“Interesting aroma.” Mark mentioned in passing. “What is that Edward?”
“Funny but I don’t smell a thing. Might be incense though. I often light a stick while meditating.”
“Interesting. I hadn’t pegged you for a meditation junkie.”
The dialogue between the two men had more to do with establishing who was “cop” and who was “citizen”. It was well known at the Institute among his immediate and extended family, and certainly his vast array of friends, exactly what Edward enjoyed to relax. He had long ago given up alcohol and most other vices. But Edward would not be drawn into a discussion about something as trivial as his personal preferences in organic refreshment while the matter before him loomed large.
“So, Mark may I assume you’re here about the incident yesterday between the boys?”
“You may. Seems the Van Housen boy wound up in hospital with some pretty severe injuries.” Eagan checked his notepad for details. “Fractured eye socket, broken jaw, multiple contusions and lacerations about the neck, face and scalp. Seems as though he got the bad end of the stick yesterday. Can you explain what happened?”
“I wasn’t there, of course Mark, so I don’t really know. But from what Adam told me and from my chat with the boy’s father, it seems that the boy …”
“You mean the victim, right?”
“No, I mean that rotten kid who had some pretty rough things to say about my deceased wife. I don’t find it that unusual for boys to get in scraps. I know I did as a kid.”
“Yes, I believe Ottawa mentioned a little bit of your personal history. Now, you say you spoke to Dr. Van Housen yesterday? How did that go?”
“We had a civil and frank discussion about conduct and the consequences thereof and agreed that it would be best for the good of all involved if the Van Housen family departed from the Institute and Barrows Bay with all due haste. And we would help him accomplish that through the generosity of our family trust.”
“Yes, I spoke to Dr. Van Housen this morning. He seems to feel as though you threatened him and his family if they didn’t leave. And soon. Any truth to that, Edward?”
“I admit that I told him that any financial settlement would require some immediate action on his part and encouraged him to make arrangements quickly.”
“I see,” said Mark. “So, no threats. None you can remember, is that it?” Constable Eagan knew that Dr. St. James was lying through his teeth. Not that it didn’t matter. It did. But the good Constable was aware of the Van Housen Clan too. He would not miss them. Any of them.
“That’s it precisely. You don’t know me well, Mark but it’s not in my nature to threaten other people. I am very direct on the matter of the consequences of one’s own actions, however.”
“I see. Whose actions exactly? The boy or his dad?”
“Why, everyone’s, Mark. The Van Housen boy said some things that could only have come from one or the other of his parents. Doubt that he just made it up.”
“Could have, of course.”
Edward ignored the comment and proceeded, “Plus there’s the matter of the Van Housen boy bullying other kids and generally making the lives of the weaker kid’s pure misery.”
“Yes, I spoke to the school principal last night. Seems as though there have been some problems at Prep from both the Van Housen children but nothing from any of their past schools. Curious, wouldn’t you say?”
“Bullying doesn’t just suddenly happen one day, Mark. Surely, you’re aware of that. There’s always a backstory to the drama.”
“And your point is, Edward?”
“My point is that the Van Housen family would likely be much happier elsewhere.”
“I see. Well it seems that this will be concluded to no one’s satisfaction, so I’ll take my leave. I’ll send you a copy of my incident report, purely as a courtesy.”
“Why would you do that, Mark? There’s no need for an incident report. We don’t want this hanging over my son’s head. Surely you agree?” Edward’s question was really a declarative statement. Certainly, Mark understood it as such.
“I see a thirteen-year-old boy winding up in the hospital with severe, potentially serious injuries. If Rod and Cindy hadn’t pulled Adam off the Van Housen kid when they did, it might have been far worse. It was your son who did this. I can’t see how I can’t file an incident report.”
“I see. You must, of course, do what you feel is right.”
Eagan said, not understanding where this was going, “I’m glad you understand, Edward. I’m sorry any of this had to happen. I take no pleasure in having to do my duty.”
A lie. Constable Eagan had long disliked both Adam and his Dad. He had read the reports. Something was dreadfully wrong with the both of them.
“On a separate topic, let me be the first to offer my congratulations to you and Julia. We’re really going to miss you both here in Barrows. And Cindy too, of course. A promotion. Very nice. I’m sure you will be happy on your next assignment, which I heard just today will be in Kitimat. That’s far up north isn’t it? Let me walk you out.”
“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Mark knew instantly that this was Edward’s doing and a not so veiled threat. Edward couldn’t do anything to interfere in an official police investigation but he could indirectly influence a different decision.
Mark Eagan was wrong this time. It was Maria’s doing following a brief but candid phone call to the Ottawa detachment of the RCMP.
“Harry just got word last night of your imminent transfer to the Kitimat RCMP detachment. We’re all going to miss you, Mark. We like you. Sorry to see you go. Especially so far north.”
“I hadn’t heard.” Mark wasn’t amused. He already didn’t like Edward and he harbored no illusions about his troubled son either. This news just pissed him off even more.
“I’m so sorry, Mark. I misspoke. Harry did mention that he had had a brief conversation with your superiors in Victoria as well as your CSIS liaison in Ottawa. I think it was Nigel …”
“Covington,” finished Mark. “I see you’ve been thorough, Edward. And mighty persuasive.”
