Tumbled Graves (20 page)

R
ouleau
called her back shortly before eleven. She'd just checked that Dawn was asleep and climbed into bed when her cellphone buzzed on her bedside table. She turned the lamp on and checked the name before answering.

“How are you, sir?”

“Not too bad, Stonechild, all things considered. The visitation is tomorrow and the funeral will be the following afternoon. Frances asked for no fuss, but Gordon appears to need this ceremony to get through. Who am I to judge?”

“People find comfort in ritual.”

“I suppose. I got your message. Gundersund and Heath have also been in touch.”

He sounded sad and Kala hesitated. Should she tell him her concerns about the case or carry on without telling him? He read something of her mood in the silence because he said, “You're not convinced that Ivo Delaney killed them, are you?”

“I think we have loose ends.”

“Heath is of the opinion that we don't need to waste any more resources digging into his past. The case has cost quite a bit already with the river search, which will have to resume when the water recedes.”

“We've been told to wrap things up, but …”

“Did you have something left to do?”

“The warden at Millhaven got back to me late today, and I have an appointment to meet Benoit Manteau tomorrow morning.”

“If I was to tell you to go ahead, I'd be countering Heath's directive.”

“I'm sorry, sir. I didn't mean to put you in an awkward spot.” He was silent again and she decided it was time to end the call. Rouleau didn't need this distraction when he was dealing with such loss. “I'll call the warden and cancel.”

“No. I want you to go and interview Benoit Manteau. Like you, I'm not convinced of Delaney's guilt. He might well have killed his family but all of our evidence so far is circumstantial. What time is your appointment?”

“Nine-thirty, right after their breakfast.”

“You're okay to go alone?”

“Of course.”

She could almost hear the smile in his voice. He knew she didn't like having a partner. “I'll run interference if necessary. Give me a report afterwards. We'll go from there.”

“Thank you, sir.”

“Don't thank me. I want you to do a complete job before we close the file. Violet and Adele deserve our best effort.”

Millhaven Institution housed approximately four hundred of the country's most violent offenders. Located in the town of Bath just outside Kingston, “Thrill Haven” was surrounded by a double
thirty-
foot razor fence with observation towers in each corner. Armed patrol vehicles with Colt Canada C7 rifles and parabolic microphones that picked up sounds from many metres away were on guard day and night. The three main living units and the segregation unit were bursting at the seams with the closing of Kingston Penitentiary; the packed units radiated out from a central axis so that offenders could be observed in their living quarters.

Kala had expected the thorough search of her person and belongings that she received after reporting to the security desk and signing the visitors' log. She passed through a metal detector and her bag was placed into a locker. Her phone and recording devices also were not allowed inside the prison. The Correctional Services victim liaison coordinator met her and led her through the locked gate and into the waiting room, inviting her to sit at a round table with seats bolted into the floor. Another male guard came out from behind a glass partition to greet her. The room had the chemical smell of the recently cleaned. The walls were painted a cheery green but there was no hiding the institutional feel of the place.

“Benoit Manteau has been a model prisoner and he knows the drill. He'll sit across the table from you and will keep his hands where we can see them. There's a microphone in the table top and I'll be listening in on your conversation. If I hear anything worrisome, the guards will step in immediately. Any questions?”

“None that I can think of.”

She looked at the green walls for ten minutes before a side door opened and Benoit Manteau entered escorted by an armed guard. Benoit was wearing an orange jumpsuit and black shoes and he was smaller than she would have thought based on his reputation. His size wasn't the only surprise. Unlike his brother Etienne, he was beardless, grey hair shaved close at the sides and spiked on the top of his head. His eyes were black and hard; his skin permanently tanned. Kala was puzzled.

“You aren't the same race as your brother.”

“That's what you came all this way to tell me?” Benoit set his hands on the table and one of his exposed wrists had a fleur-de-lis tattooed in green ink. His legs were spread wide under the table. “We have different mothers. Mine's Hispanic but lived in Canada her whole life. Etienne's not so much.”

“Did you grow up with Etienne?”

“Yeah. His mother wasn't all that motherly as it turned out. Lucky for him, my dad was stable with a good job and my mother liked kids.”

“Where did your cousin Philippe Lebeau fit into your childhood?”

