There Are No Accidents Page 9

  “Yes. It was just after the trial that I found out he was innocent and I didn’t tell anyone. I let him go to jail for murder.” Tom looked hard into my eyes, searching for any sign of condemnation.

  “I’m a little confused,” I said. “Please explain to me, how you know he didn’t kill Lauren.”

  “It was the day of the trial, I was driving back to the station and on an impulse, I stopped off at Lauren’s house… your old house. I walked into the backyard to look for anything that forensics might have missed. There were no recorded fingerprints, footprints, nothing that would confirm that Gary had killed her. I wanted certainty. Everything was based on circumstantial evidence. That’s when the whole scene played out before me. There was the gardener, the knife and the cat.” Tom explained the whole scenario of how the gardener had left his pruning knife on the wall and how the cat had sprung on the end of the knife and sent it hurtling into Lauren’s neck.

  “Oh my God! Are you sure?” I was stunned by this revelation.

  “Yes, I’m sure. I tested it. It was the cat who killed Lauren Carter.”

  “The cat… not Gary?” I said in disbelief.

  “Yes, but how could I explain it? I’d have been a laughing stock and it was, after all, only a theory.”

  “Yes, I see your point. No one would’ve believed you… but Gary,” I laughed. “It’s incredible!”

  “So you understand my predicament. Gary knows he’s innocent, I know he’s innocent, but Gary doesn’t know I know. Can you follow all that?” Tom said.

  “Just about… but why didn’t you tell me when we first met?” I demanded.

  “Because your book was already published and to be honest… I didn’t think you’d believe me. My theory sounded so absurd.”

  “But we talked about everything… shared all our secrets… I would’ve listened.”

  “I’m sorry. If I’d known he’d come looking for you—” Tom’s voice broke as he continued, “You know I’d do anything for you, I never thought—”

  “Oh my God! That’s why Gary wants me to change the ending of my book. I wrote that he killed his wife… and he didn’t! What am I going to do?”

  “You say and do nothing. Now that he’s found me, I’ll become his prime target. He wants to get even, take his revenge for all those wasted years that he spent rotting in jail,” Tom said. “This situation is now far more serious.”

  “What next?” I asked.

  “First thing tomorrow, we’ll get you another cell phone. I’ll take charge of this one so if he calls again, he’ll get me. Don’t worry, I will get him,” Tom said convincingly. This was a lot to absorb in the middle of the night and sleeping was no longer an option, so I went and made coffee. It was 3 a.m.

  *

  Tom’s friend traced Gary’s phone from the text messages and the call. It was registered to a woman. LAPD paid her a visit and found that he’d been staying at her house. “Should’ve known that he’d link up with a woman,” said Tom on hearing this information. “With a criminal record, it’s hard to find a job, but he still knows how to be a conman. Looks like he shacked up with a vulnerable older woman. Just like him to sweet-talk her into letting him stay. Bet she’s supporting him too.” Tom immediately ordered one of his PI guys to watch her house and report back on any activity.

  Everything went quiet for a week and I was lulled into a false sense of security. I was beginning to think about venturing out on my own again when we heard my old cell phone. We’d set a special ringtone for Gary, so we knew it was him. Tom answered.

  “Well if it ain’t the motherfucker who sent me to jail! I’ve been looking for you,” he said. “You and your bitch. You’re gonna get what’s coming to you and this time… it’ll hurt.”

  “Don’t you fucking threaten me, I’ll—” Tom held the phone away from his ear and said, “He’s gone, but I’ll get him.” He instantly reported the call to his ex-colleagues within LAPD and placed his own guys on alert.

  “Oh God Tom, I want this to end. When will he stop?”

  “I’ll get him… I promise. Give it a couple of days,” he said, pocketing the old cell phone. He would keep this with him from now on.

  *

  A week went by and nothing. “I’m going to get my hair cut,” I said during breakfast. “I’ve made an appointment for today. I’ve written down the address, here,” I said, pushing the detailed Post-it across the kitchen table. “It’s located at the far end of the mall. Ok?” Tom studied the address.

