by Alex MacLean
From the backseat of the RCMP Suburban, Audra asked, “What’s he do in the meantime?”
“He’s a full-time veterinarian.”
Beside Audra, Denis tittered. “Oh, Jesus.”
“Don’t let that scare you,” Logan said. “Raines is trained in forensic science and crime-scene processing. He’s thorough. Very professional.”
“Oh, no doubt,” Denis said. “It’s just that when you said that I was wondering if he ever mistakenly gave you autopsy results from Fido.”
Logan glanced at Allan with a confused expression, and Allan shrugged.
Logan said, “Um...it hasn’t happened yet.”
“Good,” Denis said. “Good.”
Allan looked at the dash clock: 2:18 p.m. He set his watch back three hours to coincide with the time change.
They drove southeast on 95A. The highway cut through lush green foothills carpeted with spruce trees. Far off in the distance, mountain peaks traced the horizon. They were impressive to see but even more impressive to see from the plane on the way in.
Allan noticed a sign alongside the road displaying eleven kilometers left to reach Cranbrook.
“Where’s Kimberley?” he asked.
Logan jerked a thumb over his shoulder. “Back that way about twenty kilometers. You missed the sign at the end of the airport road.” He smiled. “I caught you dozing off. The airport is kind of in between the two communities. Raines is in Cranbrook. That’s why we’re going there first.”
“I see. But you work out of the Kimberley detachment, right?”
“Yeah, five years now. Before that, I spent eight years in Vancouver. That’s a completely different animal, let me tell you. Kimberley is a vacation compared to Vancouver.”
“I bet,” Allan said. “Is this the first homicide at the nature park?”
Logan nodded. “First one, all right. Hopefully the last.”
He took an off-ramp that connected to the 95. Allan could see the first buildings of a community.
“Welcome to Cranbrook,” Logan said.
The road led past malls, car dealerships, and burger joints. Logan turned left at a set of lights onto Victoria Avenue and then promptly swung into the parking lot of a Husky gas station. He took out his cell phone, punching numbers on the keypad.
“Dr. Raines,” he said. “We’re in town... Awesome... See you in a few minutes.”
Hanging up, Logan said to Allan, “Raines will see us.”
He pulled the Suburban into traffic and headed down Victoria Avenue again. Allan saw more malls and dealerships, a few banks. Eventually, the road led into a residential area of houses and apartment buildings.
At another set of lights, Logan turned left and followed the hill up Second Street toward the East Kootenay Regional Hospital.
They found Dr. Raines in his office.
In his early sixties, he had a grandfatherly face with a bald and rough look—shiny bald head and a close-trimmed beard peppered with white.
“You have three with you,” he observed, getting up from his desk. “Three detectives, I presume?”
Logan nodded.
“All out of the same department?”
Logan indicated Allan and Audra. “These two are from Nova Scotia.” He gestured to Denis. “He’s from Ontario.”
Raines slowly moved his gaze to each face. “All interested in this one homicide?”
Allan said, “We’re checking for similarities with other cases we’ve been looking into.”
Raines nodded. “Corporal Scott told me that.”
After formal handshakes and introductions, they got down to business.
“I haven’t finished my report,” Raines said. “It’ll be next week.”
“Have you determined cause of death?” Audra asked.
“He was strangled.”
“Ligature?” Allan asked.
Raines shook his head. “A bar-like object pressed forcibly across his throat. Here, let me show you the contusion.”
He took out his digital camera and scrolled through the photos. Finding what he was looking for, he gave Allan the camera.
“I took those before the post-mortem,” he said.
The photo on the LCD screen showed a close-up of a bruise across the victim’s throat. Allan showed it to Audra and Denis.
“No pressure abrasion,” Raines explained. “No furrow in the skin. When I dissected the neck, I found severe damage to the structures. The larynx and cricoid cartilage were fractured. That tells me considerable force had been applied.”
