Tuesday, March 16th
Fredericton, Alison Stevens’ home, 7:15 a.m.
Alison awakened from a fitful sleep. She looked at her alarm clock on the bedside table, and she saw it was a little early. In an attempt to go back to sleep, she turned on her side for a few moments. However, she was too nervous, and she decided to get up and have breakfast.
Once she arrived in the kitchen, she immediately got busy with the cooker and the kettle. Although she desired to reach out to her friend Shirley, she reasoned it was too early, and in a little over an hour, she would have sufficient time to converse with her and ask for her advice. The image of that person in the photo was constantly on her mind. She couldn’t shake it off. She had tried so hard to forget everything about her mother’s death, to remember only the many happy moments together, but now… What could she do? What should she do?
The policeman, the day before, had said he would ask the Lieutenant to call her. She hoped he would remember. If not, after a few days, she would try to contact him once again.
While she was waiting for her eggs to fry in the pan, she took out the photo from the pocket of her jacket. She unfolded it on the table; she took a red marker from the table drawer, and she drew a circle around one of the people portrayed. She went to the cooker, she put the eggs on the plate, and she went back to the table. While she was folding the photo, she heard the doorbell ring. Who could it be? One of her neighbors usually came for a cup of coffee, but it was too early. She got up from her chair and went to the door. She tried to look through the peephole, but she couldn’t see the face. She didn’t know why, but she was agitated and frightened. She tried to ask in a normal voice: “Who is it? I am getting ready to go to work. I don’t have time to talk.”
The male voice that answered was very kind and professional: “Madam, I come from the police station. Lieutenant Gordon has just received your message. He would like to talk to you as soon as possible.”
The only thing that Alison thought in the brief moment before she impulsively opened the door, was that only a policeman could know about her message to the Lieutenant. Her mother had often reproached her for not reflecting before doing something, for acting on an impulse…
She opened the door just a crack to see the man, but she was pushed inside her apartment. She fell to the ground, and the last thing she saw was the gun that was going to shoot her, then…. darkness!
***
Fredericton, 7:25 a.m.
Throughout the past few weeks, he had been following that woman so closely that he knew all her habits, schedules and friends. He knew she liked arriving at her shop early, that she seldom went out after work, that she had few friends and acquaintances.
He arrived in front of her block of flats very early. Her visit to the police station had alerted him: what had she discovered? Why was she so upset? There was a task he had to complete, and he had to complete it quickly…
As he stepped out of the car, he swiftly put on his gloves, grabbed his gun, and equipped it with a silencer. He hid the pistol under his jacket and approached the entrance to the building. He was lucky, because a woman was coming out, and she instinctively held the door open for him. Taking care to hide his face, he thanked her curtly. Upon reaching the first floor, he rang the bell. While he was waiting for her to open the door, he looked around cautiously, and he made sure no one was coming out of the other flats. He was fairly certain that, at that time, the landing was deserted, but he had to prevent her from shouting or attracting attention.
That woman came to the door, and she hesitated before opening. He told her he was a policeman, and he talked to her about the message she had left at the police station. That would surely deceive her.
She opened the door just a crack, and he saw a frightened look on her face. He had to act quickly, before she had time to shout. He pushed her to the ground and shot her. She didn’t move. He wanted to feel her pulse, but he knew he didn’t have much time, so he preferred to inspect the flat. He found the laptop on her desk, and he took it. He took her mobile phone and her bag because he didn’t have time to check the contents, but he didn’t see any folders or printouts on the desk or in her bedroom. When he went to the kitchen, he noticed a photo on the table, next to a plate with two eggs just fried. After glancing at it, he crumpled it in his hand and placed it in his pocket. He walked back to the door. He saw that she was still motionless, and he was leaning over her to check if she was alive, when he heard someone knocking on her door.
A voice called out: “Alison, I am in a hurry. I am sorry. I don’t have time to stop for our coffee today. See you tomorrow.” This was something he didn’t know about the woman’s routine, the morning coffee with a neighbor. He didn’t hear any footsteps on the landing, so he thought that person was waiting for an answer. He quickly climbed down the fire escape at the back of the flat, and he disappeared as fast as possible. Was she dead? Oh, he thought, she certainly was.
***
Fredericton, police station, 10 a.m.
Lieutenant Dan Gordon had been a policeman for half of his forty-four years. His wife had learnt that he took his job very seriously, that, when he was called, whether it was in the middle of the night, late in the evening, or while they were having a quiet lunch on Sunday with their twelve-year-old son Nick, he didn’t think, he just got up and left. She had learnt that this was not a sign that he didn’t love his family. She knew his job was not only an employment, there were people involved, people who were victims, people who saw their life shattered in a minute and that, if they wanted to find the criminal, the sooner they started their investigation, the better.
In the morning, he had arrived early at his office. He wanted to catch up on some papers that had piled up on his desk while he was away. As he was ending a phone call with a colleague, a policeman entered his office. He could see immediately that he was agitated, and he had a piece of paper in his hand.
