A Striking Death Page 5

  “Same here,” said McDonald. “Nobody saw anything. As usual.”

  “So I don’t know if we’re any further ahead or not,” said Lori. “He was home but we don’t know whether or not he stayed home, do we? He could have slipped out the back and killed Billinger in the middle of the night. Nobody would have seen him. We haven’t learned much.”

  “Oh, I don’t know, love. I’ve learned a great deal about you. That’s progress, isn’t it?”

  “Not exactly what I meant.” Lori sighed. “Are you always this annoying?”

  “Not always, love, no. But usually.” And McDonald gave her a sunny smile.

  fourteen

  Levine had been waiting for him to ask that, Drumm thought. “You were lovers? For how long?”

  Daniel Levine was looking at him unwaveringly. Even proudly, Drumm thought. “Off and on for about four years. More on than off.”

  Drumm studied the man. He wasn’t much to look at, dressed rather carelessly in baggy brown pants and a dark green cardigan buttoned over a brown dress shirt. He was about five feet six, Drumm guessed, and weighed maybe two twenty. Glasses and thinning brown hair completed the picture of an elderly bookshop owner. Drumm would not have recognized him as gay, nor as anyone’s idea of a love object. It took all kinds, he thought, and he had been in the detective business long enough to know that people often weren’t what they seemed.

  “How old are you, Mr. Levine?”

  “Fifty-four. And you’re wondering what Art saw in me. Correct?”

  Drumm hid his surprise. “Not at all. But Arthur Billinger was seven years older than you. The age difference wasn’t a problem for you two?”

  “It never bothered us, no. We never even thought about it. At least, I didn’t. Certainly we never talked about it.”

  “So you were lovers for four years or so. And you met at Danny’s. How did he come to work here?”

  “We struck up a friendship at Danny’s. That’s all it was at first, a friendship. We got to know each other better, and then we began a relationship.” Levine paused; he was looking unhappy.

  “I know this must be hard for you, Mr. Levine. But please carry on. A relationship? Sexual, you mean?”

  “Yes.”

  Drumm nodded. “Go on.”

  “I enjoyed Art’s company and he was looking for something more to do. It was natural that he start working here. I only needed somebody part-time; I don’t do enough business to keep two people employed. It’s a struggle to make any money, actually. Well, Art was happy with minimum wage. I offered him more but he wouldn’t take it. He didn’t need the money, but I would have paid him more gladly. But he wouldn’t accept it.”

  Drumm sat back in his chair, thinking. Then he said, “You were lovers, you said? Were you in love then, or was it just casual?”

  “Love?” Levine smiled sadly. “I’m not even sure what that means. We got together frequently. We enjoyed each other’s company.”

  Drumm asked, “You have your own place, sir?” At Levine’s nod, Drumm went on. “Why didn’t the two of you live together?”

  “We’d talked about it, and it might have happened one day. But Art wasn’t ready. He is – was – a private man. He didn’t want anyone to know about us, especially in his neighbourhood. So he stayed in his home and I kept my place. Even when we were at Danny’s, he was discreet.”

  Drumm thought about this. “So, where did you get together then?”

  “Usually at my house. Rarely at his. And only then if it was late at night. Maybe if we’d been out to a late movie and it was nearer to his house, then we’d go there. But that didn’t happen often. He was too paranoid. He hadn’t come out, and he said he never would. I guess he won’t now, will he?”

  Drumm ignored this. “You wanted him to announce publicly he was gay, Mr. Levine?”

  “I did, and I wasn’t best pleased that he wanted to keep us secret. Sometimes I thought he was ashamed of me. We talked about it sometimes, but I had to accept how he felt about it. I didn’t want to lose him.” Levine looked down at the floor. Then he looked up. “And now I have.”

  Drumm said, “I’m sorry for your loss, sir. Have you any idea who would want to harm him?”

  Levine shook his head. “No.”

  “Was there anyone that he’d had an argument with? Disagreement?”

  “No, not that I know of.”

