by Amber Boffin
Maggie rushed out, taking one last picture of the cabin from outside, thinking she at least had a picture of the body. She glanced at the broken latch on the door. Spotting a big rock next to the entrance, she pushed it with the tip of her hiking shoe. It wouldn’t budge. “Should I close the door?”
“Yeah, we don’t want curious animals. Better close it well.”
Having jammed the door closed with his help, Maggie trotted behind Adam, who had set a fast pace through the woods, ducking under branches and jumping over fallen logs. Maggie tried to keep up with him, peeling off the aggressive blackberry bushes that held her back with their thorns digging into her flesh. They didn’t seem to bother Adam, who cut his way through them, his long legs rising over them like bridges.
Was he really following tracks? Maggie had only seen a few imprints of a large shoe a few meters away from the cabin. They were pointing in that direction, but to her it could simply have been the dead man’s imprints from when he arrived at the cabin.
Adam was like a wolf hot on a scent. He kept his long body bent in half, only stopping a few times to examine a branch. Whenever Maggie caught up with him, hoping to catch her breath, and see what he was looking at, he was off again.
She resolved to take a picture of what she thought might have been his focus, and move on, afraid to lose sight of him. Adam glanced back at her now and then, tilting his leather hat up with his finger. As soon as Maggie signaled that she was fine, he pushed on.
A painful blister on Maggie’s big toe reminded her of the terrain they had already covered that morning. Ted’s hideaway no longer felt as close as Adam had suggested. She stopped, unable to go any farther unless she dealt with her foot. She leaned against a tree trunk, pulling her sock up to wrinkle out the folds in it.
A couple of feet ahead, Adam turned to face her. “We’ve arrived.”
He pointed to a clearing Maggie could barely see if it weren’t for the orange maple leaves lit from behind by the sun-filled open space. She sighed with relief and proceeded to unlace her shoe, expecting to be told to stay where she was. Adam joined her; his tension was still apparent from the swollen vein on his neck. Maggie dropped her boot to the ground.
“What’s wrong?” Maggie flicked her eyes toward the clearing and back to Adam. “I mean, did you find more tracks?”
“That’s the strange thing. I did, but conflicting ones. It seems two people walked on the same route to start with, then one went straight here, and the other took off in a different direction, only a short distance from the cabin.”
“I’m amazed at your skill. I didn’t spot anything.”
“When you know what to look for, you’ll find it. That’s how I follow poachers.” With a thud, Adam dropped his bag next to Maggie. “Keep your eyes peeled, and if you’re worried about anything, just use this whistle.” He handed her a hand-carved whistle he had removed from around his neck. “I’ll get hold of Ted. He’s got a radio.” She raised her eyebrows. “I know, not what you expect from a recluse, but Arthur gifted him one for his safety. I hope it still works.”
Maggie smiled at the thought of Arthur, Adam’s godfather and keen amateur radio operator. She still used his wooden canoe after hers had been destroyed in their boating accident. “How come Arthur knows him? One of his secret acquaintances?”
Maggie was thinking of Arthur’s spy background and that perhaps this Ted had a reason to hide from society. Adam ignored her question and pulled out a large knife from his bag and fixed it to his belt. “Don’t worry. It’s not for Ted. I won’t be long. You’ll be all right?”
Maggie wanted to appear fearless. She rubbed her moist hands on her trousers, pretending to brush dirt away, avoiding his eyes. “You go ahead, nothing will escape me.”
“Don’t forget, in the bush your ears are more important than your eyes. You hear something before you see it.”
Maggie nodded and whisked him off with a flick of her hand. “Go. I’m fine.”
With one last glance back at her, Adam disappeared into the light ahead. Maggie listened trying to isolate his steps from the wind that was blowing in her ears. Just listen. But how can I, with this wind? I trust my eyes.
She let herself slip down to the foot of the tree, slowly peeling off her sock, the pain still nagging her. Having treated her toe as fast as she could, she waited. A crack in a branch startled her. It wasn’t the chipmunk she had just seen scamper alongside her leg—it had to be something bigger. She jumped to her feet, her back against the tree.
