by Ken Ogilvie
Chapter 22
Cartwright decided to check the crime scene at Herman’s Fuel Emporium. He and Sykes set off in his car.
“What do you make of all this, Sykes?”
“All what, sir?”
Cartwright waved a hand at the miserable streets. “This town. What else? Two homicides that even your crack team hasn’t been able to solve. What’s going on? There must be a link between these deaths.”
“The second murder just happened, sir. And anyway, the first one was your investigation. But let’s forget that and consider the motives. Money? Love? Hate? Revenge?” Sykes shook his head. “I should have taken on the McBride case last year. I was busy then, as you know, but I’m here now. Something in this town doesn’t smell right. I think I’ll stay awhile and see what I can dig up.”
“Yes, yes, go ahead. I want both cases solved. That fool O’Reilly got in my way last year. I’ve kept him off the Vogel homicide. He’ll be gone soon, so you won’t have to put up with him.”
Sykes held up his hand. “Actually, sir, I want him around. He might prove useful. I’ll let you know when I’m done with him.”
Cartwright bristled, but said nothing.
They arrived at the crime scene. Sykes hurried off to speak to his detectives while Cartwright stood beside his car. Absently, he stroked the scar on his cheekbone. He hoped Sykes would fail to solve Herman’s murder. Better still would be if Rebecca cracked the McBride case and found a link with Herman’s death. That would take the celebrated DI down a notch or two. He was sure Rebecca was right — Sykes had set him up last year.
But he could do nothing about it, not while Sykes had that damned Sword of Damocles hanging over him. He stroked his scar again. Only Sykes knew the truth — that the scar he so proudly bore was self-inflicted. During the shootout he’d run away to hide. Rather than confronting the criminals, Cartwright had in fact tripped up as he scuttled away, and only Sykes saw him shoot himself. It was all a clumsy accident. Afterwards, not only did the bastard keep quiet, he actually put Cartwright forward for a Medal for Police Bravery. Cartwright accepted, and still Sykes didn’t say a word. The medal had done wonders for his career, but Cartwright lived in constant fear that someday Sykes would use his knowledge to ruin him.
Sykes returned to the car. “We should go back to O’Reilly’s office, sir. I need to know what Constable Bradley has found out while she’s been in town.”
“DC Bradley, actually.” Cartwright managed to look Sykes in the eye.
Sykes returned his gaze. “Acting DC. And not for much longer. After she gives her briefing, I’ll take over the McBride case. I won’t need her anymore.”
Cartwright shuffled his feet. Rebecca would have a fit. He was beginning to regret the offer he’d made her. He looked at Sykes. “Can I ask a favour? Would you mind keeping her on the case? I went out of my way to give her this opportunity.”
Sykes gave him a piercing look, then he shrugged. “Okay, but she’ll be reporting to me.”
Chapter 23
Jonathan called again, every day for the past week. It took me half an hour to get rid of him this time. I need to study for my exams and he seems totally insensitive to my needs. I think I made a mistake in getting involved with him.
— The diary of Rebecca Sarah Bradley (2003)
Hound and Rebecca stood side by side in the dim light of the cave, waiting to hear what O’Reilly had to say.
Rebecca gave an impatient sigh. “Out with it, chief.”
O’Reilly ran his tongue over his lips. “Okay, here goes. I’m involved in a land development deal a few miles north of Conroy. Housing, shops, recreational facilities, a complete new community in fact. Kingsley McBride, Mayor Charlie Taylor, and Herman Vogel are part of the scheme — well, Herman was. But McBride’s the main player. When I got caught up in it there wasn’t anything illegal going on, as far as I could tell. Then the whole thing turned bad. A crime boss named Marco Perez got involved. McBride brought him in without consulting Herman or me, or even the mayor. I would’ve opposed it if I’d had the chance, believe me. I was horrified when I found out, but what could I do?” He shook his head. “Kingsley should never have gone near him. After Perez came on board, there was no backing out. At least, not without getting myself in really hot water.”