“I’ve had nothing to do with this Mark, you must believe me. Why would I? But Harry did mention he thought this may have been a simple clerical error which could easily be remedied. He suggested, and I emphasize only if you wish to stay here in Barrows, that you give Nigel a call and have a chat.”
“I will. For now, anyway. I’m going to hold off on filing that incident report. Maybe my superiors have a more equitable solution on how we should … proceed.”
“Marvelous, Mark. And thanks. Couldn’t ask for more.”
Mark left Edward’s home in a fury, believing that the only reason for calling Nigel now would be to confirm that he would be supressing the incident report and thereby protecting his job in Barrows Bay. He was livid about the way this had been arranged so quickly and that he had virtually no recourse within or without of the RCMP. No doubt Victoria detachment would go to the mat for him. But not against the wishes of Ottawa, no chance of that at all. Nigel Covington was head of the Federal and International Operations Directorate in Ottawa, and a connected man. Politically, that is. Constable Mark Eagan reported to Victoria on ordinary policing matters in and around the Institute but to Nigel Covington directly on the other more sensitive issues, which included Edward and his Clan.
But this wasn’t the first or only time that the conduct of Adam St. James had come to the attention of Constable Mark Eagan. He hoped it would be the last but knew that it was very likely not. The next time, Eagan thought, that St. James boy is going to do something even more serious. Then he would file that report, come what may.
Chapter 39
Hannah had been working madly and feverishly in her small Portland office, reading volume after volume of newly available materials from the Library. She had been hard at work for months and had not been able to return to her home in Seattle since arriving with Edward
and the initial meeting with Bitsie and Tony. That meeting had been somewhat rocky between Bitsie and Hannah and only limited progress toward rapprochement had since been achieved. Each was cordial to the other but formal meetings took place with Tony in the main conference room to avoid further confrontation and trash talk. Neither lady was willing to take any guff from the other.
Tony enjoyed both ladies, thought highly of each, and could not understand what the friction was all about. Hannah would be leaving eventually for assignment in Europe, so he figured Bitsie should just run out the clock and all would return to normal. When he learned that Portland would be required to provide ongoing technical support to Hannah and her team, he was less optimistic about any projected return to normalcy. The girls just didn’t seem to like each other.
Almost nothing of the text of the Book of Gensarii, other than the chapter summaries, as well as large parts of the Library, had yet been translated. Some was in English and much more could be translated, as the languages were recognizable forms of known languages, alive or dead. More perplexing was the written language nobody on the team recognized. Hannah suspected, from spending extensive periods of time with the Book, that this language must be either the phonetic representation of the Gens Common Tongue or some encryption of it. Either way progress was painfully slow on all fronts for obtaining the mass translation of the Library Edward had initially hoped for.
Specialists would have to be brought in, potentially further enlarging the circle of those who were aware of at least some parts of the Project. Hannah had no idea how Edward wanted to manage this, but she had to report to him soon on progress made and progress expected. Given the sorry state of advancement, Edward would probably not be too pleased.
Certain portions of the Library had been uploaded to the DL Main, Staging One. This meant that only Portland and Barrows Bay had these materials in digital form, which was both good and bad. Good because control over the materials remained within a small circle trusted by Edward, so materials would not leak or be disclosed inadvertently. Bad because the only people who could work on translations, deciphering and interpretation were not qualified to do so. So, given the small circle of worker bees, expected progress could only be very slow. Something had to change and change soon.
Hannah looked at the big clock on the wall, and saw it was almost lunch time, so she decided to go next door to the little coffee shop in her hotel and pick up something quick for lunch. She still had mountains of work to do, but knew she also needed a long run along the River to break up the monotony and boredom. She vowed to get some exercise before dinner for a little change of scenery.
Hannah dressed down for work at the Shop, there being no dress code nor any need for one. Today she was wearing some retro hip hugger jeans, a cute little flowery embroidered peasant blouse from Mexico and some sandals. She looked great but was hardly dressing to impress. These were just what she had been able to find in Portland on her brief visits to the downtown. She had brought nothing of consequence from her Mercer Island condo and missed having all her own stuff around.
Hannah glided through the glass double doors into the usually vacant reception area. Nobody ever visited who didn’t work there, except delivery folk, who were mostly confined to the lobby entrance. So, seeing someone seated on the couch in the office reception area, apparently waiting to be collected, was somewhat unusual. As she approached the reception area, she saw an attractive woman, thirtyish and quite elegantly dressed. Her presentation was crafted and complete, from the sleek, short pencil skirt to the silk blouse, completely accessorized with gold and sparkles to give the impression of comfort and elegance. As Hannah approached, she could see the tops of her patterned stockings, hinting at the garter belt most likely underneath and hidden from view. Sexy, Hannah thought. Probably Tony’s wife, making him a very lucky man indeed.
Hannah spoke first, “May I help you, miss? Are you waiting for someone?”
“You certainly may help me, if you wish,” the woman said smiling. “I am waiting for someone, but I think I’m a few minutes early. My name is Vera. Vera Capri.”