“My father has a sister, Lou. She raised Philippe alone in an apartment building in downtown Hull, now called Gatineau. Her boyfriend took off right after he was born, so she made do on welfare when she didn't have work. We lived in the richer English-speaking part called Aylmer until we moved to Montreal in our late teens. Anyhow, Philippe was just at our place, you know after school, weekends. It got so my mother just set him a place at the table.” Benoit laughed. “I used to get him to do my chores. He never wanted to go home to their dumpy apartment.”

“Didn't his mother miss him?”

“What do you think? She was seventeen when she had him and not ready to play house from what I remember.”

“You're forty now and Etienne and Philippe are thirty-eight, so at least twenty years in Montreal?”

“Sounds about right. I was eighteen and they followed me a year after that. We've always been tight. First time a cop's been this interested in my family tree.”

Despite what she knew about Benoit Manteau, Kala could see his charm. It would be easy to be lulled into carelessness by his deep, melodic voice. His eyes were velvety black and loaded with sexual innuendo. His stare was laser-like, no blinking, no backing away.

“You've heard about Adele Dufour and the child.”

“I got a call from Etienne, so yeah, I know about them.”

“It must have been a shock.” Kala waited.

“What, that she took my kid or that they were both killed?”

“Both.”

Benoit sat back in his chair and looked at her. He spoke with icy precision. “She stole my kid and then she died. I have no problem with retribution, Officer Stonechild, but my daughter being drowned? If I could, I would make the man pay. Unfortunately, I can't do much from my cell. I had nothing to do with any of this.”

He pulled something out of his pocket and leaned forward, setting a crumpled photo on the table. Kala saw the guard move closer to have a look, then step back once he saw that it was a photo.

She asked, “May I?”

Benoit nodded and she reached for the picture. A baby in a pink sleeper with black eyes open, skin a coffee brown and a tuft of black hair. The baby looked to be a month old. Kala looked at Benoit. He was staring at her, his unblinking eyes watching for her reaction. Calculating, assessing. She thought he was waiting for her to confirm a suspicion.

“Beautiful baby.” She kept her racing heart from affecting the evenness of her voice. She met his eyes and smiled. “Do you have other children?”

“No.” He shrugged. “I would have liked a son but my daughter is … was what I was living for. I wanted out of here to find her. Cécile sent this photo to me when I was inside, waiting for the bail hearing.” He shook his head. “We know how that turned out.” He reached for the picture. He tucked it back inside his pocket without looking at it.

“And your appeal?”

“Next month. My lawyer gives me a decent shot. She's come up with enough for a judge to have another look anyhow. She's been working on it for almost three years. I was set up.”

That's what they all say.
“Well, good luck with that. I guess this isn't too far for your family to visit you since the move.”

He paused then shrugged. “My brother Etienne has been once. Philippe is planning to come when he can swing getting away. Cécile says it's too painful but we talk on the phone. My parents are dead. I have an Uncle Maurice in Smiths Falls, but he's gone into assisted living. We used to spend summers at his cottage on Otter Lake. What I'd give for a week there now.”

“Has the cottage sold?”

“No. Still there, waiting for me to get out on appeal.” Benoit smiled as if seeing himself lying on the dock with the whole wide world open in front of him.

“I understand that Etienne owns the bar now in Montreal.”

“That's right.”

“You've been essentially cut out of the business. That doesn't bother you?”

Benoit spread his hands wide, palms up. “I have nowhere to spend money in here.”

“What happens when you get out?”

“I'm going to pick up Cécile and head somewhere warm for six months. Then, who knows?”

“I guess you haven't heard that the man who was married to Adele hanged himself yesterday.”

The dark circles inside Benoit's eyes expanded, the only sign that the news came as a surprise. “I hadn't heard. I won't pretend to be sorry. He might have thought about sparing my kid before he did himself in.”

“All of this has been a terrible waste.”

She wanted to ask him if he'd ordered the hit that landed him in prison, but she knew he'd deny it. He was no fool. Whatever he said was being picked up by the microphone and his appeal was imminent. That left her with nothing else of relevance to discuss. She signalled the guard. “I'll be going then. Thanks for seeing me, and again, I'm sorry for your loss.”

“Yeah, me too.”

On the way out Kala asked at the guard desk if she could check the log of Benoit Manteau's visitors. The two guards talked over her request and one put a call in to the warden. Another twenty minute wait and permission granted, she made note of one visit by Etienne Manteau on a Tuesday some two weeks earlier. He'd had two other visitors since Benoit was moved to Millhaven, but she didn't recognize either name. She wrote them both into her notebook.

