by Ken Ogilvie
On two occasions during the McBride investigation, she had sensed that danger was imminent. She felt the same thing at Hound’s cave. Had it just been her imagination? But lives had been saved because she’d taken the forebodings seriously.
Sykes stepped into the clearing, brows knit. “If Jackie came here right after she escaped from prison, we should have found evidence of it four days ago when we searched this entire area, including Hound’s cave. If she stayed here on the first night of her escape, she did a thorough job of erasing her traces. She must have guessed we would search around here, and returned after we’d gone.” Sykes shook his head. “Maybe she just took a huge gamble.” He turned to face Hound. “Any ideas?”
“I don’t know. Maybe . . .”
“Go on.” Sykes’s eyes were bright.
“I believe Jackie knew about the cave long before I came across it.” He sighed. “We’ll find fresh evidence that she spent time here after your search team vacated the area.” He turned and pushed his way into the thicket concealing the cave’s entrance.
“Wait a moment.” Rebecca pulled out her gun. You couldn’t take chances with Jackie Caldwell. She shoved past Sykes and grabbed Hound’s arm. He stopped and stared down at her.
“She might be inside. I’ll go first.” She waved her SIG.
“She’s not here now,” Hound said. “I’d have smelt her. She has a distinctive odour that reminds me of nail polish remover. I can smell it even in a crowd of people.”
“All I can smell right now is the forest,” Rebecca said. “But I should still lead the way.”
“Don’t worry about me, Rebecca.” Hound moved on.
“Hound . . .” she began, but Sykes tapped her on the shoulder and shook his head. She gave him a frosty look. He was letting her friend walk into danger. Nevertheless, she gave in and followed Hound through the cleft.
Inside the cave, Hound struck a match and lit a lantern that cast a yellowish pall over the room. Rebecca gazed at the familiar roughly scraped walls and twelve-foot-high ceiling.
Hound went over to a cot that was sturdy enough to handle his massive frame. He lifted the woollen blanket that covered it, and sniffed. He closed his eyes briefly, then studied a scarred wooden table and a thick oak stool. “Jackie’s been here, alright, and just a few hours ago. Her scent’s strong, and the furniture’s been moved since my last visit about a month ago. Look, the footprints in the floor match her shoe size, and the empty food container and water bottle in the corner of the cave aren’t mine. I had the feeling I was being watched this morning when I found the body. Jackie must have seen me there and cleared out soon afterwards. This time she didn’t bother to tidy everything up. She won’t return.”
“So where is she now?” Sykes seemed certain that Hound would know the answer.
“I don’t know,” Hound mused. “She could still be in the woods close by. She might have seen us come in here, although I didn’t sense her following us or watching from a distance, but I wouldn’t rule it out.”
“I’ll call in backup.” Sykes made for the tunnel.
“I wouldn’t advise leaving just yet,” Hound said. “If she’s outside, she could shoot you.”
Sykes froze in mid-step. “Stupid of me. I’ll try from here.” He moved a short distance into the tunnel and instructed Constable MacLean to bring reinforcements, with lots of firepower.
Sykes handed the phone to Hound. “Please tell the rescue team where to go. We’ll wait inside until they arrive.” He sat down on the oak stool, his face set hard as granite.
* * *
“Any sign of Jackie Caldwell on the way?” Sykes asked. The moment the rescue team arrived at the cave, he had gone outside and cornered Constable MacLean. Hound and Rebecca followed.
“Nothing, sir.” MacLean was a large man, yet next to Hound, he looked like a child. Rebecca was reminded of how terrifying her massive friend could be when he was provoked. She’d witnessed him in action the day he’d roughed up Butch, the bully of Conroy, now deceased. Butch had been the son of Charlie Taylor, the town mayor. Like Marco Perez, the mayor had disappeared without a trace during the McBride investigation.
Rebecca had also seen the aftermath of Hound’s brutal fight with Guido Daglioni, the powerful bodyguard to Perez. Guido had been a hardened street fighter, and a reputed killer. Word of their battle had sent shockwaves through the OPP constables who’d had run-ins with the burly thug. When Hound had visited her in Orillia a few weeks ago, Rebecca was worried that the officers and staff would make fun of his enormous bulk. Instead, they were awed. Two senior constables had rushed over to shake his hand. Rebecca suspected that DI Sykes had something to do with this. He genuinely admired Hound’s skills and courage. And everyone on the force except Superintendent Cartwright doted on Sykes, crusty as he could be at times.