Rebecca said, “Why would anybody want to start a development near Conroy? There aren’t many jobs. Orillia and Midland are the closest cities of any size, and both of them are more than half an hour’s drive away.” So her suspicions about O’Reilly being involved in something nefarious were well founded. The thought saddened her.
“There’ll be lots of jobs soon, good ones too. There’s an abandoned gold mine a few miles north of Conroy. Kingsley has known about it for some time. He told me he could’ve developed it a decade ago, but the price of gold was too low to make it viable. Now the gold price has risen, so he got hold of a big shot in the mining industry and set up a partnership.” O’Reilly glanced at Rebecca.
Rebecca’s face went white, and she swayed on her feet. Hound grabbed the oak stool and helped her sit down.
O’Reilly spoke softly. “It’s true, Rebecca. McBride’s mining partner is your father. I didn’t make the connection until I recalled your family tragedy. I read about your mother’s murder many years ago. I should have guessed who you were when I heard your last name and saw your glitzy car and chic clothes. But I still don’t understand why on earth George Bradley’s daughter would become a policewoman?”
Rebecca shook her head. “Maggie lived in Prospect. Archie was there too, and I had no idea. Twenty-five years ago my grandfather launched a dodgy goldmining venture near Conroy. And now I learn that my father is Kingsley’s partner on the very same mine! I don’t know what’s going on.”
There was a long silence. Water trickled somewhere deep inside the rocks. She sighed. “Don’t worry, I’m okay. Let’s just get on with it.”
Hound looked at O’Reilly. “Let me guess, chief. Kingsley McBride offered you a share in the land deal on condition you stay mum and help him keep it secret. Right?”
O’Reilly nodded. “Close enough. He recruited me a few months before Abigail died, and before Perez showed up. He didn’t offer a share in the deal, just money — quite a lot too. That’s what got me hooked.”
“And Herman? Was he brought in at the same time?”
“No. He’d been involved for a considerable length of time.”
Hound nodded. “He was a major source of funds.”
“Yes. How did you know?” O’Reilly gave him a puzzled look.
“Despite appearances, Herman had access to big money. And I know where it came from.”
“Six million dollars,” said O’Reilly. “With a promise of more to come, so Charlie Taylor told me. And McBride put up his own money, a fair whack I believe. I still don’t know where it came from. He’s only a local accountant.”
Hound looked from one to the other of them. “I have an idea of what’s going on, and why.”
Rebecca looked up. “Tell us.”
Hound’s forehead wrinkled. “There are some things I haven’t told you yet.” He gave Rebecca an apologetic shrug. “I believe Kingsley found out long ago that the gold mine had commercial potential. He already had the rights to it when he went to the Netherlands. While he was there, he set up a partnership with Nicholas van Rijn, Abigail’s father, to help finance the mine and land deals. He also fell in love with Abigail, who was then named Marijke. Or maybe he just fell in love with her father’s money.
“The man Marijke was having an affair with was Herman Vogel. When her parents found out, they tried to stop it. He was a second cousin, twenty years older than Marijke, and he owed them money. They coerced him into rejecting Marijke and sent him to Canada to look after their subdivision investment, and especially to keep an eye on Kingsley. He moved to Conroy and bought the old gas station with money the van Rijns gave him to make him look legitimate. Marijke, now Abigail, knew about the station,
but not the mine or the subdivision deal, which were the real reason for his presence in Conroy. Until she ran away from Kingsley, that is. As for Herman, he wasn’t a strong man, but he had a kind heart and he loved Abigail. He wanted to be near her, even if he couldn’t have her for himself. That’s why he agreed to work for the van Rijns and move to Conroy.”
Hound looked at them. “Kingsley needed someone with mining expertise, so he went to George Bradley, the goldmining magnate. Hence, the Bradley connection. The mayor and Chief O’Reilly were brought into both deals because Kingsley knew they’d find out anyway. Better to have them on board.”
O’Reilly stared at the ground. “That’s what I used to think. Now I realize I’ve been a complete idiot. I never knew any of this.”
Rebecca patted his arm. “Don’t blame yourself, chief. How could you know? But I’d like to hear more about why Perez was brought aboard, and the nature of his involvement with Kingsley. You sure you can’t help with that?” And if he could help, she thought, then he was in even bigger trouble than just taking a bribe.
