"Lacuna" 3rd novel in the Adam Garwood series.
Lately, the bench had become my home; I’d been spending a great deal of time sitting on it. Positioned on McGill College Avenue, amongst the shops and the bustle of Montreal, the bench provided a wonderful view of Mount Royal. I felt that if the mountain was in sight, the visual impression might ignite a mental trigger to all this absurdity. Over the last couple of days, I have been wandering needlessly in search of answers. The beginning, leading up to the end; events unfolding within that space… that in-between, middle or gap. It might be expressed in hours: days, months or perhaps even years. Beginnings are just that, the beginning or start. They are rather pure, not influenced, but will eventually develop. As for endings, they are the product of actual events that have taken place within that gap of time, or better called Lacuna. And from a private investigator’s point of view, all this is translated into clues, uncovered within a certain time frame, unfolding evidence which will lead us to a verdict.
It must have been hard for Marc to call me. I had become accustomed to the fact that when I received a call from him or the precinct; it would be bad news. I had hoped for a better outcome but as fate would have it; it was over. And now, thinking back, I should have seen the signs. Who was to know what was going on in her mind? I guess they’d have no choice now, but to believe her. Death was her validation, her virtue, her truth.
In response to Marc`s call, I hurried and met him on the mountain. It was kind of ironic knowing that was the place Joey and I had spent so many afternoons. We were always in search of new evidence. We were continuously looking for answers; but now Marc had been informed that some joggers had found a body lying by the tall oak tree to the west of Beaver Lake. It was a desolate area, just dark enough to delay finding her. Upon arrival, he realized that she had been dead for some time, perhaps overnight or longer. Beside her lifeless body was a syringe, obviously an overdose! He would not let the forensic team touch or remove the body until I had arrived at the scene. The mere sight of her caused my knees to buckle. I wanted to hold her and take her pain away. I realized her suffering, and how alone she must have felt. I couldn’t help but feel that I had failed her.
Looking closer I saw the briefcase. It was open but its contents were gone, and only a few papers, damp from the night air, were scattered on the ground. It was obvious that some drifters had noticed the body and started searching for valuables. We will never know if they were successful or not. I wanted to gather up the papers but knew that this crime scene was off limits. Marc would have to clear it with homicide to verify that the cause of death was indeed a suicide. All evidence would be brought back to the precinct for later examination. I’d have to wait.
And now as I sit on this bench, feeling betrayed and knowing that once again, I had been taken for a fool; I questioned my career choice. Richard would laugh and tell me how he had warned me about Joey, but as usual I would not listen to reason.
I now, more than ever, had succumbed to the fact regarding just how mad at the situation she must have been; but, never once, did I feel she would act on it. If only, she had waited; we were almost there for she could not see the end clearly. Her need for immediate gratification was propelled by her anxious behavior or today’s label, anxiety. Revenge was all that she thought about!
I later was informed that there was another crime scene. Marc would not let me near it. He firmly stressed that it was police business. All he could say was that he could not understand how she could have performed this deadly deed without help. For when they entered the house, and found the bodies; it was as if Satan himself, had been there. It was one of most gruesome crime scenes Marc had ever witnessed.