  “All right, you know the drill. My guy will stay with you and if you’re concerned about anything, you only have to call,” Tom said. “But be careful… I love you.” I gave him a reassuring kiss goodbye, but both of us were still apprehensive.

  As I drove out the gate I embraced my freedom. I felt I’d been the one incarcerated and I’d been let out of jail today. I supposed that’s how Gary must have felt too. I tried not to think about it… or him. The sun was shining and I inhaled the fresh sweet scent of the air as I walked towards the salon. I knew Tom’s guy was watching me, so I intended to relax and enjoy the pampering.

  *

  Half an hour later, Tom got a call.

  “Boss, we’ve got company,” said the PI who was caretaking Frances. Tom listened intently. “He’s sitting on the bench outside the salon.”

  “Can he see Frances?” Tom asked.

  “Yeah! The front of the salon is all glass and she’s sitting with her back to us. Some girl is cutting her hair. She’s chatting, looks happy.”

  “Keep your eyes on Gary, if he makes a move, you head straight for the salon door, ok?”

  “Ok Boss. Oh! He’s on the move… he’s walking towards the glass.”

  “Has she seen him yet?” Tom said urgently.

  “No, the stylist is blocking her view so Frances has no clue he’s behind her. I’m heading for the door.”

  “I’m on my way,” said Tom.

  “Too late, the girl moved! She’s seen him through the mirror,” the PI reported. “The girl is leaning over her now, she seems to think Frances is unwell…she’s going off—”

  “Get to the door… I’ll call her.”

  “Frances, stay calm,” Tom said. “My guy has the salon door covered. I’m on my way.”

  “He’s just standing there, staring at me through the glass. He’s smiling and now… he just waved at me. What shall I do Tom?”

  “Do nothing, look away and stay in your seat. Remember, the door is covered.” Tom drove fast, dropped his car in a waiting area and ran towards the salon. “Where is he?” Tom asked his PI guy.

  “He’s gone. He walked off into the mall as you turned the corner.”

  “Go! See if you can catch up and tail him. I’ll get Frances home.” Tom entered the salon and wrapped his arms around Frances, who was still shaking.

  *

  “I’ve brought her some water, she wasn’t feeling well,” said the stylist, addressing Tom. “Do you want me to finish?”

  “Yes, I’ll be ok. My husband will take me home when we’re done,” Frances said. Tom pulled up a chair and sat facing the glass. His PI guy returned and gestured that he’d lost Gary in the crowd. Frances was safe… this time.

  Frances waited in the salon while Tom fetched her car, then the two of them drove home in convoy, followed closely by the PI. Once she was safely inside the house, Tom returned to work, leaving her in the care of his trusted employees. But his stress levels elevated when the cell phone tucked inside his pocket rang. The number was withheld and the ringtone was not the chosen one assigned to Gary.

  “I’ve got her.” It was Gary’s ice-cold voice. “I win, I got my surety… now you’ve got to meet my demands or you lose.”

  “You’re bluffing. Frances is safe at home,” Tom said.

  “Is she? I wouldn’t be too sure about that,” Gary replied.

  “Prove it,” said Tom.

  “Sure. Call her cell,” and he hung up. Tom immediately called Frances’s cell and w
aited for her to answer, but the voice on the end of the call was male.

  “Believe me now?” said Gary and his laugh was chilling.

  “What do you want?” said Tom, desperately.

  “I want money… compensation for all those years I sat rotting in a cold, damp jail. I want you to pay for what you did and if you don’t, Frances will just disappear… puff!” and he blew down the phone and laughed again.

  “How much,” said Tom.

  “Let’s see, I spent four thousand, eight hundred and thirty-five days in jail for a crime I didn’t commit. Add some zeros for compensation and we arrive at the nice round figure of five hundred thousand… cash, of course.”

  “You’re crazy! I don’t have that kind of money.”

  “I’m not unreasonable… I’ll give you some time, say, three days? You work your butt off arranging the cash and I’ll give your woman a good time… It’s been a while since I had a classy bit of ass. Yeah… I’ll look after her really well. But if you don’t come up with the cash after three days, well… let’s say… things could become—”

  “Ok, I’ll get it. How do I contact you?” Tom asked.

