Title: The Web of Lies
Detective Colin McCabe shivered, sitting next to Detective Jim Payne, at the worn wooden table in the middle of the room. The smell of age and decay steeped like old tea had permeated the walls. It mixed with the still lingering scent of menthol surrounding Jim, who creaked each time he had to get up to answer the call of nature.
Officer Grace Steel joined them. Tasked with the work behind the scenes, she studied the forensic evidence and digital footprints of the suspects. It was her speciality and her arrival brought more information she had dug up on the suspects, phone records, a deep dive on their background, and movements during the day, along with the evidence they had discovered so far.
The bell found under the body, looked like it came off a piece of jewelry, too small to have any fingerprints. There was a tiny piece white wool trapped in the ring that held it to a silver chain. It was still being analyzed. The tea cup and its contents. The sage and the candle. All things that shouldn’t have been in that office. An officer had picked up an ID badge with a subjects name and picture, dropped in haste outside the convention center. There were a few emails sent by the current and schedules all documented by Grace who had spent a lot of time at her computer. She had separate evidence bags with each tarot card left behind on the victim, the only link so far between them all. Why the tarot card, they had speculated, but hadn’t found an answer that satisfied everyone.
“So what do we have so far?” Colin said, irritated undertone to his voice. Jim took a deep breath, he too had been cranky the entire day.
“We have the bell, that’s significance, maybe a mistake, dropped by the killer in the heat of the moment,” Jim said. He tapped his pencil on his pad of paper. “The cup of tea left behind, the sage and the candle. The victim had traces of belladonna in her system, but cause of death was suffocation. We don’t have a weapon. We took the pillows from the sofas to test them. There was only two sofas, with two pillows each. And we have the links between the victims — the tarot cards. All tested for fingerprints, which were none and in the process of other tests on them. If there is any chemical, natural or synthetics, or anything else of significance. It will take some time.”
“Okay, okay. Do we have the results of the contents of the tea cup? Any belladonna?” Colin asked Grace so sat looking through the piles in the front of her.
She took out the results from the file, she confirmed the tea did have traces of belladonna, but no prints. Someone wiped the cup down.
“Damn it! Any prints on anything?” Jim slammed his fist down, Grace jumped, Colin unfazed, having become accustomed to the outbursts.
“Tons,” Grace said, “but it’s a jumble of many prints on some surfaces. It doesn’t look like there has been much cleaning, for quite a long time.”
“What about the candle?” Jim asked, checking his tone.
“We have two sets of prints, Cassandra’s and a partial. We are still going through all the prints we gathered,” Grace said, she gave him a hopeful look. “We will figure it out.”
Jim looked out past her to an empty wall, his mind going through the evidence and planning the questions. It was part of his job he enjoyed the most, a slight smile formed on his face. It disappeared as quickly as it showed up. He didn’t give up his emotions and thoughts that easily.
“Who’s up first?” He said.
“Lila Procter, the victims protege. She was closest to the victim, plus she knew the other victims as well, Cassandra being that link,” Colin said, getting up.
Lila sat down across the table from the two detectives who studied her, she tried to make herself as small as she could manage. She patted her eyes with her tissue intermittently and blew her nose.
“Thanks for speaking with us. As the victims protege, we needed some information from you and appreciate your cooperation,” Colin started the interview, his voice low and steady, trying to calm the shaking woman who avoided eye contact.
“What was your relationship really like?” Jim asked, her body stiffening. Colin took a deep breath.
“I admired her greatly,” she began, her eyes welled up. She pushed up the sleeves of her sweater, exposing a silver bracelet. Colin’s eyes became drawn to it as it shimmered in the harsh fluorescent light above the table. “She was like a second mother, since my first abandoned me.”
“I am so sorry,” Colin chimed in before Jim could reply. “Were there any disagreements between the two of you?”
“No,” she replied. She shifted in her seat.
The questions and Lila’s answers went back and forth. Did the victim have any enemies in the medium community? None that she could think of, everyone loved her. Was there tension or recent disputes between them? Other mediums looked up to her, maybe there was some secret animosity but they never showed it when she was around. She kept her distance from them through each question, a wall of seemingly openness, but Colin sensed her unease. She was holding something back.
