Chapter Sixteen

After Declan and Charlie left Katherine's, they headed towards Sheldon Prescott's home. They drove west, past the towering ski jumps and serpentine bobsleigh tracks built on the former Paskapoo Ski Hill for the 1988 Olympic Winter Games. Fifteen minutes later, they turned towards Mountain River Estates, an area known for large mansions with impressive views of the nearby Rocky Mountains.

As they made their way down the drive to Sheldon Prescott's house, they were met by a closed gate set into a tall brick wall that surrounded the property.

"Holy… This place must be worth a fortune. It makes Katherine's place look small," Charlie said.

Declan nodded as he buzzed the intercom.

"Can I help you?" a scratchy voice said over the speaker.

"It's Declan Hunt. I'm a friend of Katherine Mann. I have an appointment with Sheldon Prescott."

The gates swung open and they proceeded up the long drive to the house.

"Should I bring the camera with me?" Charlie asked.

"Yeah. We probably won't need it inside, but I'm hoping we'll be allowed to do a search of the grounds."

Declan did a quick scan of the nearby property, noting the presence of several CCTV cameras. He also took in the placement of trees and bushes which might offer cover to someone who wanted to remain unseen.

As they left the van, the front door of the house opened and a heavy-set man in his mid-sixties stepped out onto the stone portico. He was dressed in casual slacks and a colourful print shirt. His hair was obviously dyed jet black and his teeth were a little too white. He tries to look young, but the face-lift and hair plugs are a bit too obvious, Declan mused.

"Mr Prescott? I'm Declan Hunt, and this is my assistant Charlie Watts."

"Ah. Like the drummer," Sheldon quipped.

"Yeah." Charlie feigned a weak laugh. "Just like the drummer."

"As you know, we're here about Ian Mann. Can we come in and talk?"

"Please," Sheldon answered, motioning for them to enter. He looked uncomfortable.

Sheldon ushered them into a sitting room to the left of the entrance hall, which was the size of Declan's entire apartment. An orange tabby cat lay on a couch by the window. Sheldon swatted at it. "Scat!"

It wandered away, unfussed.

They sat on what Declan thought of as ‘old-lady' furniture—frilly, but very comfortable.

"I hope you don't mind, but I've asked another of Ian's friends to join us," Sheldon started.

"Of course," Declan said.

"Robert," Sheldon called out. "Robert! The detectives are here." Sheldon stood and walked back toward the hall, yelling, "Rob—"

"No need to yell. I'm old, but I'm not deaf," called another voice.

Around the corner from the hall an older man in a wheelchair appeared. He sported a well-fitting grey jacket with matching pants and a powder-blue shirt open at the neck. Unlike Sheldon, it was clear he wasn't trying to hide his age. His hair was thinning and grey. He wore thick-rimmed glasses and his moustache was unevenly trimmed. He had an air of unkempt nobility.

Declan and Charlie stood. Sheldon waved a hand toward them. "Robert, this is Declan Hunt and his assistant, Charles Watts."

"Please, call me Charlie," Charlie added.

"And I'm Robert Williams, Ian's oldest, and I do mean oldest friend."

"I'm so pleased that you could join us, Mr Williams," Declan said.

"Please, call me Robert," he said, grasping Declan's hand in both of his. "As we are dealing with such an intimate situation, I feel that we should all be on a first-name basis. Please, no need to stand on my account."

Everyone sat.

Declan began, "First of all, we want to assure you that everything disclosed today will be held in the strictest of confidence."

As he spoke, Declan could see Sheldon checking them both out. He had no idea if his sexual preference was for males but he hoped that Sheldon would be attracted to one of them. Sexual desire for an interviewer almost always resulted in an interviewee being more helpful.

Robert had positioned himself next to Charlie, staring longingly at the young man.

Sheldon broke the silence. "Katherine's a dear friend. I hope I can help, although…I'm sure you can understand that there are some things I may not be at liberty to discuss."

"Likewise," Robert added.

"Of course," Declan said. "Is it all right with you if Charlie takes notes?"

"Please, go ahead," Sheldon said to Charlie.

Charlie had stuffed his pad and pen into the outer pouch of the camera bag. When he retrieved them, Sheldon became visibly nervous. "May I ask what's in that case?"