*
Adam had reached the center of a clearing where a grass roof hid a wooden cabin beneath it, similar to the one they had just left. The similarity of the build pointed to both cabins having been constructed in the same period and perhaps by the same trappers, only this one had a stone chimney running along the side. Adam walked slowly and whistled a tune.
Through the open window, a copy of the tune was whistled back. Adam waited outside next to a rack of fish drying in the sun. The place hadn’t changed much since he was there during his summer escape in the bush. He always stopped by Ted’s with some supplies whenever he trekked farther north, where a special wolf pack lived.
He had saved the female from poachers as a pup and had since enjoyed a privileged relationship with the pack now that she had become their alpha female. He had always kept her location secret to protect her but also any human who might approach. He was about to make one exception: Maggie. He had intended to introduce her to the wolves as a surprise during this camping trip, but he doubted it would be possible now.
Ted was no longer a young man, and Adam had tried to persuade him to move to the village because his sight was slowly failing him. The door was flung open. It was hard to tell whether a bear or a man appeared in front of him. The matted white hair and beard that stuck out above the bearskin draped around his shoulders gave it away.
Ted let his bearskin drop to the ground with a shrug as he hurried toward Adam, his hand outstretched. He sounded a little out of breath when he greeted him. “Hey, I thought I heard you whistle, but with this wind, it’s hard to tell. And you know, with the hordes of tourists that have heard about the place,” he tilted his head in the direction of the other cabin, “—no peace, ’cause of the cabin. No ghost keeps them away.”
Adam opened his mouth to reply but was left catching flies. Ted continued, his pronunciation slightly affected by his lack of teeth the more excited he got. “Since this online social sharing thing, whatever they call it, they keep coming—” He put his worn hand on Adam’s shoulder. “You said it wasn’t going to be lots. Before you say anything, I admit, I scared some, it was easy. They just took one look at me…” He tapped his hand on his forearm with a whistle and looked down at his bearskin with a smile. “Thought I was a bear.” He paused.
“Don’t bother, that’s not why I’m here. Unless you have something to do with what’s happened there.” Adam didn’t want to tell him about the body, to determine if he had seen it and would volunteer something.
Ted gave a friendly tap on Adam’s shoulder. “Glad you’re here. What’s happened? I did try to get rid of them mice, but they can make a right mess. I’ll clean up.”
Ted held on to Adam’s hand as if he didn’t want to let go as he looked around him, his glazed right eye barely catching up with his other eye.
“Why are you holding me like that? You know?” Adam looked straight into Ted’s good eye, pulling back his hand. “Did you radio in?”
“Know what?” Ted stepped back and picked up his bearskin, swinging it back onto his shoulder in a cloud of dirt and leaves.
Adam sensed Ted was hiding something or pretending he didn’t know about the body. “You always know when someone stays there. No one has come to you for help?”
Ted rubbed his knee. “Nope. I checked the place a week ago, as I have to, repaired the roof that was leaking, but the rest was fine. Haven’t been there since. My knee was playing up, and I was busy with my wood.” He pointed to a
heap of chopped wood. He paused and stared at Adam with concern. “You look serious. What is it?”
“I need your radio. You still have it?” Ted nodded. “Someone died.”
Ted remained surprisingly calm. After a quick glance over his shoulder, as if he were checking whether someone was listening, he asked, “Who? Where?”
Adam was a little surprised. Ted must have been to the cabin and met up with the camper; he always did because he liked checking them out. It didn’t make sense that this time would be different. “At the cabin, a red-haired guy with a beard. Have you really not spoken to him at all?”
“Nah. As I said, I went there a week ago. He must have just arrived. I’ll get the radio…” Ted stopped as he was heading into his cabin. “Dead?”
Although Adam liked Ted, he couldn’t explain why the man would deny having been there. “Yes, but first can you explain how your fresh footprints appeared out of the blue at the cabin? I traced them all the way back here from the cabin.”
