Jessica Burton

Death Goes Shopping


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our way through the throng, me issuing instructions as we went.

      I cleared off one of the tables, scattering paper and crayons to the floor, and Joe climbed up just as Joshua, Vijay and Roger arrived with the disc jockey in tow.

      Joe hooked two fingers in his mouth and let out a loud, piercing whistle. It took a couple of tries, but finally the crowd around us quietened down enough for me to be heard.

      “Can I have your attention please? I'm Jenny Turnbull from the mall management office, and these boys are on my staff.”

      Keep it short, I thought. No need to feed the frenzy.

      “The police officers have closed the mall, and it could be a few hours before we can reopen, so our first priority now is to get you together with your children as quickly and calmly as possible.”

      A man in front of the group stepped forward. There was a woman, his wife probably, hanging on to the bottom of his sweatshirt. “And just exactly how do you plan to do that?”

      “The kids'll do it. They know their own parents, so if you just line up along the back wall, the boys'll bring the children to you one at a time.”

      He took another step forward, chin thrust out. “I'm not lining up anywhere. I'm gonna look for my kid, lady, and I'm gonna look for him now.”

      After the morning I'd had already, this guy was enough to put the tin lid on my public relations skills. I planted myself in his path.

      “Look, buster, we're all having a bad time right now, but I'm not having these children upset any more than they are already. So get back with the other parents or I'll get an officer over here, and he'll put you back.”

      We stood nose to nose for a few seconds. I kept quiet then, because I knew the next one to speak would lose. Finally, with bad grace and a lot of muttering, back he went and the boys began the pairing process.

      I sat down at one of the tables in a spot where I could watch the kids join their mothers and fathers, praying that there would be no leftover parents or little ones, thanking my luck that I had hired those boys. If they never want to wear costumes again, that's okay, I thought.

      It took less than fifteen minutes for the families to join up and, wonder of wonders, nobody was left unmatched.

      I waved the boys and the DJ over and handed Joshua my keys. “Take Roger and go upstairs to my office. There's four cartons marked 'Seniors Day' in the cupboard at the back. Bring them down.

      “Joe, you and Vijay gather all these tables and push them together into three or four long rows with stools on both sides. The cartons the boys are getting are filled with decks of cards, board games like checkers and backgammon and that sort of thing. Spread them on the tables and try to get people started amusing themselves.”

      “What can I do, Jenny?” asked the DJ. Poor guy looked shaken. He wasn't much older than my boys.

      “Maybe you could start a storytelling corner for the little kids, Jim. They're going to be the hardest to contain for any length of time.”

      On any normal day in a shopping centre, people are like water—they spread out and find their own level. Today, of course, wasn't normal. They weren't allowed to spread out, and their level was getting pretty high, although I could certainly understand why. I can't stand to have my choices taken away either. I saw a small crowd talking to the officer over beside the entrance doors. He was shaking his head and motioning them away.

      Feeling like a cat that's just been dragged through a hedge backwards, I crossed my arms on the table and put my head down. I wanted nothing more than a wonderful, deep, lung-sucking drag on a cigarette. If only I hadn't let Helen help me stop smoking. I know it's not healthy. I know it can kill you. I know it makes your clothes stink. In fact, I know all the sensible answers, but by God, it's a wonderful pastime. I looked over at a guy sitting in the smoking area. He'd probably let me have a puff if I asked him. Smokers understand these things.

      I straightened up just as the boys came over and dragged a stool each to the table. The rally caps were back on. Joe's looked a little odd with the pink sweatsuit.

      “What's next?” asked Vijay. “What'dya want us to do now, Jenny?”

      Thank the Good Lord for teenagers. They've got a wonderful way of seeing things in black and white, no grays. Especially these teenagers. In one morning they'd been involved in two murders with a possible third, lugged a couple of hundred pumpkins around, been made to dress as rabbits and been locked in the building, but that was okay, that was history. This was now, so let's get to it.

      “Lunch is next,” I said. “We can't do much more here and, anyway, I'm hungry.”

      I've never understood people who say they're too upset to eat. To me, upset needs comfort, and comfort equals food.

      I looked around. We were inside a ring of yellow tape and police officers. The only people coming and going through the doors were in uniforms of one kind or another.

      “Well, the Food Court's sealed off with us inside, and pizza's definitely out, so I guess it's burgers, souvlaki or Chinese, they're the only ones open.” I handed Joe and Roger some money. “Get some of everything.”

      While the boys lined up for our food, I used the radio to call the Information Booth. We needed the upper management in here for damage control, and we needed them fast. Never mind that the Mayor and his group, complete with the press, would be here any time now, the first giant headache was going to be the reaction from the tenants.

      Retailers have their own logic. If sales are good, it's because they're doing something right, but if the numbers are down, it's because mall management is doing something wrong, and somebody gunning down their livelihood sure fit that bill nicely.

      I spotted Michael Leung, president of the Merchants Association, standing on the far side of the tape, looking at the scene. The managers of the mall's two department stores were on his left, one of them talking to an officer. None of them were smiling. I slid around to another stool so my back was towards them.

      The radio came to life.

      “Yes, Jenny?”

      “Mary, get on the phone and call Mr. Graham and Keith Armstrong at home. We're going to need them as soon as they can get here.” Bob Graham was our mall manager, and Keith was his assistant.

      “Helen's already done that, Jenny. They're on their way, and the Mayor and the others have been taken to the empty space round the corner from where you are. The one that used to be the video arcade. The police are using it for interviews and witnesses and stuff. They've taken the chairs and tables from your pumpkin carving to use.”

      “Thanks, Mary.”

      Well, as I saw things, that was it for now. The parents and the kids were occupied, Security was dealing with the police, the police were dealing with the Mayor, and Leung and his buddies couldn't get at me. Boy, I love it when things are under control. All I had to do now was eat.

      Three

      “Okay, Helen, what's the scoop?”

      She was over by the stove. “Just let me finish here, and I'll fill you in.”

      I'd been home since just before eight o'clock, impatient for the latest news and knowing Helen, with her inside lines to the cop shop, would have it. She must have been talking to somebody, because it was midnight now, and she'd only been home about twenty minutes.

      George Anderson, the Duty Inspector in charge of the “incident”, as it was being called for now, had finally permitted people to leave the mall about seven.

      Talk about a long, tiresome day.

      The coroner had arrived at the Food Court about one-thirty and declared two of the victims, one male, one female, dead at the scene. The third, a young twenty-something man, had been rushed to hospital earlier, accompanied by a police escort.

      I thought, and I'm sure most of