Time of Death. Alex Barclay
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‘I had just been raped.’
‘Had you seen a doctor?’
‘No.’ Her voice fell to a whisper.
‘Could your husband have been worried about your mental health – worried about what reporting this could have meant for you?’
‘But … I told him to report it. I was traumatized. I didn’t want to report it myself. But I was adamant that he should.’
‘Did your husband override your wishes before?’ said Ren. ‘Did you ever ask him to do things and he ignored your wishes, maybe for what he felt was your own good?’
‘I’m sure every husband does that at some point.’
Not about reporting a rape, I would venture.
‘Catherine, can I ask you a few more questions?’ said Ren. ‘I know we’ve been over some of this already, but I’d like to make sure I have everything straight.’
‘OK.’
‘Who had access to your property?’
‘We each had a set of keys – Greg, Luke, Michael and I.’
‘What about tradesmen, a gardener …?’
‘No,’ said Catherine. ‘We hadn’t had any work done on the house in over a year. The boys look after the garden.’
Ren looked back at the notes she had taken when Catherine had described the rape. ‘You mentioned you had been shopping at The Homestore. Were you taking any delivery items in?’
‘No. I was just buying small things. I … just wanted to make the place nice. Greg had brought up the idea of us moving house, nothing concrete. I wasn’t interested, but I guess even the thought of moving made me want to dig my heels in a little more …’
And I’m sure you’d rather be any place but home right now.
‘So, no delivery people had access to your house.’
‘No.’
‘OK, Catherine, I’m going to go away with all this and start making enquiries. Thank you for taking my call.’
So Gregory Sarvas wanted to move house. His wife didn’t. If someone was hoping to sell their house, the last thing they would want to do is report a rape and stamp a black mark on the neighborhood.
Could a husband be that screwed up?
Gary walked into the bullpen. ‘Hey,’ he said. ‘Can I get an update?’
‘This Sarvas case is getting weirder,’ said Ren. ‘Erubiel Diaz rapes Catherine Sarvas. A week goes by, and her husband tells her he will report it on her behalf to spare her the trauma – yet he doesn’t. Within days, he gets murdered. And his two teenage sons go missing.’
‘Do you think it’s all connected?’ said Gary.
‘I can’t see how it wouldn’t be,’ said Ren. ‘Even though it makes no sense.’
Colin shrugged. ‘It does if the kids are screwed up. They rape their own mother – which is why she doesn’t want to report it – their father finds out, they kill him and run.’
‘But she called and ID’d Erubiel Diaz,’ said Ren.
‘Picked a random rapist from the internet?’ said Colin. ‘That can happen. People lie. People get desperate. She wants to find her boys, doesn’t care what they’ve done, plans to forgive them, but needs someone on the case with the resources to track them down. And maybe someone who will believe her sorry tale.’
Oh, like me, maybe? Screw you. ‘Of all the people in all the gin joints?’ said Ren. ‘No, her sons did not rape her. That’s not what any of this sounds like. I’m not sure what the hell is going on, but I know it’s not that.’
‘Do you think we need to look at the husband?’ said Gary.
‘I’m thinking, why not?’ Ren shrugged. ‘His behavior is off. Not reporting the rape rings serious alarm bells. She also said he talked about moving house around that time.’
‘I’d want to move too,’ said Cliff.
‘This was before the rape.’
‘Ah,’ said Cliff. ‘And did she want to move?’
‘No.’
‘Maybe he hired someone to scare her out of the neighborhood, to make her feel unsafe there, so she’d want to move, but the guy went too far?’ said Colin. ‘Sarvas tracks him down to beat the shit out of him, but the guy gets in first, blows him away?’
Cliff sucked in a breath. ‘You’d have to be seriously desperate to get out of your neighborhood to go that far.’
‘Maybe the man had every reason to be desperate,’ said Gary.
‘Maybe he was boning one of the hot neighbors and she turned psycho on him,’ said Colin.
Ren looked at him. ‘Always quick with the fucked-up scenarios.’
‘Did you get everything from El Paso PD?’ said Gary.
Ren nodded.
‘Split it up between you and see what you can come up with,’ said Gary. ‘No one’s to neglect Gartman in all this. All eyes are on us. And the Gregory Sarvas murder could be a time-consuming tangent.’ He turned to Ren. ‘You’re looking at this as your route to Val Pando? Via Diaz?’
Ren paused. The correct answer is …
‘Be careful,’ said Gary. ‘Don’t put all your eggs in one basket.’
That night, Ren and Misty walked out the motel-room door for the last time. Ren smiled.
Who could ever be sad, leaving a motel?
She thought about that: husbands going back to their wives, wives going back to their husbands, people who have had bad sex, guilty people, short-changed hookers, Catholic chamber maids … who, on reflection, would have been sad going in in the first place … Ren stopped reflecting.
OK, lots of people. Just not me.
Robbie walked behind Ren up the path to Annie’s house. Ren was pulling a suitcase, Robbie had a stack of boxes in his arms. She turned the key in the front door and had to push hard with her shoulder to open it. She dragged the suitcase on to the black-and-white tiled floor. Robbie laid the boxes down beside it.
‘Do you need me to take these anywhere?’ Robbie nodded toward