Chapter 6
The sun was beating down from a sky devoid of clouds, the heat trickling like warm honey beneath my formal clothing. For the occasion I’d doffed my usual casual attire in favour of shirt, tie and black suit. Most funerals I’ve ever attended have been dour events conducted under leaden skies, and it felt unusual to feel the sunlight dance on my face. To banish the unfamiliar sensation I kept my head tilted down, but that was more befitting the ceremony at any rate.
I was like a brother to Rink, as I’ve said, and by virtue of that relationship a second son to Yukiko and Andrew Rington, and I’d been allotted a place at the graveside. Rink was supporting his mom under the protective arch of his arm, while I stood to her other side. I felt a little awkward standing there in my stiff new suit and could have done with someone else to hold on to. Ordinarily my girlfriend, Imogen, would have been beside me, but not now. In the past few months we’d kind of drifted apart, the spells when we didn’t see each other, or even speak on the phone, growing longer. I’d told her about Andrew’s murder, and she’d been saddened, but hadn’t offered to join me at the funeral. I took that as her way of cutting me adrift. It had been coming, and my skipping off to the other side of the continent was as good an excuse as any. Partly I was happy she was moving on, partly I was disappointed that our relationship had come to an end. It was a depressing fact that we’d got together due to a violent death and now we had parted because of another.
There were few other mourners. Not that Andrew wasn’t well liked or that he had no friends, but that had been a thing of the past. Most of his contemporaries were now in graves of their own; it’s a sad reflection that the longer one lives the fewer people there are to mourn your passing.
The vicar presided, saying a prayer. Having helped us to lower the coffin, the four pallbearers supplied by the undertaker service stood back from the grave. Opposite us were two elderly ladies, friends of Yukiko, and three old guys who were passing acquaintances of Andrew. Behind us stood two more mourners. A thin old man with watery grey eyes and an aquiline nose who had introduced himself as Lawrence Parnell, and another heavyset old man with a bald head mottled by fine scars, called Rodney Faulks, were Andrew’s only genuine friends in attendance. I’d noticed Yukiko share nods with both men, before she’d frowned then searched the graveyard for someone else. When the missing person didn’t appear her expression had altered from grief to one of mild concern. But now, as the vicar made the sign of the cross over the coffin to a soft chorus of amen from the mourners, I saw that her attention had returned fully to her beloved husband’s interment.
The cemetery was on a sloping hill, encircled by a stone retaining wall and towering eucalyptus trees. Between the trees stretched a view of the Golden Gate Bridge, the blue waters of the bay and the rolling hills of the US mainland beyond. It was a picture-perfect view but held no interest for me. Though I had my head tilted in respect, I was peering from under my brows, watching. I didn’t doubt that there could be plain-clothed police officers out there somewhere, because it was standard practice at funerals of murder victims. Occasionally a killer liked to turn up at a funeral, mingle with the mourners and take perverted satisfaction from the grief they’d caused. Over the top of rows of headstones I didn’t see anyone suspicious, but then I didn’t have a full field of vision.
A small bowl holding earth was passed around. Yukiko was first to sprinkle dust on the coffin, as well as casting in a single lily she’d brought for just that purpose. Rink followed, then I took a pinch of dust and did the same. Once we had finished we moved away, with Rink still cradling his mom, and it was my first opportunity to scan the space beyond the Spanish Revival-styled rostrum and up towards the entrance drive where we’d left the funeral cars. A couple of people were up there, but they could have been visitors to other graves showing us a few minutes’ respect by keeping their distance. We headed that way and as we approached the couple moved deeper into the cemetery. They were a middle-aged couple carrying a wreath and of no concern. Something else caught my eye though. A large saloon car stood idling on the road outside the front gate. Even from this distance I could make out the silhouette of a head turned our way, but nothing of the features.The last thing anyone wanted was violence at a funeral, but I wondered if this was Andrew’s killer. More than anything I wanted to slip away from Rink and Yukiko, and go over there and check. But I didn’t; for all I knew it was a cop scoping us out. I just lifted my head and stared at him. A hand came out of the front passenger window. I didn’t flinch; it was empty, I could tell. The hand furled into a fist and knocked a short rhythm against the door. Then the engine roared and the saloon car peeled away from the entrance and took off at speed.
‘Who was that?’
Rink had come silently to my shoulder. His mom was in the capable hands of her two lady friends, blissfully ignorant of what had just happened as she accepted their hugs and condolences.
‘I was just wondering the very same thing,’ I said.
‘You think it was Chaney?’
‘No.’ I’d credited Sean Chaney with more intelligence than this. From the way we handled him on the BART carriage he must have realised he was wholly outclassed. I was confident that he hadn’t run to the police to complain about us, because he would have had to come clean about why he’d made an enemy of us. He was a mug, but not an idiot.
‘If the cops questioned him about my dad’s murder he’ll know where to find us. No way that bastard’s going to bring trouble to my mom’s house.’Rink was building a case for pre-emptive action. I wasn’t usually averse to the idea, but this time we’d have been targeting the wrong person.
‘It wasn’t Chaney,’ I repeated. ‘His head wasn’t fat enough.’
‘You should’ve let me shoot Chaney, saved everyone a heap of trouble.’ He checked on his mom. Yukiko looked frail and bewildered, not an image I’d ever had of her before. Before this she had always epitomised strength and tranquillity, but now she was jittery as she glanced back and forth between her concerned friends. Then she would look elsewhere, and again I got the impression she was searching for another face.
‘Forget about him,’ I said. ‘Let’s concentrate on finding the man who did murder your dad.’
He scowled, but knew I was speaking sense. ‘You think that was him? That asshole in the car?’
‘I doubt it.’
‘But it could have been, and we just missed our opportunity to catch him.’
‘We’ll have other opportunities,’ I said. ‘In places less public than this.’
He understood what I was saying. When we did find the murderer, we didn’t want a bunch of innocents caught in the crossfire. We definitely didn’t want witnesses.
‘Got to see to my mom first,’ he said. ‘Then we’ll get started.’
Ordinarily a wake would have been held to honour Andrew’s memory. However, having just come out of hospital, and still weakened by her injuries, Yukiko was in no state to play host to a gathering offering their sympathies. Rink had taken the decision that his dad’s memory was honour enough and that a wake wouldn’t help his mom’s recovery. But he saw some value in having someone close by her.
‘I’m going to ask her friends to stay with her for a while. It will do her good. She won’t talk to me about losing my dad, but she might with them.’ Rink walked away to approach the trio of elderly ladies and I saw him kiss each of them on the cheek. I allowed him the privacy, taking the opportunity to scan the cemetery once more.
The three acquaintances of Andrew had already climbed into their respective vehicles and were pulling away. Lawrence Parnell and Rodney Faulks were still near to Andrew’s grave. They had their heads bowed in silent reflection, although they weren’t looking down at the grave, but towards Yukiko. They were possibly waiting for the right moment to offer their condolences; I wasn’t sure. Parnell glanced my way. When he saw me watching, he offered a nod and a grimace of a smile before dipping his head. I thought that during the brief interaction fear showed in his face. Perhaps he was feeling his mortality and the ceremony had made him consider his own short future. But I guessed that there was something else.