  “Did he talk about anybody at all? Was he worried about anything?”

  Levine was shaking his head to all the questions. “He was perfectly happy as far as I knew.”

  “And when did you see him last, Mr. Levine?”

  Levine looked away, thinking. “That would have been Saturday night. We went to see a movie at the Cineplex.”

  “I thought you said Mr. Billinger worked here on Saturdays.”

  “He did, yes. But the store is only open until 5:30. I don’t get much business late in the day so we close early. I met him here at closing and we went out for dinner and then the movie.” Levine blinked his eyes rapidly. “We did that often.”

  Drumm recorded in his notes the name of the restaurant and theatre address and then asked, “And Monday night, sir? You understand I have to ask? Where were you?”

  Levine nodded. “I know. I was at home. I worked here until six, closed up and went home and made myself dinner. Watched some TV and went to bed about ten.”

  “Did you call Mr. Billinger that night?”

  “Monday night? No. No, I don’t think so.”

  “Was that unusual?”

  “What, not to call him? No, it wasn’t unusual. We talked most days, but not every day. He had other things going on in his life, other people.”

  Was Levine sounding a bit resentful? Drumm thought he was. “Did that bother you, Mr. Levine? That he had other people in his life, I mean?”

  “Of course not. We knew where we stood with each other.”

  But Drumm thought he was lying. “Who are these other people you mentioned?”

  Levine looked at his watch. “Detective, can this wait until another time? You said a few minutes, and it’s been nearly half an hour. I have to open up the store again; I’m losing business.”

  Drumm apologized. “Sorry, I didn’t realize how long we’d been.”

  Levine was moving towards the front of the store where an older couple could be seen waiting outside. “I don’t mean to be unhelpful, Detective, but I don’t know much about Art’s other friends. You could ask Cameron Garmand, though; he might know more.”

  But Drumm thought Levine did know about Billinger’s other friends. And the bookstore owner didn’t want to talk about them.

  fifteen

  Lori Singh wasn’t a stomper but if she had been, she would have stomped into Drumm’s office. Since she wasn’t, she walked in normally and contented herself with a big sigh as she sat down. Drumm, who was on his phone, raised an eyebrow at her but continued his conversation. She pulled out her notebook and started reading over her notes while waiting for him to finish his call. He swivelled his chair around so that he could study her while he talked.

  Finishing his conversation, Drumm hung up the phone and said, “Sorry about that. How did you get on? Since you didn’t call me, I assume you didn’t find out anything of earthshaking importance?”

  Lori filled him in on the little she and McDonald had learned and waited for his reaction. Was he hiding a little grin? Damn it, he was!

  Drumm said, “Well, at least we know Bailey was where he said he was. And that he had the opportunity to do it.” Now he was openly grinning. That was a sight she didn’t see often. “What did you make of Detective Dick then? And where is he anyway?”

  “You could have warned me!” Lori said.

  “Ah… I did, actually,” Drumm reminded her.

  Lori had calmed down a bit and now she smiled herself. “So you did. And I don’t know where he went. He said he had business elsewhere and he beetled off.” She stretched in her chair. “He’s a piece of work,
isn’t he? Deliberately tried to get under my skin. Does he do that to everybody?”

  “Pretty much, yes. Did he call you ‘love’?”

  “He did. Many times. Despite being told not to. Also many times.”

  “Lori, Dick is a good cop. Give him time, he’ll grow on you. But he is a pain. Now, let me fill you in on Daniel Levine.”

  Drumm summarized his conversation with Arthur Billinger’s lover.

  Lori said, “So he has to be a suspect. Lover’s quarrel, maybe he beats his head in. He would have had plenty of motive, if he felt Billinger was involved with someone else.”

  Drumm said, “I had to end the interview since he asked me to leave. But he knows more than he’s saying, that was obvious. We’ll have another go at him soon. But for now, he has to be our chief suspect, what with motive and opportunity. Let’s see what else we can dig up on Mr. Levine.”

  “How about his reaction? Did it seem genuine?”

