by Ron Finch
After 15 minutes or so Bob said: “My dearest, I’m going to the den to jot down a few notes for tomorrow.”
As the chief of police, he did need to be organized. He had a 9 o’clock meeting in the morning with Det. Gerald O’Neill from London. He also wanted to talk to the coroner, Dr. Frank Whittles, and he needed to contact Alice Chalmers to ask her to identify the body. There were some other ongoing police matters as well that he had to fit into his Monday. He was also anticipating a visit from the mayor sometime tomorrow for an update.
Even with the next day organized on paper, Bob still couldn’t seem to calm down. The last two days, with the revelations that had come to light, had been too exciting.
He and his wife went to bed at their usual time but he spent the night tossing and turning. He finally got up around 3 in the morning and went downstairs and sat in his favourite easy chair. There was no point in him continuing to disturb his wife’s sleep.
MONDAY MORNING HAD arrived. Chief Petrovic knew he had about a week’s worth of work to get through by the end of the day.
He got out of his comfortable chair about 6:00 AM, having managed to get a couple of hours’ sleep sitting up. This early in the morning, even on a school day, he knew he would have the bathroom to himself for a while. He had a shower and shaved and put on clean clothes for the start of the week. Then he went up to the bedroom and said good morning and goodbye to his wife. Chief Petrovic left the house a little earlier than usual and was down at Mabel’s Diner just before 7:00 AM.
The chief had a big breakfast. Bacon and eggs and a couple pancakes with maple syrup. He washed it down with two cups of strong coffee. Mabel was used to seeing the sheriff early Monday mornings. For the last few years, he had made it his habit to have his Monday morning breakfast at Mabel’s Diner. The diner wasn’t too busy yet this morning, and this gave her the opportunity to ask if there was any new information about that body that had been found in the woods. The chief gave his standard reply: he said that he had no comment to make at this time; he told her it was far too early in the investigation to say anything; he mentioned there were still too many loose ends and too many things to figure out; and he said these things in a voice that was loud enough for several of Mabel’s nearby customers to hear. It was a little bit like a radio broadcast and he knew that everyone within earshot was tuned in to hear. Hopefully, everybody would now go back to having their breakfast.
Dr. Frank Whittles appeared and sat down next to the chief at the breakfast counter.
“Good morning, Bob,” said the doctor. “Is there anything we need to meet about today? If so, give me a time.”
Dr. Whittles knew from experience that any questions he asked of the chief of police in Mabel’s Diner had to be carefully crafted. No news would be broadcast without the chief’s permission.
“After you’re done your breakfast, drop into my office, Frank,” said the chief. “We will have a chat then.”
For the next few minutes, the breakfast crew spent their time talking about American League Baseball. Almost everyone in the area was either a Cleveland Indians fan or a Detroit Tigers fan. This wasn’t a particularly good year for either team. Most of the crew talked about how much they disliked those New York Yankees. The general consensus was that, hopefully, with Cleveland and Detroit out of it this early, the Philadelphia Athletics would win the pennant. Heck, even the St. Louis Browns were better than the Tigers and Indians this year. With the mention of the St. Louis Browns, the chief got up.
“I’ve had enough,” he declared and went to the till. “Do you have any pies for sale?” he asked Mabel as he was paying his bill. “I know it’s Monday. Maybe it’s too early in the week?”
“It’s never too early for pie, chief,” Mabel replied. “I baked some apple pies yesterday.”
“That’s great!” said the chief. “I’ll send Cst. Herman over in half an hour or so to pick up two apple pies.”
The chief then headed out the door with Dr. Whittles the coroner close behind.
WHEN THEY REACHED HIS office, he informed his secretary, Sherry Simpson, that he was not to be disturbed while he met with Dr. Whittles. He also told her to put the teakettle on. They would be having some tea at about 10 o’clock.
Chief Petrovic closed the door and turned to Dr. Whittles.
