“We have all we need for now. This officer here will take you back to your men and take your statements. After that, you’re free to load your crop and take it out. I’ll contact the officers at the end of the road, and they’ll allow your driver through. We appreciate your help with this, but it’s now a crime scene, so you won’t be allowed down this road again until the scene is released. That’ll take a day or two.”
The foreman nodded and turned to follow the officer back to the road and down to the loading site. Neither man talked on the return trip until they were almost at the depression where the bundles of salal were stacked.
“Once we’re across the creek here, get your men together and follow me to the police vehicle. We’ll take your initial statements there before you load your truck. Your driver will wait. The detectives who investigate this will want to talk to you again, so be prepared. If there’s a problem with your employer, we’ll clear it with him. After you.” He pointed to the creek.
The two men waded across the stream and through the muddy depression to join the group waiting there. In the distance, they could hear the old stake truck grinding its way along the track.
The police truck had been pulled back into the bush to make room for other vehicles, and the officer led the men to it, opened the back doors, and they all climbed in. In turn, each man was taken to the front and questioned. The last to go was the foreman.
An hour or so later, the men climbed out from the back of the police truck and began to load. The stake truck waddled down the track, plowing through the mud in low gear, trying to avoid ruts already churned up and difficult to maneuver. Finally, it was waved through by a uniform and it bumped its way along the potholed road to the two one-lane bridges and the asphalt.
At the beginning of the side road and along the shoulder of the highway were more police vehicles: cruisers, more of the black trucks, and one half-track truck.
The foreman and the workers were curious about the half-track. While the stake truck waited for clearance to enter the highway, the workers discussed how good a half-track like that would be for their work: it had two front tires, heavy and wide, and where the back ones should have been were long metal treads like the ones on some bulldozers and cranes. Depressions and streams like those that had stopped them would be nothing to a half-track like that. An officer waved them through, and they continued on to the depot in Harbour City.
◆◆◆
Alan and Spence were in the squad room when the call came through. Inspector Josie Atardo leaned out her office door. “Alan, Spence. In here, now.”
The two detectives grabbed their pads and made for her office. When they got there, she was already back behind her desk and on the phone. “So how long ago? Statements? Sure, I’m sending two, they already got a similar… What? Okay, they’ll be prepared. Harding there yet? Okay, maybe half an hour.”
She slammed down the receiver and glared at them. “We got another one, a girl, young, way the hell and gone back in the woods. Press haven’t got it yet, but if you two don’t move your asses, they’ll be waiting for you. Son of a bitch, we don’t need a serial right now. You get this guy and do it soon. Already got the commissioner and fuckin’ politicians breathin’ down my neck, and you know I don’t like bein’ breathed on. Get on it and keep me informed.”
Alan and Spence were already out the door when the last remark reached them. They grabbed their coats, headed for the locker room for boots, raingear, and a change of clothes, and made for the car.
“She’s a pain in the ass to work for, you know that? Be on our asses over this one just like the last one, and we got next to nothin’ on it yet. Shit, the bush again? It’s been pourin’.”
Alan sighed and opened the passenger door. “You got the location. Maybe we should just get there before you start in again.”
Spence glared at him, climbed in, and flipped on the computer. “Got a map here. Down past Chemainus, looks like, off to the side. We’ll see the guys.” She enlarged the map. “In the bush like that, sounds like the same thing as before. You think it’s the misper?”
Alan flipped open a file. “Chan. It’s been up for a while, she’s been gone a few days now. I don’t suppose forensics will get much more than at the Wingate site.”
Spence sighed. “Wonderful. Well, one thing, it’s gonna be a gas watchin’ Harding bitch about everything. Probably have to get somebody to carry him in. Old fart’s a pain, but at least he’s fast. Doesn’t piss around. In and out. Wish we were. We got any coffee? How be we stop at Tim’s in Chase River, or maybe Ladysmith. They’re both on the way. I get grumpy without a few cups.”
Alan glanced over at her, rolled his eyes, but said nothing. Grumpy, impatient, impulsive, and explosive described how she was all the time. For a tiny whip of a thing barely tall enough to pass the requirements, she made up for any lack with attitude.
Spence hit Terminal at the light, flipped on the grill lights and the siren, and floored the black SUV unmarked. It wasn’t supercharged like the cruisers, but it got up there. They breezed through the lights at Maki Road and Cedar and took the highway at top speed. Traffic was light and what there was, quickly pulled over to let them through. She cut the siren and lights at Ladysmith, cruised through the Tim Horton’s drive-through, and with coffee and a couple of bagels, they hit the highway north of the last lights. Siren and lights back on, she ran the red and floored the car. Traffic cleared all the way to the Chemainus turnoff, and once through the light, Spence slowed.
Down the long hill, they could see the gaggle of police vehicles gathered round a paved turnoff. She cut the siren, left the grill lights on, and pulled over. Among the vehicles on the side road, they could see the coroner’s car off on the shoulder.
Alan leaned out the window to talk to the uniform directing traffic.
“How far in?”