Head down, deep in thought, Kala crossed the parking lot to her truck. She unlocked the door and climbed inside, taking a moment to jot down her impressions of the visit and the facts she'd gleaned in her notebook. Once done, she took a last look at the imposing prison wall. Dawn's father was also being housed in Millhaven. She'd never met him and had thought about arranging a visit, but not this time. When she wasn't involved in a case, she'd come back and meet him to satisfy her own curiosity.

She looked at the clock on the dashboard as she started the truck. It was nearly two o'clock and her stomach was growling. She unrolled the window and tilted her head outside to take a deep breath of fresh spring air. A low cloud cover had blotted out the sun and the air smelled of rain.
More rain.
She thought about Benoit Manteau and the crumpled photo he kept on his person. She wanted to talk over what she'd discovered with Rouleau but didn't want to burden him any more than he was. That left confiding in Gundersund or going it alone. Her inclination was to forge ahead on her own, but Rouleau had made her swear not to do anything rash after the last close call. She put the truck into gear. First things first. She'd find a family restaurant and have some lunch.

Then she'd give Gundersund a call.

K
ala
had just popped the last of the club sandwich into her mouth when her cellphone rang. She chewed quickly and glanced at the number before pressing receive. “Officer Stonechild here.”

“Officer Stonechild, it's Fred Taylor on the desk. A call just came in asking specifically for you. Woman by the name of Catherine Lockhart.”

“Did she say what it was about?”

“Not really. Just that she needed to speak with you. Didn't sound urgent.”

“Well I was on my way into the station but I can swing by her place first.”

“I'll log it.”

Kala tucked her phone and notebook into her purse and signalled the waitress for her bill. Twenty minutes later, she reached the outskirts of Kingston and the turnoff to the Delaney and Lockhart houses. She passed the Delaney house first. All appeared quiet, although the yellow crime tape wrapped across the front door signalled that the police would soon be returning. A kilometre farther on the Lockhart house came into view — a smaller home with blue shutters and a garden out front. Pansies crowded around a bird bath in jewel shades of purple, red, and yellow. Both houses were set back from the main road with clumps of pine, birch, and alder lining the long driveways.

Drops of rain began to splat on the windshield as Kala made her slow way up the Lockhart driveway to park behind Catherine's car. Thunder rumbled off to the east where the clouds were at their blackest. Kala zipped up her leather jacket and tucked her chin inside the collar before running the short distance to the front door. Catherine must have been watching for her because she swung the door open before Kala had a chance to ring the bell.

“I was hoping you'd make it before school gets out.” Catherine left the door open and Kala followed her into the kitchen. A coffee pot sat on the table beside a green glass vase filled with pansies and Catherine got another mug from the cupboard. A plate of butterscotch squares appeared in front of Kala. She took one even though she wasn't hungry. The chewy sweetness filled her mouth. Kala swallowed before asking, “Have you remembered something that could help us with the Delaneys?”

Catherine waited until she'd crumbled a square in her hands and eaten half. She set the rest on a napkin while she poured two cups of coffee and slid one across the table toward Kala. After pouring milk and sugar into her own, Catherine spoke. Her tone bordered on hostile.

“I almost didn't call you after your blond partner practically accused me of having an affair with Ivo. I have to tell you that I'm still quite put out by that.”

“I'm sorry. We have to pursue all lines of questioning during an investigation. We are trying to find the truth, which isn't always pretty.”

“Well, that was hurtful.” Catherine took another drink of coffee as she collected herself. “Sammy's bus will be dropping him off in a few minutes and I wanted to talk to you before he gets home. I might have mentioned that he's been having nightmares since Violet went missing.”

“I seem to recall that, yes.”

“He keeps saying that he saw a man. At first, I thought his overactive imagination was dreaming him up, but lately I've been wondering if there's more to it.”

Kala felt tingling at the base of her neck that she got when her senses told her something was coming her way. She nodded at Catherine to continue but didn't interrupt. Silence could be a powerful tool to draw out a story.

