PDs, analysts, and tech support. She can ramp up or down at a moment’s notice.
As the lead investigator Mal sits at the head of the table with a laptop in front of her, a monitor behind her. The room is overly warm, and someone has brought pizza. The scent of pepperoni, garlic, and melting cheese is cloying. Mal is keen to get out of here and back into the field.
“Okay, we don’t have conclusive evidence that we’re dealing with a homicide, but we’re working on the assumption we are. So let’s move fast here.” She hits a key on her computer. An image of the Glass House fills the screen behind her.
“So far we have signs of a violent struggle and a serious bloodletting event at a luxury West Vancouver waterfront home known as Northview, or the Glass House. The incident was called in by neighbor Beulah Brown—a senior in her late eighties—who claims she was woken by a woman’s scream at 11:21 p.m. last night. Brown takes opioids and other meds for palliative reasons. We must take into consideration that her testimony may not be entirely reliable, although she does log events as they occur in her day, specifically to aid her memory.”
Mal hits another key. An image of the driveway and neighboring house fills the screen.
“Brown’s corner window is on the second floor of her home up here.” Mal points. “She’s able to look down on this driveway here. She says a cleaner from Holly’s Help arrived yesterday morning and parked a yellow Subaru Crosstrek there.” She points with her pen. “The Subaru has the Holly’s Help logo on both front doors.” She pulls up an example of the logo.
“The maid’s car was still parked in the driveway when a dark-gray Audi sedan pulled in behind it at six fourteen p.m., according to Brown’s log. A male and a female—late thirties to early forties—exited the Audi. Brown reports that the female was heavily pregnant, a brunette. Long wavy hair. The male was tall, well built, sandy-brown hair. The female was carrying a bunch of white flowers and what looked like a cake box.”
Mal brings up an image of the wilting flowers lying on the concrete in front of the door next to the smashed and oozing pie box. “The flowers and pie appear to have been dropped here, outside the front door. This bouquet contained a card from someone called ‘Daisy.’” Mal hits a key. An image fills the screen. “This was written inside the card.”
Good luck before autonomy dies, friend. It’s been a ride.
Thanks for the support.
Daisy
X
“The card is embossed at the bottom with a logo—Bea’s Blooms, a florist in Point Grey. The pie comes from the Pi Bistro, also in Point Grey.”
Arnav says, “So, this ‘Daisy’ picks up the flowers and a berry pie in Point Grey, then drives with the male in the Audi to the Glass House. They arrive just after six p.m. Maybe for dinner? The pie is dessert? Maybe this couple lives in the Point Grey area.”
“Benoit and I will visit the florist and bistro after this briefing,” Mal says as she moves her mouse and clicks open more files. Images of the front door and the bloodied living room flare to life on the screen.
“No signs of forced entry,” she says. “No victim found at the scene. No one home. Front and back doors were left wide open in spite of cold and rainy weather. All the lights on, shades open, and the home CCTV system was disabled, so there’s no record of the events.” She consults her notes. “Owners of the house are Haruto and Vanessa North. Neither of the Norths have been located, although two vehicles registered to the Norths are both still parked in the garage.”
Mal describes to her team what she and Benoit found in the interior. As she talks, she brings corresponding images up onto the screen, including the drag marks, blood spatter, upturned furniture, bloodied statue found in the bedroom, the bloody sneaker and sock located near the bed, the carving knife from the bottom of the infinity pool, the diamond pendant found on the sofa.
The next image Mal displays is of a blonde woman in her early thirties.
“Benoit, want to take it from here?”
Benoit leans forward. His is a commanding presence, and the energy in the room shifts toward him. “Brown claims she saw a couple in rain gear dragging what could have been the rolled-up rug missing from that living room. The couple put the rug into the Audi, on the rear seat. One person got into the Audi, the other into the Holly’s Help Subaru. Both vehicles left the Glass House at speed.” He points at the image of the blonde woman.
“This is Kit Darling,” he says. “The maid Beulah Brown saw arriving that morning. The photo was provided by Darling’s employer, Holly McGuire, owner-operator of the cleaning service Holly’s Help.”
Everyone in the room falls still as they study the image.
Darling is attractive in an unconventional way. A mischievous look in her eyes, a slight smile on her lips—as though she finds something secretly amusing. She wears bright-pink lipstick, big false lashes. Her fine blonde hair is done up in untidy space buns. Around her throat is a black velvet choker.
Benoit says, “McGuire told our officers Darling is a valued, trusted, and longtime employee. She’s worked for the cleaning service for eight years. She’s been doing a basic twice-weekly cleaning at the Glass House for just over six months. McGuire confirmed Darling drives a yellow Subaru Crosstrek with the Holly’s Help logos on the side doors. According to McGuire, Darling did not check in at the end of her shifts yesterday, and did not show up for a company Halloween gathering yesterday evening.” Benoit studies the image of Kit Darling for a moment.
“Darling’s listed emergency contact is her closest friend, Boon-mee Saelim. McGuire says she phoned Saelim, and he had not heard from Darling, either. She’s not answering her phone, either. Saelim went to her apartment. She’s not there. Neither is her Subaru. Saelim has already tried filing a missing person report.”
“Not looking good for Kit Darling,” Jack says.