“The perimeter’s set at a junction about a click in. Road’s not too bad but watch for potholes after the second bridge. Some of ‘em are bad. Sign-in’s further back, but you’ll have to be taken in, road’s bad. You wanna leave your vehicle here, we can get you in to the junction and bring you back out. Save the suspension on that thing if it’s got any left.”
Alan smiled at him. “You know maintenance, as long as it runs, it’s good. We’ve got all our gear in here, so unless it’s too crowded in there, we’ll drive in. Thanks.”
The uniform waved them through, and Spence drove down the paved section and on up the gravel road. Once across the second one-lane bridge, the road became difficult. Potholes wasn’t quite the right word, Alan thought.
Spence drove slowly, avoiding as many holes as she could. They found the perimeter easily enough. Hard to miss given all the stuff pulled off to the sides. They left the SUV back a ways and walked up. A half-track was pointed inland at the beginning of a muddy track just where the road made a sharp turn. A man in boots and a yellow slicker approached.
“You guys homicide? Been waiting for you.”
Alan and Spence nodded while the man checked the gear they’d put on.
“We’re gonna go in with the half-track, it’s the only way to get there. Road’s a mess. Sign-in’s back there, crime scene’s up a little ridge and back in under the trees. The footing’s not the best, but you look like you’re okay. Forensics are already there. You wanna climb in, sit in the cab with me, we’re ready. Coroner’s in the rear. Crusty old bastard that one. He’ll get ready once we’re in.”
While the half-track made its way, Alan watched the forest slide by. The old logging road had been cut a long time ago and saplings and young firs had already reclaimed the swath of cleared land on either side. Sometimes the track was little more than a tunnel through the bush filled with churned mud. At other times, it opened up a little. Alan could see patches of Oregon grape and long drifts of ferns filling the land beneath the trees.
The half-track passed a wide-body rammed back into the brush at the side, wallowed through a depression with a stream r
unning through it, and stopped a few hundred meters farther in.
Men waded through waist-deep salal. Sign-in had been set up at the side of the road in a little cleared spot. Forensics had set up the specimen tent and organized the site up the track from sign-in. Jay Alexander, camera bag over his shoulder, worked his way down the trail through the salal and joined the two homicide detectives.
“I got in a bit earlier. Crime scene’s been taped off. First responder did that and did it properly. I’m done now, but I can tell you it’s the same sick fuck. Body’s eviscerated or was ‘til the scavengers got at it. Same MO, body’s naked, no clothes around, but this one’s messier and a lot harder to read. Harding in the truck?”
“You should be able to hear him from here,” Spence said, looking back at the half-track. “The old bugger’s been bitchin’ all the way. Gets on your nerves after a bit. How’d you guys get in here?”
Jay shrugged. “That half-track brought us in. We left ours out at the road. It took a while to get all the gear moved, but there wasn’t any other way. That road’s a nightmare. It’s messy up there too. You can take a look, crime scene’s marked off. Ask Georgie, he’ll send someone in with you. I gotta get this stuff over to the tent.”
They walked over with him. On the way, Alan asked, “How long you think Georgie and the team will be on this one, what with the rain over the last couple of days?”
“I couldn’t say for sure, but there’s not much at the scene but scattered remains. Torso’s intact, sort of, but extremities are all over the place. There’s gonna be a lot of animal hair and scat, god knows what else, so he could be awhile. Then again, if he decides there’s not much left for him, could be out pretty fast.”
Georgie met them at the collection tent dressed in his CSI fatigues. He talked to the two detectives for a few minutes, then turned to Jay. “You get what you needed up there? How’s it look?”
“It’s not good. There’s a lot of animal damage. Scat of various kinds, tracks all over the place. Not much for us as far as I can see. You’ll need lots of paper.”
Georgie nodded and sighed, then turned again to the detectives. “We’re almost ready to start specimen collection, but I’ll send you in with a tech and you can get an idea. Just stay on the perimeter, you know the drill.” He waved over one of his crew. “This is Evan, he’ll take you in.”
Georgie turned back to his crew. Evan nodded and said, “If you’re ready?”
“I’m Alan, this is Spence. We’re ready.”
The path in through the salal was wet slippery. They followed a path Jay had marked with yellow flags on metal wands that would be the official entry once Georgie and his crew followed. All three of them had problems with hidden debris and rocks, but eventually they got up the little ridge and across the open area to the firs on the other side.
The crime scene tape had been strung liberally, and they could get no closer than twenty feet or so. From there, they looked down under one of the large firs into a tiny cleared area lined with stones. In the middle lay what was left of a body. It was positioned the same way Kylie had been, the cuts appearing to be the same as well. There was a suggestion of patterning on the torso and an arm, at least what they could see of it. Livor mortis was well established, so it was hard to tell what was discolouration and what was otherwise.
From where they stood, the crime scene seemed more disturbed, with more damage from predators and scavengers probably because of the less protected body dump. Then there had been the rain, a lot of it, and what that did to a crime scene was unforgivable. Forensics would have a nightmare on their hands. If the scene was as clean as the first one, Alan and Spence knew they’d get little help. The maggots didn’t help either. Spence took a long look then turned away. Alan stayed where he was and studied the scene carefully, but there was nothing obvious. He joined Spence and they walked back to the track.