"Just some camera equipment, sir," Charlie replied. "Nothing is recording. I'll remove the batteries if that will make you feel more comfortable," he offered, then did so.

Good boy, Charlie, Declan thought.

"Thank you. I know it may seem a bit paranoid…"

"No. Not at all," Declan responded.

"It's important that you feel comfortable," Charlie added. "You've invited us into your home. You should always feel safe here."

Declan saw Sheldon start to relax. Charlie had worked his wonders.

"Now, if you could tell me about what happened the night of Thursday, the seventh of July."

The tabby cat returned to the room. It paid no attention to Declan or Charlie, and hopped up on the couch where Sheldon sat. It nuzzled up to him and flopped into his lap. Sheldon began to absentmindedly stroke it.

"There isn't much to tell," he began. "Ian arrived a little later than usual." He addressed his words to the cat, looking at neither Declan nor Charlie.

"Do you remember what time he got here?" Declan asked.

"He usually arrived just after seven. He liked to get here before anyone else. Ian liked to transform, as he called it, before any of the others arrived. He used to say it helped to set the tone for the evening. Our guests all had different tastes. Some dressed simply, some liked to wear next-to-nothing, but Ian always changed into something truly elegant—"

"He was definitely here before I arrived, which would have been about eight," Robert interrupted. "I was running behind schedule. My driver was late in picking me up. Ian was just putting on his finishing touches before he helped me get ready. He always helped me. I'm not as flexible as I once was. There was a time I would never have allowed that. The reveal is part of the fun, like in a magic act."

"Did Ian seem…distracted by anything?" Declan asked.

"Not that I remember," Sheldon answered. "He rarely brought any problems to our soirées. They're a place to escape our troubles. If anyone started to complain about things, Ian was the first to tell them to leave their problems at the doorstep. The night was for pretty people doing pretty things."

Robert interrupted, "That's not exactly true. Don't you remember?"

"Remember what?" Sheldon asked.

"Ian was all fussed about a property of his that someone wanted to buy. Ian needed the money, or so he said, but he had an emotional attachment to the building that was standing in the way." Robert redirected his focus to Declan. "The interesting thing about being in a wheelchair is that people often forget you're there. You become a piece of furniture, and no one bothers to hold their tongue when they perceive you as nothing more than an ottoman next to them."

"Oh, Robert, you're always overreacting."

"Sheldon, if you didn't want me to tell them what I heard, why did you invite me?"

Sheldon sat back, looking mildly annoyed. He began to stroke the cat with more vigour.

Declan intervened. "Did Ian say anything else?"

Robert replied, "He was strangely upset by the whole thing. Imagine, anyone being attached to any building in this town. I did ask if he was being strong-armed into doing something and he immediately changed the subject, flattering me on my dress and the new wig I'd bought."

He turned to Charlie. "It was a beautiful shag cut, a là 1970s Jane Fonda, not that her name would necessarily mean anything to you. You are so young… It would look fabulous on you, though. You have the figure for it."

Charlie smiled.

"Ian said he should take my picture," Robert continued. "You know, do a real photo shoot. He was always talking about how much he missed being a photographer."

Robert turned his attention to Charlie. "You know, he was the go-to photographer when he was still in London," he said, putting his hand on Charlie's knee.

As Robert spoke, Declan kept an eye on Sheldon, who gave the impression of someone used to the limelight who was being upstaged. He stroked the cat even harder. The cat gave Sheldon a swat with its clawed paw.

"Ow. You little bitch," he snapped, pushing it off his lap onto the floor. A small trickle of blood ran down his hand. Sheldon pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and held it to the wound. "You feed and care for the children, and this is how they show their gratitude."

The cat wandered over to Charlie and hopped up beside him, where it settled in, staring at Sheldon.

Declan decided to refocus the conversation. "Were the usual guests all here that night?"

"All but one," Sheldon said, excited to be back into the conversation. "He was off with his wife in Cancún."

"So, how many guests did you have?"

"I don't know… There would have been me, Ian and Robert…" He started counting on his fingers, then continued in silence until he reached, "Twelve. Yes, twelve guests."

Declan continued his questioning. "Did anything out of the ordinary happen? Any arguments break out, especially involving Ian?"

"No. It was one big happy party," Sheldon said.

"It was a delightful evening," Robert added.