Sykes’s sharp voice broke into Rebecca’s thoughts. He gave her an inquiring look, and continued to address the team. “We’ll go in single file to the meadow, but stay tight. I believe we’re all convinced it was Jackie Caldwell who killed the man in the meadow. I doubt she would try anything that might expose her, but let’s not tempt fate. Keep your eyes open and your guns ready.” He drew in a deep breath. “Okay, let’s go.”
They made their way back, scanning the woods as they went. Hound and Rebecca were positioned in the middle of the rescue team, so as to give Jackie less opportunity to shoot them.
When they arrived, Sykes said, “DC Bradley, come in my car. And, Hound, you’re welcome to join us. In fact, I recommend it. One of the constables can take the Bentley to your house.” He eyed Hound’s vintage car. “It’s too precious to be left unguarded.”
“No thanks,” Hound said. “I’d rather drive, although I’d be pleased to join your convoy.”
“Your call.” Sykes went to his unmarked car, with Rebecca following him, glancing anxiously over her shoulder at Hound.
The trip to Conroy was uneventful, for which Rebecca was grateful. The thought of Jackie Caldwell armed and running loose terrified her. That woman would kill anyone who got in her way, especially Rebecca. She couldn’t let Jackie stop her from living her life, so she would just have to be careful. Sykes was doing all he could to find Jackie, and Rebecca didn’t believe anyone could stay out of his clutches for long.
When they arrived in Conroy, Constable O’Reilly was standing outside his office, legs spread wide and arms akimbo.
The search team trickled from their cars while O’Reilly shouted a greeting. As soon as Hound’s Bentley pulled in behind them, O’Reilly rushed to meet it.
Sykes shot him a jaundiced look. He told Rebecca to wait in the office and instructed the other team members to go back to Orillia and prepare to return to Conroy at first light. After allowing O’Reilly and Hound a minute to chat, Sykes waved them over.
* * *
“Take your seats,” Sykes said. “We have some talking to do before I return to Orillia.”
Rebecca’s stomach grumbled. It was a long time since breakfast.
Sykes regarded her with amusement. “Don’t worry, DC Bradley, this won’t take long. We can pick up something to eat at Duffy’s on the way back.”
He cleared his throat. “Right. I’ve ordered a more extensive search this time. Cartwright’s having a fit about the resources I’ve commandeered, but we need the manpower — and the womanpower, of course.” He glanced apologetically at Rebecca. “This time the Canine Unit will deploy two search dogs. One will start at the meadow where Jackie shot the unknown man, while the other will try to pick up her trail at the cave. Both dogs will follow the scent on the cot blanket, which I’ve had sealed in plastic. Hound claims she slept under it last night, so the scent should be strong enough for the dogs to get a fix. I’ve also booked a helicopter. Still no sniper, unfortunately.” He sighed.
“Sir, what was a gunman doing in the woods?” Rebecca knew the answer to this, but wanted to hear what he would say.
Sykes shrugged. “The simplest explanati
on is that the syndicate sent him to kill Jackie, although I don’t know why they would get involved. She means nothing to them. My guess is that Kingsley requested it, wanting to eliminate his most dangerous witness. But he’d need to have had support from high up in the syndicate’s hierarchy. He must have reasoned that Jackie would go to the cave, which means he knows about it. Maybe we mentioned it ourselves when we arrested him in the clearing, though I don’t recall anyone doing so. It’s more likely that Jackie told him. According to Constable O’Reilly, she supposedly tripped over an exposed root and shot her husband somewhere near the cave, so maybe she discovered it then.” He looked at Hound, who nodded. “And, of course, we now know that she didn’t shoot her husband accidentally.” He snorted. “Shoddy police work, that was.”
