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Authors: M. J. McGrath

BOOK: The Bone Seeker
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29

Derek knew the exact moment his aerophobia began, but knowing had never helped him defeat it. The best way to cope with it was to distract himself. The police pilot, Pol, knew nothing of Derek's terror of flying and he intended to keep it that way. If it got around, he'd be the laughing stock of the Ellesmere Islanders – all 287 of them – and pretty soon the whole of the High Arctic. Before he'd taken the post on Ellesmere his colleagues in Yellowknife had warned him not to be fooled by the size of the place. The biggest small town the world has ever seen, they called it. And so it had proved. The arrests of Namagoose and Saxby had at least taken the heat off him, both more generally and with the Salliaq family, who now had added problems of their own. But the arrests had also made his own, covert, investigations more urgent. He was pretty sure that the pressure to arrest and charge the two Killer Whales had come directly from the Defence Department and that both Klinsman and the military police were just following orders. He'd got the impression that Klinsman had been playing second fiddle all along. That was one explanation for the colonel's almost desperate overtures at the start of the investigation. He was beginning to think now that Klinsman had been encouraged to close the case as soon as he could, even if it had meant implicating his own men. In the last day or two he'd even found himself wondering if the Killer Whales were being set up. Why the Defence Department might want to go to such extreme lengths he didn't know. But he intended to find out.

The ambulance was waiting at the side of the landing strip in Iqaluit. Two paramedics clambered out and helped Luc to manoeuvre
Charlie Salliaq into the vehicle. Alice and Lizzie travelled in the ambulance with the patient. Derek waited behind to complete the paperwork then called the Force downtown and got them to send him a ride to the hospital.

For a regional facility serving an area of 2 million square kilometres Baffin Hospital was pretty unimpressive. For the most part its thirty-four beds housed the elderly and infirm and folk who'd had minor accidents. Patients requiring major surgery or any kind of specialist treatment faced a four-hour flight south to facilities in Ottawa or Montreal. The locals often elected not to bother. They said that once you went down south you'd never make it back up again. There was something about the south that made Inuit give up and die.

By the time Derek had found someone who could tell him which ward Charlie Salliaq was in, the chief medical officer, David Applebaum, a tall, dry stick of a man with the braced gait of someone used to making difficult decisions in the absence of adequate resources, had already taken one look at the patient and advised an immediate transfer south. In typical Inuit fashion the old man had refused to go, saying that if he was going to die, it was bad enough to have to do it in Iqaluit. Applebaum had reluctantly admitted the patient to a family room with a stern warning about the risks. Salliaq was there now with Lizzie and Alice, awaiting some tests, but Applebaum had hinted that the results were likely to confirm what already seemed clear, that Charlie Salliaq was dying.

Derek's concern for the old man surprised him. Now that Salliaq's life hung in the balance, Derek was keen to ensure that he did not die before seeing justice done for his daughter. Which meant two things. First, persuading the old man to follow the doctor's advice and transfer somewhere they could give him specialist care. And secondly, trying to find a breakthrough in the case. Though, as Derek realized, this last was as much for Martha as for the remaining Salliaq family, who seemed content to believe that the perpetrators had been arrested and would be duly tried and, if there were any justice to be had in the south at all, found guilty.

He spent the time waiting to be called to the ward filling in the final medivac papers. Once he'd seen Charlie he intended to go down to the
local detachment, say hi to his old pal Bill Makivik of the Iqaluit Force, check the weather and talk to Pol about booking a take-off slot for the return flight. Having supervised Charlie Salliaq's admission, Luc had gone to visit a friend and left a number where he could be reached with a return flight time. Once Derek knew that, he'd give Anna a call and suggest they meet up. It was past office hours now and he hoped she'd at least agree to talk to him. He'd been disquieted by her story of the confidentiality agreement she was required to sign by the Defence Department and wanted to get to the bottom of it.

A nurse popped her head around the door and told him Charlie was ready to see him. He finished his paperwork and wandered down the hospital corridor. Lizzie Salliaq was sitting in a chair outside the room with her hands in her lap.

‘How's he doing?'

‘He was awake for a bit, but he's gone back to sleep now. They're gonna run some tests.'

The girl fell silent. Derek peered through the glass window. Charlie was lying with his eyes closed, clearly in no condition to be disturbed. It might already be too late to move him.

‘You eaten?' Derek asked Lizzie. It was late and they hadn't had time to eat before leaving Kuujuaq.