Adam pointed to Ted’s worn leather boots. Adam always checked by professional habit the tracks left behind by anyone he encountered when he was in the bush. Ted’s prints left behind a smooth sole with a little mound in the middle from a hole in the leather that had grown bigger over the months Adam had been visiting him.
Ted lifted his foot and tapped his sole with his blackened fingernail. “Anyone can have a pair like mine. It’s been dry, so it’s old tracks. I just told ya I didn’t go there—”
He pushed open the door into a dark, messy room, signaling Adam to wait for him.
Adam knew he had to be patient. Ted could be very stubborn and would be fearful of being accused of anything. Once he closed up like a clam, it was nearly impossible to get him to talk for a number of weeks. It once happened to Adam when he had spotted an illegal trapline. He had concluded it must have been Ted’s, but he wasn’t able to prove it.
Knowing that Ted needed his traps to survive, he wasn’t planning on fining him, which he had the authority to do as a game warden. Instead, he handed the traps back with a stern warning that poachers must have left it behind. He also insisted Ted use it during the open season, with an emphasis on “open.” For several visits after that, Adam always seemed to have missed him by a few minutes, despite calling him over the radio to warn him of his arrival.
Adam was impatient. Ted was moving so slowly that he couldn’t bear waiting longer outside. He followed him in. “Come on, where is it?”
It was dark and smelled like a beast’s den in need of fresh air. Adam’s hat fell down, toppled by drying plants hanging from the ceiling. He bent down to pick it up, knocking over a pot full of acorns.
“I told you to wait outside,” sighed Ted. “If he’s dead, what’s the rush?”
Adam was irritated. “Just find it.” The last time he was up, he hadn’t managed to reach Ted on the radio. “Does it still work?” He pushed the acorns with his feet, no time to pick them up.
Ted wobbled slightly on his feet, looking bewildered. “I think so. Do I need my gun? Did a bear get to him or—”
“No. Looks like poisoning with plants…or something like that.” Adam flicked one of the bunches of dried plants hanging in front of his nose away from his face. He unhooked it from the ceiling. It looked like dried nettles, like he had seen at the other place. “What do you do with this? Eat it? What is it?”
“Drink it. Nettle, some sage…and …I see ya coming…no, I didn’t give any to anyone. And never have. You know that. Blame it on the old fool in the bush, no, no…”
Adam believed him. He had wanted to try some of Ted’s wild-harvested teas, knowing a bit about edible wild plants himself, but Ted had always insisted on serving him old tea bags kept especially for him, he said.
“I believe you. But I still have to call the police now, and it will take them some time to get here.”
Ted nodded. “The air ambulance is enough, no? Don’t like the police sniffing everywhere.”
“Just get me the radio.”
Adam couldn’t see where he would keep it; there was no closet, only open shelves next to the stove, and items ranging from pots and pans to saws hanging on nails against the timbers. No bed, but at the back of the room, as in the other cabin, a ladder led to another level. It was only the second time Adam had come inside; on the previous occasions they had sat outside around a campfire, the weather being nice enough to be outdoors.
As Ted knelt down in front of him next to his table, Adam looked over his shoulder, then was pushed back with a knock under his chin as Ted stood up unexpectedly. “Sorry. Why were you standing over me anyway?” Ted grumbled. “This place isn’t big enough for two.”
Adam rubbed his chin, feeling he had better give him some space. “I just wanted to help… You have a skull like a stone.” He moved his lower jaw to see if it was still hooked. “I’ll wait outside.”
Adam walked out, leaving the door open behind him. Ted slammed it shut with a kick of his foot. I should have thought about it. He doesn’t want me to see where he hides his valuables.
Adam knocked on the window pane to warn he was about to look through it.
Ted had disappeared. The table had been moved. A large plank was leaning on one of the chairs. It had to be a trap door—into a cellar? Adam hadn’t perceived any sign of it when he had looked at the floor. He must have been too distracted by his quest, since he hadn’t noticed the two plates on the table either. Ted’s voice rose from the center of the room. “Coming, coming.”
