Ear-Witness Page 2

  “How?” I whispered. “How did he die?”

  “If I tell you that, I’ll get in hot poop.”

  “I didn’t hear a gun or anything.”

  Sheena moved one hand from the steering wheel, clutched an imaginary knife and plunged it into her chest. “I didn’t tell you nothing,” she said.

  We rode the rest of the way in silence.

  CHAPTER 2

  At the police station, which was up near College Street, Sheena took me into a stuffy little interview room to meet Bud, the cop in charge of the murder investigation. He had to be over thirty, but with his bulging muscles and thousand-watt smile, he looked just like a Ken doll.

  He pointed to where he wanted me to sit. “I’m the lucky guy who’ll be asking the questions,” he said. “Sheena here will take notes.” Then he flashed his teeth and pulled up a chair. “So, Jessica ...”

  Talking to Sheena was easy, but being in this place, with this man, made me nervous. Like, what are you supposed to say when a cop says So?

  “Uh, it’s Jess,” I said. “Everywhere but school, I’m Jess.”

  “So, uh, Jess. You live in the same building as the Birds, right?”

  “Right.” I flashed some teeth too, just for practice.

  “Where in relation to their apartment?”

  “The next floor up. Right on top of them,” I said.

  “Who lives there? You, your parents? Anybody else? Sisters, brothers?”

  I sat up straight in my chair. “Just me and my mom,” I said.

  “No dad?”

  I stretched my legs out in front of me and admired my boots.

  “Nope.”

  “So where is he?” Bud asked. There was something weird about his face but it took me a minute to figure out what it was. He was smiling, but only from the mouth down.

  “Gone,” I said. “I thought I was here to tell you stuff about the Birds.”

  “Just answer the question, please, Jessica.”

  Now he wasn’t smiling at all. His mouth was a grim slit in the bottom of his face, and his voice had an edge to it, like Mom’s does when she’s really mad.

  “He doesn’t live with us. I already I told you that.” This guy wasn’t cute at all. He was mean-looking, with a personality to match.

  “When did he leave, Jessica? Last year? Last month? Last week? Yesterday?”

  He was really ticked off now, but I was pretty irritated myself, and I could sound just as rude. “He left when I was nine.” I said.

  Buddy-boy didn’t miss a beat. “I guess your mom has a boyfriend, eh? Does he live with you? Nice-looking woman like that, I bet she’s got men crawling all over her.”

  The man was a pig. I stared through him to Sheena, who was sitting just behind him, but off to one side, where he couldn’t see her without turning around. She made a pistol with her fingers and pointed it at Bud’s head.

  “Just Mom and me,” I said, as sweetly as I could. “Didn’t I tell you that already?” I wasn’t really lying, not much. Enough to cause a heap of trouble, but I didn’t know that yet.

  “Tell me about the Birds,” he said, all charm again. “How well do you know them?”

  “Pretty well. I look after the baby two or three times a week. Sometimes I talk to Tammi.”

  “And Mr. Bird?”

  “He’s OK, I guess. Was OK.”

  “You didn’t like him?”

  I couldn’t stand him. Ray had sneaky eyes, and he was bad-tempered and sarcastic, but I didn’t want to cut up somebody who was dead. “We hardly ever talked,” I said. “Except when he paid me.”

  “And you babysat last night?”

  “Yeah.”

  “From when to when? Be as exact as you can.”

  “I went downstairs at quarter to seven and came back up at about ten-fifteen.”

  Even when he was asking questions, Bud was staring at the ceiling, like he couldn’t stand the way I looked, or I was boring him silly. “Were both Mr. and Mrs. Bird there at quarter to seven?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Where were they going?”

  “Tammi went to bingo I guess Ray went to work

  “Where’s that?”

  “Some bar on Queen Street. I don’t know the name of it, but I don’t think it’s a very nice place. My mom says it’s a sleaze joint.”

  He nodded. His eyes were closed now. “They come home together?”

  “No, they never do, never did. Ray worked late. Tammi came home, then I left.”