Lizzie waved away the question, but he went off to the cafeteria anyway and returned with a chocolate muffin and some hot tea.

Pulling up a chair beside the girl, he said, ‘Where is your mother?'

‘My cousin came to pick her up.'

He left a beat and changed the subject. ‘Can we talk about the investigation for a moment?'

Lizzie gave a brief nod. She seemed relieved at the change of subject.

‘When Colonel Klinsman came to see you today did he give you any indication about when the
unataqti
might be going to trial?'

‘They're being sent back to Ottawa.'

‘I see.' Derek supposed they would be tried in a closed military court. ‘Did Klinsman say anything else?'

A nurse breezed past with a quick smile.

‘Nope.' Lizzie made no eye contact. Was it shyness or was she being evasive? Derek couldn't tell. He wished Edie were there.

‘Lizzie, do you have any idea why your sister might have wanted to leave Kuujuaq?'

The girl's head shot up, her eyes fierce all of a sudden. ‘What makes you think she wanted to leave?'

There was a pause. Lizzie began dissecting the muffin onto her napkin. Something told him he'd missed the moment but he pressed on regardless.

‘What do you know about Rashid Alfasi? He works at the weather station.'

She threw him a sidelong look. ‘I know who he is.'

‘Did Martha ever talk to you about him?'

‘No. We didn't talk much about anything, OK?' Her voice quavered, the lips tight with anger. Then just as suddenly she slumped. ‘I don't even know why . . .' She tailed off.

Derek bent down so that he was at the girl's eye level. ‘What don't you know?'

Lizzie's shoulders heaved. ‘I don't know why my sister had to bring us all this trouble.'

It was an odd thing to say, Derek thought. Women did say odd, incomprehensible things. People did. But, in Derek's experience, most of those people were women.

‘What do you mean, “trouble”?'

The girl shrugged. ‘Nothing, I guess.'

For a moment she sat staring at her lap, then, letting the muffin fall to the floor, she moved to the window of her father's room and pressed her palm against the glass. She swung her head around to face him.

‘D'you think my dad's gonna be OK?'

•   •   •

From the hospital he walked down to the detachment offices in the centre of town. Sergeant Makivik was away at one of the outlying communities for a few days, so they would miss one another. Pol had
checked in with the weather reports and it seemed that a summer storm up in Kuujuaq would keep them grounded overnight.

The administrator found him an empty desk with a phone, from where he called the detachment in Kuujuaq and left Edie an update. He then spoke with the flight coordinator up at the Kuujuaq airstrip and told him not to allow any plane to take off or land without police approval. It was an extreme precaution, given the deteriorating weather, but he wanted to be absolutely sure that Muloon and Alfasi would still be in Kuujuaq by the time he returned. Finally he dropped off his bag in the bunkroom, checked for a phone signal – it was patchy down here, but you could usually get something – then called Anna on her personal cell and left a message for her to call him at the RCMP detachment. Then he went over to the coffee machine and plunked in a loonie. The device whirred into action; a cup dropped down from the keeper and a thin, burnt-looking fluid began to spurt from the nozzle. He picked it up and watched the tawny bubbles twirling around on the surface. Something told him Anna Mackie wasn't going to return his call.

30

Chip Muloon was sitting on the couch in his cabin working on some papers when Edie padded in, announcing herself with a ‘hey'. He looked up, shuffled the papers and slid them into a folder.

‘What are you doing here?' Neither his voice nor his face betrayed any emotion.

‘It's a small town and I'm kinda hard to ignore. Though you've been doing pretty good.' She flashed him a sorry look and saw his expression soften a little.

‘Don't, Edie.'

She braced herself for the lie. ‘I quit the police.'

He was genuinely surprised. ‘Why?'

‘The case is wrapped up. Namagoose and Saxby have been charged. It's over,' she lied. ‘And now I could use a drink and some company.'

He stood up. She waited until his back was turned then sidled onto the couch and reached out a hand for the folder on the table, but he was too quick for her.

‘Beer or whisky?' His hand went to the folder. He picked it up and drew it to him. She smiled.

‘All work, no play,' he said. As he turned away, still clutching the file, she saw he had written something on his hand, the letters SrTCs. Some kind of acronym, she figured, but not one that meant anything to her. She turned her gaze away and in that moment he noticed her looking.

‘Age,' he said. ‘I have to write my to-do lists on my hand or I forget them.'