“Son of a bitch!” Spence said. “That fucker’s done it again!”
Georgie and his team passed them and worked their way up the trail through the salal.
“It’s Mary, has to be,” Alan said quietly. “But we’ll have to wait for old Harding to get her out and King’s findings to be sure. Forensics are probably gonna be a good while yet, so we can either walk or wait in the half-track.”
“I’m not sittin’ around listenin’ to that old fart complain. How long does he have to go? Can’t be more than a couple of weeks now. Who’s comin’ in after him, you know?” Spence asked.
“Young guy I heard. Let’s get some coffee and start a file. You got your notebook?”
Spence pointed toward the half-track. “In there, along with the thermos and the bagels I took from the car on the way in.”
Alan sighed and got the packs, said hi to the coroner, who wanted to talk, and went to join Spence in the cab.
Over coffee, they made notes on what they had and gathered reports from the database. All the initial interviews had already been logged in, so they set up the beginnings of a murder book. Alan would later print the info and make a physical book complete with Jay’s photos and the forensics. They both suspected they’d get about as far as they had with Kylie—nowhere. But two murders made it a definite serial, even if it wasn’t official.
The CSI team finished long before Alan and Spence thought it would. They spotted Georgie leading the team back a couple of hours after going in, and put their papers away. The guys were busy at the specimen tent, but Georgie wasn’t. He was making notes in the little black book he carried everywhere. Georgie was old school, like Alan, and preferred hard copy he’d made himself. He looked up as they approached.
“You’re going to get very little. Tissue samples won’t tell us much I’m afraid, but that’s for King to decide. Between the rain and the scavengers, there’s not a lot left for us. Still, you never know. We’re sending Harding in with you now, and he can pronounce, then it’s yours. I’m sorrier than I can say about this, but we’ll try.”
“You’re the best, Georgie,” said Alan. “If you can’t find anything, there’s nothing to find. We better get Harding up there and then he can get out of here. Thank your guys for us. They work hard.”
Spence nodded and raised a hand to Georgie, and they both turned toward the half-track. Harding was standing at the rear talking to one of the uniforms. He had on hip waders, it looked like, yellow ones, and a matching rain jacket. On his head, he’d put a ridiculous-looking black rubber hat with a wide brim that hung down on all sides. He looked a little like a Michelin man in the wrong outfit.
“You two again. We’re gonna trek through all that shit to look at remains spread all over the damn place just to say it’s dead. It’s insane to walk all the way up that ridge, possibly break something in the process, end up being carried out ourselves. There’s not even a path this time. Oh hell, let’s just get it done. I get another one of these, I’m retiring early.”
With the help of one of the uniforms hanging onto Harding’s arm so he wouldn’t capsize, they made the crime scene. Slithering and sliding closer to the body, Harding shrugged off the uniform. He bent over and snorted once. “It’s dead. Gather up the bits. Take me back.”
The last remark was directed at the uniform, who smiled uncertainly, held out his arm, and led the complaining coroner back through the trail of salal. Alan and Spence could hear his querulous voice floating over the area, fading only when they descended the ridge. They turned back to the body.
Spence pointed toward the head. “What is that, up there by her hair, see it? On the right side?”
Alan leaned in, cocked his head at an angle, reached over, and gently pushed the girl’s hair back. There was something metallic, and Alan poked at it with his latex glove. It looked like a tiny clip off a barrette. He wondered why forensics hadn’t bagged it. He took out his flash and looked again. Lit up, the piece looked like oddly shaped rock, obviously split off something with a couple of shiny flecks in it. Alan took out his cell and called Georgie.
“It’s Alan. We’re up at the body and we found an odd bit of rock just under her hair, seems to be a fragment of something with some mica embedded in it. Your guys left it here. Any reason for that?”
He listened, glanced at Spence, and nodded. “Thanks for that. We’ll leave it where it is then.”
“It’s a chip off one of the rocks in the circle, Georgie says. Probably fell off when the perp moved the rock to make the circle. The only thing it proves is that the circle was made before she was put here. But we already knew it was a prepared site, so it doesn’t give us anything useful. Forensics left it here so we could see it in place, and it’s photographed and noted.”
Spence shrugged. “We know where it came from, so let’s leave it where it is. We’ll get the photos Jay took.”
Alan nodded. “Let’s get the stretcher up here and get her out. I still don’t get the clothes thing. We never found any when we searched the Kylie site and we sure as hell looked. We’ll send in another search team, but we probably won’t find ‘em. Bloody shame, if it’s Mary. We gotta get this prick.”
They waited while Alan made the call and watched the two attendants struggle through the rough footing with the stretcher and a black body bag. Once they arrived and Alan had given them their instructions, he and Spence worked their way back down to the half-track. The driver was waiting beside it while sending something on what Alan thought was one of those new iPads. Spence walked up to him.
“The body’s on its way down now. Is that one of the new ones?”
The driver raised his eyes from his text. “Yeah, if you like these things, you’re gonna love this one, it’s fast. Who are we taking out?”
NIGHT MOVES: The Stroll Murders Page 19