by Ken Ogilvie
Shorty was on the line, out of breath. “Lukas, why wasn’t your phone on? I’ve been trying to reach you. Sykes is a devil. I don’t want to have anything do with him. Let’s stop tailing him and just tell Hound he’s here.” He gave a garbled account of his run-in with Cartwright and Sykes at Duffy’s.
Lukas cut him short. “Chicken out if you want to, but I’m in for the duration. So Sykes is scary, huh? All the more reason to watch him. I just met with Archie MacDougall for a ‘wee chat’ in the cemetery. He warned me to stay well away from Sykes.”
“I told you. Take Archie’s advice. I’m going to.”
“Suit yourself, but I’m not going to let some two-bit detective from Orillia frighten me off. I’ll keep you posted. I’m heading to Hound’s house to wait for him. Meet you tomorrow at nine.”
“Okay, but if I see Sykes anywhere near Duffy’s, I’m out of there. Understood?”
Lukas ended the call. He would throw in his lot with Hound, his chosen leader, danger or no danger. He hurried to catch up with Sykes.
When he reached Maggie’s house, Sykes stopped and stared at it for a long while. Lukas jumped behind a hedge and peered at him through the leaves. Sykes turned and ambled back with his head down, apparently deep in thought.
Once Sykes was a safe distance away, Lukas hurried to Hound’s place. When he got there, he jumped onto the front porch and pounded on the front door. All was silent. He settled into a reclining chair to wait.
Chapter 26
Jonathan has called me every day since he went back to Orillia. I’m trying to be discreet, but I’m sure some of my classmates have figured it out. I need to cool things off for a while; he’s so intense and I need to concentrate on my studies. I have my mission to fulfil.
— The diary of Rebecca Sarah Bradley (2003)
Rebecca, Hound and O’Reilly drove to the mine site. They saw no signs of development. All around them were abandoned buildings and rusted equipment. It didn’t make sense.
They got back to Conroy late in the evening and went directly to Hound’s house. Someone was lounging on the porch, appearing fast asleep.
Hound got out of the car. “Lukas! What are you doing here?”
Lukas rubbed his eyes. “Waiting for you, what else? Where’ve you been? Haven’t seen you since Thursday.”
“Never mind. Why are you waiting for me?”
“Because there’s a whole lot of stuff happening in town. There’s some detectives from Orillia here, one of them’s a guy called Sykes. He’s skulking about Conroy searching for Rebecca, and you.”
Hound and Rebecca looked at each other. Hound sighed. “Lukas, I have some things to tell you. Can you stay the night? Then I’ll want you to run an errand for me in the morning. There’s something I need to have checked out in Orillia. Use my roadster, I know you’ve been itching to take the Midget for a spin.”
Lukas broke into a happy smile. “You bet!”
* * *
Rebecca dropped O’Reilly off at his house and went on to Maggie’s. The house was dark and silent. She tiptoed through the hallway and started up the stairs.
A voice boomed out from behind the dining room door, and the hall light came on.
“Gotcha!” yelled Freddie, making her jump.
“Come take your medicine, lassie,” Archie hollered.
“Scheming rotters,” Rebecca quickly retorted, and continued towards her bedroom, her heart pounding.
“Where’s my broom?” Maggie bellowed from the kitchen, and a burst of raucous laughter brought Rebecca to a halt at the top of the stairs. Her tormentors were gathered down below.
“Get yourself cleaned up and down here in five minutes for leftovers, or you’re washing the dishes,” warned Maggie.
Rebecca pulled a contrite face. “Yes, Mum, but I’ve already had dinner.”
“Dessert then, and no arguing,” Maggie shot back.
Four and a half minutes later, Freddie and Archie sat watching Rebecca devour a generous slice of blueberry pie. Then Archie leaned under the table and came up with a bottle of scotch.
“Payback time.” His leathery face creased in a grin.
Rebecca broke into a smile, then groaned inwardly as she recalled the morning after their previous whiskey night.
Settled in front of the fire, Freddie spoke first.
