The Sholes Key (An Evans & Blackwell Mystery #1) (12 page)

To be certain Henry had no idea she retrieved the hours of footage, she went down after lunch to chat. He sat behind his desk with five security screens, listening to cricket. As soon as she stepped off the lift, he raised a hand to her.

“Afternoon,” he said, turning down the radio. If he was suspicious, he betrayed nothing.

“Wonderful,” she replied then realized that wasn’t the right response. “And how’s Rusty?”

“He’s doing much better, thank you, Sophia.” A picture of Henry’s dog Rusty, a very old, French bulldog, sat on the desk. On occasion, when Henry’s wife would pick Henry up after work, she brought along the friendly dog that clumped along behind her.

Two months previously, Rusty developed hindquarter paralysis and needed an expensive operation. Henry struggled with the decision whether to prolong retirement and help his dog or let Rusty suffer. Sophia talked to her father, who talked to a vet, and a handy gift certificate to Healthy Pets Surgical Care conveniently landed on Henry’s desk two days later. Now Rusty was a healthier, happier slobbery dog, and someone with fewer worries on his mind handled the building’s security.

Once small talk was complete, Sophia stopped to check her post box. Nothing. She felt somewhat relieved not to receive any letters. At least she didn’t have to find another dead face staring back at her.

Returning to her flat, a sound in the hall caught her attention—that could be him. Through her door’s peephole, she watched a man disembark from the lift and turn right without looking at the door numbers. She watched his movements carefully. He kept his eyes down and walked straight to her door. Before he could knock, she opened it and pulled him in.

“You took a taxi?” she asked. After closing the door, she looked through the peephole to confirm the corridor was empty.

“Yes.”

“You circled the street to make sure you weren’t followed?”

“Yes.”

“You didn’t tell anyone you were coming here?”

“Yes.”

“You did?”

“No, sorry, I meant no. Of course I didn’t tell anyone.”

She relaxed her shoulders. “Okay, good. Make yourself at home.” She motioned toward her sofa. “I’m so relieved you understood my message.”

Theo took his cap off, dropped it onto the corner of the table behind the sofa, and ran his fingers through his thick dark hair. “I think you would have to be an illiterate chimpanzee not to comprehend the detailed instructions. I was surprised you didn’t tell me at what interval to take breaths. I almost suffocated.”

Sophia was thinking about how she had let a complete stranger into her house. She didn’t feel nervous or suspicious, and that was rare. Maybe it was the way he looked at her, or rather that he didn’t. Most men she met never looked her in the eyes because they were busy focusing on her breasts or her bum. If Theo had any thoughts beyond professional ones, he betrayed nothing.

“I was thinking of ordering Thai,” she said.

“What’s that?”

“Thai food?”

“Oh. Great, I’m starving,” Theo said as he walked over to her large flat-screen TV. “Have you been watching the footage?”

“No, not yet.”

He shrugged but said nothing. Sophia went into the kitchen and opened a drawer next to the stove. She took out a menu for Thai House. Sophia knew exactly what she wanted and quickly ordered her favorites, including
Goong Mapraw, Moo Pad Prik Khaeng, Priaw Waan Gai,
and some rice.

“I ordered enough for two,” she said. “We may have hours of footage to go through.”

“That’s all right.” He sat down on the sofa as she went into the kitchen to make coffee. “Did you have any success cracking that code?”

“I did work on it a bit this morning but spent most of the day retrieving this evening’s entertainment.” She carefully measured the beans that went into the grinder and pressed the large button, drowning out her own words.

“What do you mean? All you had to do was ask for it downstairs in security. How hard could it be?”

With a small spoon, Sophia measured the grounds into the filter. “I like doing things the hard way. What about you; were you able to download Lorna’s hard disk?”

“They’re going through it now. It will take some time.”

Sophia nodded. “Our computers are working on the code, but it’s never that easy. Numbers can represent many things: phone numbers, addresses, dates, times, credit card numbers, bloody words. It could mean anything.”

“I doubt he’s giving us his credit card number,” Theo said. “That would be too easy. Besides, it doesn’t resemble any credit card number. I don’t think it’s an address either—too complex. What about a date?”