Denis asked, “What object do you think the suspect used?”
“I’ll hazard a guess that it’s a hiking pole. They’re pretty commonplace at the park.”
“Were there other injuries?” Allan asked.
“Blunt-force trauma to the back of the neck. Fractured nasal bone.” Raines took the camera from Allan and began flipping through the photos again. “Here.”
As Allan looked at the bruise across the back of the neck, he felt a flutter in his gut.
“Look at this,” he said, showing it to Audra.
Her eyes lit up. “Whoa.”
Denis leaned in. “What is it?”
“Bruise,” Audra said. “Where have we seen this before?”
“Ted Taylor,” Denis said. “It’s almost identical.”
Logan asked, “Who’s that?”
“A victim in one of the unsolved cases we reviewed,” Denis told him. “He was murdered in Rushing River Provincial Park.”
“When?”
“Four years ago.”
Allan added, “The ME in that case suggested the weapon used had likely been a hiking pole or walking stick. The suspect had struck Taylor across the back of the neck, probably to stun him first.”
Raines said, “That’s what I figured happened with Guillaume Mills. The suspect clubbed him on the back of the neck and nose before strangling him. How was Ted Taylor murdered?”
“Drowned,” Allan said.
Crossing his arms, Logan winced. “Christ.”
Allan continued to flip through the photos on the camera. He slowed at the ones showing the hands. The fingertips were still there.
Logan asked, “How many of these unsolved cases did you review?”
“Twenty, twenty-one,” Audra said. “We picked out six maybes.”
“Maybes?”
“Cases that could be related to ours.”
“And how many do you have of your own?”
“Two,” Audra said. “Denis has two as well.”
“That’s ten. This would make eleven. One man behind them all.”
Allan glanced up from the camera to see Logan tipping his head side to side, as if weighing the odds.
“Think it’s unlikely?” Audra said.
Logan shrugged. “Don’t know. Anything’s possible.”
“Look at McGray,” Allan said.
Audra nodded. “Michael Wayne McGray.”
“Where do I know that name?” Logan said.
“He’s from Nova Scotia,” Audra said. “Asserts himself as Canada’s worst serial killer. He was convicted of six murders but made claims to have killed a lot more right across the country.”
Logan nodded. “I remember now. He had investigators in Vancouver pulling unsolved homicides after he said he’d murdered two prostitutes there in the nineties.”
“That’s him.”
Allan handed Denis the camera. “A knife was McGray’s weapon of choice,” he said. “Not the guy we’re after. He doesn’t like it messy. He’s also not sexually motivated. Like McGray, the thrill of the murder seems to be his motivation.”
“Didn’t McGray prey on homosexuals, prostitutes?”
“Mostly.”
“Easier targets.”
“That’s where our guy differs,” Allan said. “We think he’s physically active. A jogger. Hiker. He must blend in with everyone else at these parks, because no one has taken notice of him.”
“One,” Audra corre
cted.
Allan thumbed his ear. “Huh?”
Audra gave him a half smile. “Liam Clattenburg.”
“Oh shit. Yes. Him.”
Logan perked his chin up. “You have an eyewitness?”
Audra said, “We had a guy approach us about a man he saw the morning our second victim was murdered. We don’t know if it’s the suspect or not. We have yet to locate him. But this possible witness agreed to do a composite.”
“Did you bring copies?”
“Yes,” she said. “I’ll give them to you.”
“Awesome.” Logan looked at Allan. “Have you guys reviewed any unsolved cases in BC?”
Allan shook his head. “We didn’t want to overwhelm ourselves, so we limited the search to Ontario and the Maritime provinces. Just to see what was out there. And we looked specifically at unsolved murders that had occurred in parks.”
“You’re thinking that’s his target area?”
“Seems to be. If, of course, we are looking for the same man.”
Audra asked Raines, “Any evidence of sexual interaction?”
