Carolyn wouldn't even raise her eyes as she began weeping.
Hours later, in the police department's favorite bar, Pratt sat with Ellis and McDonnell. He really could have used some sleep, but the bourbon was going down very nicely.
“The thing I don't get is, you told Gordon you came up with the solution by looking at Facebook,” McDonnell said. “Everyone knows you can't stand computers, much less operate one.”
Pratt clapped Ellis on the back. “It was all with young David's help. And you know what? It wasn't hard at all. I've been wary of computers for no good reason, as it turns out.”
“But what did you see on Facebook?”
“Yeah,” Ellis chimed in. “I looked at all those pages too. There wasn't anything there that could have led you to Carolyn Tucci. Come on, Mervin,” he said, using Pratt's given name for the first time ever. “Spill the beans.”
“As I've told you before, David, you can't just look, you have to see.”
“Pratt!” said McDonnell. “As your superior officer, I order you to answer my question.”
Pratt turned to him. “The Rotten Attitude fan page on Facebook is moderatedâif that is the correct wordâby our Carolyn. Perhaps it's her ego, but her digital fingerprints are all over it.”
“Listen to you.” Ellis laughed. “Digital fingerprints, indeed!”
“So what was it you noticed?” McDonnell asked again.
“Simply that Carolyn reported we'd found that first knife a good half hour before we told the media. The date and time of the posting is right there for all to see. Equally telling, there were all her reports about how the band would carry on without its founder and chief songwriter. Master would finally have control of the bandâand she did it all for him. She was fawning all over him.”
Ellis shook his head, then swallowed the last of his beer. “You told her you knew about Thomson getting the shot at managing the band. Did you actually know that?”
“Sure. That's about the one useful thing Gordon did on this job. Say what you will about him, Gordon knows how to wring a confession out of someone.”
McDonnell motioned to the bartender for refills. They'd all regret this the next morning.
“Okay, Pratt, since you're so smart, who was the mastermind? The dead singer or Carolyn Tucci?”
“Based on what Sheriff Warsh told me, I'm pretty sure it was Master pulling the strings. But there's probably no way we'll ever find out. Warsh thinks Master was borderline psychotic. The scary thing was that he was near-genius in intelligence. We all know well those are the worst kind.”
Pratt took a sip of his new bourbon.
“Still, he may have met his match in Carolyn Tucci. Whether it was an extreme need for fame or whether she's psychotic too, we'll have to wait to find out. Anyway, knowing all about Master's past, it was a pretty good bet we'd believe he tried to kill her. It came close to working too. It nearly took me too long to realize there might be a second knife.”
“And you got Jamie off,” Ellis said. “I can't thank you enough. It's interesting⦔
“What is?” both older men asked.
“I listened to the
CD
of the band Carolyn gave me. I never really liked Jamie's kind of music, but I have to admit his songs are, well, pretty good. I found myself liking them. I should play it for you.”
McDonnell and Pratt looked at each other in horror.
“No, thanks,” Pratt said. “Don't make me regret what I've just done!”
The usual suspects (my wife Vicki and the indomitable Cheryl Freedman) again scanned my deathless prose, found it
not
deathless, but fortunately made suggestions that helped resuscitate every phrase to full health. Anything that's still wrong is my fault,
not
theirs! I was also aided in all things police-oriented by Brent Pilkey who knows about this sort of stuff, nuff said!
RICK BLECHTA has two passions in life: music and writing. A professional musician since age fourteen, he brings his extensive knowledge of that life to his crime fiction. He is the author of nine novels, one of which,
Cemetery of the Nameless
, was shortlisted for the Arthur Ellis Best Novel Award (2005).
The Boom Room
is his second title in the Rapid Reads series, following
Orchestrated
Murder
(2012). Rick lives, writes and performs in Toronto, Ontario. For more information, visit
www.rickblechta.com
.