  Drumm smiled. “Well, he was upset, but at the same time, he was pretty businesslike. He was surprised at first when I told him Billinger was dead, but then he wanted to open up his shop again because he was losing business.” Drumm looked at her. “How upset could he be, if he wants to go back to work?”

  Lori said, “Maybe that’s his way of dealing with grief? Or maybe he just needs the money.”

  Drumm looked at his watch, and then stood up. “Lori, I have to scoot. I have a lunch date with Emily. She’s opened her own agency, did I tell you? And today I’m getting the grandiose tour. So I’ll catch up with you later.”

  Lori watched as Drumm hurried out of the office. She felt a little twinge of jealousy – she had to admit to herself that’s what it was – as she watched him go. She wished she was going to lunch with him, and then told herself to settle down. He was taken, and he was too old for her anyway. And that was that.

  sixteen

  The office had a welcoming receptionist in a bright, freshly painted front room; an autumn bouquet of flowers stood on her desk which overlooked the street outside. The view was obstructed by the dozens of photos of homes for sale in the window, on display for passers-by to inspect.

  “It’s very impressive, Emily.” And it was, he had to admit. Emily Graham Real Estate was a busy, well-appointed place.

  “Thank you, Nicky.” She smiled gratefully at him, her blue eyes sparkling, and then took his arm. “Let me show you around.”

  “There are a lot of people on that board, Em.” Drumm gestured at the magnetic sign hanging on the wall listing the agents and indicating whether or not they were present in the office. “And I see that you’re in.”

  “Not as many names as I would like,” she said. Emily led the way down a hallway past a series of doors, most of which were open. Standard office cubicles, he noticed – desk, computer, filing cabinet, potted plant – and a number of them were occupied. “I have fifteen representatives at the moment but I could use a few more.” There was also a larger room at the back with a small conference table, bathed in the afternoon sunshine.

  Emily eased open the sliding doors and she and Drumm sat down on the cushioned garden chairs. The patio was surrounded by high stone walls and had an overhead trellis covered with vines.

  “This is terrific, Em. I’m pleased for you.” And he was. “Do you use this space out here much?”

  “We try to bring clients out here as much as we can but we won’t be able to much longer. It’s getting too cold. But this area is what sold me on the building.”

  Drumm studied her. He and Emily didn’t talk much about money so he wasn’t sure of his ground. He decided to risk it. “You have fifteen people working for you, Em? How on earth can you afford to pay them all? Business must be good.”

  Emily laughed. “Those names on the board aren’t on the payroll, Nicky, they’re on commission. But Sarah, the deals secretary, and Janice, our receptionist – them I have to pay.” She laughed again. “I’d have to be rich to afford to pay everyone a salary. And rich I definitely am not.” She leaned back in her chair and crossed her legs. Drumm watched her twirl her hair in her fingers, the familiar gesture that always made his heart jump. “The reps have a contract with me. They keep sixty percent of the commission, or seventy percent, depends on their experience, and I get the rest. And, of course, they all have to pay me monthly office fees, whether they sell anything or not. It encourages them, shall we say?” She smiled at him.

  “Well, but fifteen people selling for you! You’ve got to be doing okay.”

  Emily smiled ruefully. “You’d think so, wouldn’t you? But it’s not nearly enough. If I can get forty reps, then I’ll start to make some money. I’ll get there, but it’s a gradual thing – takes time. And I’ll probably have to open another office.”

  Drumm said, “I’m trying to think of that real estate guy…” He snapped his fingers. “Randy Richards! I’ve seen that grinning face of his on signs all over the city. Maybe he should come to work for you, Emily. He seems to sell a lot of houses.”

  “I’ve thought about it, believe me. If I could get him, and that’s a big “if”, I would have to do a ninety-ten split with him. And he gets the ninety. It would still be worth it, though.” Emily looked at her watch. “Nicky, I know you have to get back. Let’s have our lunch out here. I’ve got something in the fridge. Back in a sec.”