Adam stepped away from the window, waiting by the door. Ted brandished the portable radio in front of him. He made it look deceivingly light, as Adam found out when he took the metal case from his sinewy hand. Ted’s age remained a mystery to this day, in spite of Adam’s prodding. Living in the bush through the harsh winter season weathered the skin and aged a face quickly. He appeared fit, or perhaps he had taken up the behavior of wild animals, skillfully hiding any sign of illness to avoid being eaten.
Adam flung the lid open. It would be fastest to use police codes to position the case—first that it was an emergency. “Adam Clarkson here, 10-33.”
Raj Gupta, the constable and Adam’s friend, picked up the call and acknowledged, “10-4, go ahead.”
Adam explained the situation with as much detail as possible. Ted nearly sat on his lap as he listened. Adam gave him his irritated look, and Ted leaned back.
“I’ll head back to the cabin to wait for you. I’m with Ted, you know the guy looking after the hut?”
Raj confirmed that his message was loud and clear. “Yes, 10-2.”
“Ted will be in radio contact if need be. He can come to us if there’s an issue. There’s poor radio reception at the cabin.”
Ted shook his head vehemently, pointing a finger at Adam and mouthing, “You, not me.”
“10-2. I’m on it,” Raj replied.
“Over and out.”
Adam put a hand on Ted’s back. “You have to, Ted. I’ll head back to the cabin, you stay here.” Ted was silent. “Unless you prefer dealing with the police when they see the body?”
Ted shook his head.
“I thought so. Once the police arrive, I’ll come back to give you an update. Don’t move if you don’t want any trouble.”
Ted wasn’t listening to him—something had caught his attention. He waved his hand as if he were shooing a person or animal away. Adam couldn’t see anything moving to the right side of the cabin where Ted had been looking. Adam narrowed his eyes. “There might have been another person with this man, and if you’re hiding him or her, you should tell me. You don’t want to get into trouble. A man is dead.”
“Me?” Ted smiled, his tongue filling the front gap in his upper teeth. “Naw. It’s my cat.”
“Cat? I didn’t know you had a cat…”
“For the mice, you know.”
Adam was frustrated. His trip with Maggie was spoiled, he was saddened by the loss of life, now he suspected Ted of knowing more than
he let on, and the man’s stubbornness was extremely irritating—or was he overreacting, seeing things that weren’t there? He raised a finger in front of Ted’s bulbous nose and focused on his good eye. “Just be careful. Answer the radio. You hear me?”
“Yes, sir!” Ted saluted him with a click of his boots.
Adam was in no mood for teasing. He thrust the radio into Ted’s arms. The old man hunched his shoulders forward under its weight.
“Right. I’d better get there before Sergeant Humphries arrives. I can sense he’ll want to poke his nose into this. It’s been so quiet in Foxton… Any shortcut I can take?”
Ted pointed to the west at a tree with a cut limb. “Follow the cuts.”
Adam ran in Maggie’s direction. He could always tell if he was being watched, be it a human or animal. Ted was waving to him to go farther to the right. He raised his thumb in acknowledgement. He had planned to pick Maggie up and join the shortcut when out of Ted’s sight. He hadn’t told him about Maggie and wanted to protect her if Ted was in any way involved with the death.
*
Maggie let out a small gasp at the sight of Adam leaping over a branch next to her. She took two steps in the direction he was heading, ready to flee. Adam held her back. He looked over his shoulder. “Shh, follow me, quietly, I’ll explain.”
Maggie had been on high alert for cracking branches, and each time it had only been an animal walking by. A curious doe had been as startled as she was when their heads nearly touched. She had been sitting upwind from the deer when the doe approached from behind the tree.
Maggie was worried. What had Ted told him? Why should they be quiet? Who were they trying to hide from? She didn’t dare say a word, and became Adam’s shadow, never more than a meter away from him.
They disappeared into the bush.
Chapter Three
Adam stopped and looked around once they had been walking for a short while on a trail Maggie didn’t recognize. “Sorry, I don’t realize how fast I walk. I wanted to be far enough away from Ted to speak to you.”