“No signs to suggest any,” he said. “I took swabs and scrapings, but it’ll be weeks before I hear back on the results.”
“What about hypostasis?” Allan asked. “Was it consistent with how the body had lain?”
“One hundred percent,” Raines said.
Logan added, “We determined Mr. Mills had been murdered in the lookout area then dragged into a stand of trees, some twenty-five feet away.”
“We have similar suspect behavior in some of our cases.” Allan checked his watch: 3:16 p.m. “What time’s sundown?”
“Around six thirty.” Logan looked at his own watch. “You want to head up to Kimberley Nature Park?”
“We’d like to see the crime scene before dark.” Allan flicked his gaze from Audra to Denis. “Are you guys satisfied with everything here? Any other questions for Dr. Raines?”
Audra frowned, shook her head. “I think we covered everything.”
“I’m good too,” Denis said.
“You can always call if you think of questions later,” Raines said. “Corporal Scott has my number.”
“Thank you, Doctor,” Allan said, extending his hand.
Raines gave it a firm shake. “My pleasure.”
After Audra and Denis exchanged good-byes, the four of them walked outside into the bright afternoon sun.
Crossing the parking lot to the Suburban, Logan said, “There’s some rough sections of ground at the park. Did you all bring appropriate footwear?”
Allan nodded. “I brought my sneakers.”
“Me too,” Audra said.
“I only have these Oxfords,” Denis said. “I wasn’t planning on going on a nature hike when I flew down to Nova Scotia.”
Logan appraised Denis’s feet. “What’re you, about size ten?”
“Yes.”
“I have a pair I can lend you,” he said. “We’ll swing by the house before we leave town. I live right here in Cranbrook. Oh, and we’re going to have to pick up some bottled water.”
33
Kimberley, October 28
4:49 p.m.
Logan led the way up a steep hillside, across the top of a field covered in golden grass, and into dense woods where the bushes moved in to hug the trail.
Audra found the walk in the crisp air invigorating. She especially enjoyed the impressive views of the valleys and mountains surrounding them. On the way back, she told herself, she’d take a few photos to show Daniel and Daphne.
“The park is mostly maintained by volunteers,” Logan said. “They’ll replace signs that fell off trees. Clear any deadfall blocking the trails and cut it up into firewood. People collect it to use in their stoves and furnaces. That’s why you don’t see any lying around.”
“The crime scene is quite a ways in,” Audra noted.
“Two and a half, three kilometers.”
At the back of the line, Denis said, “My body disagrees with you. It tells me it’s more like ten.”
Looking over her shoulder at him, Audra raised an eyebrow at his peaked complexion. She’d heard him huffing heavily after thumping up the slope of the first hill, but he’d kept going, not even stopping once to take a sip from his water bottle.
“Hey,” she said, “you okay?”
He waved it off with a shake of his hand. “Pfft, I’m fine. Wait until you get my age. I have a good twenty years on y’all.”
“Were you ever a smoker?” Logan asked.
“Nope. Age, I think. I’m sixty-two. Plus, these extra pounds I’m carrying in the old bread basket don’t help.”
“Maybe you should’ve waited with the vehicle,” Allan said.
“And what, miss all the action?” Denis gave a light chuckle. “Don’t think so.”
“It’s not far now,” Logan assured him. “We’re almost there.”
Denis said, “Wasn’t there an easier route?”
“Easier, yes. Shorter, no. If we came in on Higgins Street, we’d have less of a climb but a longer walk. I’m talking at least two more kilometers.”
“Shit. How’d you get the body out?”
“Airlifted it.”
“Ah, there’s an idea. Why didn’t we bring the chopper up here?”
Logan’s laugh echoed in the trees. “No place to land it.”
“Great.”
“Look on the bright side,” Logan said, tossing him a smile. “The way back is mostly downhill.”
“Ha, good thing.”
The trail intersected with another, and they decided to take a brief water break.
Logan pointed up a path. “Scene’s just through there. Myrtle Mountain Viewpoint.”