  “You don’t. I’ll call you and no police or she’ll get hurt, understood?” and the phone went dead. Tom leant forward and put his head in his hands. What the hell was he going to do? This was all his fault. He paced up and down, trying to think rationally, drawing on all his experience he’d gained over the years in the police. He knew that if he involved LAPD things could go terribly wrong and he wasn’t prepared to take that chance. Frances was everything to him. Then it hit him! Why hadn’t his PI guy called him. He was stationed outside the house… he was watching Frances!

  “What the hell happened? How did you let him get her? Why didn’t you alert me?” Tom questioned him furiously.

  “Hey,” he answered. “Everything’s ok. Stay calm.”

  “Calm! You’re telling me to stay calm when Gary’s got Frances!” Tom shouted.

  “Hey Boss, listen! Frances is fine. I can see her now, she’s outside in the yard by the roses,” he said.

  “Are you sure she’s alone? Is there any possible way Gary could have got past you and into the house?”

  “No, not possible. You know me, I wouldn’t let him near her.” The PI was adamant. Tom was confused. He jumped in his car and drove home in record time. As he opened the front door, he was overcome with relief. Frances was standing in front of him.

  “What a surprise!” I said, walking over to greet him. “I thought you’d be working late tonight… whatever’s the matter?” I’d never seen Tom so distraught before. Tears were streaming down his face. He couldn’t speak, he just stood and reached for me.

  “I thought he’d taken you,” he said at last. We sat down and he explained about the harrowing call from Gary.

  “I don’t understand?” I said. “Unless—” I went directly to my purse and turned it upside down. Everything fell to the ground… except my cell phone. In one instant it registered. “I’ve lost my phone. I must have left it at the salon, but how did Gary get it?”

  “I’m go’n find out right now! Do you have the number of the salon?”

  “Yeah, I have an appointment card… somewhere!” I said, scrambling through my belongings which were strewn all over the floor. “Here it is… I’ll call,” I said, as I punched in the digits and placed it on speakerphone. “Hi, this is Frances, did I leave my cell phone at your salon today?”

  “Yes Frances, you left it at your stylist’s station. You know, she ran after you, but you were just driving away, so she left it with reception. Then a gentleman walked in and collected it… said he was a good friend, so I gave it to him. Was that all right?”

  “That’s fine, thanks,” I hung up and turned to Tom. “Gary must have been watching us as we left the salon. He was still there! Oh, this is so creepy.”

  “He must have backtracked. Don’t worry, I’ll get him,” said Tom, and he placed a consoling hand on my shoulder. “I’m gonna call your cell, right now.” With his phone in speaker mode, he pressed the quick dial for my number.

  “So you liked my little joke?” Gary’s voice was unmistakable and his words dissolved into an eerie laughter that echoed in our ears. “This was just a rehearsal. Next time it’ll be for real,” and he hung up.

  “Oh Tom, I don’t think I’ll ever forget that laugh as long as I live,” but Tom wasn’t listening.

  “Frances!” he said. “We’ve got him! He’s using your cell phone!”

  “So?”

  “Don’t you see? His previous cell phones were old and untraceable. Your iPhone has a GPS signal! We can trace it!” He moved quickly and called his hi-tech friend who would now be able to pinpoint Gary’s position. “I don’t know how much charge is left on the phone,” Tom explained, “so I’m going to have to ask you to be real fast.”

  “Sure I can do it Tom, but it’ll cost you this time, OK?”

  “Understood. We’ve all gotta make a living, that’s fine, just do it. Thanks.” Tom would have paid three times the going rate and more, to get this information. Tonight we would know where Gary was hiding.

  We really couldn’t settle, we poured a drink and just sat and waited. “You know Tom, I purposely didn’t lock the new cell phone so that I could call you immediately. If I had locked it, Gary couldn’t have used it and we wouldn’t have a fix on his location.”