“I want you to keep what I’m about to tell you confidential,” he said. “Outside of myself, nobody locally yet has this information.”
“Understood,” said Dr. Whittles.
“Over the weekend, as a result of some good leg work done by Cst. Herman, we were able to determine the owners of the bush land. They live in the Ottawa area. The officer in charge of criminal investigations in the Ottawa area is Assistant Chief Dick Rutherford. With his help, and as a result of an interview he conducted, we have uncovered some very significant information. I believe the body the boys found in the cabin is the body of Louise Carter.”
The coroner was stunned.
“How is that possible?” said Dr. Whittles. “The Carters haven’t lived in the area for over 20 years.”
“It’s a long story,” answered the chief. “I have some other news for you as well. We have permission from Mrs. Carter to conduct an autopsy if the body is her daughter’s. So all we need to do now is make certain the body is correctly identified. I’ll be arranging a meeting with Alice Chalmers sometime later this morning. Alice has been a lifelong friend of Louise Carter, and according to Louise’s mother, Ruth, Louise had supper with Alice in Chaseford the day before she died. I’ll arrange for her to meet you at the hospital at 1:30 this afternoon so that she can take a look at the body. Will that time work for you, Frank?”
“I’ll make it work,” said the coroner.
“I don’t want to rush you, Frank, but I’ve got another meeting in a few minutes. At 9 o’clock.”
With the prospect of finally being able to conduct an autopsy ahead of him, Dr. Whittles left the office walking purposefully.
Dr. Whittles had been gone for only five minutes when there was a knock on the door. It was still well before 9 o’clock. The chief opened the door and found Det. O’Neill on the other side.
“Hello, Chief. I got up early,” said the detective. “I often find a drive in the morning helps me clarify my thoughts. On my way down the highway from London I did some more thinking about how we could conduct our interviews.”
“Sounds like you’re working overtime,” said the chief. “But before we discuss that, I’ll alert you that, before the start of our meeting, I want to bring everyone up-to-date on some pertinent developments that occurred this past weekend. But I’d prefer to wait until I have the other constables here before I talk about these developments. Then I won’t have to go over things again.”
“Not a problem,” said Det. O’Neill. “I have some notes here about my interview methods and a list of potential questions. I would appreciate it if you would take a look through this information prior to the meeting.”
The chief sat down and read through the material.
“It seems like you’re very thorough, Gerald. You obviously have a lot of experience. We certainly appreciate your help.”
Just as the chief was finishing his preview of Det. O’Neill’s questions there was another rap on the door. It was Cst. Herman.
“Det. O’Neill, I’m pleased to introduce you to one of our constables, Peter Herman,” said Chief Petrovic. “I don’t think you’ve met him before. He’s the fellow that did the leg work that uncovered the ownership of the bush.”
Det. O’Neill raised his eyebrows and smiled. “That must be one of the developments over the weekend you hinted at,” said the detective.
The chief winked at Det. O’Neill. “You truly are a detective.” He turned to Cst. Herman. “I have an important mission for you,” he said. “I’m entrusting you to pick up two apple pies from Mabel’s Diner and to deliver said pies safely here, forthwith.”
Everyone chuckled as Cst. Herman headed out the do
or.
“I think I can hear him whistling,” said Det. O’Neill.
“He probably is,” said the chief. “He loves apple pie, and he really appreciated the compliment I gave him.”
Ten minutes later, Cst. Herman was back and Cst. Smith had arrived. It was time for the meeting.
Chief Petrovic started by saying: “Det. O’Neill has worked very hard over the weekend to prepare a list of questions for us to use when we conduct our interviews. He’ll explain his strategy when the meeting is turned over to him. But before that, I’d like to start the meeting by bringing everyone up to date on the latest developments over the weekend.”