Vera was clearly intrigued by the woman standing before her and was looking Hannah over, top to bottom. She made no effort to hide her visual appraisal and lingered on various aspects of Hannah’s body as if inspecting her with less than honorable intentions.
Hannah was immediately aware of the electricity in the air. She had been looked over many times by men and women and did not find it offensive in the least. Hannah did not mind and sometimes thoroughly enjoyed, a tasteful flirtation with another woman. Her taste in sexual partners had always been, however, strictly heterosexual in nature. Still, Hannah found Vera an intensely erotic and exciting creature, beautiful to admire and feline in her aspect.
“Nice to meet you Vera Capri. I’m Hannah. Hannah Parker.” She extended her hand to see if her touch would be as electric as the tension in the air. As their hands met, Vera used the gesture to rise from the couch and approach her new acquaintance. She was close but not uncomfortably so. Hannah could detect an invitation to something but not what. Not yet, anyway.
“Are you working here now, Hannah? I haven’t seen you around before. New hire?”
“Yes, exactly. Started a couple months ago. Down from Seattle for a while, then I’ll be off on assignment.”
“May I ask what you do here? Something techno, no doubt.”
“No. I’m an anthropologist. I’m doing some work for a research institute. The source materials are here at this lab, so here is where I will be for a while too.”
“So, you’re new to the city then. Portland, I mean? Have you gotten out to explore yet?”
“Can’t say I have. Haven’t had much luck breaking away and taking the grand tour. Been some recent heartache too, so I’ve been hiding out a little bit to be honest.”
“Honestly is occasionally the best policy, so I’m happy to know you are here and very happy to hear that you will be around for a while. Maybe we can get together some evening for dinner. Girl talk. You can tell me all about your broken heart; I’m dying to know and am nosey as can be. What do you say?”
“I’d love to. You can be my guide to all things Portland and the magic of the city.” Hannah reached for a card, handing it to Vera, and said “My personal cell is on the back. Call any time.”
“Any time? You sure?”
“Any time, I’m sure. By the way, who are you waiting for?”
“Bitsie Tolan. Know her?”
“I do, but you might want to not mention me. Bitsie and I are currently oil and water. I don’t think she has much use for me; she thinks I’m pure fluff.”
“Oh, I’m sure that’s not true. But I’m having lunch with her today, so I’ll find out everything. Everything and all the gossip about you, then we can have a laugh if she really thinks you’re a toad. She can be … a little tough and a bit mean sometimes. She’s really a pussycat but sometimes it’s quite difficult to see through the rough exterior.”
Hannah left just as Bitsie was coming into view through the glass partition.
“Bye, then,” Hannah said abruptly and disappeared quickly into an elevator.
Bitsie watch as Hannah departed, then turned her gaze, smiling, in the direction of Vera.
“I see you’ve met the Princess.”
Vera smiled, then said, “You mean Hannah. Yeah, she seems very nice.”
Bitsie frowned. “Yeah, seems that way. Until you get to know her.”
Chapter 40
The next morning Hannah was back at work, in her pint-sized office, deeply engrossed in some immensely mind-numbing diary of a Gens woman who lived in Kansas City, Missouri in the late nineteenth century. It was unclear to Hannah if anything significant would come from reading the volume, but she was gaining some insight into the ordinary life of a transformed Gens woman of status.
Her phone rang, and thinking it was just about time for her daily call with Edward, picked u
p while still mentally focused on the tome whose pages flashed across her computer screen. She answered, but in a clearly preoccupied voice.
“Hello? This is Hannah.”
“Hi Hannah, this is Vera. Vera Capri. We met yesterday in your lobby. I hope I’m not interrupting. You sound preoccupied. And busy.”
“Oh no, I’m glad you called. Saving me from myself. All work … you know. So, what’s up?”
“Well you said I could call any time ...” She paused.
“I did.”
“So, I’m calling to see if I can distract you from work and have dinner with me tonight? Somewhere nice. My treat.”
“Oh yes, please. I need distraction and as much as you can provide. But if we’re going somewhere nice, that might be a problem.”
“Oh?”
“Not much wardrobe here in Portland. Still living out of a suitcase and my little black dress is still hanging in my closet at home.”
“Feel like shopping?”
“Sounds positively therapeutic! Do you have time?”
“The question is, do you have time? I have all the time in the world.”
“I need a break and I’d love to see the city. Can we do both?”
“Absolutely we can. And maybe a little fun afterwards.”
“Such as?” Hannah was intrigued by the very beautiful Vera Capri.
“Such as a surprise for me to tell you all about when you get to my place. And more.”
“And more? So mysterious. No hints?”
“Just one. I had lunch with Bitsie yesterday and got the scoop on you two. Not at all what you probably think but I’ll dish when you get here.”
“Deal. So where are you and what time should I be there?”
“Let’s say two-ish. My address is 101 Chilton Road West. I’m on the eleventh floor, unit 1102. No need to be prompt; I’m always running late for everything.”
“See you around two, then. And thanks.”
“For what?” Vera asked.
“It’s nice to find a new friend in a strange city. You’re very sweet.”
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