He stood up and steadied himself on the counter, sick to his stomach. He’d seen plenty of blood in his life, mostly his own, but this was different. Where he stood now Mike Barnes had last stood alive.
“You OK?” asked JP.
Cole said nothing. He saw the door to the bathroom open and well-dressed Mike Barnes walked in. He saw him step into one of the bathroom stalls and flush the toilet. He heard the throaty sound of the flush. Barnes stepped to the mirror to examine himself while he washed up. Then the bathroom door opened. Or did the assailant hide in the other stall? Cole could not know. Wherever it came from, the attack was swift. A piece of drill steel or a baseball bat, swung hard and wide. The bathroom was large enough that a man could swing a bludgeon at full arm’s length. Had Barnes turned at the last moment to ward off the attack? Had he seen the attack coming and tried to defend himself? Or did it happen so quickly that he was clubbed in the side of the head and dead before he hit the floor? His head connected with the ground with such force that blood from his wound, and from the new one made where he hit the ground, sprayed around the wall under the counter. Cole opened his eyes.
“You OK?” JP asked again.
“I’m OK,” he said. “Just a little light-headed.”
“I got you a Band-Aid,” said JP and handed Cole a couple of butterfly bandages. Cole ripped one open and applied it to his chin.
Mike Barnes had been killed in this bathroom. Cole could see that plainly. What he could not see was the face of the man, or woman, who had done the deed.
“You ready to go?” asked JP.
“Sure,” said Cole, and turned to leave.
They walked back to the stairwell and passed Barnes’ office.
“Hold on a minute,” Cole said.
“You fixing to get me fired?”
“Just a second,” Cole said, and poked his head into the office. “Nice face,” said Tracey.
“Thanks for the Band-Aid.” Cole tried to muster a grin, but couldn’t. “Listen, how long has the one stall been out of order in the men’s room?”
Tracey looked at him, thinking. “I don’t know. About a week.”
Cole said, “Seems like a long time to go unattended.”
Tracey shrugged. “No men left on this floor,” she said, her eyes reddening.
“Right,” said Cole. “See you.”
“Bye,” she said, and returned to the papers on her desk.
They stepped out of the building into full sunlight. To the west Cole saw clouds piled high over the mountains, above them a bright blue sky. The kind of day when Cole missed living in Vancouver.
“Where’s your car?” asked JP, squinting in the sunlight.
“Right over there.” Cole pointed at the Toyota.
“Seen better years,” said JP.
“Haven’t we all?” said Cole.
“This place sure has,” said JP and looked around.
Cole nodded. “Let’s go for a drive.” He said it on impulse.
“What, you and me?”
“Why not?”
“You really are trying to get me fired. Look, if Henderson saw us driving around I’d be out on my ass. I’ve got three years to go until retirement, and I need this job to put enough away to get by in my golden years.”
Cole looked at the ground and kicked a stone. “JP,” he said. “Can I call you JP?”
“It’s my name.”
“JP, I’ve got a little problem with the official version of events from the night Mr. Barnes was killed.”
The watchman was silent. He squinted at Cole.
“First, I don’t believe that Dale van Stempvort killed Mike Barnes. You probably think, of course I’m going to defend him.” Cole waited for JP to say something, but he was quiet. Blackwater continued, “I don’t know who did it, but I’m convinced of Dale’s innocence. I also don’t think that Barnes was killed in the mill.”
“Where do you think he was killed?”
“I’m not sure,” he lied, “but it wasn’t the mill. No doubt you found him there, but he wasn’t killed there.”
“What’s that got to do with us taking a drive?” JP asked warily.
“The cops say you saw him alive after my meeting with him.”
“Yeah, he was in his office. I walked by and said ‘Evening Mr. Barnes’ and he said, ‘Evening JP.’ Same as most nights.”
Cole nodded. “Then you found him on your rounds. I want to know what might have been going on around here before you came across Barnes.”
The watchman looked up at the red brick office building. “If Henderson sees us, my ass is grass.”
“I hate to tell you this, JP, but this mine isn’t long for the world, and it ain’t us environmentalists you need to be worried about.”
“You’re bullshitting me.”
“I wish I was. Look, the company isn’t going to dig another mine. Not right now. Maybe in five or ten years, when the price of coal makes it worth their while. What they are going to do is string this town along until they get their permits, sell lots of stock or trust units or what have you, and then take their money and run. Run straight to Indonesia or Brazil or wherever they can dig without having to pay you union wages.”
“Or worry about your ducks.”
“That too.”
JP sighed. “OK,” he said. “Get in.”