Audra noticed a sign on a tree that read, Mountain Mine Road.
She looked around, trying to picture the suspect prowling these trails. Had he encountered Guillaume Mills entirely by chance, or had he known Mills would be here? According to family members, Mills was an avid mountain-bike enthusiast who had come to the nature park hundreds of times. Saturday would be his last ride through this vast wilderness.
As she screwed the cap on her water bottle, she caught Denis’s eyes.
“I’m getting old,” he said.
She noticed the sweat beading on his bald head. “You going to make it?”
“Oh, I think so. There’s no better way to find out just how out of shape you are than to do something like this.”
Logan said, “Hills will do that.”
Denis cleared his throat and spit into the bushes. “The first one was the worst.”
Logan nodded. “Sunflower Hill.”
“Got its name because of sunflowers?” Audra asked.
Another nod. “Come here in April or May, and the hill is covered in them.”
“Nice,” she said.
She looked over at Allan. Shoulder against a tree, he quietly sipped his water. He appeared pensive and troubled. Audra could almost hear the machinery grinding away within his brain.
She noticed how dissociated and irritable he’d become as this investigation trudged along. She knew he blamed himself for imaginary oversights in the Mary Driscow case. Now he was putting additional pressure on himself to find her killer before her father died.
And to intensify his torment, none of them knew if they were getting closer to hearing those metal bracelets click on the suspect’s wrists or further away.
“Shall we continue?” Logan said.
Denis groaned. “We better. If I stop for too long, I might not get started again.”
They headed up Mountain Mine Road.
Audra looked off to both sides of the trail. The slender pines were packed tightly together, almost chokingly so. She caught sliding glimpses of blue sky through the shifting trees. Except for the sounds of their footsteps, the woods were silent.
In minutes, they reached the overlook, and Audra found herself gazing out at the mountains, bright gold under the lowering sun. A crisp breeze wh
ipped up from the valley, and she zipped up her jacket.
Near the edge of the overlook, someone had built a convenient makeshift bench by crisscrossing stacks of firewood for the legs and using skinned poles for the seat. Denis made a beeline for it and sat down. He was breathing heavily. Audra wondered if he’d be able to make it back.
“We just released this area this morning,” Logan said.
“Where’d you find the water bottle?” Allan asked.
Logan led them to a spot in the grass about fifteen feet from the bench. “Right here,” he said. “We never found anything else. No blood. No signs of even a struggle. But it rained here Sunday and overnight Tuesday.”
Audra said, “This spot must get a lot of foot traffic.”
“Oh yeah. People come up here for the view.”
It was easy to see where SAR had found the body; remnants of barrier tape still clung to the trees. Audra spent a few minutes looking inside the grove where the body had lain, picturing it there from the crime-scene photos she’d studied on the drive to the park.
She turned to Allan, who was taking notes. “What do you think?”
“Similar behavior,” he said.
Audra agreed. “Think it’s the same guy?”
He clicked the pen and closed his notebook. “Not a hundred percent. But I’m leaning.”
“Me too,” Audra said. “Too many similarities.”
For a moment, they shared a cautious look, then they walked over to where Denis sat.
“Are you going to live?” Allan asked him.
He chuckled again. “Afraid you might have to piggyback me down?”
Allan smiled. “It has crossed my mind.”
“Don’t worry about me, Detective.” Denis pointed off to a cluster of buildings in the center of the valley. “What’s that town out there?”
“Marysville,” Logan said.
“Looks bigger from up here.”
“It’s not much to drive through. If you blink, you’ll miss it.” Logan leveled a finger toward a large valley off to the east. “That’s the Rocky Mountain Trench over there.”
Denis’s eyes shone. “Beautiful vista.”
Allan said, “It’s the first thing you’re drawn to when you come out here. Makes me wonder if Mr. Mills was looking out at it when the suspect struck him from behind.”