"And what time did Ian leave?" Declan asked.

Sheldon pondered the question for a moment before answering. "Well, he was usually the first in and first out. It would have been about…one in the morning."

"That's the last we saw of him before he disappeared," Robert added.

"Do you think something's happened to him?" Declan asked.

Robert was the first to answer. "Of course I do. There is no possible way that he would leave without saying goodbye to Katherine. He loved that woman. They had a good marriage, albeit unusual by most people's standards, and I'm sure there was no one else in his life. He would have said something to me about that. He told me everything."

"I have a delicate question to ask. You and he seemed to be…close," Declan commented.

"Are you asking if we were lovers?" Robert asked.

Sheldon snorted.

"I suppose I am," Declan said.

Robert smiled. "I should have been so lucky. But, no. I did love him, but it was unrequited. We were just destined to be good friends."

Robert, once again turned to Charlie. "Life seems to be full of amorous rejection. Be prepared for it, my young friend. But accept that it will happen and that, no matter how much the rejection hurts, you will survive, just like Gloria Gaynor says."

Declan saw Charlie's puzzled look and continued the interview. "Do you know if he was seeing anyone outside his marriage?"

"I don't think so," Sheldon said.

"Is there anything else that you can add that might clear up his disappearance?"

"Nothing that I can think of. He was a beautiful person, inside and out. I can't see why anyone would want to hurt him," Sheldon said.

Robert looked at Declan. "I hope I was able to help, even in a small way. Ian was very important to me…"

Robert's eyes began to fill with tears. Charlie put his hand on his shoulder, which Robert took in his and kissed.

"Well then, I guess we should be off." Declan got up to go. Charlie remained seated.

"Mr Prescott?" Charlie added.

"Yes?" Sheldon responded.

"I don't think your cat wants me to go."

The cat, now sitting in Charlie's lap, had its front claws deeply embedded in Charlie's leg—ten small spots of blood coloured the fabric of his pants.

"Oh my God! I am so sorry," Sheldon cried out. "Let go of him, you little cunt!" he screeched. The cat detached herself from Charlie's leg, plopped herself down on the floor and swayed out of the room.

"That cat is my ex-wife's. She got most of my money and I got the house and that holy terror. Send me the bill for a new pair of pants. I'll deduct it from her alimony."

"Oh, you poor dear boy," Robert offered, stroking Charlie's hand.

"Thank you for your concern, Robert. I'm fine," Charlie said as he stood and stuffed his notepad back into the camera bag.

As they made their way to the front door, Declan turned back to Sheldon. "I noticed that you have CCTV cameras covering the area. Were they functioning the night of the party?"

"As far as I know," Sheldon replied.

"Would you still have the video from that night?"

"The security company is supposed to keep it for a week. If I call them today, it should be just in time."

"Would you be able to get them to send me video files from that evening? From, say six p.m. until two a.m.?"

"I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you. I'd really appreciate it. And thank you both for taking the time to talk to us."

"I hope you find Ian. He was a good friend," Sheldon said.

"We'll do our best," Declan said, then shook Sheldon's hand.

"One more thing. Do you remember where Ian parked that night?" Declan asked.

"He always parked down by the tall spruce tree near the end of the drive. He said it made for an easier getaway."

"If it's okay with you, we'd like to just look around the area where the cars were parked," Declan added.

"Be my guest."

"Thank you, Mr Prescott, Mr Williams," Charlie added, giving them a crooked smile and shaking their hands.

As they walked back towards the car, Declan said, "You made quite an impression on Mr Williams."

"I didn't lead him on, did I? I just wanted to get the most out of the interview."

"You did well."

"I noticed that when you were interviewing Sheldon and Robert, you didn't mention that they'd found Ian's body."

"Sometimes the hope of saving someone is a stronger motivating force than that of dealing with something that can't be reversed."

They stopped to check out the area where Ian Mann had parked. Charlie put the batteries back in the camera. Declan had Charlie photograph the location and nearby gardens from different angles.

"Is there anything in particular we should be looking for?" Charlie asked.

"I'm just trying to get a feel for the last place Ian was known to be." Declan wandered the area by the tall spruce, looking around. In the detritus under the tree, he found a gum wrapper. He asked Charlie for the camera bag. From one of its pockets he pulled a small Ziploc bag which he flicked the wrapper into with the aid of a twig.