  “Clever girl,” Tom said, lightening their mood. “Let’s eat and try to relax.”

  *

  Within a couple of hours, we received the awaited call. “Ok, we’ve got an address!” Tom was ecstatic. “I’ll call the guys at the station, they’ll go’n pick him up and we’ll press charges.” Tom walked quickly into a quiet room to make the call, only to return in a furious mood. “They’re not going to do anything! Their superior officer has defined that this hoax is not an offence for which they can arrest him. The best they can offer is to go and talk with him and issue a warning. This is unbelievable! Even with the existing restraining order, they won’t haul him in because they’ve been ordered to follow procedure! For God’s sake, they think I don’t know about following procedure! You get around it at times like this… bend the rules… get the bastard off the streets! The main thing here, is to keep safe.” Tom reeled off a stream of expletives and poured himself another bourbon. “It’s that damn guy Andy. He hates my guts because I got the promotion he wanted… never forgave me for that… and now he’s capitalizing on it.” We sat in silence for at least an hour. Gary had threatened that next time he would play this game for real. I could no longer hide my fear, I sat and shook while Tom fumed.

  Chapter 10

  THE RECKONING

  We went our separate ways for the remainder of the day. I to my office to write, in the hope that work would provide some distraction and Tom took to the road. He was intent on persuading his ex-colleagues to arrest Gary for stalking, for which we’d press charges and get him put away, at least for a while. Tom also knew that he’d have to call in a few favors and lean on a couple of officials. He didn’t expect this to be easy and he counted on their loyalty.

  *

  Tom drove by the entrance of the local television studios and he began to think of Lauren. How she had driven through this gate every working day to appear in the popular drama series. He became so engrossed in his thoughts that he found himself turning the wheel and presenting himself at that very same security gate. The security officer looked up at Tom and on seeing the flash of his LAPD badge, immediately lifted the barrier. Tom was inside without realizing what he had done. Flashing his expired badge had been an instinctive reaction and he instantly knew why he was here. It was as though someone or something had thrown a switch and he was now on automatic pilot.

  Tom sensed that a young woman might follow a soap drama and so he stopped his car to ask directions.

  “Hi, do you know where the studio for… eh? Oh, I’ve forgotten the name of the TV series.” Tom paused, t
rying hard to recall the soap opera. “I’ve totally forgotten the name, but the director is Gina?”

  “Oh yeah, Gina’s studio’s over there,” she said pointing to the next block. “Building number four and the series is called All My Family, remember?” Tom’s hand sprang to his forehead with the action of pretending to remember.

  “Ah… of course, thanks,” and he made his way to Gina’s studio. He parked the car, slid inside through a side door and listened. They weren’t shooting, just rehearsing, so he whispered to the nearest person and they pointed at the director’s chair.

  “Excuse me,” he said and nodded politely. “Are you Gina?” The red-haired Italian woman shot him a serious look.

  “Who are you? What do you want?”

  “I’m the detective who was in charge of Lauren Carter’s homicide and I need your help… please?” and once again he flashed his expired LAPD badge. She nodded and told the cast to take a fifteen-minute break. “Is there somewhere private we could talk?”

  “Yes, we can talk in my office.” She led the way and he dutifully followed, thinking how Lauren would have walked this corridor multiple times. Tom introduced himself and began the lengthy explanation of how he and Frances came to be in this situation and the ongoing predicament involving Gary Carter. Before Tom could relate his meeting in the courtroom with her cousins, she pre-empted him.

  “You need to meet with my cousins, especially Ricardo. He would help you in a heartbeat. He adored Lauren. Here,” she said. “First you need this,” and she handed him a drink. “Let’s drink to my dear friend Lauren… oh, how I miss her.”

  “To Lauren,” Tom raised his glass. “You know, two hours ago I had no idea that I would be talking to you. I was on my way to try and convince my ex-police colleagues to arrest Gary.”

  “Well, you don’t need to convince us to help. We need no persuasion to eliminate this cruel, obnoxious man.”

  “Eliminate is a strong word. If your cousins could just frighten him?”