Page 7 of Death in the New Year

“Thanks, Barry.”

When they heard the door close, assuring them that Barry and Ruby were gone, they all turned toward Code.

“What the fuck was that about?” asked Ghost.

“Matilda Smith doesn’t exist,” said Code. “She was paid in cash through the church. Her last known address was the church’s address. Whoever she is, whoever she was, she wasn’t Matilda Smith.”

“Alright, find out who she was,” said Nine. “See if you can find something at the church, anything to tell us who that woman was and where she went. Maybe she had an axe to grind with Imelda.”

“I’ll do it,” said Code confidently.

He left the room, the others slowly rising as well. They knew what their job was and what needed to happen. A woman was dead, her daughter and husband left with no answers. They had to give them something, anything, to help them understand the senselessness of her death.

“Pork? Go with Code to the church. See what you can find in the records,” said Ghost. Pork nodded, following Code down the hallway. “Mac? You and Luc see what you can find on Imelda and anyone else who works at the church. Ask around the neighborhood and see what you can dig up. Someone had to have seen something.”

“Got it,” said Mac, standing to leave with Luc.

“Trak and I will head down to the church’s soup kitchen and see if we can help out at lunch. Maybe someone there can tell us something good.”

“Sounds like a plan,” said Ian. “Let’s hope it works.”

CHAPTER FIVE

“Thank you for letting us look at the records,” said Code, nodding at the Reverend.

“Of course. Anything to help, but I’m not sure you’ll find anything in there on Matilda. I promised that I wouldn’t pry about her real name or where she’d come from. When she arrived here, she was beaten pretty severely. She refused to go to a hospital and wanted to stay just a few days. We have three small emergency apartments upstairs. They’re not much,” he said, shaking his head, “but when you have nothing, they’re the Ritz.”

“I understand,” nodded Code.

“Do you believe her name was really Matilda Smith?” asked Pork. The Reverend took in a deep breath and shook his head.

“No. In fact, I know it wasn’t. She didn’t tell me her real name, just that it would be a good idea if I didn’t know. I convinced her that we had to come up with something. She said she liked the kids’ movie,Matilda, and that’s where we landed. We didn’t get very creative on the last name.”

“Smith is a fine last name,” smiled Pork. “You said she was beaten. Did she say anything about that?”

“No. Not a word. I brought out the first-aid kit and stitched two head wounds, reset a broken finger, and gave her some over-the-counter anti-inflammatories and pain meds. That’s all I had. She lay in that bed upstairs for weeks. Shirley or Imelda would go up and give her lunch, talk to her for a while, until she finally decided to come down one day.”

“Why do you think she suddenly came downstairs?” asked Pork.

“I’m not sure. Maybe she thought whoever was looking for her wasn’t going to show up after all. The more she came down, the more she wanted to help out. She was good with accounting, great at paying the bills, that sort of thing.”

“You trusted her with your funds?” frowned Code. The Reverend laughed, shaking his head.

“Yes, son. I trusted her. We don’t have a lot. Just enough to pay our bills, and that’s about it. Anything she would have taken would have barely covered a bus ticket, which I would have gladly given her anyway. And before you ask, nothing was missing when she disappeared.”

“Is her room being used now?” asked Code.

“No,” he said, shaking his head. “I’m ashamed to say it, but I haven’t even had time to clean it yet. It’s up the steps and the first one on the left.”

The two men nodded, taking the stairs to the second floor of the small church. As it turned out, the second floor was nothing more than an attic space that had been converted to storage rooms. Later, it appeared that someone added a toilet and sink, and there appeared to be a community shower in the hallway. Small window units were in place for air-conditioning and based on their power, they were just enough to keep the second-floor tenants from melting in the summer heat.

Code slowly opened the door and caught the faint smell of a woman’s perfume. It was barely there, but he knew a woman had been in the room. The bed was still unmade, even some of her clothes sitting on the floor.

“Looks like she left in a hurry,” said Pork.

“Yeah, but she did leave us something valuable,” he said, leaning over the pillow. He pulled a plastic bag from his pocket and, with a pair of tweezers, picked up three long brown hairs. He carefully put them in the bag and sealed it.

“I’ll be damned,” muttered Pork. “I’ll bag the clothes as well.”

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