"You never know," he said to Charlie. "It might be useful."

He headed back to the van, Charlie in tow. As they drove towards the gate, Declan pulled over. "One more thing."

Declan hopped out of the van.

"Where are you going?" Charlie asked.

"Stay put. I'll be right back."

Declan walked over to the property line on the side of the gate that Ian had parked on. He worked his way along the wall, carefully studying the ground. Ten feet in, well sheltered from prying eyes, he spotted what he was looking for—a deep set of shoe prints. He placed one of his own feet next to them, careful not to put any pressure on the soil and leave a print of his own. The prints were just about the same size as his shoe—a ten. He snapped a shot of the markings on his phone, with his own as scale. Afterwards, he looked up at the wall. Eight feet high, maybe more. The guy must've been pretty fit.

He made his way back to the vehicle carefully.

When he reached the van he said, "The thing we really want is that CCTV video. That'll be gold, if we get it."

* * * *

Declan and Charlie drove back towards the office.

"Don't you ever get hungry?" Charlie asked.

"Why? Are you hungry?"

"Aren't you?"

"A detective can go a day without food. It's like camels and water."

"But I'm an office assistant. Speaking of which, do I get a contract or something?"

"I'll look through the files and find what I had drawn up for Mrs B. We can start with that until we know how long you're staying."

"That sounds good."

They drove on in silence for a few more minutes.

"I'm getting dizzy with hunger."

"Hold on. I have a place in mind."

Declan pulled into a restaurant parking lot. It was a breakfast place and the lot was fairly empty.

"Breakfast for lunch okay for you?" Declan asked.

"Perfect. My body has no idea what time it is."

Declan moved to the booth farthest from the door, and sat facing the rest of the patrons. Charlie plunked himself across from him and browsed the menu on the paper placemat. What he craved was eggs Benedict, but he quickly discovered why the restaurant was called ‘No Poaching'. They appeared to prepare eggs any way but.

A waitress approached the table. She wore a black skirt, white blouse, pink apron and a baseball cap. Her name tag said "Doreen".

"Coffees?" she asked, leaning in and smiling at Declan.

"You bet. Thanks," he replied, and gave her a heart-melting smile. "And I'll have the egg-white omelette, please. Doreen."

The waitress finished writing up his order and continued to stare at Declan.

Charlie interrupted her reverie, "And I'll have the eggs over easy with peameal bacon, rye toast…and home fries."

She jotted down Charlie's order and walked away without looking at him.

Charlie looked at him. "Do you have that effect on everyone?"

Declan grinned. "Yup. So, let's look at what we've got. A man has been found dead. He disappeared after leaving a secret party—one that, if it became publicly known, could potentially have done him, and others, a lot of harm, both socially and in business. His wife's been having a secret affair on him, although they had an open relationship—"

Charlie interrupted, "An open relationship where she broke the established rules. So the boyfriend is also a suspect."

"Very good. What else, in terms of relationships?"

Charlie continued, "Robert had a crush on Ian, but Ian didn't feel the same way about him. But if it was a case of jealousy, he'd more than likely kill the other person before he'd kill Ian. And, really, I don't think it would be easy for him to dispose of a body while he's in a wheelchair, unless he was working with someone else."

Declan nodded his head in agreement. "We also know that Ian was involved in a business deal that was causing him stress. Maybe you could find out what land holdings Ian Mann had, both past and present. There might be something online. Or you might have to go down to City Hall and check the land records. If we could find out if anyone has been buying up properties around one of his, we might have ourselves another suspect."

"I'll see what I can find," Charlie said.

The waitress dropped off the coffees. "Here you go," she said, winking at Declan.

Charlie grimaced.

Declan's phone pinged with an incoming text. He glanced down at it.

"Oh-oh."

"What is it?" Charlie asked.

"It's from Luke."

Charlie's upper lip twitched ever so slightly.

"Seems he wants to have a bit of a chat," Declan said, while texting a return message. "Apparently he was surprised to see us at Katherine's."

"How ‘bout that?"

"I told him to swing by the office after his shift. Let's see what he has to say."

The waitress dropped off their food. She leaned in towards Declan and asked, "Is there anything else I can get you?"

Charlie quickly replied, "No. We're fine, thanks. And you can bring us the bill."