She pretended to laugh and watched him as he left the room,
returning minus the file but with a couple of beers. He placed one can on the table and sat beside her, holding the other aloft. He'd wiped the letters from his hand.

‘To new beginnings.'

She smiled and swung her can against his in a toast.

‘You never liked Derek much, did you?'

‘Who, the Lemming Police?' He took a long swig of his beer. She watched him swallow. Something passed over his face but she couldn't read what.

‘I won't be seeing much of him any more,' she said.

‘I'll drink to that.' He raised his beer, then, without warning, he reached over and pressed his lips against hers. The soft warmth of him was like summer moss. For the span of a second or two she felt herself move nearer, her body responding automatically to his, but then her mind filled with the image of Martha's body in the lake and she stiffened. When she opened her eyes again she saw he was frowning. A flutter of anxiety started up in her chest. She told herself not to blow her cover. Leaning in, she placed her mouth on his again, feeling for his tongue. Mistaking her quickened pulse for excitement, he deepened his kisses. She could feel him pressing his erection into her hipbone. She moved closer, grinding herself against him. All of a sudden, he pulled back.

‘Just a moment, OK?'

She watched him move towards the bedroom. She'd banked on this, his fastidiousness about the scene of lovemaking. Before sex he liked to tidy the bed and light a candle.

She waited till he had disappeared from view then stood and, being careful not to make a sound, moved towards the kitchen, where she supposed he'd left the file. There was a sudden creaking and she froze. When she turned he was in the doorway, looking at her. For an instant, the hairs on the back of her neck prickled and a pulse rose up in her temples. Then his face broke into a smile and she felt herself relax. He lifted his arms, beckoning her, his shoulders low and soft. As she moved towards him, she felt for the multitool in her pocket but it wasn't
there. With a lurch she realized that she must have left it in his office. She told herself not to lose the moment. If he suspected for a second that he was being set up, it was all over. She moved forward, but it was too late. Muloon had picked up her hesitation. His arms fell to his sides.

‘You know what?' she said. ‘This is kinda sudden. Maybe we should ease ourselves back in some?'

‘Sure.' He smiled weakly. ‘I don't have anything for supper. How's about we go up to the lake and catch a couple nice fat char?'

It hadn't occurred to her he would suggest leaving the relative safety of the settlement. This floored her. Was it possible he had realized she was trying to trap him and was setting a trap of his own? She looked at that handsome face with its chiselled features and blank, blue eyes but couldn't read anything there.

To back out now would look odd. He'd given no sign that he knew what she was up to. If she wanted to get something out of him there really was no choice but to go ahead.

Following his lead, she put on her outerwear and went outside. He went around the back to fetch his fishing gear. While she was waiting, an uneasy hollowness crept over her. The feeling grew stronger as he rounded the side of the cabin with his rods packed into a bag over one shoulder and his Remy 303 over the other. She didn't have to go through with this. But another, louder voice in her head told her she'd have to live with herself if she didn't.

She flashed Chip what she hoped was a casual smile and, thumbing over her shoulder, said, ‘You know, I'm not exactly dressed for fishing. Maybe I should go put some pants on?' She'd go back to her tent and return with a knife.

‘You're fine,' he said.

She kept up the smile. ‘I really should let Sammy Inukpuk know I'm going. He'll be waiting for his supper.'

Her ex-lover glanced at his watch and began loading the gear onto the back of his ATV.

‘We leave it another half-hour, the fish will have stopped biting.' He swung the fishing bag then the rifle onto the back of the vehicle. He
turned and grinned. ‘Are you stalling because you don't wanna go or is it that you know I'm a pretty smart angler and you're scared of being outshone?'

She reprimanded herself for having let her imagination get the best of her. Muloon had no reason to be suspicious because he had no idea she knew about his past.

‘Wanna give me a ride over to my vehicle?'

‘Why complicate things?' He gestured to the broad seat. ‘Plenty of room on mine.'

She heard the voice of her mother –
The more impatient you are, the hungrier you will be
– and wondered if she shouldn't have waited until Derek got back from Iqaluit. But no. If Derek had discovered what she was up to, he'd have put a stop to it. It was now or never. She was on her own.

‘Let's go,' she said.

•   •   •

As they moved inland, along the Kuujuaq River, he reached back with one arm and pressed her into him. She tried to take comfort from the gesture. Why would he want to stop her falling if he had any ill intention towards her?

