“Including anyone at the Brothers, or else she would have been dismissed, I imagine,” noted Jamison.
He nodded. “Especially not them. She seemed troubled in a way. I didn’t want to add to those troubles.” He paused and added. “And I’ve dealt with a lot of hookers. Most come from shitty backgrounds and situations. Vulnerable and lost. But Cramer didn’t fit that pattern. There was something about her that seemed, well, focused and intent. Like she was on a mission or something. So, to tell the truth, part of me believed there was something else going on with her.”
“Well, since we were called up, we know there was something else going on with her,” observed Jamison.
Decker said, “The killer might have dumped the body right before it was found.”
Jamison and Kelly glanced sharply at Decker and his abrupt segue, but then Kelly nodded. “I thought about that, too. A body lying out there in the open? Well, you wouldn’t expect to see it in such good shape with all the critters we have up here.” He looked at Jamison. “But to kill someone and then cut up the body like that? That’s pretty damn perverted.”
“We don’t usually hunt anybody who’s not,” noted Decker.
Chapter 9
Following Kelly’s directions, Jamison parked at the curb in front of a four-story brick run-down building that was in an area where no construction cranes and work crews had come to roost. Yet.
They climbed out, and Kelly led them quickly inside because the wind had picked up to a nasty howl and it had started to rain as well.
The landlady’s conjoined apartment and office were on the first floor just off the front entrance. The apartment’s walls were painted a faded green, and the furnishings were old and frayed and looked straight out of the seventies. But the TV parked on one wall was a sixty-inch curved Samsung 4K without a set of rabbit ears in sight.
The landlady’s name was Ida Simms. She was in her seventies, with thinning gray hair tied back in a severe bun. The woman was nearly as wide as she was tall. She greeted them politely, though Decker noted the tremble in her voice and the crumpled tissue clutched in her hand. She had on a large burgundy T-shirt and faded corduroy pants with pale green Crocs below.
They sat in her small front room after declining Simms’s offer of coffee.
She slumped back in her faded recliner and gazed around at them. “Irene, dead? I... I can’t believe it.” She shot Decker a terrified look. “And the FBI called in on top of it? I feel like I’m in a movie.”
“That’s perfectly understandable,” said Jamison kindly. “We’re just here to ask you some questions.”
“I’ll tell you whatever I can if it will help you catch whoever did this,” the woman said earnestly. She blew her nose with authority into the tissue.
“When did she move in here?” asked Decker.
“About a month ago.”
“Do you know where she lived before that?”
“I think at the Dawson Towers complex. It’s about a mile from here. Nicer part of town. Pretty luxurious.”
“Dawson?” said Decker. “Like in Caroline Dawson?”
“Yes. She has a condo there, I believe. And her father, Hugh, owns the Towers, along with about three-quarters of the businesses in London. This building here is one of the few he doesn’t own. Probably wouldn’t make enough money for him,” she added dismissively.
“So he’s the local business tycoon?” said Jamison.
“But a man named Stuart McClellan is even richer.”
“How so?” asked Decker.
Kelly answered. “He owns pretty much all of the oil and gas fracking operations in this area.”
“So do the two men get along?” asked Jamison.
It was Kelly again who answered. “They do business together. But I wouldn’t call them best friends.”
Simms said huffily. “They’re men, and rich men to boot, which means they’re in a lifelong pissing contest — pardon my French — to see who’s the bigger dog in the fight.” She shook her head. “Boys never really grow up, don’t care how much cash they have.”
“Did you know Ms. Cramer very well?” asked Jamison.
Simms said, “I guess as well as anyone in the building. She worked as a teacher out at the Brothers’ school.”
“So we heard. What can you tell us about her?”
“She was quiet. Kept to herself. I mean she was an attractive young woman, but she never had anyone over to her place, least that I know of.”
“Why’d she move here from Dawson Towers? Is it cheaper here?”
“Oh, yes, much cheaper. The Towers is far nicer, like I said. But our rooms are clean and we include trash service and cable TV.”
“Did you ever see her go out at night?”
“No. I get up very early and go to bed the same. If it was after nine o’clock I wouldn’t see her leaving.”
Jamison said, “Did she ever talk about her personal history? How she came to be here?”
Simms sat back and thought about this for a few moments. “Come to think, not really. For some reason I had the feeling that she was from the West Coast. But that’s just a guess.”
Decker looked out the window, where the rain was continuing to pour down. “Did she say why she had come to London in the first place? Did she have a job lined up?”
“Not that she ever said, no. But she did work at the Brothers’ as the teacher, like I said. So maybe that’s what brought her up here.”
Jamison added, “Or was she coming here to be with someone? Maybe followed a boyfriend?”
“Not that I know of.”
“When was the last time you saw her?” asked Kelly.
Simms looked pensive once more. “I believe it was a week ago today.”
Decker glanced at Kelly. “That tightens the coroner’s outside TOD from ten days to five, since her body was found two days ago.”
“But weren’t you concerned that you hadn’t seen her for a week?” asked Jamison.
“No, because she said she was going on a little vacation.”
“Vacation where?” asked Jamison, shooting a glance at Kelly, who looked equally surprised by this revelation.
“She didn’t tell me.”
“She didn’t say if she was meeting someone or traveling with them?” interjected Kelly.
“No, again, we didn’t really discuss it.”
“Did she have any friends who lived here?” asked Jamison.
“Not that she mentioned to me.”
“Not to sound like a cliché, Ida,” said Kelly, “but have you seen any strangers lurking around? Or did Irene mention she was having a problem with anyone?”
“No, nothing like that,” replied Simms, looking alarmed. “This is a good town. Safe for the most part. Oh, I know some of those bozos lose their tempers and get in fights and somebody ends up dead, but, well, people don’t go around murdering each other on purpose.”
“Until now,” said Decker. “I think it’s time we went over her room.”
The apartment was neat, perhaps too much so, thought Decker. The furnishings looked like they had come with the apartment, a fact that Simms had confirmed for them. The tiny kitchen was utilitarian and appeared as though it had never been used. The bedroom held a bed and not much else. There were no books, photos, or mementos. No desktop or laptop computer. And no power cords showing she had such devices.
Decker eyed Kelly. “Simms said that she never saw Cramer go out at night, presumably because she went to bed too early.”