Chief Petrovic then proceeded to outline everything from Cst. Herman’s discovery of the ownership of the bush to Assistant Chief Rutherford’s visit to Mrs. Carter’s home in Ottawa and to the revelations that came from that meeting. The chief told them about his meeting with Dr. Whittles earlier in the morning and explained that if Alice Chalmers could give them a positive identification that would achieve two goals: the victim would be identified, which would be a huge step forward in the investigation; and the autopsy could proceed and hopefully reveal the cause of death.
Det. O’Neill and the deputies were properly impressed.
“Let me congratulate you on your detective work to date, chief,” said Det. O’Neill. “With your permission, I will now proceed with my part of the meeting.”
The chief nodded.
“I have two items on my agenda,” said Det. O’Neill. “To begin with, I would like everyone to take a look at this set of interview questions I’ve prepared. The order of the questions is important. There is a strategy involved. However, during the course of an interview, an answer to one of our questions may prompt you to add a further question we had not contemplated. If you are confident, and it makes total sense to ask your new question, ask it. You may gain significant information. If you have any doubts about asking the question at that time, then make a brief note to yourself and continue with the interview, saving that question for later. We can always go back and interview someone again. If you save the question, then after the interview has been completed, you can come and talk to myself or to the chief and we can give it some consideration. Maybe we can even think of some other questions go with it for a follow-up interview.”
A good discussion ensued. Other questions were considered and two were added to the list. They realized Det. O’Neill knew what he was talking about. Because of the new developments in the case, everyone was enthusiastic.
“Before we get to the second part of Det. O’Neill’s agenda,” the chief interrupted. “I think we need a break for pie and tea.”
This was a very popular suggestion. After their brief, 10-minute break, they proceeded with Det. O’Neill’s second item.
“I had prepared a list of candidates for interview,” said the detective. “But as a result of the events of this past weekend, we will be adding to the list.”
So they fleshed out the interview list, which included Jay and Joel, their parents, and farmers that owned properties that abutted the bush. They added all the members of the Carter family and nurse Bella Frankel.
“As we conduct these interviews,” said Det. O’Neill, “we may find that other names come up. If so, we will add them to the list. Everyone will do some interviewing. There will always be at least two of us present for every interview.”
“You two,” Chief Petrovic added, pointing at Csts. Herman and Smith, “will be in charge of contacting the people to be interviewed over the next two days. Some have telephones and some do not. If they do not have a phone, you will have to pay them a visit. You will report the names of those contacted and the interview times back to our secretary, Sherry Simpson. Remember to allow for a reasonable time between interviews. The other excellent recommendation from Det. O’Neill is that the local paper be contacted as soon as possible. We want to know what vehicles or people anyone may have seen in the area of Goshawk on the weekend of the death that were not ordinarily seen in that area. Cst. Herman, please visit the newspaper office once this morning’s meeting concludes.”
With that, the meeting ended.
ALICE CHALMERS, A STOCKY, friendly woman with a ready smile, was a long-time resident of Chaseford. Her oldest children were gone from home and now had families of their own. The youngest boy, Chad, had just finished his first year at the University of Western Ontario and had a summer job with the newspaper. Alice worked part-time for the newspaper as well. Alice worked afternoons, four days a week, so her meeting with Chief Petrovic, set for 11:00 AM at the police station, was not a big inconvenience. But she had fretted over it a bit. Why on earth, she wondered, would the police want to see her? She was sure neither Chad nor her husband were in trouble, but she supposed she would find out the reason for her visit soon enough.
The chief of police at last appeared and escorted her to his office. He offered her a chair and she sat down.
“I’m a little worried – and really curious – why you want to see me,” she said.
The chief seated himself with a sigh.
“You’re not in any trouble, Alice. Nor is anyone in your family. I know you’re all good members of the community. But I do have what will likely be very upsetting news for you.” The chief paused, choosing his words carefully. “I think you know that a body was found at a cabin in the bush near Goshawk last weekend. I’m sorry to tell you that we believe the body may be that of your friend Louise Carter.”
