Flashback (25 page)

Dupuy bent over the case. 'The guy who was chased off must have known this was full of dope.'

'Which means he must have been tight with Waites.'

'Maybe your idea is good after all,' Dupuy said carefully. 'Maybe Waites' wife knew about the dope as well and was going to blow the whistle.'
 

'That's a solid motive for killing her.'

'Maybe.' We looked at one another, thinking hard. He was beginning to see the case the way I did. Like me, he felt flooded with useless information. We had everything except answers.
 

I thought for a moment. 'Sergeant Holland should be told about this now, while he's having a talk with the Tracy woman.'

'I guess I'll go see if he's there yet,' Dupuy said. 'The meat wagon's on its way. Can you stay here till then?'

'No problem. Then I'll wait for your man to arrive. Tell him to flick his lights twice so I'll know it's him.'

'I will. And thanks.' He left Waites' clothes piled where I had folded them and took the suitcase with him, closing it carefully first. 'Talk to my guy before you leave.'
 

'Right.'

He walked out and I sat on the edge of the bed, stroking Sam's head absently. There were so many connections staring us in the face. But how did they fit? This latest angle, for instance, the drugs. Dupuy was right, the way the case was filled made it very professional. But who was behind it? The suitcase belonged to Waites. Had he known about the drugs? Or had they been put in there before he bought it? And when had he bought it? And why was it with him in Murphy's Harbour? And why had Jeffries taken it when he killed Waites? Had he taken it just for the clothes it contained, or had he known it was packed with dope? And where had Waites been taking it in the first place?
 

I thought about that aspect for a while. We're further from Montreal than from Toronto, so he couldn't have been intending to ship it there. On the other hand, we're closer to Sault Ste Marie where there's a crossing into the States. Perhaps Waites had intended to send it over the border there. But why hadn't he done so already? He'd been in Murphy's Harbour almost a week. And that was when I had another idea, the reciprocal course. Maybe he had arrived here with a clean suitcase and someone had filled it for him. Maybe he had to sell it in Toronto. Maybe the stash in his golf shoes had been some kind of advance payment for his involvement.
 

That raised the question of who his supplier had been. He was tight with Ms Tracy. But if she were the source, surely her contacts would have been in Toronto. That was where she spent ninety-nine per cent of her time.
 

I was roused by the sound of a vehicle outside and then a tap on the door. I called, 'Come in,' and the door opened to admit a couple of ambulance men. 'We're here for the body,' one of them said. He was young and elaborately casual, his hair cut bowl fashion, long on top, almost shaved at the sides, out of character with the formality of his uniform.
 

'He's here.' I pointed and they brought in their stretcher and stood looking down at the dead man. 'Well, thank God he ain't heavy,' the other one said. He was older, with the red face and explosive skin of a heavy drinker. 'Last call we got was this heavy old broad up three flights of stairs. Goddamn near killed me getting her down.'
 

'You're lucky this time,' I told him. 'Try not to scuff up the chalk mark.'

'No problem,' the young one said. He wrinkled his nose. 'Jeez. How can you guys work in a stink like this?' I said nothing and they rolled the body on to the stretcher and left, joking back and forth to show what hard nuts they were.
 

I switched off the light and left the room, driving my car around the back of the unit, out of sight of the road, then took Sam and went out to the front of the unit, close to the entrance. I made myself comfortable with Sam beside me, waiting. No cars passed. At this time of night the side-road was used only by the locals and they were in bed. At last a car approached, from the direction of the highway. As he pulled in he flicked his lights and he pulled in at a vacant spot down the front of the unit.
 

The driver turned and wound his window down as I approached. There was enough starlight for me to see that he looked young. A uniformed man, I guessed, press-ganged into plainclothes stakeout work in his own car. He spoke first. 'How're you tonight?' the tough-guy mask of a green copper.
 

'Good. You? You know what's on?'

'Yeah. The inspector briefed me.'

'Good. We want this guy, if he comes back.'