“Lionel, what’s the matter?” He asked, getting up instinctively.
The policeman said: “Dan, more or less one hour ago, one of our units received a phone call from a person who hadn’t seen a colleague at work this morning. The officers went to check, and they found that woman unconscious on the floor of her apartment. She had been shot in the chest. They have taken her to the hospital.”
Gordon looked at his officer questioningly: “Ok, but why are you so upset? Is she someone you know?”
“That woman is Alison Stevens, boss!”
Gordon stared at the agent: “Oh, my God!”
“Yesterday she came here to talk to you. I was at the reception. I told her I would give you her message, but this morning I was on patrol when you came in. They called us to Miss Stevens’s home, and I have just come back. I didn’t have time to give you this.” He handed him the piece of paper.
Gordon read the message: ‘I have to talk to you. I think I have seen that woman in a photo. Please call me as soon as you can. Alison!’
He asked the officer: “How is she? Will she make it?”
“The doctors in the ambulance said that they don’t know.”
Gordon took his jacket from the coat hanger, then he turned to Lionel and said: “Have they already inspected her apartment?”
“Yes, Brad was there. He told me they didn’t find anything. They are dusting her flat for fingerprints, but there is absolutely nothing broken or in disorder. They didn’t find her bag or her wallet, so it may have been a robbery. They didn’t find her mobile phone or her PC. No papers, no documents, apart from some bills and receipts.”
Gordon knew exactly what this meant: as his agent had just said, it may have been a robbery, but, if it was not, this assault was connected to her testimony at the time of her mother’s death.
He asked: “I think she told me once that she wanted to open a shop with a friend of hers.”
“Yes, her colleague, Shirley Morley, was the person who alerted the police because she didn’t see her at work. I think she is at the hospital now.”
“I’m going there to see if Miss Morley knows anything.”
He put on his jacket and left in a hurry.
He was the first policeman who had arrived on the scene of the crime when Alison’s mother had been attacked, he was the one who had gone to Alison to break the terrible news, he had waited patiently for her to recover from her shock, he had heard her incoherent account of her mother’s acquaintance with a physiotherapist, who had gone to her home to treat her backache. Then, he had discovered that Alison had seen that nurse by chance, and that she had had the impression her unexpected visit to her mother had annoyed the physiotherapist. She hadn’t been able to understand why. He had contacted the police stations in various parts of Canada, and they had confirmed that similar crimes had been committed in other places, the target being almost invariably old and lonely women who needed a nurse. Alison had spent many hours at the police station, going through photos of suspects. She had helped the officer who had drawn an identikit, even if she had seen that woman only for an instant, and the sketch was practically useless. Then, he remembered Alison’s disillusionment when time had passed and they had not been able to arrest anyone … Afterwards, he had not seen her for some time and now … He prayed she would survive, that she would not die like her mother. He couldn’t help feeling responsible for this attack, maybe if he had investigated more thoroughly …
But almost two years had passed. He thought those criminals had certainly realized the woman could be recognized, and they had decided to stop or to move somewhere else. What had made them come back? What had alerted them?
***
Fredericton, Dr. Everett Chalmers Regional Hospital, 11:00 a.m.
He arrived at the hospital, and he entered the emergency ward. He showed his badge to a nurse, and she directed him to a long corridor. At the end, there were a few chairs near a large closed door. On a chair, he saw a slim woman with her face in her hands. He judged her to be in her forties. He sat down next to her, and she raised her tear-stained face to him. She saw the badge on his belt, and she recognized him, because she had seen him after Alison’s mother’s death, when she had accompanied her friend to the police station.
He said kindly, taking the woman’s hand: “How is she?”
Shirley shook her head slowly and, after a few moments, she said, as if every word cost her an effort: “She is in the operating room. They are trying to remove the bullet, but they told me she lost a lot of blood.” She looked at the policeman and added: “She can’t die, Lieutenant. Oh, please, please, God. She is such a good person; she has never done anything wrong in her life…” Her voice trailed off and her body was shaken by sobs.
Lieutenant Gordon didn’t know what to say, and he waited until the sobs had subsided.
Then he asked Shirley: “I know, I really hope she will make it. But I have to ask you: is there anything I should know? Was your friend worried about something? Did she tell you she had seen that woman, the woman she had met at her mother’s, in the last few days?”
Shirley shook her head and replied,
“No, we haven’t talked about her mum’s death any more. She was agitated, because a woman had tried to contact her to tell her she knew who her father was. Alison’s mother had told her that her father had died before or shortly after her birth. I don’t remember exactly. A few weeks ago, a priest from Rosary, a little town on the coast, called her. An old woman had asked him to put her in contact with Alison. She had recently learnt that her husband was Alison’s father. I think he had had a relationship with Alison’s mother before meeting that old woman, and he confessed this relationship to his wife shortly before he died.”
Gordon was listening intently to what Shirley was telling him, and he was trying to find a connection to her aggression. So far, he couldn’t find any.
