West End Murders by Roy Innes

Author:Roy Innes
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: NeWest Press
Published: 2011-07-02T00:00:00+00:00

* * *

Kruger burst into the lounge and, seeing Sterne and Coswell with drinks in their hands, shouted to an invisible steward, “Bring me one of those scotches, my man.”

Sterne laughed. “Definitely not the wine,” he said, and noting Coswell’s puzzled expression, explained, “The Governor hates the stuff, don’t you Adam?”

“Embarrassing, especially now I’m a Californian,” Kruger admitted. “Bad experience when I was a kid. Never got over it.”

“Now on another subject,” he said, sliding onto one of the chesterfields. “There’s the cutest little reporter out there who I just had to take under my wing. Poor thing’s stage struck. Froze right up during the question period. Got the look of a sweet Texas farm girl — red hair and freckles. Touched my old heart she did, so I invited her up. Don’t be mad, Brian. She’s really a darlin’.”

Sterne rolled his eyes. Coswell almost choked.

The security guard held the lounge door open and Heather entered.

“Ms. McTavish,” he announced.

She stood for a moment, gazing around the room, her mouth appropriately agape. Coswell was impressed with the performance: little innocent peasant girl set before the king. Kruger jumped up and went over to her.

“Mr. Governor, your honour,” she said. “I don’t know what to say, but thank you, thank you. I was so embarrassed out there and I really wanted to ask you some questions.”

She was talking so fast, she almost ran out of breath.

“The Star paid for me to come here and I so wanted to do a good job. I’m a junior reporter and I haven’t had much experience with important people like you and Mr. Sterne.…”

“Now don’t you worry little lady,” Kruger said, placing his arm over her shoulders. “You can just relax. Now, I want you to meet Brian Sterne and this here’s Inspector Coswell of your own RCMP.”

Heather pushed forward and extended her hand to Sterne, who barely touched it, looking a little stunned by the whole performance. Coswell couldn’t wait for his turn.

“Nice to see you again, Heather,” he said, grasping her hand in a firm grip.

Her eyes flashed momentarily in a silent plea for him go along with her charade. He debated with himself. He couldn’t let her get away with it, but a complete squelch would cost him in the long run.

“Heather’s just being modest,” he said. “For a rookie reporter she’s done pretty well in Vancouver. She’s got a great boss: Harold Frayley. Perhaps you’ve heard of him.”

Kruger shook his head.

“I have,” Sterne said. “He’s been following the recent gay murders in your city. Those cases have even hit the Seattle dailies. Now that I think about it, I believe I saw your name on some of those articles, Ms. McTavish.”

“Mr. Frayley is so generous that way,” Heather said.

Sterne was obviously not falling for Heather’s tactics but Kruger seemed oblivious.

“Well you just go ahead and ask me your questions,” he said. “But first let me get get you a drink. What’s your poison?”

“I rarely drink alcohol,” Heather replied. “But perhaps a bit of white wine if it’s not too much trouble.

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