“Do you use tarot cards, Lila?”
“Of course, but Cassandra didn’t think too much of my skills. I just couldn’t get them right.” Lila shifted in her seat, holding herself tightly, trying not to unravel.
“Is there something you are not telling us, Lila?” Colin asked, trying to get her to look at him. She sat silently, trying to make up her mind.
“Well…maybe it is something you need to know. Cassandra had been getting some anonymous threats. And…I found her diary and read it. There was someone here that was an ‘unwanted’ guest. It didn’t say who it was though.” Lila pulled a small diary out her bag.
Jim grabbed it from her with his strong hand. “You should have handed this over earlier.”
“I know that,” she jutted out her jaw in defiance. “There are some interesting passages about threats from an outsider. No one in our close circle of friends and acquaintances. Thank god.”
Jim handed it over to Colin to peruse.
“So she never mentioned a name?” Jim asked.
Lila shook her head, “No. She said nothing to me.”
Jim excused Lila, thanking her gruffly. He gave her all the normal platitudes. He was sorry for her loss. It must be difficult to lose your mentor so suddenly. Colin rolled his eyes as he turned away.
“Let’s get Victor Hayes in. He is the one scheduled for an interview with the victim and was seen on the surveillance camera near the offices. We may need to press him a bit to get him to talk,” Jim said.
“Okay, I am good with that,” Colin responded.
Victor Hayes sat in the chair, his head held high, a quiet confidence radiating a false sense of security. Jim started his questioning with a calm Colin hadn’t encountered before. It threw him off, he looked at him with narrowed eyes. What’s he up to, he thought to himself.
“So, Mr. Hayes, thanks for speaking with us,” he began. Victor nodded, picking an invisible piece of fur off his pant leg. “We found an appointment for you on the victim’s schedule for the day she died. Can you explain the reason?”
“It was for a private session. I needed spiritual closure for a deceased relative,” Victor sat with his finger laced together in front of him, deliberately relaxed. Colin thought he held something back despite the particular cool manner he sat in his chair, his leg crossed over the other. He was too relaxed.
“You were seen on the CCTV outside the main door to the office around the time she was killed,” Colin said. Victor rubbed his chin, thinking up a response.
“Maybe I was, but when I went to the office, she was no where to be found. I waited a few minutes then left. I figured she ghosted me — flighty like most of these mediums,” he replied. Victor’s eyes never quite met the detectives while he answered with a bemused smile on his thin lips. “She isn’t the first one I have tried. You can check with a couple others here at the convention. They give you the run around. They get their fee, then they’re done.”
Colin nodded, writing notes, adding the short list of the other mediums.
Jim pushed a sheet of paper in front of him, his face devoid of expression. “We found this deleted email on the victims laptop. Can you explain to me why you were blackmailing her?”
Victor, his eyes scanning the words on the paper, looked up at Jim, meeting his gaze, gravity took the paper as he threw it away from him. “And? Blackmail is far from murder.”
“Blackmail doesn’t look good for your case though. We could charge you right now. I think we have a strong enough case,” Jim’s tone changed, deep and chilling. Victor stared at him, catching his gaze and matching its venom.
“Do it then. All it is is circumstantial evidence,” Victor said, beads of sweat formed along his brow.
Colin sat in silence, hopeful Jim knew what he was doing, challenging him so soon.
There was no arrest. Jim demanded Victor to remain available for future questions if they deemed it necessary. Victor, his knees shaking while he lifted himself off his chair, snorted an agreement.
“What are thinking Jim?” Colin asked, looking at the frown lines of Jim face, deepened from the harsh light overhead. “Do you think he would kill her when she didn’t hand over the money?”
“I am not sure,” he replied. “He’s an overconfident slim ball. I was just testing his reaction. It really got him shaken when I threatened to arrest him. You could see all the blood drain from his face.”
