Page 54 of Things We Do in the Dark
“You can take them,” Cherry says. “I can see she meant a lot to you.”
There’s a crackling sound in the quiet office as Drew peels off the plastic, carefully detaching the photos from their sticky backing. The tingling hasn’t stopped. Joey and Betty, so similar in appearance. One dead, the other missing, in the same damn weekend. Betty’s boyfriend, involved with the Blood Brothers at a time when the gang was at its most violent, most power hungry, seen hanging around the club on New Year’s Eve. And then a few hours later, Joey is dead, in a fire that was ruled an accident… but might not have been. After all, fires are a great way to destroy evidence.
What if Joey’s death wasn’t accidental? What if it was murder?
Betty Savage might know. But he can’t talk to her, because she’s missing. Or is she?
Drew gives his head a little shake.Nowwho’s the one with the dumb theory?
“What is it?” Cherry asks, catching it.
“Nothing.” He forces a smile and returns the album to her. “While I’m here, any chance you have old personnel files lying around? I wouldn’t mind tracking down this Betty. Since you mentioned she and Joey were good friends, I’m wondering if she can give me some insight into the last year of Joey’s life.”
“I used to keep files on all the girls with their performers’ licenses photocopied so I’d have them on hand during random inspections,” Cherry says. “But they were shredded years ago. You could try contacting the city. Dancers can’t legally work without a license, but without Betty’s real name, that would be a lot of licenses to sift through. There were a lot more dancers back in 1998.”
“Thanks for the tip, and I appreciate your time. Just wondering, though—” Drew hesitates. Cherry’s been helpful, and he doesn’t want to offend her. “Why didn’t you float your theory past the police back then? About Betty’s boyfriend maybe doing something to both her and Joey?”
Cherry lets out a bitter laugh. “What police? Nobody came around to ask me anything about either of them. And what was I going to do, march down to the nearest police station and volunteer my suspicions that a Vietnamese gang member killed one of them, or both? Last thing I needed was a target on my back.”
Drew nods. Of course that makes sense. The club owner is a shrewd lady, full of street smarts.
“My advice?” Cherry files the photo album back on the shelf. “Don’t go looking for Betty. She was bad news.”
CHAPTER SEVENTEEN
Ofcoursehe’s going to look for Betty.
It’s been a long time since Drew investigated something, and holy hell, he forgot how good it feels to chase down a story. The more he thinks about it, the more it feels like a real possibility that the basement fire was no accident. After all, Joey knew the chimney was in rough shape, because he and Simone had warned her about it after she moved in. The three of them never lit a fire, not once.
But didBettyknow about the chimney? If the girls were good friends, and she spent time with Joey in the apartment, she might have. It never did sit well with Drew that Joey made a fire that night. But what if she wasn’t the one who lit it? What if it was someone she was close to? Someone with a boyfriend who supplied her with drugs that she sold to the other girls at the club?
Murdering someone is a great reason to go “missing.”
Back at his condo, Drew puts in a call to the licensing office at the City of Toronto and explains his situation. He’s transferred to the records department, where he explains it all again, only to be put on hold for twenty minutes before the call simply disconnects. He then sends an email. Thirty minutes later, he receives a reply from an administrator at the licensing office, who tells him she can’t give out information about licenses unless they’re requested by the person themselves, or by an officer of the court. He scrolls through his contacts and puts in calls to threepolice officers he personally knows. Nobody picks up, so he leaves voice mails.
Investigative journalism is not nearly as sexy as it appears on TV.
Racking his brain, he googleshouse fire Toronto Acorn Street January 1 1999and gets hits for two articles mentioning the fire at his old place.
In the first article, the fire inspector explained that the blaze was caused by the fireplace in the basement, the chimney of which had not been cleaned or maintained in over a decade. It contained a buildup of creosote, a tar-like material that is highly combustible. The fire in the hearth caused the creosote to ignite in the chimney, which was full of cracks, allowing the fire to spread to the wall. It consumed the rest of the small basement apartment within minutes, leaving no time for the occupant, who was likely asleep at that time of night, to escape.
“The importance of regular chimney maintenance cannot be overstated,” the fire inspector is quoted as saying. “Unfortunately, I’ve seen this scenario too many times.”
The second article said more or less the same, only its headline was more dramatic:DAUGHTER OF RUBY REYES PERISHES IN NEW YEAR’S EVE HOUSE FIRE.The article was clearly written to titillate. Not only did it make a point to mention that Joelle Reyes, age 20, had been working as an exotic dancer at the Golden Cherry Gentlemen’s Club, it also spent a paragraph summarizing her mother’s crime, which means the reporter had managed to make the connection between Joey and Ruby. The article finishes with a brief quote from Police Constable Hannah McKinley, who confirmed that no foul play was suspected.
Drew remembers McKinley. She was kind to him that night. He googles her name and learns that she’s a detective now, a sergeant, in homicide. A couple more clicks and he has the email address for her department. He types quickly, explaining who he is and reminding her how they met. An hour later, McKinley phones. He’d forgotten she had a British accent until he hears her voice.
“This was a long time ago, so I’ll have to refresh my memory. Give me a second,” Sergeant McKinley says. Drew can hear her typing, and can only assume she’s at her desk at the station. “Right, I remember now. House fireon New Year’s Eve, one deceased, Joelle Reyes, daughter of Ruby Reyes. Victim ID provided by… Drew Malcolm. Oh, right, that’s you.”
“That’s me,” he says. “Can you tell me if there were photos taken at the scene?”
“I’m sure there would have been, by the insurance company, at least,” she says. “Would have happened the next day.”
“What about photos of the deceased?” An image of Joey’s burned face flashes through Drew’s mind. “Would there be pictures of that?”
“At the scene? Definitely not. The fire department would have prioritized removing her at the soonest possibility.”
Drew tries again. “What about the morgue? They’d have photos, right?”