“I mean, he was bound to be upset that his best friend was missing. He said that the man was looking for her. I really thought he was making up nonsense but since he's been so upset and talking in his sleep. Last night, he woke up screaming. It took me forever to settle him down. You said to call if anything out of the ordinary happened.…”

“You've done the right thing.” Kala spoke as if calming an upset child. “At the very least, I can try to ease his mind about whatever is troubling him. You're right that he's probably experiencing trauma over Violet's disappearance, but best to be sure that's all it is.”

“I had to do something.” Catherine reached for the coffee pot and refilled their cups. “Rain's getting worse. I'll bet he thanks me now for insisting he wear his raincoat this morning.”

“Does he go to school every day?”

“No. I was taking him to playgroup most mornings, but with Violet gone he gets sad and sits off by himself. I finally called the school on Friday and he started afternoon kindergarten again this week. He was enrolled last fall but hated it, I think because Violet was too young to go too. My son needs to be around other kids, otherwise he'll never learn to cope and get along. He likes the bus ride, anyhow.” She looked at the clock on the wall and heavily pushed herself to her feet. “If you'll wait here a minute, I'll just go watch for him at the front door. The driver will be letting Sammy off within the next few minutes and he dawdles if he doesn't see me in the window.”

“I'll keep myself occupied with another square. They're delicious.”

Kala chewed on a mouthful while she checked her messages. Gundersund had texted asking where she was. She typed a reply and asked if he could come by that evening to catch up on the case. Once she finished interviewing Sammy, she'd have to get home. Dawn would be there ahead of her and they needed to talk. She heard the door open and close and a bag hitting the floor. A moment later Sammy trailed Catherine into the kitchen.

“Sit at the table, Sammy, and I'll get you a glass of milk.” Catherine opened the fridge door. “You remember Officer Stonechild, don't you? She's dropped by for a visit.”

“Hey, Sammy.” The kid reminded Kala of a little bulldog, solid and pug faced.

He climbed onto the chair and grabbed squares with both hands from the plate. He'd stuffed one into his mouth while Catherine had her back to him getting a glass out of the cupboard. Kala smiled at him when he finally made eye contact.

“Your mom has been telling me that you've been having bad dreams about a man. Can you tell me about what's upsetting you, Sammy?”

Catherine returned and set the glass of milk on the table. She shook her head at the sight of his full cheeks before moving her chair up next to him and sitting down. “Swallow what's in your mouth and tell Officer Stonechild about what's worrying you. She can help make it better.”

They waited while he chewed and swallowed. He looked at Kala with intense blue eyes, oddly disconcerting. “He asked me where Violet is.”

“Who asked you?”

“The man.”

Catherine looked at Kala with an expression that said, “See?”

Kala avoided looking at her and focused in on Sammy, who was stuffing the second square into his mouth. She waited for him to swallow. “Where did you see this man?”

“In the trees,” his eyes darted over to his mother and back to Kala. “Near the road. I was on my bike.”

“What did he look like?”

“Big.”

“Was his skin white?”

“White and brown.”

Not helpful.
“What colour was his hair?”

“I don't remember.”

“Come on, Sammy.” Catherine poked his arm. “You remember everything. What did he look like?”

Sammy started kicking the table leg with one foot. “He was big and he wore black.”

Kala thought for a moment. “When did you see him?”

“After Violet was gone.”

“Did he say anything else to you?”

Sammy shook his head. “Can I go play now?”

Kala said, “Why are you dreaming about this man, Sammy? What upset you about him?”

Sammy's eyes widened. She saw confusion in their depths and sat still, waiting for him to find the words.

“He followed us. Violet was talking to him and I called her to come. He asked her my name and she told him. Sammy Lockhart.”

Catherine sighed, breaking the moment. She pushed herself to her feet. “I'll just go cut some more squares. You can have one more, Sammy, for helping Officer Stonechild. No matter how little.” She mumbled the last sentence in Kala's ear on the way to the counter.

Kala moved her chair a little closer to Sammy. “If you saw the man after Violet went missing, how could he have been talking to her?”

Sammy closed his eyes tightly and scrunched up his face.

Very softly, “Sammy? How could that be?”

His eyes shot open. Brilliant blue and suddenly remembering. “He was at the flower store when Violet and I were looking at the birds. Then he was in our yard after she went missing.” Sammy puffed out his cheeks and jumped off the chair. “I'm going now, Mom.” He gave Kala a mischievous grin and scooted out of the kitchen before she could stop him.