He shook his head. “That sanctum of yours is showing up way too often for my liking, Hound.” He stared straight ahead for a moment. “Getting back to Kingsley McBride, his list of witnesses to eliminate would include Freddie Stafford, his former courier, who’s vanished. That worries me big time. The syndicate might have got to him, leaving no witnesses to testify against Kingsley in court. So that’s another reason why we have to capture Jackie soon and lock her up for good. Then maybe we can convince her to testify against Kingsley. After all, he’s just sent someone to kill her.”
Sykes thumped his fist on O’Reilly’s desk. “The syndicate’s hit man failed, but they won’t stop there. Their image is at stake now. They’ll send another, perhaps several. I’ll tell the highway patrols to watch out for them, but I’m betting they’ll find a way through.” He let out a mild grunt. “Jackie’s incredibly stealthy and clever. She seems to move about at will, probably at night, along back roads or lanes that we don’t have the resources to monitor. If she can evade us, she might also give the syndicate the slip, especially now she’s wise to them. Then again, she might just take them out, like she did the first guy.” He chuckled. “Maybe we should just leave her alone for a month and let her solve the syndicate problem for us.”
“You won’t find her, DI Sykes,” Hound said. “Not without my help. It would actually be better if I went after her alone.”
They all stared at him.
“Not alone, Hound, surely?” Rebecca implored. “She’ll kill you.”
Rebecca saw O’Reilly squirming in his chair. He opened his mouth to speak, then shut it again.
“Alone is best,” Hound stated. “She’ll be sure to try to kill me, which is how I’ll trap her. If you go after her in a large group, she’ll see you coming and fade away. You might run her to ground with your search team and dogs, but she knows the forest well, she’ll elude you.”
“And just how do you propose to trap her?” Sykes’s tone dripped sarcasm.
“I’ll lure her to me, and then I’ll capture her. She didn’t just happen upon that man in the forest. She laid a trap for him. That’s my reading of the crime site. So I’ll do the same to her.”
Sykes leaned forward. “What do you know about a trap? And why didn’t you tell us before now?”
“I wasn’t sure when I first saw the body,” Hound said, “but when I went back again and looked closer I saw what had happened. It was the look of surprise and horror in the dead man’s eyes. He panicked. Before he could think what to do, Jackie’s bullet tore into his chest. I don’t believe he was shot unawares. Jackie wanted him to know he was about to die. I saw the look in her eyes when she shot me in the shoulder. She revels in it. I’m certain that Jackie’s downfall will be her desire to see my terror again, and savour it. To accomplish that, she’ll have to take a risk. She won’t kill me from a distance. She’ll try to do it up close.”
“Dear God, Hound, you can’t be serious.” Rebecca was horrified. “Anyway, the search team will catch her tomorrow, you’ll see.” And why hadn’t Sykes forbid it immediately?
Hound looked at her, expressionless. His mind was made up — she’d seen the look before. Her heart sank. She didn’t want to lose him. He was one of the few real friends she’d ever had.
An awkward silence descended over the room.
Sykes got to his feet. “We’ll start the new search at first light. Sorry, Hound, but it’s up to us to recapture her.”
Hound shrugged.
“Come with me, Rebecca. We’ve got a long night ahead of us.” Sykes’s shoulders were bowed. They were all weary.
“But what about Hound, sir? Who’s going to protect him tonight?” Rebecca said angrily.
“Stay at my place, Hound,” O’Reilly offered. “You can help with our search tomorrow. I’ll deputize you as an auxiliary officer.” He glanced at Sykes, who didn’t object.
“That won’t be necessary. I can take care of myself.” Hound lumbered out of the door.
“Damned if I don’t believe he’s got a point about Jackie,” Sykes said. “But we have a job to do, and time’s wasting.” He glanced at Rebecca and headed out of the office.
Rebecca exchanged anguished looks with O’Reilly. “I thought it was all over when Kingsley and Jackie were caught,” he said. “Now they’re free, and they’re both dangerous in their different ways. I’m not sure which of them I fear the most.”
“I am.” There was no question in Rebecca’s mind. “But it seems Hound is determined to go after her alone, and there’s nothing we can do to stop him. I saw the look in his eyes. I just hope he’s still alive when we catch up with him.”