“Baker Street Irregular Freddie, reporting in. Not much to tell. Everyone’s spooked by the second murder. The townsfolk are clamming up. The CIB detectives have them rattled. The head honcho — can’t remember his name — seems to terrify everyone.”
“Sykes,” Rebecca said.
“What?”
“His name is Sykes. Detective Inspector Sykes.”
“Right. Two detectives are helping him, going door to door. Looks like they plan to interrogate the entire town. Sykes spent the day with the superintendent — name’s Cartwright. They parted company in late afternoon. The big cheese went back to Orillia, I think.”
“Anything else?” Rebecca winced at the mention of Cartwright. She’d turned her cell phone off, and he would be having a fit by now.
“No, except . . . This might be important, I don’t know,” Freddie said.
“Go on.” Rebecca edged forward.
“It may mean nothing, but I saw a black limo cruise through town at about five this afternoon. It passed by Stan’s Hardware while I was stacking shelves. I only caught a glimpse, but I’m sure it was the car I saw in Orillia. Remember?”
“I do. Very interesting. Anyone else see it?” Rebecca glanced around.
Archie nodded. “Aye, t’was like Freddie told ye. The big car drove straight through town and out t’other end at five sharp. Three men in’t. Didn’t get a good look at ’em.”
“That’s all from me,” Freddie added.
Rebecca turned to Archie. “What about you? Anything to report?”
“All I’ll say is guard yerself against the chief detective, but ye’ll already understand that, I reckon.” He eased back in his seat.
Maggie sat up. “Conroy’s a snake pit, and Rebecca knows it. You do too, Archie. And Freddie, you’ve lived here for seven years. Haven’t you cottoned on to anything suspicious?”
Freddie broke into a fit of coughing.
Rebecca prompted him. “Maybe you should ’fess up, Freddie. Perhaps you know more about what’s going on than Maggie thinks you do.”
Freddie cringed. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Rebecca responded tersely. “Silence won’t save anybody now.”
“What’s in this for you?” Freddie blurted out angrily.
Rebecca’s eyes smouldered. “What’s in it for me is finding the person who murdered Abigail and Herman before Sykes does. He wants to stop me joining the CIB but I’ll get in, whether he likes it or not. How’s that?”
Freddie scowled. She noticed he hadn’t touched his drink.
“What’s next, Rebecca?” Maggie said.
“You. But just things that might be linked to the murders, please, or we’ll be here till Christmas.”
“Right.” Maggie straightened. “Now let’s begin with some juicy bits, but don’t y’all go round town telling tales. They’re for Rebecca to use in her investigation, if she wants.”
“Thank you.” Rebecca gave her a grateful smile.
“First of all,” began Maggie, “Jackie Caldwell, who I understand has taken a dislike to Rebecca, has been having a long-standing affair with Kingsley McBride. I’ll bet none of you knew that. I guessed it, and then checked with Daisy Plum, the town’s official grapevine. McBride’s a careful bugger. It took me a while to figure it out, and I can’t for the life of me understand what he sees in Jackie. For sure she’s no beauty. And why did he marry Abigail? She was as gentle as a lamb.”
Rebecca nodded. “There’s a story behind Abigail’s murder, and I believe it might have roots that spread much further than Conroy.”
“What do you mean?” Freddie shouted, startling her. “What
are these so-called roots?”
Rebecca gave him a cool look. She stood up. “Okay, everyone, I think that’s enough group talk for now.”
But Freddie persisted. “What are you up to?”
Rebecca frowned. “Freddie, I’m conducting a homicide investigation. I’ll be arranging separate interviews with each of you.”
Archie nodded, his voice calmer. “Aye, Constable Bradley. I’ll bide a while out back, if ye want to continue our talk, on or off the record.”
“Thanks, Archie. Now would be great.” Rebecca smiled at him.
Maggie added, “As for me, I’m always ready to chat.”
“Thanks, Maggie.” Rebecca turned to Freddie, who lowered his eyes. She gave him a hard stare. “And you?”
He hesitated. “I have things to do. Tuesday would be fine.”
“I can’t wait two days, Freddie. I’ll talk to you tomorrow.”
Freddie leapt from his chair and headed for the stairs. “We’ll see about that!”