A doctor came out of a room in the corridor and Shirley stopped, thinking that maybe he would talk to her about Alison. He glanced at them and went into another room along the corridor.
Shirley went on: “Alison was sad because the priest had told her he would contact her, but then he didn’t, and he didn’t answer the phone. Then, a few days ago, the old lady called her, saying the priest had died in a car accident, and she had found Alison’s mobile phone number. They were going to meet next Saturday. Alison was so excited!” Shirley looked at the policeman and asked: “Do you think this has something to do with the attack?”
“Do you know the lady’s name?”
Shirley thought for a few moments. Alison had learnt the lady’s name only when she had contacted her personally. She looked at the Lieutenant. She was going to say she didn’t remember when she said suddenly: “Oh, I don’t know if I recall the exact name, but I think it was something like Stacey Levis … No, I believe it was Lewis. I think she is a very rich woman.” She didn’t want to talk about the money Alison’s mother had left her.
Lieutenant Gordon took a small pad and a pencil that he always kept in the inside pocket of his jacket and wrote the name, even if he was sure that the attack was connected to Alison’s mother’s murder and not to the meeting with this lady.
Shirley was going to tell him about Alison’s fear of the old lady’s family’s judgment, but at that moment, a doctor came out of the operation room and approached them.
He looked at the Lieutenant’s badge and turned to Shirley. He said kindly: “We were able to extract the bullet. It missed the vital organs by just a couple of inches. She lost a lot of blood, and the next hours are going to be crucial! She has never regained consciousness, and she is still in a coma. When she fell on the floor, she hit her head, and there was a concussion and a hematoma. We hope it will absorb on its own. If there are no further complications in the next hours, we can hope she will recover.” He turned to the policeman and added: “I will let you have the bullet, officer!”
Shirley thanked the doctor and told him she would stay there. The doctor told her softly: “There is nothing you can do here, Madam. Go home and have a rest! When she wakes up or if there are any developments, we will call you. Don’t worry.”
The Lieutenant gave his business card to the doctor and asked him to call the police as soon as Alison could talk. The doctor nodded, put the card in his pocket, and left.
Gordon offered Shirley to take her home, but she replied she had her car, and he watched her walk slowly down the corridor towards the exit.
***
Rosary, Stacey Lewis’ villa, 4:30 p.m.
Dana was taking Robin home from school in her car. He was smiling happily. He had been able to spend some time with her mother in the last two days. It was almost a miracle in recent years, since she had gone to live in St. John. He often wondered why his parents hadn’t been able to build a beautiful, united family like Mario and Giulia’s.
While they were getting out of the car in front of the beautiful villa, she turned to him and announced casually: “Robin, my lawyer’s secretary called me today. She said that I must see my solicitor tomorrow morning for some papers that I have to sign as soon as possible.” Robin’s face fell. He knew in his heart that his time with his mother wouldn’t last a whole week, but he couldn’t conceal his disappointment. His mother saw his sad face, she tousled his hair affectionately, and she said: “Oh, but I will come back soon after my appointment, tomorrow evening, or Thursday morning at the latest. Don’t worry, Robin, I promised to spend time with you this week, and I will keep my promise, ok?”
Robin tried to smile and nodded, even if every time his mum went away, he couldn’t help fearing that she would never come back to him. Sometimes she stayed far away for weeks, she forgot her promises quite often.
He turned to her and said simply: “I really hope you will come back. I wanted to show you my new drawings, and next Saturday I would like to introduce you to my volleyball coach.”
“Of course, Robin. I will be here until Saturday. I have already told you.”
She kissed him on the cheek and added: “Why don’t we go have a pizza together this evening, just the two of us?” Robin’s face lit up, he hugged his mum and he ran into the house to see how his grandma was.
***
5:00 p.m.
Tom couldn’t wait any longer. It had been two weeks since he had met her, since he had been able to spend time with his woman.
He dialed a number and waited nervously.
After a few rings, a female voice answered: “What do you want? I told you to wait for my call.”
“But can you talk now? I just wanted to hear your voice and to know for sure that tomorrow we can meet.”
She replied hastily: “Yes, tomorrow is ok! Same place, same time! But don’t call me! He could hear something …”
“But sooner or later, you will have to tell him about us. How long are you going to hide this from him? I can’t wait much longer. I want to live with you, you know! I love you.”
“Yes, I love you too, and I am trying to find the right moment to tell him. Give me some more time, ok?”
“Ok, ok! But that person who covers you, will she talk maybe?”
“No, don’t worry, she is absolutely trustworthy. See you tomorrow, Tom!”
“See you …” Tom heard a click as the call was disconnected. He looked at his mobile phone and thought: ‘Why did I fall in love with a married woman? Why is everything so complicated? One of these days, I have to tell her I want to stop these clandestine meetings. I want to be able to tell everybody I have a woman, a lover. I don’t want to hide anymore.’
ns216.73.217.69da2
and then Add to home screen.