“Are you asking me out on a date?” Sophia asked. She laughed at his surprised expression and quickly added, “I don’t think it’s a date. 29065014495311 doesn’t resemble any code for any date I’ve ever seen.”

“You have the numbers memorized?”

“Just that one, the one that repeats. I know that number from somewhere.”

“Where?” Theo leaned forward and pulled himself off the sofa.

“I don’t know. I searched my database and the Internet—I found nothing. But I’ve seen it somewhere. I should know it. In a way, it makes the code seem crackable. The worst is when the code means nothing. That’s why I’m glad you’re focusing efforts on normal lines of inquiry. I don’t want to be found chasing my tail. I need concretes.” Sophia watched him walk around her flat, picking up and examining her things. Had he heard her? She wasn’t sure.

“I’m not having success in normal lines of inquiry.” He examined a misshapen vase and shrugged.

“Are you enjoying yourself?” Sophia asked.

Theo turned.

“Find anything interesting?”

“Sorry. Habit.” He put the vase down. “You don’t have any photos.”

“No. Not displayed.”

“Why not?”

“What did you find at Lorna’s workplace?” Sophia laid two mugs down on the table along with milk and sugar and a packet of crisps. She was not going to discuss her personal life no matter how comfortable she felt with this man.

“Nothing really,” Theo said, setting down the vase. He sat on the couch and ripped open the crisps. “We were given a small box of Lorna’s personal items containing a few books, pictures, and a little stuffed otter doll with the name Stevie monogrammed on its wool jumper.”

“What sort of books?”

“Why does it matter?”

“They often help me understand the key to the code.”

“I don’t know,” Theo said. “Just some silly novels from the library. Some women romances—
Forbidden Love, On Top of Love
—something of the sort. The books weren’t hers, so I doubt the killer used them as a clue.”

“Perhaps not. Tell me about Lorna McCauley then. What’s your opinion of her? What was she like?”

“She had no one that we know of except her mother and son. Her workmates don’t associate with her. Her hobbies include reading and spending time with her son. We do know that she didn’t run away. Someone was able to get close to her. Close enough to win her trust. Close enough to kill her. With whom would she talk? Who would know if she was dating? We all need someone.”

Sophia watched him play with his wedding ring. “I keep my photos on my computer. Not that I’m much of a photographer.” She retrieved the coffee pot. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even ask if you drank coffee or if you’d rather have something stronger.”

“I’d rather sometimes, but coffee will do.”

“I never even thought or considered—”

“What?”

“Well, you worked all day, didn’t you?” she asked. He nodded. “I hope that your family… your wife’s not upset about you spending time here. I’m sorry. I didn’t think.”

He said nothing.

The awkward silence caused her to continue. “We’re probably looking for a man; he may be wearing a cap or a wig. I can’t see him coming in without some sort of disguise. He will be wearing gloves, holding a letter, and the biggest giveaway is when he drops something in my letterbox. Here.” She leaned in close to the screen and pointed to her box.

Before their Thai food arrived, they watched close to a half hour of footage starting early Thursday morning. People walking in, people walking out. Many checked their letterboxes. No one went near her box.

Just as her stomach growled audibly, the phone rang. “It must be the food,” Sophia said, pausing the video.

It wasn’t.

* * *

Theo watched Sophia answer the phone and retreat into the kitchen.

“How are you?” she said into the phone.

Her sweetened voice told him the caller was important to her, but the fact that she paced and bit her nails made him curious.

“No,” she said. “It’s never a bad time to call. How was your day?”

Assuming she would be awhile and not wanting to appear nosy or interested, he resumed the video footage and continued to watch people come and go. It was the first time he’d been alone with another woman in years. And here he was, sitting on her sofa, drinking her coffee, watching telly or something like it. He caught himself looking at her face and guilt crept in. He knew he should just take the footage and watch it in his office with Dorland but couldn’t bring himself to ask. He felt powerless and vulnerable.

“Hmm, bed? Yeah, soon. Why? Were you planning on stopping by?” Sophia’s chest lowered as she let out a silent sigh. “Oh, that’s too bad. Perhaps tomorrow we can have dinner together?” She nodded. “Speaking of dinner, can you hold on?” She held her hand over the receiver and motioned Theo toward the television’s remote.

