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“How close were Nick and Robbie?”
Susan let out a shaky giggle and thrust back into her seat. The question erased her smile. She stared straight ahead, her brown eyes wide open and her lips vanishing as she sucked them inward. She circumvented the question deftly.
“Tim is his best friend at work.”
“What time did Nick leave yesterday?” Gibson asked, as if the last answer had satisfied him.
“The normal.”
“When would that be?”
“Around six.” She hesitated, twirling her wedding ring as she spoke, peering at the promise, ’til death do us part.’
The two detectives glanced at each other.
“Are you sure?”
“No. Like I said, one kid was sick. I was up most the night. Nick was gone by the time I woke up.” Her shoulders sagged. “Sorry.”
“Okay. We’ll be on our way,” Gibson said. He stood up to leave.
“Is that all?” Her bewildered expression cut sharp lines on her forehead.
“Yes. Thanks. You’ve been helpful.”
She pulled at her lifeless hair, eyes squeezing shut for a moment.
Scottie put her notebook in a top pocket, and they said their goodbyes. Before the hedge concealed their view, Gibson glanced back to the large bay window. Susan stood behind the sheer drapes scarcely visible. She seemed smaller than when they had first arrived.
“So, what do you think?” Gibson asked. “Nick said he left for work at six-thirty. A half an hour is a long time. Time enough to hit somebody over the head with a bat.”
Scottie shrugged.
“She looks worried about something. But about what is another question. Does she think that Nick has something to do with the murder?”
“We should talk to Nick again,” Scottie suggested. They leaped into the vehicle and sped to the university.
When they entered the maintenance yard, it looked deserted. Although there were a few cars in the parking lot, all the doors appeared locked. Gibson looked at his watch and realized the day had slipped away. A thundering noise broke the stillness. Nick rushed out the door and halted dead in his tracks.
“What are you doing here?”
“Looking for you,” Scottie snarled. “Checking your alibi.”
“Why?” Nick asked indignantly. “I didn’t do anything.”
Scottie pulled out her famous notebook and flipped the sheets. She stared at a page and then scrolled further. She stopped and tapped her pen at a spot on the paper. “You say six-thirty.” Then she flicked to the end of her notes. “Your wife says six. Who’s lying?” Susan had actually said she thought it was six. But no matter because Nick appeared to be nervous about the question of time. A bead of sweat had formed on his upper lip, and he stood with his feet close together, bouncing from heel to toe. Scottie looked toward the road, and then swung her gaze back to Nick.
“So, what time did you leave for work? Did you get here earlier than you’re saying and kill Robbie?”
“No.” Nick looked up in alarm.
“Did you see anybody on your way to work that could vouch for you?” Scottie asked. She scribbled in the notebook.
Nick squirmed, his eyes darting back and forth.
“What about Robbie’s wife? She’s always coming around the yard yelling and screaming about something,” he blurted out, seeking to turn the questioning away from him. He nodded his head in satisfaction. “She’s crazy enough to do anything. It gets violent.”
“Are you saying there was domestic violence?” Gibson tossed a covert glimpse to Scottie.
“Yeah. They’re always at odds. Even at our parties. Bickering and…” He paused mid-sentence and squared his shoulders. His feet wouldn’t stop bouncing.
“Could one of the other guys verify that?”
“I don’t know. Maybe they were breaking up,” he said, realizing maybe he had pushed it too far.
“Who else is here?” Gibson switched gears.
“Everybody’s gone for the day. Tim left early.” The clamour of a bolt slamming against the garage doors caused him to start. “Oh, I forgot about David. He’s on lockup duty this week.”
“We’ll talk again,” Gibson said.
Nick jogged toward the parking lot with his backpack bounding against his shoulder. Gibson watched as he threw the pack into the back seat and fired up the engine. Nick looked straight ahead as he drove past them, turned right and spun his tires to make a clean getaway. As a final squeal of rubber on asphalt faded, David darted out of the building. He issued a short yelp when he saw the detectives, not realizing anybody was there. He locked the door and rattled the knob to ensure it was secure.
“Did you visit Robbie’s friend Aaron?” David asked, rolling his neck. They could hear a distinct crack. He grinned.
“Not yet,” Gibson said. “Do you have time for a chat?”
David glanced at the vacant parking lot.
“I guess.” He flashed a smile. Small wrinkles appeared on the outer side of his eyes as he looked at the detectives. He made a decision to divulge all. So he told them; he told them everything he knew. He described Tim as a bully who made rude jokes, intimidated people by standing close and making inappropriate gestures. Tim’s favourite target was Robbie. He pestered and stalked him around the yard. He also tampered with Robbie’s belongings and equipment. But Sunday was the first quarrel that had become physical. David staggered back a step to lean against the wall and tilted his head into the structure. The two detectives remained still as they listened to this tale of bullying in the workplace.
“So, what was different?” Gibson asked, although he had a good idea.
“Well, it started when Tim called him Robin,” David faltered, maybe doubting giving it all up. But he was tired of keeping it all in, always fearful of the repercussions. And maybe it was Tim who had killed him. So he continued.
“Robbie was dressed as Robin from Batman.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “Anyway, he didn’t take it this time and
called Tim a homo.” David clenched his teeth as he went on. “Twink. Robbie screamed out Twink and then all hell broke loose.”
Gibson had seen this before. The victim eventually stands up for himself and it turns into a brawl.
“So I wasn’t lying. I don’t know if Robbie is gay or not.” He looked down at his boots and spread out his hands in surrender. “I really don’t know. He kept it to himself if he was. But like I told you before, his best friend would know.”
“Thanks.” Gibson squeezed his shoulder in appreciation and sympathy.
“Sure.” David shuffled his feet, his posture wilting. He walked away. Minutes later the jeep roared to life with a sputter and rattle. He waved to them as he pulled into the street, the exhaust rumbling loudly.
“It’s been a long day. Let’s go home,” Gibson said.
They settled in the truck and crawled across town. A growing number of vehicles swarmed around them as they inched their way closer to Brentwood Bay. He flopped back into his seat as Scottie took care of the rush hour traffic.
“I wonder if Ellen realizes how much bullying Robbie put up with at work,” he murmured.
A hint of a frown crossed Scottie’s face. She had been thinking the same thing.
“This bears all the classic traits of bullies in the workplace. The offensive jokes, the insults, the intimidation. I could go on and on,” Gibson continued with his argument. “We really need to take a closer look at Tim.”
Scottie didn’t comment. She thought the bully factor was there, but had it led to murder? No, she didn’t think so. But she let her partner ramble as much as he wanted to and turned up the volume on the radio. Gibson stared out the window. A few trees that still had foliage hanging on the tips of their branches were turning a golden hue. The rain-soaked leaves magnified the brilliance of the sun as it slunk lower in the sky. He realized Katherine hadn’t called all day. A tightness in his chest gripped him as his concern heightened. He reached into his back pocket, squirming in the seat to dig out his cell and dialed home, waiting patiently while it rang. After seven rings, he punched the hang-up button and clenched his fist into his mouth. She must be immersed in her studies for the final. He glanced skyward and emitted a long, slow breath.