He looked at me contemptuously, without speaking. Who the hell was I to tell him anything? He was chewing gum, I noticed, and I hoped he could handle the job. The man we wanted might come back on foot and if this guy got bored and turned on his radio Kershaw or whoever it was would be spooked.
 

I asked him to call his office and let them know I'd left, then collected the car and drove back up to the harbour. It was after midnight but there were still cars parked in front of both drinking spots so I looked into both places. The crowd had thinned in each of them but there was no sign of Kershaw or Hanson. I checked all my properties one last time and waited in the car for half an hour, until the bars both closed and the last customers drove out then took one last trip to the station to check for messages.
 

There were a couple of Faxes and about a yard of entries on the teletype which I read first. Nothing new. More details of the case, the descriptions of Kershaw and Moira Waites and Hanson and the make and number of Ms Tracy's Mercedes, all issued by the Parry Sound dispatcher.
 

I went over to the phone to check the Fax machine and while I picked up the messages I pressed the preprogrammed button to get the OPP. The desk man told me that Sergeant Holland was talking to the inspector and put me through. I glanced at the Fax messages as I waited. The top one was a circular, inviting me to save big bucks on a new Chevrolet. I crumpled it up as Dupuy answered.
 

'Bennett?'

'Right, Inspector. I wondered what Bill learned from Tracy.'

'Nothing,' he said. 'Let me put him on.'

There was a rustle as the phone changed hands, the distant burble of voices in the room and then Holland said, 'She'd gone, Reid. Signed herself out.'
 

'Dressed in what? She was naked when we brought her in.'

'She called the Salvation Army. They brought her in some clothes.' Holland was thinking now. He obviously hadn't analysed the details before this.
 

'Where did she go? She didn't have either money or a car.'

'The Sally Ann captain gave her a few bucks. She took a cab from the hospital. We're following up on it now but she's gone like a wild goose in winter.'
 

'There's a bus for Toronto at midnight. Gets to the highway here around quarter to one. I guess you checked that. Other than that she must have taken a room someplace.'
 

'We're checking but we've only got one man on patrol, the other guys are on the road block.'

'Did the doctor have anything to say about her condition?'

'Just one thing. Apparently you'd asked him to take a blood test for drugs. He didn't find anything.'

'Did he say she was faking the coma?'

'Wouldn't commit himself on that one.' Holland humphed tiredly. 'Gave me the usual medical double-talk, that the degree of loss of consciousness did not tally with his experience of her kind of injuries. Nothing we could take to court.'
 

'You need me to come up and help? I'll check her house first.'

'There was a muffled consultation and then Holland said, 'No. The inspector says we all need a break. She's not a suspect. I was just going to talk to her for background. He says the hell with it, we'll chase her up tomorrow.'
 

'Suits me, it's been a long day. I'll take a ride by her house on my way home, though.' I realized how tired I was, finding to my surprise that I had sat down without thinking about it and was leafing through the other Fax sheets as I talked, hardly seeing what I was reading.
 

Holland made some answer but a word in the next Fax sheet caught my eye and I missed his comment. The word was 'Kershaw'. I said, 'Hold on a second, there's a Fax here might help.'
 

I read it quickly. It was from my sister's house. She had installed a machine so she could work at home sometimes when the kids were off school. The message was from Elmer Svensen.
 

Reid. Talked to Chuck about Kershaw. He says K. was running an investment brokerage, small stuff. He thinks K. had dipped into the money, $2-3 hundred thou. His bet went sour and he tried the bank caper. Seems there was a shipment of negotiables coming in that day and he knew about it. Not a standard robbery. Also, Chuck says the investment that failed was a movie. Does this help? There was no charge laid on the scam, his wife made the losses good.

'Listen to this.' I told Holland. 'The circle keeps on getting smaller and smaller.' I read him the Fax and waited.