“Sorry,” O’Reilly said, and eyed her suspiciously. “I really don’t know how Perez got brought in. I don’t know what arrangements they made, but I do know Perez is involved in money laundering. By the time he showed up, it was too late to back out. At first I thought everything was legitimate. There’s nothing wrong with opening a mine, or developing land. I just figured Kingsley was keeping everything under the radar to prevent other speculators moving in.” O’Reilly lay back on the cot and put an arm across his face.
Hound took up his story. “Last year, Abigail found out what Kingsley was up to, and about Perez. She decided she’d had enough. She approached Herman for help and he took her in. Then she found out about his role in the deals and his business links to her family. Devastated by his betrayal, she hanged herself. At least, that’s what Herman told me, and it makes sense.” Hound blinked back tears.
Rebecca frowned. “It still sounds thin to me, Hound. The autopsy didn’t find any evidence to suggest suicide. What’s more, there’s no way anyone could possibly find gold near Conroy. It’s too far south of the rich veins embedded in the Canadian Shield. The geology around here isn’t right, unless there’s some sort of anomaly that I don’t know about. I’ll ask my father about it. Anyway, I shouldn’t be interrupting you. Please go on.”
Hound swallowed. “Then you came to town. When you spoke to Herman, it’s my guess that all of his bad memories about Abigail resurfaced, along with his grief and shame. He might even have decided to go to the police and confess. If so, and if Perez found out, maybe he got one of his thugs to murder him. All just speculation, but I can’t think of any other explanation.”
“Even if that were true,” Rebecca said, “I still believe an important piece of the puzzle around Abigail’s death is missing.” She stood up. “At least you’ve given me a clear direction for my investigation.”
“Our investigation.” O’Reilly’s voice rang out. He was his old self again.
Chapter 24
Late on Sunday morning, Lukas sat across from Shorty in a corner booth at Duffy’s.
“Where’s Hound?” asked Lukas.
“Don’t know.”
“Oh very helpful.”
Shorty ignored the dig. “I’m worried, Lukas. Hound’s disappeared. I went to his house yesterday and knocked on all the doors, but there was no answer. I left messages and haven’t got a response. Maybe he’s on one of his retreats.”
“Good point. You’re making progress.”
But Shorty wasn’t listening. His thoughts had turned to Herman. He wondered who would want to kill him, and why. He knew it couldn’t have been robbery.
“We need to find Hound,” said Lukas.
Shorty nodded. “Where can he be?” He paused. “I know. At his cave, I’ll bet.”
“Maybe, but where is it? He’s never taken me there.”
“Me neither. But it’s in the bush just north of here.” Shorty waved his hand.
“Okay. So what should we do until he shows up again?”
“I don’t know. What do you think?”
Lukas leaned forward. “I’m thinking we should find out what the police are up to and let Hound know. That head detective guy is a real shifty-looking character.”
“Yeah? So?”
“His name is Sykes. I overheard his detectives yesterday, yakking about Rebecca. The big one said Sykes was going to stop her getting transferred into his branch. Maybe they’re jealous. Anyway, we know Hound adores her, so it’s up to us to protect her.”
“OK,” said Shorty. “Let’s get to work. We’ll split up and meet here every day at nine to compare notes. Be careful not to get caught. Call me if you see or hear anything important.”
Lukas went out and Shorty settled back in the booth to mull things over. Lukas was right. They had to help Hound, but they should tell him what they were doing. He knew Hound better than Lukas did. No way would he sit still after Herman had been murdered. He was up to something, and Shorty wanted in on it.
Just then, Cartwright and Sykes walked in, ordered coffee and sat down. Shorty slid deeper into his booth and kept his head low. Maybe he’d learn something right now. That would show Lukas.
Luckily Sykes spoke loud enough for Shorty to hear. “Where’s Constable Bradley? She’s not answering her phone. And I can’t find O’Reilly either. They must be together.”
“I don’t know where she’s at, but she’s due to brief me.” Cartwright sounded vexed. “I’m worried. It’s not like her to disappear like this. I told the boys to let me know when she turns up. I have to return to Orillia this afternoon.”