Chapter Twelve
DS Sykes is still snubbing me, and it’s making me angry. I think I’ll dig into his past. Cartwright says he knows nothing about Sykes’s life before he joined the OPP. I wonder why it’s such a secret?
— From the diary of Rebecca Sarah Bradley (November 15, 2005)
Sunday, September 30, 2007
Hound climbed into his Bentley and sat there, wondering what to do next. Sykes emerged from O’Reilly’s office and stared at him, so he sped off. Nearing his house, he squinted into the bright sunlight and scoured the adjacent fields for any sign of Jackie. Satisfied that he was safe, he went in, straight down the creaky wooden steps leading to the basement and his library room. He needed to think.
* * *
“I’m sorry, sir, but I wanted to spend a private moment with Constable O’Reilly.” Rebecca was furious with her boss. “You heard what Hound said. He’s going after Jackie on his own.”
Seated behind the wheel, Sykes looked straight ahead. This riled her even more.
“Why didn’t you stop him?”
Sykes was silent for a moment. Then he said, dryly, “And just how would you propose I do that? Anyway, he’s right.”
Rebecca was floored. “What? You mean you want him to tackle Jackie Caldwell on his own?”
“No, DC Bradley, but I can’t arrest him, can I? And you saw how determined he was. There was no point in wasting my breath.” He still refused to look at her.
“Yes, I certainly did see him, sir.” Rebecca felt like yelling at him. “You could at least have tried to talk him out of it.” She flopped back into her seat. This was like living through the McBride nightmare all over again.
“Rebecca.” Sykes spoke more gently. “You of all people should understand what it means to lose someone close to you. In Hound’s case, it was Abigail. She had been his best friend since his childhood in England, and Jackie Caldwell murdered her. Is his determination any different from yours? You want to catch Sarah’s killer on your own, don’t you?”
“Hound’s not me, sir,” Rebecca said. “He’s not driven like I am.”
“Don’t be so sure about that,” said Sykes. “He had a difficult childhood. His schoolmates mocked him about his enormous size and his father abused him verbally, if not physically. For some reason, he resented Hound, and sent him off to Canada when he was ten years old. He has ignored him ever since. Wouldn’t that have caused some emotional trauma?” Finally, he turned and looked at her.
Rebecca still thought he was wrong. She gave up — for now. She was sure she knew Hound bette
r than Sykes did. Hound was complicated, but she didn’t see him as someone who would seek revenge. Anyway, she was too shocked at Sykes mentioning her mission. The only way he could know about it was if he’d read her diaries or talked to her father, both of which she doubted. Maybe he was just too damned perceptive. Even more unsettling was his use of her mother’s name — Sarah. Rebecca wondered now how close he had been to her mother. There was a slight catch in his voice, and his eyes grew soft when he said her name.
Sykes was scrutinizing her closely, as though he was guessing her thoughts. She suddenly felt uneasy even thinking about her mother. He added, “You saw for yourself what Hound is capable of when he’s pushed. He might have killed Butch Taylor that time he went after you in the cemetery. You told me yourself that you only just stopped Hound from delivering a blow powerful enough to scramble Butch’s brains. And Constable O’Reilly has described other incidents in which Hound’s savage side showed itself. I can tell you that my own research has turned up an incident in which he attacked two classmates at his school in England when he was only ten years old. It was vicious. The boys sustained broken bones. He’s a dangerous man when provoked.”
Rebecca was appalled. In her experience, he had never threatened anyone who didn’t deserve it. “Sir, none of that justifies allowing him to go after Jackie unaided. She’s a cold-blooded killer, and she’s armed.” Rebecca shivered, and rubbed her arms.
“Okay. You’re right.” Sykes had turned red. “Except that I did not ‘allow’ him to go it alone. The truth is, there’s no way I could stop him. He’ll try to get to her before we bring the search team to the meadow tomorrow. I’ll wager he’s figured out a lot more than we have about where she is. If he picks up her trail, he’ll track her down faster than we can. So, if, and when, we catch up with him, the chase may be over. I just pray that he captures her alive. I need Jackie to testify against Kingsley McBride. Anyway, when all’s said and done, I believe Hound will prevail.”