when the kid got
back.'
'What do you mean, could have?'
'He said he was in a bar and didn't
get home until after the mother. But nobody could remember seeing him in the
bar he claimed to be in. And this is still a small town where a lot people know
each other. Especially people who go to the same bar all the time.'
'So, on that basis, you assumed it
was him. He’s either in the bar drinking or he’s killing his son. No other
options.'
Faulkner ignored the comment. 'It
wasn’t just that, but then he disappeared himself. Given the complete lack of
any other evidence pointing elsewhere, we reckoned it was the most likely
explanation.'
The more he talked to Faulkner, the
more it seemed to Evan that they hadn’t looked very hard for an alternative
explanation.
'Convenient.'
Faulkner glared at him. 'Convenient
my ass. Suddenly we've got two missing bodies and a new prime suspect who happens
to be one of those missing bodies. We'd have preferred it if it was the local
pervert.'
'That can't have gone down very well
with Linda Clayton.'
'You can say that again. I think
it's fair to say she was adamant there was no way on God's green earth that her
dear husband could have been involved in their son's disappearance. It rather
soured relationships between us.'
'I can see that it would. No doubt
made worse by the fact that you promptly gave up on any other avenues you might
have been pursuing.'
'You've got a nerve. If you put on a
wig and a dress, I'd swear you were her come to give me a hard time.'
Evan held up his hands. 'Sorry, I
didn't mean it to sound like I'm judging you.'
Faulkner didn't look particularly
appeased and went and got another beer. Evan declined the offer.
'This is more like it, eh? Living up
to stereotypes.' Faulkner said, taking a pull. 'Sorry, sad old cop drinking
beer in his trailer, haunted by unsolved cases. But as I remember the story,
the next thing you know, the sad old cop gets the bit between his teeth again
and gets back out there and solves it.' He shook his head. 'I'm sorry, but it's
not going to happen this time, son.'
'What about before the father
disappeared?' Evan asked. Just because Faulkner had made up his mind, it didn't
mean he had to agree with him. Linda Clayton didn't.
'What about it? A load of dead ends
and time wasters. A whole bunch of people saw a "suspicious-looking"
pickup truck' - he did the quotes thing with his fingers - 'some other people
saw a suspicious-looking camper van and half the town saw a suspicious-looking
dark sedan cruising around that afternoon.’ He gave a short, humorless laugh. ‘They're
always dark sedans. Like a white sedan is always driven by the good
guys. And what the hell is a suspicious-looking vehicle for Christ's sake? One
with some legs sticking out the window? I think at least one “witness” even saw
Elvis that afternoon!'
Evan laughed. 'I suppose it brings
all the cranks out of the woodwork.'
'You have no idea, and it’s not just
the cranks. People have an argument with their neighbor and call us up and say
they saw body parts in their trash just to get them back.' It appeared Evan had
set Faulkner off on a favorite diatribe. 'Some of the guys in the bar who
didn't remember seeing Robbie Clayton were helpful enough to remember seeing
all manner of other people. Suspicious-looking people of course. People with
shifty eyes, that sort of thing. The barroom wisdom was really running high
that day. In fact I think that's where Elvis was spotted, having a beer with
Hank Williams.'
Evan smiled and waited for him to go
on but he seemed to have run out of steam. 'And...' he prompted.
'And nothing. Absolutely zip. Nada.'
'Who else did you look at? What
about the bus driver?'
Faulkner gave him a long-suffering
look. A God-give-me-strength look. He shook his head wearily
'If you find me a ten year old phone
directory, I guarantee we talked to most of the people in it. Even though...'
Evan started to interrupt but Faulkner held up a hand
back.'
'What do you mean, could have?'
'He said he was in a bar and didn't
get home until after the mother. But nobody could remember seeing him in the
bar he claimed to be in. And this is still a small town where a lot people know
each other. Especially people who go to the same bar all the time.'
'So, on that basis, you assumed it
was him. He’s either in the bar drinking or he’s killing his son. No other
options.'
Faulkner ignored the comment. 'It
wasn’t just that, but then he disappeared himself. Given the complete lack of
any other evidence pointing elsewhere, we reckoned it was the most likely
explanation.'
The more he talked to Faulkner, the
more it seemed to Evan that they hadn’t looked very hard for an alternative
explanation.
'Convenient.'
Faulkner glared at him. 'Convenient
my ass. Suddenly we've got two missing bodies and a new prime suspect who happens
to be one of those missing bodies. We'd have preferred it if it was the local
pervert.'
'That can't have gone down very well
with Linda Clayton.'
'You can say that again. I think
it's fair to say she was adamant there was no way on God's green earth that her
dear husband could have been involved in their son's disappearance. It rather
soured relationships between us.'
'I can see that it would. No doubt
made worse by the fact that you promptly gave up on any other avenues you might
have been pursuing.'
'You've got a nerve. If you put on a
wig and a dress, I'd swear you were her come to give me a hard time.'
Evan held up his hands. 'Sorry, I
didn't mean it to sound like I'm judging you.'
Faulkner didn't look particularly
appeased and went and got another beer. Evan declined the offer.
'This is more like it, eh? Living up
to stereotypes.' Faulkner said, taking a pull. 'Sorry, sad old cop drinking
beer in his trailer, haunted by unsolved cases. But as I remember the story,
the next thing you know, the sad old cop gets the bit between his teeth again
and gets back out there and solves it.' He shook his head. 'I'm sorry, but it's
not going to happen this time, son.'
'What about before the father
disappeared?' Evan asked. Just because Faulkner had made up his mind, it didn't
mean he had to agree with him. Linda Clayton didn't.
'What about it? A load of dead ends
and time wasters. A whole bunch of people saw a "suspicious-looking"
pickup truck' - he did the quotes thing with his fingers - 'some other people
saw a suspicious-looking camper van and half the town saw a suspicious-looking
dark sedan cruising around that afternoon.’ He gave a short, humorless laugh. ‘They're
always dark sedans. Like a white sedan is always driven by the good
guys. And what the hell is a suspicious-looking vehicle for Christ's sake? One
with some legs sticking out the window? I think at least one “witness” even saw
Elvis that afternoon!'
Evan laughed. 'I suppose it brings
all the cranks out of the woodwork.'
'You have no idea, and it’s not just
the cranks. People have an argument with their neighbor and call us up and say
they saw body parts in their trash just to get them back.' It appeared Evan had
set Faulkner off on a favorite diatribe. 'Some of the guys in the bar who
didn't remember seeing Robbie Clayton were helpful enough to remember seeing
all manner of other people. Suspicious-looking people of course. People with
shifty eyes, that sort of thing. The barroom wisdom was really running high
that day. In fact I think that's where Elvis was spotted, having a beer with
Hank Williams.'
Evan smiled and waited for him to go
on but he seemed to have run out of steam. 'And...' he prompted.
'And nothing. Absolutely zip. Nada.'
'Who else did you look at? What
about the bus driver?'
Faulkner gave him a long-suffering
look. A God-give-me-strength look. He shook his head wearily
'If you find me a ten year old phone
directory, I guarantee we talked to most of the people in it. Even though...'
Evan started to interrupt but Faulkner held up a hand
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