‘What about her most recent credit card transactions?’
Alfonse hands me a printout of Kira’s bank and credit card statements. ‘The last ten entries are small beer. Groceries, hair salons and so on. A couple of meals out. Nowhere fancy, the kind of places we take dates.’
‘Were the transactions all here or elsewhere?’
‘Most were local, but there were a couple of things bought online from Amazon and other retailers.’
I stop questioning him while I think about what he’s told me so far. Kira Niemeyer had a privileged life, yet she only spent a quarter of the money she received on herself. That in itself was odd.
There were a number of girls in her position living in Casperton and they all spent money as if it were the last day of the sales. The clothes I’d found in Kira’s master bedroom had all been good quality with decent labels, but looking at her bank statements, I see she could have afforded better.
Yet the clothes in the other bedroom ranged from cheap to top dollar fashion. Some could be bought in a thrift store while others bore the fanciest of labels.
‘You see where her credit card was last used?’
Alfonse nods. ‘Of course.’
‘Do you think it’s him?’
‘I don’t know. Seems too simple to me. Everyone knows what a pervert he is, but I don’t know if he’s capable of killing someone.’
‘Those were my initial thoughts too, but all the same we’d better check him out.’
Alfonse is looking at me in a way that indicates he has more to say so I give him a nod.
‘She has secrets, Jake. She’s been doing something she’s determined to keep hidden. When I checked the files for her search history there were numerous occasions where I think she’s went InPrivate.’
‘What do you mean?’
‘With most operating systems there’s a way of going online without leaving an obvious trail on your computer or tablet. Husbands use it for looking at porn or emailing their mistresses without their wives being able to find out.’ He drains his coffee with a noisy slurp. ‘I went onto a hacker’s forum last night and tried to find out if there’s a way to get the data.’
‘And?’ I try to keep the impatience from my voice, but if his sour expression is anything to go by I’ve failed.
‘I was pointed to a program which I downloaded. It’s probing at her iPad now. When I looked before getting into the shower, it still had three hours to run.’
‘C’mon. Let’s go and speak with him now. If we’re in luck we’ll beat Farrage and his buddies.’ I reach for my jacket as I rise to my feet. ‘I’ll tell you more about what I found at Kira’s house on the way.’
8
I pull the Mustang into the yard adjacent to Casperton Auto Repairs and we go looking for Lunk.
The last use of Kira’s credit card had been here.
Alfonse leads the way into the garage. Lunk’s feet poke out from underneath an SUV.
I give his boot a gentle kick and wait until he slides out.
‘We need to talk to you.’
He doesn’t bother getting to his feet, he just lies on his back like an oil-soaked slug. Every inch of his overalls is a dull black where oil, grease and dirt have been ground in over countless months and years. The T-shirt underneath the overalls has the same disgusting patina. The unruly curls of hair sprouting from underneath his cap don’t look any cleaner, while his beard resembles second-hand steel wool.
‘Go talk somewhere else, Boulder. This is an auto repair place not a coffee shop.’
‘Get up, Lunk.’ I let a little menace creep into my voice as we don’t have time for his posturing. ‘This is a conversation you’re going to want to have.’
‘Whaddaya mean?’
‘You heard about Kira Niemeyer, right?’
He gives a slight nod before a lascivious look fills his eyes. ‘I have. Shame, she was a pretty little thing. A real animal in the sack.’
I shake my head at his bull. There’s no way Kira would have let this grease monkey lay a finger on her. ‘Really? AD Investigations has been hired to look into her death.’
I let Lunk bluster until he runs out of steam.
‘That’ll interest Lieutenant Farrage and his detective buddies, because sooner or later they’ll get around to checking her credit card statement. We’ve already had a look. Can you have a guess as to where she made her last payment?’
It doesn’t take him long to make the obvious connection. He’s unhygienic, not stupid. As soon as realisation strikes, his whole demeanour shifts.
Fear shrouds his eyes while his shoulders droop. Watching his face, I can almost see the cogs whirring as he works out he might just end up as chief suspect when the police roll up.
For all his lecherous behaviour and bull he is no fool.
‘When was she killed?’
‘We haven’t spoken to the coroner yet but she was found yesterday evening.’ I shrug. ‘He’ll need to establish a time of death and we’ll need to check people’s whereabouts. As will Lieutenant Farrage.’
The wrinkles on his brow deepen. His hands shake as he spreads them wide. ‘I’ve been working my usual hours. You know how late I usually work, Jake. You can vouch for me, can’t you?’
I do know how late he works. His garage is across the street from the Tree and I often see his lights still on when I leave at the end of a night.
That doesn’t mean I can guarantee he is innocent. But it does mean I can stand as a character witness and state with hand on heart that Lunk can often be found working long after midnight.
It also means I can testify he is a night owl, who is often awake when the night is at its darkest. Perhaps he’ll be safer if he keeps me out of it. If asked in a courtroom about Lunk’s character, my honest answer would do his defence far more harm than good.
He hasn’t been allowed into the Tree since the time he left oil stains on a stool and grubby fingerprints on a barmaid’s ass. This doesn’t stop him hanging around outside so he can ogle the girls and try his sexist lines on them.
I can understand his fear. With no one at home to verify his movements he’ll have no alibi other than being seen to be working. Somewhere deep in his brain he must realise nobody believes a word he says and at best, the girls all think of him as a creep.
We throw questions at him for a while but get nothing incriminating or exonerating. He has no alibi, but then again, he doesn’t seem to have a reason to kill her.
Sure, Kira may have rebuffed his advances with a withering put-down, but I’ve seen him take enough verbal batterings from potential conquests to know he has skin thicker than a rhinoceros.
It all boils down to what the coroner has found. If Kira had been sexually assaulted before she was murdered, Lunk will have a tough time ahead of him.
As we prepare to leave, an unmarked sedan comes to a screeching halt inches from the SUV Lunk has been working on.
The sedan’s doors fly open, disgorging Lieutenant Farrage and one of his detective buddies.
Farrage grabs Lunk, spins him round and slams him face first against the SUV. Handcuffs are snapped onto Lunk’s wrists and a breathless Farrage begins to read him his rights.
‘You got a warrant for his arrest?’
I keep my tone mild, but Farrage is too keyed up to be sensible. Like the imbecile he is, he’d have seen Kira’s spending history and put two and two together. The problem is, he’s not capable of making four. He’d be lucky to make five or three.
‘Butt out, Boulder. This isn’t your business.’
Farrage squares up to me. All posture and no substance, he knows I can kick his ass, but won’t because of the badge on his belt.