Pity and a Shame

Chapter 22

Gwen stood by the kitchen table, arms crossed and a small crease between her brows. "I don't get it. Your problem's solved. The guy's dead, Carol. Our story can't be broken now."

Carol swallowed the water and set the glass down clutching it tightly. "What if they find some connection...?"

"How? What connection?" Gwen was beginning to get angry. "Think about me for a minute. I still have to get out of here before they connect him to me."

"That's what I mean," Carol wailed. "Your connection to him connects him to me. I can't- I- my family..."

"Jesus, woman! Gwen slapped her hand on the counter like a gunshot causing Carol to yelp and jump. "If you think about getting me out of here that can't happen!"

Carol was about to protest again when she saw the clock above the stove. "Oh god, I've got to get Wendy from school." She grabbed her purse and started for the door.

"Wait a minute!" Gwen pulled her by the arm. "Forget the kid, I'm the one you need to worry about."

"I can't leave her up there without a ride, she's only nine."

"Okay, that's it." Gwen dragged her back to the table. "Give me your purse."

"What? Why?" The question was chopped off by a mean slap across the cheek, and Carol cried out, slipping back off the chair.

"Just shut up and stay still." Gwen tore open the purse and took out all the money and credit cards. "Where are the car keys?"

"No! You can't take the car - my daughter. Take the money, take whatever you want just don't take the car. Please."

"And what, walk out of town?" Gwen tossed the purse down and grabbed Carol by the hair. "The keys. Now!"

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Brian sat across from Wegman who was gingerly feeling the new set of stitches Doc Butler had sewn into his scalp. He pushed the folder across the table and asked Wegman if they had any photos of Gwen Armitage or the woman that arrived just before the killing of Paynter.

"It's the same dame, trust me."

"Yeah, okay, but do you have any pictures of her?"

"Why?"

Brian made an annoyed sound and got up from the stool he was perched on. "Because there's a woman in town I haven't seen before and I'd like to check it out."

"Have a look through the victim's stuff, maybe he carried a photo of her." Wegman sucked the last drop out of the paper cup Doc had given him and crumpled it in his fist. "It would have been nice to question the guy."

"I was waiting for you. Last time I touched stuff I got shit."

"Last time we weren't partners." Wegman opened the paper bag with the stuff Doc had taken from the body and dumped it on the table. "No knife anyway." He pawed through the things, tossing Brian the wallet. The rental agreement is in the name of Michael Quire. That's probably him, sounds too strange for an alias. Ingersol is sending a wagon down for the body, they can formally identify it up there and compare the prints we sent them."

Brian pulled a dog-eared picture from inside the wallet and held it up to the light. "I think it's her! It's an old picture, but there is definitely a resemblance."

Wegman pointed, "What's that on the back?"

Brian turned it over and tilted it until he could make out the writing. "Faded pencil."

That's what it says, faded pencil?"

"No. That's what's on here." He shook his head. "For the something times... good times... Gwen. Gwen Armitage. It's her." He dropped the picture in front of Wegman and grabbed his jacket. "I think I'd better bring that woman in for a chat."

"Can you manage alone?"

"Thanks detective. Yes I think I can manage alone. Jesus."

Brian drove slowly down the main street, checking the windows of all the businesses and the cars around them as he went. He wondered why Carol Tzajke would pass the woman off as a cousin and why they were together in the first place. He thought about the clutter of facts he'd amassed and a plausible outline began to form in his mind.

Michael Quire was Carol's lover! The shack. The fact that he saw her driving up that road at night. It fit. Quire and the Armitage woman were also lovers—once. Armitage must have caught Quire with Carol... he thumped the steering wheel and shook his head. That's pure guesswork, not fact. Why were those two women together?

He turned the car around at the south road and started back through town, satisfied that the women weren't there, and sped up as he headed to the tiny subdivision north of town where the Tzajke's and a lot of other employees of Sarvak Engineering lived.

Carol's car roared out of the driveway and swerved past him as he made the turn onto the subdivision street. He could see that it was not Carol behind the wheel but Gwen Armitage – and she saw him as well. Brian did a U-turn skid on the pavement and burned rubber after the fleeing car.

Gwen wrestled with the wheel as she watched the police car spin around and begin pursuit. When she reached the highway, instead of heading north to Ingersol, she turned south and raced back into Split Oaks. Brian tilted around the corner on two wheels, surprised at the direction, and began leaning on his horn as he chased along behind.

Gwen hit the brakes and slewed into the soft shoulder, barely making the turn onto the north road in a cloud of dusty gravel. Brian followed with similar results, fighting the steering as the car rocked from side to side. He kept his hand on the horn hoping to alert Jenny at the school; it was quitting time and the kids would be out front awaiting their rides.

Gwen flew past the school with a roar, hauling the wheel into the sudden turn south. The tires slid into the soft gravel and she cried out as the car took control from her hands. Her foot slipped off the gas and under the brake, twisting painfully.

Brian rounded the curve and jerked his foot from the gas. He caught a glimpse of Jenny herding the children back toward the school. Ahead he could see Carol's car skidding sideways down the shoulder of the road and smashing through the wooden gate at the end of Paynter Gough's drive.

One tire blew and the car veered to the right, swinging the rear around into the other side of the gate, knocking the wooden posts flying. Gwen gripped the wheel for dear life and managed to aim the car up the drive but unable to slow down; her foot was still stuck under the brake pedal.

Brian pulled into the drive and stopped, climbing out of the car to watch the end of Gwen's ride. The car bucked and bounced crazily over the ruts then seemed to stop dead, the rear rising slightly then dropping back to the ground. A loud burst of steam swirled up from the front and the horn chirped a feeble beep.

Brian ran up the drive and around to the driver's door. Gwen lay across the front seat, one hand against her face. The front of the car had impaled itself on one of Paynter's discarded farm implements; the spikes of an old harrow were buried deep into the grill. He forced open the door and leaned in, hauling the woman out and leaning her against the side of the car.

"Can you hear me?" He asked, tilting her head up. She focused slowly and nodded, touching the puffy bruise that was rising on her forehead. "I'll get you up to the doctor's but I have to tell you that you are under arrest for suspicion of the murders of Paynter Gough and Montgomery Hazelford, as well as immigration fraud, car theft and this," he pointed to the general area, "resisting arrest."

Gwen closed her eyes and let her head sink to her chest before looking up and nodding again.