Catherine returned and plunked a full plate of sweets onto the table. “He won't give you any more now. I doubt any of it's true anyhow. I guess he's just upset about Violet. Thanks for coming by and talking to him though. I'm hoping your visit will be enough to get the nightmares to end.”

Kala wasn't so certain that Sammy's jumbled story didn't hold grains of relevant information. She thought over what he'd told her, cryptic as it might have been. “You said that you went to a plant nursery with Violet and Adele earlier in the week that she went missing, is that right?”

“Yes. It was our last outing. We stopped at Country Kitchen on Highway 2 for lunch first.”

“Can you remember if anybody else was in the restaurant?”

“It was busy. We had to wait for a booth.”

“Is it possible that a man approached Sammy and Violet while you were at the nursery?”

Catherine pursed her lips and thought it over. “I was going to say no, but I had to ask the clerk if I could use their washroom and I was gone, oh five minutes, maybe ten. Adele said she'd watch them, but when I got back she wanted to leave right away. The kids didn't argue for once and home we came. I managed to buy the pansies out front while Adele got the kids into her car.”

“Were there birds?”

“In cages. Little brown songbirds and yellow and green budgies. The kids love going to the nursery to see the birds.”

“You don't remember a man alone either in the restaurant or the nursery?”

“Nobody stands out.”

“And Adele didn't mention anybody?”

“No.” Catherine leaned her dimpled arms onto the table and reached for a square. “But now that you mention it, she kept checking the rear-view mirror when she was driving home. She seemed on edge. Do you think Sammy really could have seen a man?”

“I don't know.” Kala didn't want to worry Catherine Lockhart unduly, but Sammy's story raised alarm bells. “Maybe keep a close eye on Sammy while I check out his story. Keep your doors locked too, just to be on the safe side. We'll look into this tomorrow and I'll let you know what I find out.”

“As if I'm not already paranoid enough. I tell you, Officer Stonechild, between the deaths and Sammy's nightmares I'm about ready to move back to Toronto. I never thought I'd say this, but my old Regent Park apartment is starting to look like a safe haven.”

“Like this, Gundersund?” Dawn slid the spatula
under
half of the hardening egg and folded it over the bottom half. She looked up at him, her eyes seeking approval.

“Perfect. Two more minutes and we can slide this one into the oven with the other two to keep warm.”

“Aunt Kala works late a lot.”

“She should have more time soon. The case she's working on is nearly over.” He looked at Dawn's bowed head. She was a striking girl and self-contained for a thirteen-year-old. Other kids this age who'd experienced what she'd been through were already broken, but she was still reachable. Her desire to please and the spark to learn weren't far under the surface.

He reached into the oven and pulled out the pan with the other two omelettes and held it steady while she scooped the last one from the frying pan and laid it carefully next to the others. He set the pan on top of the stove and covered it in tin foil before sliding it back into the oven. Taiku got up from his spot next to the table and barked once before going to the back door with Minny at his heels.

“I hear her truck. I'll start the toast.” Dawn smiled and jumped across to the toaster.

“And I'll pour the milk.”

He always liked the first moment when Stonechild walked into the house. She'd look around for Dawn and her features would soften at the sight of her niece. She might not have acknowledged it to herself, but the connection was there and deepening. Then her eyes would find him and for the briefest of moments, he could tell that he was included in her circle. Slowly but surely, Kala Stonechild was letting them in.

“Something smells good,” she said, kicking off her shoes and dropping her bag on the floor. She knelt and gave Taiku and then Minny a good rub down their sides.

“We made cheese and mushroom omelettes.” The toast popped and Dawn got busy with the butter.

“You're wonderful. I'll wash up and we can eat.”

Dinner was becoming a comfortable routine. He thought that the three of them made for an unlikely family, for that was how he was beginning to feel around them. Dawn felt like a daughter, and Stonechild … well, she was someone he liked being around. When they finished the omelettes and toast, Stonechild made tea and Dawn left with the dogs to do homework. Before she reached the bottom of the stairs, Stonechild called to her, “We'll take the dogs for a walk after the tea, so don't plan to spend all evening shut up in your room.”

Gundersund stood and walked toward the kitchen window. “Has it stopped raining?”

“It was drizzling when I came in. The weather person on my car radio is calling for it to clear by seven. Shall we take the tea into the living room?”

They settled on either end of the couch. He could tell during supper that Stonechild was bursting to tell him something and she wasn't long
getting
 to it.