  “I understand from your mother that you were alone last night, while she was working. Right?”

  Now he was drumming his fingers on his leg, like he’d rather be somewhere else. I could relate to that.

  “Right,” I said.

  “Where does she work?”

  “Queen Street Mental Health Centre. She’s a nurse.”

  He looked a little bit interested at that. Well, maybe not interested exactly, but his mouth sort of flattened out when I said it.

  “Did you see or hear anything unusual last night?” he asked.

  “Well, I hear fighting all the time, but ...”

  Suddenly I had his full attention. His eyes bored into mine, like we were in some sort of staring contest. “Physical stuff or just words?” he said.

  “Both, I guess. Last night was different, though. It was two guys. There was a lot of yelling, and then somebody fell down, or fell into the wall or something.”

  “Did you recognize any voices?”

  “Well, one was Ray, that’s for sure. I hear him, uh, heard him all the time. Roaring all over the place. I don’t know who the other one was.”

  “Could you hear what they said? Think carefully now, Jess, this could be extremely important.”

  I thought as hard as I could, but nothing came. “They woke me up,” I said. “Several times, I guess. But I didn’t hear words, just, you know, loud voices.” I paused, because I was still trying to remember. “For some reason, I think they were fighting about money. I don’t know why I think that.”

  “Could there have been more than two people?”

  “Tammi was there too. And the baby,” I added.

  “What time was this?”

  I shrugged. “Once was just after two. That’s probably the only time I checked the clock.”

  “Did you hear anything else? Other than two men arguing and someone falling down?”

  “After that, I heard Tammi. She was crying for a really long time. Sort of talking and crying, crying and talking.” This eye contact stuff was killing me, but if I didn’t do it, or at least try to do it, I was afraid he’d think I was lying.

  “Any idea who she was talking to?”

  I shrugged again. “Sorry,” I said.

  “You didn’t hear anything or couldn’t tell who it was?”

  “I didn’t hear. Maybe she was talking to herself. Or to the baby.”

  He nodded. “You said you heard fighting all the time. What kind of fighting?”

  “Just... Tammi and Ray. That’s the way they were.”

  “You need to be more explicit than that, Jessica. Tell me what you heard.”

  “Mostly words, yelling. Once I saw her with a black eye.” I paused. “He was pretty mean, even in front of me.”

  “Can you give me an example?”

  This was really hard work, and I didn’t like it. Snitching isn’t my style. I tried looking at the ceiling too, but it didn’t have any answers. And Bud was waiting, drumming those fingers. I sighed. “Ray would say stuff like Shut your bloody trap or I’ll shut it for you. Or, I don’t know, make fun of her, like he knew everything, and she knew nothing. He was always telling her how stupid she was.”

  “What a creep,” Sheena said.

  Bud flashed his eyes at her. The message they sent was unmistakable. It was shut up. He turned to me.

  “Did Mrs. Bird ever say anything to you about their relationship?”

  I thought about that. “Once she did. We were out on the bac
k stairs, it must have been last fall, because she was already looking really pregnant. We were just sitting there in the sun when all of a sudden she starts crying. Then she said that Ray used to be really nice to her, but when she got big, with the baby, he changed.”

  Sheena looked directly at me, shook her head and pointed her thumb towards the floor.

  “Anything else you can tell us?” Bud said. “Anything you saw or heard that seems unusual?”

  I thought some more. “There’s the money,” I said. “Ray always has ... had, a whole lot of money.”

  “How much is a lot? A couple of hundred?”

  Did this guy think I was a kid or what? “More than that,” I explained. “He had this big wad with a gold dollar-sign clip on it. Hundreds and fifties. Lots of them. Like maybe thirty hundreds, and at least that many fifties. He always had money like that. Once he showed me a thousand dollar bill.”

  Bud glanced quickly at Sheena, who bent her mouth down at both ends, and nodded.

  “The Birds have many visitors?” he said.

  “Nope.”

  “People dropping around? Coming to the door?”

  “No.” I knew what he was thinking, that Ray was a drug dealer. If he was, he didn’t do it from home.