“I supposed he may have not wanted to be exposed, and had to silence her permanently. We need to dig deeper into his background,” Colin said, and called in Grace, gave her instruction to dig deeper on Victor Hayes background. “There maybe something even more sinister in his past.”
“Who’s left?” Jim asked. Colin looked at his list.
“Edward Grant. He’s the organizer of the convention. He has a financial stake in its success and a long-standing friendship with the victim,” Colin replied.
Edward entered the room, his demeanor nervous and impatient. He sat across from the detective and grimaced. He took out a silver keychain from his pocket. It created a tinkling sound as he dropped it. “This convention has been such a disaster. Three murders — I am ruined. Why haven’t you figured it out yet?”
“We are doing our best, Mr. Grant. Trust us when we say we will get to the bottom of this,” Jim’s response came out in staccato notes. His jaw set and kept a strong gaze on Edward. Colin leaned his elbows into the table.
“We learned that you and the victim had been quite close friends for a while. Did she mention anything to you about someone here that she may have been afraid of?” Colin asked, he tilted his head to the side as Edward twisted the band of his watch around his wrist. Colin could see that he looked hesitant and waited in patience for the response.
“She may have said something to that effect in passing, but I thought she was exaggerating. She was a very dramatic woman usually,” the guilt overwhelmed him, his eyes showed a man in distress.
“We didn’t notice any change in security measures. Did you not even entertain the idea of extra protection for her?” Jim voice chided the man that sat across from him with his head in his hands.
“No. I feel like such a fool,” Jim shook his head. Edward sat back in his chair, tears started trickling down his cheeks.
Colin took out a small identification card from the file in front of him. “We found this discarded outside. This picture looks just like you.”
“Oh you found it, thank god. I lost it this morning,” Edward responded without understanding of its significance.
“So you lost it. Did you tell anyone about loosing it?”
“I mentioned it to Lila after …. “ he shifted in his seat.
“After. After what?” Jim asked, his brows at full peak.
“After nothing. We were just talking about Cassandra’s schedule for the day,” he replied. Is Edward covering up a scandal to protect the convention, or did he have personal motives?
“So you knew her schedule and had access to the offices,” Jim said. “Interesting.”
“Cassandra was a good friend, has been for years. I would never hurt her. This convention is important to me financially. This definitely something I never wanted to happen. If I could go back in time, I would have insisted on a bodyguard or something to keep her safe,” Edward blushed and sat slumped in his chair.
They finished their questions, asking about the tea cup, whether he brought her some before she died. He flatly denied it.
“Do you have tarot cards, Mr. Grant?” Jim asked.
“I do, but they were a gift…from a friend,” he replied, blushing.
They excused him when they finished. Edward, his chin against his chest, left them room, his arms drooped at each side. A frown was etched on his face.
“What do you think, Colin?” Jim sat with his elbows on the table. “He could be lying about so many things. We have his account of his movements from the officer, but have we searched through the video feed, that is available?”
“We have but there are a number of dead spots in the feed,” Colin replied.
“Too bad,” he said.
“We have the victim being blackmailed and possibly afraid of someone at the convention. Someone who shouldn’t be here. No one knew who that could be? Where did the bell come from? Who brought her tea? No one admitted that. They all looked like they were hiding something,” Jim let out a large sigh, crossing his arms across his chest. “We need to figure this out Colin before someone else’s dies.”
Colin looked at him, catching his gaze. “This was meticulously planned out. There is something sinister going on at this convention. I can’t quite put my finger on it, but I felt it as soon as I entered through the door. And, I think they are all hiding something too.”
Grace entered as they went back and forth with possible scenarios. “I think I have found a financial link between Victor and Edward. They had some dealings with each other and suspicion of fraud had been raised by an investigative journalist. She is also on the list of attendees. But she has gone missing.”
As soon as she dropped the bombshell on the detectives, the door swung open. “We found something. Come with me.”
Jumping up, the followed the officer toward a group gathered at the end of the corridor, their eyes darting around at each other. Some were muttering words under their breath.
“We found a secret passageway,” the officer blurted out as they neared the others. The lights along the corridor began to flicker and the smell of sage exited through the opening in the wall.