The remaining three exchanged puzzled looks. Then Archie cackled. “Aye, things are startin’ to heat up in the old town.” He threw back his head and drained his scotch.
“Okay, Archie,” Rebecca said. “Meet you at the chair near the back fence. I’ll just grab my notebook and join you in a couple of minutes.”
He rose to his feet and headed outside. Rebecca went upstairs and crept along the hallway, stopping briefly to listen outside Freddie’s door. He was talking quietly to someone. She lingered for a few seconds, but couldn’t make out the words.
She went to her room and got out her notebook. Then she remembered that Cartwright had been in town today and she was supposed to brief him. He’d be furious. Cursing, she turned on her cell phone. Cartwright had left several messages.
She hurried out back and found Archie sitting on a deck chair, smoking. “Hi, Archie. Mind if I make a call? I’m overdue to brief Superintendent Cartwright, and I’ll have to email him an update on my investigation. We could talk tomorrow, first thing, if you prefer.”
“No need. Take yer time. Come back when yer ready. Not goin’ anywhere. Be right here, enjoyin’ the light o’ the moon, as I do on fine summer nights.”
“Thanks, Archie. I’ll be as quick as I can.”
Rebecca hurried to her room. Cartwright answered on the first ring.
“Rebecca! Where in the devil’s name have you been all day? I waited in Conroy until four, and then I had to get back to Orillia.”
“I’m sorry, Jonathan — I mean, sir. I was exploring the countryside, working on the McBride case. My phone didn’t work out there, so I turned it off, and forgot to switch it back on until now. I apologize for not calling you. It slipped my mind, with all the frenzy around the new homicide.”
“A feeble excuse,” he grumbled. “Just what were you up to that took so long? And why did you leave town during the Vogel investigation?”
“I’m not on that team, sir. But I’d like to be. Could you talk to DI Sykes about it?”
His tone was frosty. “You should’ve been there, and you know it.”
“I’m sorry, Jonathan. I was wrong.”
“So it’s Jonathan now, is it? What happened to ‘sir’?”
“Sorry, sir, it won’t happen again.” Rebecca rolled her eyes. Boy, was he ever in a nasty mood.
“Now tell me what you were doing. Who was with you?”
She sighed inwardly. “How do you know anyone was with me?”
“Sykes said you’ve been spending time with a local man, someone named Hound. Who is he?”
“I was with Constable O’Reilly and Hound. His full name is Thaddeus Hounsley. We were checking out the site of a suspicious land speculation deal and an abandoned gold mine. Both might be linked to the McBride homicide.” So that was it. He was jealous.
“And your joyride with this Hound character was more important than calling me?”
“I was pursuing a new lead, sir. I’m supposed to find out who killed Abigail McBride, remember?”
“And that, Constable Bradley, is because I did you a huge favour. Don’t you remember? Oh, and by the way, Sykes is heading up both investigations from now on. You’re reporting to him. And before you ask, you can remain in Conroy until Sykes tells you to return.” Rebecca suddenly felt ill. This was bittersweet news, at best.
“Please, sir,” she said shakily. “I still need your help on the McBride case. I’m making progress. I know I can solve both homicides, if you just give me a chance. Did you have to put me under Sykes?”
“He heads up the CIB, Constable Bradley. Who did you think you would report to?”
Rebecca paused. Time to cool things down. “Sorry, sir, you’re right. I’ll be pleased to work with him. Thanks for putting me on his team. Does that mean I can help investigate both cases?”
“Yes, of course — under his direction.”
“I look forward to it, sir.” She felt even worse. She dreaded having to work under Sykes.
Cartwight’s voice became gentle. “Now, Rebecca, tell me what you did today.”
She inhaled slowly. Crisis over. “I checked on O’Reilly. He was badly shaken by your threatened dismissal.”
“Indeed.” Rebecca pictured him smiling. The rat.
“I felt sorry for him, sir, so I offered to look at the land speculation area and the mine site with him. O’Reilly asked that Hound go with us.”
“Hold it right there, Rebecca. What has land speculation and mining got to do with the McBride case? And why involve this Hound joker?”
She gave him Hound’s ideas about the two deaths.