  Drumm appreciatively watched her head back in through the patio doors. He admired the way she carried herself, and her shining brown hair which was hanging loose this morning. Even dressed as she was in conservative business attire, she was an attractive woman. It was interesting and a little unsettling to see her in her new role as successful real estate entrepreneur. It would take some getting used to. Then he forced his mind back to the case. Daniel Levine. Arthur Billinger. He wondered just how much the bookstore owner wasn’t telling him.

  seventeen

  Daniel Levine was telling the truth about being home alone on Monday night, Lori had discovered. She had driven out to his residence, a small older dwelling in a quiet part of the city. Levine wasn’t home, of course, but she found a neighbour who confirmed the bookstore owner’s story.

  “He came in at about six o’clock, same as always.” Louise Stephens lived directly across from Levine’s tidy little bungalow and she had a perfect view, as Lori discovered for herself when she parked on Levine’s driveway. Movement in the window of the house across the way attracted her attention and she crossed the street in search of a witness.

  Louise Stephens was a woman who appeared to be in her seventies, with a rocking chair arranged so as to look directly out on the road. Nothing that happened on this street would escape her notice. Standing on her front porch, she confirmed that Daniel Levine had come home at his regular time, and she hadn’t seen him go out again.

  “What about Mr. Stephens? Did he see anything?”

  “My husband’s been dead these past eleven years, Detective. I live alone.”

  Lori said, “I’m sorry to hear that, Mrs. Stephens.” She turned and looked briefly across the street. “And what time do you go to bed?”

  “Ten thirty, right after the news. And I put earplugs in, so if Daniel went out again, I wouldn’t have heard. But he never goes out that late.”

  “But if you’re in bed with earplugs, then you don’t really know if he goes out late at night, do you, Mrs. Stephens?”

  “No, I suppose I don’t.”

  “How well do you know Mr. Levine?”

  “Well enough. I speak to him often. He’s always pleasant. A private man, though.” She paused, and then said, “What is this about, Detective?”

  Lori studied Louise Stephens carefully. The woman was thin to the point of anorexia, her grey hair cut short, metal-rimmed glasses covering sharp eyes that were regarding the detective attentively. Lori ignored her question. “What job did you have, Mrs. Stephens, when you were working?”

  “I was an executive secretary.”

  That explained the woman’s capable, no
-nonsense approach. Lori said, “What do you mean, he’s a private man?”

  “Let’s talk inside, Detective, if you don’t mind. I find it difficult to stand for too long.”

  A few minutes later, seated at a small round table in a dated but scrupulously tidy kitchen, Lori sipped at a cup of tea and repeated her question. “He’s a private man, you said. Can you explain, please?”

  The older woman said, “Daniel’s homosexual, Detective. He doesn’t try to hide it, but at the same time, he doesn’t flaunt it. I’ve never seen him in a public display of affection, for example. Never seen him holding hands or kissing, nothing like that.”

  “How do you know he’s gay then?”

  “I know people, Detective.”

  Lori pondered this. “Did you notice if he had a steady partner?”

  “Yes, indeed he does. Daniel introduced me to him once. He’s often over to Daniel’s place.”

  Lori sipped some more tea. “Do you recall his name, Mrs. Stephens?”

  “I do. Art, I believe it was. Arthur. An older man.”

  “You asked what this is about. He’s the reason.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “His name is Arthur Billinger. He was found beaten to death Monday morning.”

  Louise Stephens’ hand went to her mouth. “He’s the one? I heard about that on the news.” She was clearly shocked. “Poor Daniel.” She stared at the detective, and then her hand dropped to the table. “Oh! I see. That’s why you’re here asking all these questions. You suspect Daniel.” She looked upset.

  Lori spoke quickly. “Not at all. We’re just checking into everything. Routine enquiries, that’s all. I need to know about Mr. Levine’s relationship with Mr. Billinger. Anything you can tell me would be helpful. For example, how they got along. You said you never saw them displaying affection in public. How about the opposite? Ever see them arguing?”