He said, 'Yeah. Could tie in, I guess, if it was Tracy's movie.' He didn't sound enthusiastic and I knew why when he went on. 'Alla this stuff's older'n hell. I don't see how it helps to know what happened six, seven years back. We got three warm corpses to worry about. We've got reporters up the yin-yang here. Everyone's wantin' to know when we're gonna make an arrest and we keep comin' up with stale stuff.'
 

I took a moment to get my excitement down to his speed. He didn't see the connections the way I did. It all seemed academic to him with media people chasing him for action. By the morning the media would be down here, bugging me when they realized that the OPP didn't have any sexy answers. Then I might feel like he did.
 

'It ties in,' I said slowly. 'From where I sit, and I'm sitting because I'm just as pooped as the rest of you, we've got some kind of reunion of rounders. First one of them we can get hold of, including the Tracy woman, and this thing's gonna come to pieces in our hand. You'll be promoted, Dupuy will get to be Prime Minister and I'll get my week's pay.'
 

He knew I was right but his agreement was feeble. 'I know, Reid, but we got three people, four if you count this Kershaw guy, all of them can untie this thing for us and one or other of 'em's gonna turn up soon. I say we call it a night.'
 

I could imagine Dupuy sitting across from him, nodding agreement. An arrest would profit them. They belonged to an organization with room to move ahead. But they were weary.
 

'OK. It's a night,' I said.

'Yeah. Good idea. Get back at it first thing. Meantime we'll check all the motels, see if they've got the Tracy woman staying there. Shouldn't be hard to track her down if she's in town.'
 

Not if she was dumb enough to take a motel, I thought, but she wasn't. Either she would rendezvous with somebody and drive away or else she would check in at some guest house run by a widow who would have the lights out by now and wouldn't be checked.
 

'I'll look in on her house on my way home,' I said. 'Talk to you tomorrow.'

'Right, thanks. Oh, and the inspector says, can you send us a copy of the Fax, together with the source.'

'Will do, but don't call them, he's a cop too, working on a homicide in Toronto. He needs his sleep as well. Besides, he's my brother-in-law.'
 

'Small world,' Holland said and hung up.

I sent them the message, along with Elmer's name and rank in the Metro department, then closed up the station and drove back to Main Street, over the bridge and up the side of the lake to Ms Tracy's house. It was in darkness and there was no car outside but I was wary and drove by without slowing and stopped around the next bend in the road. Then I took Sam and walked back down there and checked the house. The padlock was in place in front and the back door was shut and didn't look as if it had been forced. I'd bolted it when I closed the house up and had not yet given Ms Tracy the key. She was still away.
 

I stood there and thought for a while, wondering what to do next. I hadn't thought to ask Holland the time she had checked out. Maybe she was still on her way down here. Maybe. And in the meantime I had nothing to do but sleep till morning.
 

That decided me. I've slept out a lot. Camping with my family as a kid, and most of the nights I spent in Vietnam. And I had Sam with me, he'd wake me if anyone showed. I would rest here. I moved out into the bush beside the house, close to the road, took off my cap and stretched out on the dry duff of needles and debris from the pine trees overhead. Sam settled beside me and I lay there and relaxed in the warm night, glad that the mosquitoes had given up, as they do after midnight. Pretty soon I was asleep.
 

Sam woke me, stirring slightly, and I opened my eyes and sat up, wide awake, the way you are in the boonies when the guy on watch nudges you. A car was coming up the road towards us. I checked my watch, it was three–eighteen.
 

I crouched up as it pulled into Ms Tracy's driveway. Someone got out of the passenger side. Her car! And she was not alone! I had them!

I pulled my gun and stepped out on the driveway with Sam beside me. I was thirty yards from the car and edging closer when I heard Ms Tracy swear. 'There's a goddamn padlock on here. Help me.'
 

I stopped as the driver got out of the car. There were two other people inside I saw, and then, outlined against the glare of the headlights I saw that the man was carrying a long gun. 'Police. Drop the gun,' I shouted.
 

He whirled towards me, levelling the gun and I fired twice and dived sideways into the trees as the orange muzzle flash from the shotgun bloomed towards me, round and bright as the sun.