Theo handed her the remote and she pressed a few buttons. A picture of a man with a plastic bag appeared on the screen. Dinner had arrived. Sophia pushed three buttons on her phone and the man pulled open the door. As Theo walked toward the door to accept the food, Sophia held a finger to her lips and pushed him behind her door.

“Sorry, Marc,” she said into the receiver. “It looks like my food has arrived. Vegetarian Thai. I have a showing this weekend but tomorrow sounds wonderful. Can I count on you to book a table?” She walked over to a vase beside the door and shook it upside down. A round wad of banknotes fell out of it. She took four tenners, re-wrapped the money and threw it back in the vase. She looked at Theo suspiciously.

Theo raised his arms. He wasn’t going to steal it.

When the knock came, she opened the door, handed the Asian boy the money and with a polite, “Khob khuun kah,” shut the door behind her. “Are you sure?” she said on the phone. “All right, love you. Good night.” She pushed the button to disconnect and gave a weak smile in Theo’s direction. “Work, sorry. Shall we eat?”

She laid out the takeaway on the table and opened the lids.

“Is this vegetarian?” Theo asked. He poked at pieces of meat with his fork.

“No, why? Are you vegetarian?”

“No. I just thought—”

She interrupted him with a firm, “No,” and quickly stuffed a prawn in her mouth.

After piling food on his plate, Theo sat back down and tasted a few portions. It was the first time he’d ever eaten Thai and found the flavors powerful and surprising. The whole evening was turning out to be powerful and surprising. He felt invigorated, something he hadn’t felt in a long time.

Sophia sat beside him, knocked him with her elbow and said, “People who don’t know they’re being taped do silly things, don’t they? Pick their nose, pull their knickers out of their bums, look in other people’s letterboxes, and most people talk to themselves.” She laughed. This was a more relaxed Sophia than he had seen a few minutes before. They ate in easy silence.

“I haven’t seen you at all,” he replied. “I’m still waiting for you to pull the wedgie out of your arse.”

“Sorry to disappoint. I don’t normally use that door. Most residents use the car park entrance to enter and leave the building. People who come in and out of those doors are visitors or those catching a taxi or the tube.”

They stopped talking when a suspicious man appeared on the screen. He walked in off the street wearing a dark coat, sunglasses, and gloves. Very slowly he came in, turned around, and looked up at the number on the door and down at a piece of paper. Sophia slowed down the video. The time was 9:02:45, Thursday night. She wrote it down on her pad of paper.

The man stopped just inside the door. His head remained down, out of camera view. He stood there for a few minutes, not doing anything. Sophia and Theo sat forward on the sofa, straining their eyes to see the pixels more clearly. This could be the killer. Take off your glasses, take off your glasses, Theo repeated in his head.

Turning around twice as if to leave, the man stomped his foot on the floor and took off his glasses. Theo couldn’t believe it. We have him, he thought. He watched some more, but the more he watched, the more disappointed he became. The man walked over to the intercom and stood there, running his finger down the list of names. His finger stopped on one name. Nowhere near Sophia’s name on the list. He pushed the button next to the name and after a few minutes more, a woman came down into camera view. The woman, nicely dressed in tight trousers, shook the man’s hand. Pointing toward the door, he led her out into the night. Damn.

“God.” Theo stood. “Bloody first dates—blind date, whatever it was.”

Sophia looked at the clock, near on eleven. “Why don’t you go home, Theophilus?”

“Oh, please, don’t call me that.” He raised his arms in the air and stretched. His shirt came up above his belt, revealing his belly. He quickly pulled the shirt down.

“All right, Mr. Blackwell.”

“Theo.”

“Theo, I can watch some more of this tonight. We don’t know when he’ll show up or even if he’ll show. I can copy the information for you and make sure you get a copy tomorrow.”

“Disappointing night,” he said.

She nodded. They had written down suspect activity only five times. No one was the right person. Only the last man wore gloves. Two others wore sunglasses and a raincoat, which was not surprising since it did rain off and on that day. One man looked in some of the letterboxes then went to his own to retrieve his post.

“I can stay,” he said. “I don’t mind. I’ve spent hours watching footage before. You shouldn’t have to go at this alone. Besides, if our nutter returns, then what are you going to do?”