Part 20 (1/2)
”The test that will be used today is called a Zone Comparison Test. Are you ready for me to conduct the test?”
”Yeah, let's get on with it.” The bravado was back.
Sergeant Rothstein got up from his seat behind the desk and placed the pneumo tubes around Evan's upper chest and lower diaphragm to measure his breath, explaining their function as he went. ”Just breathe normally throughout the test. I will detect if you try to hold your breath, or anything unusual like that. This clamp goes on your fingertip to measure the tiniest changes in your perspiration.” Finally he pulled out the arm cuff of the sphygmomanometer aneroid gauge. ”This goes around your arm to register any cardiovascular changes.”
”It looks like a blood pressure thing,” Evan commented.
Rothstein sat back at the desk and looked over the polygraph instrument. ”Please sit perfectly still during the test: no finger movements, facial movements, moving your feet. Even if you are nervous, avoid clearing your throat, licking your lips and so on. Each test is only a few minutes long, so just stay still. Simply answer yes or no to each question, not, 'No, I didn't', or anything like that, and please wait until the entire question has been asked before answering.” Evan swallowed nervously.
”Try not to swallow, please,” Rothstein said. ”Okay, we will do eight tests today, four with regards to Susan Walker and four with regards to Petra Wallace. We will now begin the first test. Are you ready?”
”Yes.”
”Good. Is your first name Evan?”
”Yes.”
”Do you live in BC?”
”Yes.”
”Regarding any involvement you had with Susan Walker or Petra Wallace, do you intend to answer truthfully to each question about that?”
”Yes, I do.”
”Just answer yes or no to each question, okay?”
”Yes.”
”Regarding any involvement you had with Susan Walker, do you intend to answer truthfully to each question about that?”
”Yes.”
”Did you shoot Susan Walker...?”
Andy Flynn waited for Mak in the lobby of the Renaissance Hotel, mulling over Evan Rose's recent departure from the suspect list.
d.a.m.n.
Evan had wanted to be polygraph tested-no, he had insisted he be polygraphed. And the b.a.s.t.a.r.d had pa.s.sed.
He recalled Rothstein's words, ”Look, for all I know this guy could have knocked off twenty banks this month, but in my professional opinion, with regards to Susan Walker and Petra Wallace, he never laid a hand on them. He's not your man.”
Evan had pa.s.sed with flying colours. That meant the killer was still at large, and the case was far from being solved. And the students at UBC-including Makedde-could still be at risk. In spite of his mentor's warnings, Andy felt compelled to say something to her about it. He had to inform her of the danger.
They never really had any hard evidence on Evan Rose, but Bob was right, he had fit the profile and they had to check him out. That he was the brother of an RCMP officer working the murder case only complicated things. It was undoubtedly causing waves within the ranks already, and those who liked the Rose brothers could well become ambivalent towards the outside help that had been brought into their jurisdiction. In any case, Dr Harris and Andy were supposed to be heading back to Quantico in less than a week. The trouble was, Andy wanted to be sure that the killer was in custody before he left. He wanted to know that he wasn't leaving Mak in any possible danger. At this rate, it seemed unlikely.
Now he was meeting her for dinner and he had to decide how much he should tell her.
True to form, he chose to sit and wait at a spot farthest from the front desk, with his back to the wall and a thin veil of plastic ferns surrounding him. It was a good, protected position which afforded him views of the entire lobby. He remembered Makedde calling this spot in any given room the ”Clint Chair”-as in Dirty Harry's Clint Eastwood.
It was shortly after eight when she walked in.
His breath caught in his throat.
Oh, boy.
He couldn't have missed her. She was wearing a figure-hugging black dress and heels. She had a black coat slung over one arm and a small glittery purse in her hand. Understated elegance. With her looks she didn't need to play it up.
d.a.m.n she looks good.
Andy found himself looking down at his own clothes to check out what he was wearing. Black dress pants and charcoal-coloured dress s.h.i.+rt. No tie. That was still okay. At least he wasn't wearing a T-s.h.i.+rt. He didn't know she would be dressed so...well.
”Hi, Andy,” she said as she approached. She moved like a seasoned catwalker, but somehow didn't seem conscious of the fact that other people didn't walk that way. Did she have any idea how devastating she looked?
”Good evening,” he replied. ”You look lovely.”
”Thanks,” she said, and then all that model composure fell away. She shook her head and put a hand over her face. ”That was really embarra.s.sing the other night.”
”Forget about it. I could drink you under the table any day,” he said.
She offered a laugh that didn't seem all that relaxed. ”So, shall we?”
”Where are we going?” he asked. They had agreed on dinner, but she hadn't told him where.
”I'm taking you to Tojo's. It is the sus.h.i.+ joint in Vancouver. I was just thinking the other day that it had been way too long since I've been there. You like sus.h.i.+, don't you?”
d.a.m.n. Mak and her adventurous taste in food. Andy's chopstick mastery was not up to scratch, to say the least. He still ordered a knife and fork in his favourite Thai restaurant back home, and he vaguely remembered making an a.s.s of himself in front of Mak while grappling with something called Saang Choi Bao at a restaurant back in Sydney. That was a year ago. His skills had not improved since.
”I haven't had sus.h.i.+ for a while...” he said.
”Good. You'll enjoy it then. It's just over on West Broadway. Not too far.”
Oh, great.
The restaurant was on the second floor, and they took the stairs. She walked just ahead of him, and Andy did his best not to gawk at the movement of her rounded hips.
When they walked into Tojo's a few heads turned. Mostly to admire Makedde, Andy guessed. Some part of his ego puffed up, until he reminded himself of how ”over him” she had seemed just the other day. She was probably only being polite by agreeing to go out with him at all. But then again, she had worn that dress...
They pa.s.sed a busy sus.h.i.+ bar as they were taken to their seats. j.a.panese men with nimble fingers worked swiftly to create small delicacies with rice and seaweed. He recognised the raw tuna and salmon, but had a little difficulty identifying some items with tentacles and strange skin. The gla.s.s case was topped with the biggest wooden sus.h.i.+ boat he had ever seen, and it contained colourful morsels that hardly looked edible. He wondered if he would be able to tackle the dishes they ordered without making a fool of himself.
Right on cue, Mak waved to a moustached man working behind the bar. He had a round, friendly face. ”Hey, Tojo,” she said, and his face lit up.
He stopped and clasped his hands in front of him. ”Good to see you, Mak. It's been a while. Enjoy.”
The lighting was low and the restaurant was bustling with customers. Andy imagined it might be difficult to get a booking. He noticed a number of autographed actors' portraits and shots of famous bands framed on the walls in amongst the more traditional decor.
They were led to a booth in a quiet corner. Lucky for him, it wasn't traditional-style seating, so he could keep his shoes on. He wasn't sure if his socks were ready to impress.
”So, this is Tojo's,” she said when they had settled in.