The lake came into view. Muloon drew the ATV up beside it, killed the engine and, slipping the keys in his pocket, came round to the back of the vehicle. He shouldered the rifle and began unpacking the gear. She dismounted and watched him haul his bag of fly rods and lures down towards the water. For a while he busied himself with the equipment and it seemed almost as though he'd forgotten her. Then he turned and smiled and she was struck once more by how little she knew him.

She went over and squatted down beside him as he cast his line. He gave her a sidelong glance. The surface of the water shone like a raven's plumage. His right arm moved like a derrick as he cast, the lure teasing the water into silver spines. For a while there was silence and she was filled with the desperate desire to extend it, to have the moment stretch out to infinity. A jaeger passed over and looked down at
them through wary eyes and she was reminded why she'd come. She wanted the truth. Sooner or later she was going to have to press him for it.

‘How's the research?'

Muloon's eyes flicked. He blinked and swallowed, pressing his lips together, then swung to meet her gaze.

‘So this is where the foreplay ends, huh?' His eyes were huge and lupine, the hostility coming off him in thick waves. He knew. He'd known the moment she'd walked into his cabin. All this time he'd been calling her bluff and she hadn't seen it. He was looking at the water now. ‘Did you really imagine I wouldn't find out you'd backgrounded me?' he said.

She told herself to stay steady. ‘You were still a suspect.'

‘And you thought you could honeytrap me?' He laughed and shook his head. His voice was brittle and shiny, like an icicle breaking. ‘You think you know all about me, but you don't. You know nothing and you wouldn't understand even if I told you. But you were prepared to sleep with me to find out.' He turned to her. ‘So, what does that make you, Edie Kiglatuk?' Without waiting for an answer, he sidestepped, reached down and grabbed the rifle.

‘Other people know where I am,' she said.

He smiled and shook his head. ‘No, Edie, they don't.'

For a split second she felt helpless, then something rose up in her, the old fierceness, and she swung her head violently backwards then, using all her force, propelled herself forward until her skull made contact with his face. She heard him cry out in shock, his left hand moving instinctively to the injury. Taking her cue, she thrust out her arm and pushed, catching him off guard and sending him reeling backwards, then, dodging his now flailing arms, she ran for his ATV.

He gave a shout and she could hear the splashing sounds as he careered through the boggy ground towards her. She felt him close in on her, saw a flash of something and felt the breath go out of her. He had his arm around her throat now, the inner elbow pressing against the carotid. She struggled but he was too much for her. He reached for
something in his pocket and she felt something cutting into the skin of her wrists as he bound them together behind her back.

‘Sit on the vehicle and swing your legs over.' He was completely calm. ‘Don't make me hurt you. Whatever you might think, I'm not a violent man.'

She did as he said. He picked up his gear and came over to the ATV and took the keys from his pocket. The engine ticked into life and they began to move off. She felt herself sliding on the leather seat and reached out behind. With supreme effort, by curling the end of her fingers under the saddle, she managed to find a small measure of grip. The ATV lurched forward, turned and picked up speed.

The vehicle rumbled through riverine sedge meadow then abruptly turned and began to climb, tipping her at an almost impossible angle. Her fingers, weakened by frostbite, seemed to have no solidity to them, but they were all that lay between her and a fall. The ground was an unforgiving moraine of sharp rocks and willow twigs, designed to put out an eye at best and at worst cause a fatal injury to her head. She made herself look about, trying to get a sense of where he was taking her, but a mist had come down and it was hopeless. So she closed her eyes and focused on her fingertips.

They had been going for some time when the vehicle shuddered to a sudden stop, throwing her forward into Muloon's back. He cursed softly, swung one leg over the saddle and dismounted. The mist had not cleared but she knew from the climb and from the particular saltiness of the wind and the aroma of saxifrage cut with guano that they were on the cliffs near Glacier Ridge. He went around to the side of the vehicle and motioned for her to dismount, then he bound her feet together. It had begun to rain, fierce little detonations, already part iced.

She saw him get back on his ATV.

‘You can't leave me here,' she said.

‘You'll find your way back. By the time you do, I'll be gone.'

The vehicle faded into the mist. She listened until the sound of its engine became a vibration then melted away. For a moment she gathered herself. The ropes were cutting into her wrists and ankles. A raven
watched on as she began to work her hands and feet against their bindings. It grew colder and her head ached. She thought about what a fool she'd been. Right now, this moment, Chip Muloon would be back in his cabin, packing his things and waiting for the Defence Department to help him make his exit.

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