“So Herman was linked to Abigail McBride, and Hound knew both of them. Interesting. Tell me more.”
About time too. She sighed. She told him the whole story, emphasizing Hound’s belief that Abigail had committed suicide. She asked to have a forensics team sent to check out Herman’s house, but a year had passed since her death, so vital evidence may have been lost.
Cartwright began to splutter. “Abigail did not kill herself, it’s out of the question. You know that. You read the coroner’s report. But if what you just told me is even halfway to the truth, we could be close to a breakthrough. You haven’t told any of this to Sykes?”
“No, sir. I’ll send my report to him tomorrow. I’ll email it to you tonight.”
“Do that. I’m sure he’ll be pleased to know how far you’ve progressed on the case.” Rebecca pictured him clapping his hands in glee.
“Actually, he’ll be furious,” she said.
Cartwright roared with laughter. Then he lowered his voice. “Rebecca, I miss you. We had such fun. Can’t we get together again?”
“Time to sign off, Jonathan.”
“Good night then, Constable Bradley.” Cartwright hung up.
He rang again immediately. “But who exactly is this Hound character? Tell me more about him.”
“Fill you in tomorrow, sir.” She snapped her cell phone shut. He wouldn’t call again. He was too proud for that, but she feared what he might do to Hound as a person of interest in the McBride case, and possibly Herman’s death too. Cartwright might also view Hound as a rival for her affections, which wasn’t true, but his jealous streak was coming through too strongly during the call.
Chapter 27
Freddie sat up in bed and tried to calm down. He was shaking uncontrollably. What if he went to prison? Terrible things happened to men like him in there.
He slid out of bed, opened a cupboard drawer and took out the cell phone Kingsley had given him for emergencies.
After two rings, he heard Kingsley’s familiar drawl. “Yes?”
Freddie put a folded handkerchief over the phone to muffle the call. “Trouble.”
“That you, Freddie? Speak up, I can barely hear you.”
Freddie removed the cloth and spoke in a low voice. “I said, we’re in trouble. That detective, Rebecca Bradley. She’s wise to your scheme. She wants to interview me tomorrow, on the record. I don’t know what
to say.”
Kingsley was silent for a few seconds. “Okay, Freddie, this is what you have to do. You must disappear for a while.”
“Are you crazy? They’ll think I murdered Herman. Let’s just tell the police about Perez’s involvement in the land deal. It was him that killed poor Herman, wasn’t it? Must have been. This whole thing has got way out of control.”
“Slow down, Freddie. Take it easy. You’ve done nothing wrong, and neither have I. Nobody’s going to find out anything they can use against us. The police will investigate, but I’ll make sure they find nothing. By the time you get back, I’ll have erased all traces of your involvement. You’ll be clean. You’re not a murder suspect so they can’t stop you from leaving town.”
“I don’t like it, Kingsley. I don’t like it at all. It won’t work. That detective knows I’m involved. I told her there might be some kind of land speculation going on. Uh . . . I also told her Marco Perez was in Conroy.”
“You did what?” Kingsley spluttered. He looked up. Perez was standing over him, listening.
Freddie tried to backpedal. “There’s no need for you to get upset. I just said something might be going on.”
Kingsley’s voice turned steely. “Freddie, you have no choice. Perez has stated emphatically that he doesn’t want to be exposed. And now there’s more detectives in town. That’s why you have to get lost for a spell. Don’t panic. Perez knows how to deal with situations like this. Pack your things and leave now, before the others get up. Perez will pick you up at three a.m. on Main, near Maggie’s house. He’ll take care of everything.”
Freddie’s heart sank. What an awful mess. “I don’t want anything to do with that bum,” he whined. “Can’t I just stay here and ride things out? I’ll tell the police whatever you want, I just need to know what to say.” He lowered his voice. “Archie MacDougall — the other guy who boards at Maggie’s — he’s sitting in the backyard now, waiting for Rebecca Bradley to interview him. I think he’s wise to the deals. Maybe he’s even spying on us, he’ll tell her everything. Anyway, don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to. I read your papers before I ran them to Hamilton.” Oh shit, why had he said that?