Alice’s demeanour changed abruptly and the colour drained from her face. She was in a state of shock.
“It can’t be,” she said. “I had supper with her Saturday. Just the two of us.”
Chief Petrovic remained silent, giving her a chance to process this unexpected possibility.
“Whenever Louise came to Chaseford,” Alice resumed, voice quavering, “we always had a good visit. We had agreed several years ago, you see, that every year, on the Saturday of the Victoria Day holiday weekend, we would go out to supper. Just the two of us.” She took a deep, shuddering breath. “That left my husband at home as the cook. For the children. He didn’t seem to mind.”
Alice broke into a sob.
“I’m very sorry, Alice,” said the chief. “I know this is a great shock to you. But we need your help.”
Amidst her tears, Alice asked: “H-how can I h-help?”
“One of my colleagues in Ottawa has already spoken to Louise’s mother,” said Chief Petrovic. “But she’s housebound. We need someone to identify the body and she recommended you. Do you think you could do that?”
Alice struggled to answer. “Yes,” she said, finally. “I think I can do that.”
“Thank you,” said the chief. “We appreciate your assistance. Would you be able to meet the coroner, Dr. Whittles, at the hospital at 1:30?”
“I think so,” said Alice, recovering somewhat. “I’m supposed to work this afternoon, but they have also been wonderful to me at the newspaper. I think, under the circumstances, it won’t be a problem.”
“If it is a problem, let me know,” said Chief Petrovic. “I’ll make the arrangements.”
The interview concluded, Alice made a tearful goodbye and left the office.
CHIEF PETROVIC FELT like he had done two weeks’ worth of work that morning. Dealing with a murder wasn’t an easy thing. Despite his many years of police experience, conversations like the one he’d had with Alice Chalmers were always difficult.
He looked at the clock. It was almost noon. Only half the day was over and already he felt exhausted. He lived only about three blocks from his office and decided he needed a nice, quiet break.
I’ll go home and have lunch with my wife, he thought. She’d gone to visit her mother this morning. Asking her how her visit had gone would take his mind off the case.
So Bob went home. He had a bowl of soup and a chicken sandwich. The chicken was left over from Sunday’s supper. He and his wife had a pleasant conversation about his mot
her-in-law. Bob didn’t mind his mother-in-law. Her husband had died about two years ago but she seemed to be getting along fine living in her own home. It was the same house that his wife had grown up in.
Chief Petrovic returned to his office just before 1 o’clock. Sure enough, the mayor appeared about 10 minutes later.
Mayor Thompson was a breath of fresh air. He’d won election a year before, and he was a good man. He respected the law and he was easy to work with. More importantly, Mayor Thompson was reliable and he knew how to keep confidential matters confidential. The last mayor had been a bombastic showboat who’d always had to be front and centre. He’d tried to run everything and everybody – even if he didn’t know what he was doing. After four years of those antics, he never stood a chance of being reelected. The chief of police didn’t like to think about the old mayor. The interfering busybody had almost cost him his job.
Chief Petrovic updated the new mayor on the current status of the case. Mayor Thompson thanked him and reassured the chief that he wouldn’t discuss it with anyone else. Then he asked how Det. O’Neill was working out and wondered if there was any other support he could provide to help the chief of police with his investigation. The chief assured him that he would let him know.
The mayor departed and Chief Petrovic turned his attention to some other police matters. He was just finishing up some paperwork when there was a knock on the door. He looked up. It was a little after three in the afternoon.
He went to the door and opened it. Dr. Whittles was waiting on the other side.
“Did you meet with Alice Chalmers?” asked the chief.
“Yes. I’ve never really spoken to Mrs. Chalmers before,” said the coroner. “She’s a very nice woman, but now she’s also a very upset woman, Chief. She gave us a positive identification on the body. It is Louise Carter.”
Chief Petrovic sighed. “Thanks, Frank. I guess now you can do the autopsy, at least.”