“No problem,” Sykes declared. “I’ll take her briefing.”
Cartwright cleared his throat. “I don’t know about that. I’m having second thoughts about this case. I think I was hasty in passing it back to you. I’ve been handling it myself, and I gave Constable Bradley the lead, under my direction, of course. I think she should keep it.”
“You assigned it to her without consulting me,” Sykes said. “And if the second murder is linked to the McBride case that makes it active again. Bradley can’t handle an active case. I’ll send her back to Orillia to do research. Chad and Hadi can take care of things here.”
Cartwright said nothing.
“Well?”
“All right, if you must have the case.” Cartwright sounded angry. “But I insist that Rebecca stays here. She’ll report to you. If she hasn’t returned to Conroy by the time I leave, she can brief you. But the minute you find her, I want to be told. And I expect you to give me a full update tomorrow morning. Understood?”
“Yes, sir. Although I do it under protest,” Sykes replied.
Sykes changed the subject. “Tell me about Hound.”
Shorty’s ears pricked up.
“Who?”
“There’s a man in this town they call Hound. He was close to Abigail McBride and Herman Vogel. Chad told me this morning that Constable Bradley interviewed him on Friday. She sent Chad an email last night to let him know about it. You didn’t mention him in your investigation notes from last year, and I’m wondering why.”
Cartwright cleared his throat again. “Rebecca hasn’t mentioned him to me. Who is he?”
“A local lad, that’s all I know.”
“Find out more about him and keep me posted.”
Cartwright caught sight of Shorty leaning towards them. He slid out of the booth and stormed over. “Who the hell are you?”
The coffee shop fell silent.
Sykes came to stand beside Cartwright.
“I said, who are you?” Cartwright’s face was flushed.
“Shorty Davis, sir. I come here all the time.” He shrank back in his seat.
“Eavesdropping.” Sykes yanked a notebook from his pocket. “Full name, address and phone number.”
Shorty remained silent.
“Now!”
Shorty gave him the details in a quive
ring voice.
“I will speak to you later.” Sykes snapped his notebook shut and marched off, Cartwright trailing after him.
Shorty watched until the door slammed shut behind them. Then he called Lukas.
Chapter 25
At four o’clock sharp, Cartwright climbed into his car and drove out of Conroy. Lukas peered through the library window and saw DI Sykes watching the car disappear. Then he turned to the library, and Lukas quickly backed into the bookshelves and remained hidden for a full minute, before leaving the library and proceeding with trepidation along Main. As he was passing one of the stores, he heard a familiar voice.
“Lukas Walker, I’ll have a word wi’ ye.” Archie MacDougall was leaning against a wall, smoking a hand-rolled cigarette.
“Hi, Archie. Haven’t seen you in a dog’s age. Thought you’d left town.”
“No, laddie, keepin’ my head low, in a manner o’ speakin’. But let’s no’ waste words. Step wi’ me, where we can gab in peace.” He nodded at the cemetery.
Lukas reluctantly agreed. The cemetery always set him on edge. He turned off his cell phone in case it disturbed the dead.
Archie halted by a gravestone and peered around. “I saw ye snoopin’ on that detective, Sykes. Guard yerself, laddie. He’s no’ one to fool wi’.”
“I’ll say. He spotted me watching him from the library, I’m sure of it.”
“Just guard yerself, and stay away from him.”
“I can’t. He’s searching for Hound. He’s got it in for that lady cop too. Rebecca.”
“Then things ha’ gone too far already.”
Archie strode away.
Lukas stood where he was, confused and more than a little afraid. What was that all about? And where the hell was Hound? Something strange was going on in Conroy, and Hound and Rebecca were in the thick of it.
Lukas rubbed his arms and scurried away from the cemetery. He came out onto Main, and immediately caught sight of Sykes. He ducked into a used clothing store and hid behind a rack of women’s dresses, then peeked out and watched Sykes trailing Archie, a block behind him. Lukas left the store and followed the detective, powering up his cell phone as he went. It rang at once, making him jump.