  “Ever smell grass there, or hash?”

  “No. Never.”

  “You know what they smell like?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Nice girl like you knows that?”

  “You’d have to be pretty dumb to be in high school and not know that,” I said. “Not that I ever...”

  “Ever see any white powder lying around?”

  I shook my head.

  “OK, Jess. Thanks,” he said. “This has been very helpful. Uh, sorry if I made you mad earlier. Guess you don’t like talking about your old man, eh?” He flashed his fake smile.

  I smiled too, but just a little, to make him think I had no hard feelings.

  “Sheena here will type up your statement, so you can sign it,” he said.

  Sheena’s mouth moved sideways on her face. “Just give Sheena-here a few minutes, then she’ll drive you home.”

  Toronto is an enormous city. The very rich live in mansions on quiet streets, or in elegant condominiums overlooking the lake. The less rich own single-family homes with one or two cars in the driveway. The rest of us rent; houses, townhouses, apartments, whatever we can afford. Mom and I live on the top floor of a hundred-year-old triplex. Our car, a ten-year-old clunker, gets parked on the street.

  When Sheena and I rolled down Telrose Avenue in the big cruiser, three other cop cars and a police van were pulled up on the sidewalk in front of a No Parking sign. Small groups of neighbours stood around in clusters, chatting and watching the show. Ronny Roach and two of his buddies were among them, sharing what was probably a cigarette. For the second time that day I was aware of unfriendly eyes.

  “See ya,” Sheena said. She watched me get out and start across the street. Then she took off towards the only cruiser with someone still in it. A guy in a uniform sat in the driver’s seat with the door open. When he saw her coming, he swung his legs to the ground and stood up and stretched, like he’d been sitting a long time. A police radio crackled with static. Somebody turned it off. The silence was deafening.

  Mom, Mrs. Orellana, and the Orellana kids were hanging out on the porch. The grassy area in front, which Mom laughingly called the lawn, was surrounded by waist-high yellow tape. Inside the roped-off area, two cops were crawling around on their knees, saving bits of garbage in small plastic bags.

  I perched on the steps just below Mom. I hadn’t seen her since I left for school, but it seemed like a week. I had this overwhelming urge to throw my arms around her neck, but I didn’t. “Where’s Tammi?” I said.

  “Gone to her friend’s place.” Mom rubbed my shoulders for a second. I leaned back on her legs. It’s spooky sometimes, how we almost read each other’s minds.

  “Why aren’t you sleeping?” I asked. Then I looked around at all the activity going on. “Too noisy?”

  “I don’t have to work tonight,” she said. “I traded shifts. Jess, you know Mrs. Orellana. And Flavia, and Carlos.”

  We all smiled. The Orellanas were new. They’d been living in the ground floor apartment, the one underneath the Birds, for about three weeks now. Even though the kids are more or less my age, we hadn’t said more than Hi. They’re refugees, from some place in Central America. I felt shy around them for some reason, and although they spoke really good English, I never knew what to say. Usually when you meet new kids you can ask them stuff about where they were before, like what school they were at, or what city they lived in. But when people have had to leave their country, I figured they might not want to talk about it. And maybe they’d think I was ignorant if I asked.

  The girl, Flavia, had awesome olive skin and long straight hair tucked behind her ears. She looked older up close; she could easily be seventeen. Carlos was probably about my age. He was chunky, with big muscular shoulders and arms. His hair, pulled back into an elastic, was long too. Mrs. Orellana was an older version of Flavia. She and Mom looked kind of nice, sitting there side by side. Both skinny, with their dark hair done up in a knot. Both really attractive women.

  “What did the police want?” Mom asked.

  I looked into her eyes. “I guess I heard the murder happen,” I said. “They wanted me to tell them everything, stuff I didn’t even know.” Then I turned to Flavia. “Did you hear anything?”

  Her eyes swung to the police all around us, then she looked at her mother and said something in Spanish. Mrs. Orellana shook her head. “No,” Flavia said.

  Sheena came up the walk and I introduced her to everybody. She nodded, touched me on the head, and went inside.

  “Is he still in there?” I said. “Ray?” I hadn’t wanted to ask, but I had to know.

  “No,” Mom said. “They took the body away around noon. How was your book report?”

  The body. I’ve never seen anybody dead, and that’s just fine with me. I looked down at the step I was sitting on, and imagined Ray climbing it last night. A one-way trip. Unless you count being carried out.

  “The book report, Jess. How was it? Did you survive?”

  “Yeah, sure.” I said. “It was a piece of cake.”

  Flavia and Carlos looked at me and frowned.

  “What’s going on?” I asked. “Did I say something stupid?”

  “No,” Mom said. Then she laughed. “But a book report isn’t really a piece of cake.”

  “You know what I mean,” I said.

  “But the Orellanas don’t.”

  Flavia said something to Carlos in Spanish, then turned to me. “Sayings like that are very difficult when you do not grow up with the English,” she said. “A piece of cake, what does that mean? Used the way you said it.”

  I started to explain. “I had to read a book report in front of the class this morning,” I said, “and I had my underwear in a knot about it..”

  They laughed, and so did Mom, but I didn’t get the feeling they were being mean. Carlos whispered something to Flavia, who elbowed him sharply in the ribs. “Animal!” she said. “Men are such animals!” She turned back to him. “I will tie yours in a knot if you do,” she said.

  “I did it again, didn’t I?” I said. “Underwear in a knot. That means I was very stressed out. You know stressed?”

  Flavia nodded. “Piece of cake?” she said.

  I turned to Mom for help. She looked up at the sky. “Piece of cake.” She thought for a moment. “You say that when something’s easy and pleasant to do. Like eating cake.”

  We all looked at the sky now. It was deep blue and cloudless. Sheena came out and sat with us. She looked up too. “Nice,” she said.

  If Mom hadn’t been with me, I would never have gone back inside that door and up those stairs. The worst part was passing Tammi and Ray’s apartment. I couldn’t stop thinking that there was still something horrible in there: the m
urderer, maybe; or the dead body, even though I knew both were gone. Well, I knew the body was gone because Mom told me it was. And the murderer had to be gone, because if he was still there, the cops would have caught him. Unless he came back later, to revisit the scene of the crime, like some murderers are supposed to do.

  Ray could have come back too, if he turned into a ghost. Fortunately I stopped believing in stuff like that years ago. Even when I was alone in the middle of the night, and the wind was howling and the whole building creaked, I was still pretty sure there weren’t any. Almost sure.

  CHAPTER 3

  After dinner (spaghetti and home-made vegetarian tomato sauce, my specialty) the three of us: Mom, me, and Raffi, Mom’s boyfriend, were sitting around in our big front room telling lies.

  My lie was hiding how scared I was. If Ray could get murdered, we could get murdered too. Maybe Mom knew how I felt, and maybe she didn’t, but I wasn’t giving anything away.

  Mom and Raffi were carrying on as if having somebody killed in the apartment right under us happened every day, like it was nothing. This was for my benefit, of course, so I wouldn’t get in a big flap. The big flap I was already in, which they didn’t know about. Maybe.

  They were both really worried too. I could tell, because the things they were saying were so totally fake. For instance, Raffi said Ray must have been killed because of some private dispute, so we didn’t have anything to worry about. I wish! How did anybody know what kind of dispute it was? There could be a serial murderer on the loose for all we knew. The thing Mom kept harping on about was how Tammi wasn’t killed too. No kidding! That makes the rest of us safe? I didn’t believe anything either one of them said. The funny thing was, I don’t think they believed what they were saying either.

  Mom was sitting on the couch, drinking a little cup of strong coffee. Raffi was clearing up the dishes. I was still at the table, but I’d pushed my chair back and turned it so I could see them both. The reason I could do that is because we have one of those all-purpose rooms, with the kitchen along the back, the dining room in the middle and the living room up front, by the window. Because we’re on the top floor, the ceiling slants down to meet the walls, which makes us feel sort of cozy, unless its summer, when the whole place turns into an oven.