They drove the route that JP made once every two hours throughout the night, a wide circle around the outside of the mine, slow but steady, so that the guard could shine his flashlight into windows and look between buildings. At this time of the day he stopped from time to time to chat with someone. After making the sweep of the perimeter, JP drove between the buildings.
“Why are you doing this?” the watchman asked Cole.
“Doing what?”
“Well, sort of sticking your nose where it doesn’t belong.”
“You mean, trying to find out who killed Mike Barnes?”
“Yeah. I mean, it’s not going to bring the man back to life.”
“No, but another man’s life is at stake.”
“We don’t hang ‘em in Canada anymore.”
“Twenty-five years in prison and you might as well.”
“Fair enough.”
“There’s also the fact that Barnes’ death is going to make it pretty hard for my colleagues to save Cardinal Divide. Public opinion runs against convicted killers, and Dale, like it or not, is part of the gang trying to stop the mine.”
“You said it’s not long for the world anyway.”
“Yeah, but it’s going to destroy Cardinal Divide before it’s done.”
Cole regarded the security guard. He figured him to be in his mid-fifties. He was trim and neat and close-shaven. His left arm, injured years ago, was thinner than the right, but he looked strong and capable, steady. There were a thousand men like him in the community: regular, everyday guys who watched hockey on Saturday night, took their kids to practice at six in the morning, spent evenings in the basement woodshop, worked for thirty-five or forty years and retired. Went fishing.
“There’s another reason,” said Cole.
JP looked at him.
“It’s people like you,” he said.
“Oh,” said JP, slowing the truck and looking between two buildings. “And what do people like me got to do with it?”
“You deserve a future. You deserve a future that is dignified. When this mine closes, then what? Are you going to work at McDonalds?”
“We got a Wendy’s too,” said JP, smiling. “I got options.”
“You deserve real options. All your life you’ve been told that mining is what this community is built on. And there’s no doubt about that. Mining is what built this community, and what sustained it for the last fifty years. But mining is not its future. The world is changing, and this town has to change too. You’ve been backed into a corner by the Hank Hendersons and Mike Barnes of the world.”
“What’s that got to do with solving this murder?”
>
“Everything, and nothing I guess.”
“Speak plainly, man.”
“Well, it’s got everything to do with this town’s future. I believe Mike Barnes was killed because he was here to engineer the closure of the mine. If I figure out who killed him, this town might have some options. If Dale goes to prison, and the company continues to pull the wool over Oracle’s eyes, then the mine will close and your options will be few. Cardinal Divide will have a hole in its side, and yahoos on ATVs will be using the haul road and rail line to get into the wilderness up against Jasper Park. But if we can prove that Dale didn’t kill Barnes, and in fact someone else did because of Barnes’ plans for the mine, then maybe folks around here will wake up in time to remake their future. One way or another, things are going to change. The question is, will the people working in the mine today be a part of that change, or will they be observers, left on the sidelines?”
“Nice speech,” said JP, and waved to some men coming off shift. “You said there was another theory about why Barnes was killed.”
“A skirt.”
“That will do it to you every time,” said JP. “Look, we’re coming up to the mill. What do you want me to do?”
“Just what you did before finding the body.”
“It’s a little different during the day.”
“Well, can you do what you do at night?”
He looked at this watch. “Shift is just ending, so I think I can.”
He drove the truck up to one of the sets of doors, left the engine running, and stepped out. Cole looked at his watch. JP fished a set of keys from his pocket and unlocked a box on the wall, opened it, and flipped a switch. He then stepped to the doors, unlocked them, and pulled them open. As the doors swung open, the darkness inside the mill was illuminated by the headlights of the truck. JP pegged the big doors down with long bolts that anchored into the cement pad that led to the doors. He stepped back into the truck. Cole looked at this watch again. “About a minute,” he said to himself.
“It’s not a race,” said JP.
“I know, but timing is important.”
They drove into the mill, toward the coking ovens, in a wide sweep through the building. Cole looked at the speedometer. Dead slow: 5 km/hour.
“You always drive about this speed?”
“Yeah, inside I do. Can’t hear anything if you’re going faster.” Cole noticed the big building was very quiet without the mill operating.
The back wall of the mill came into view and there were the double doors leading to the storage area. Cole saw the pallets of bits and steel.
“Where were you when you saw Barnes?”
“I didn’t see him at first. I saw the pallets knocked over.” JP
stopped the truck. “I was right about here.”
Cole’s heart quickened. The lights of the truck shone squarely on the double doors. “Were the doors opened or closed?”
“Closed.”
“What did you do then?”
JP left the ignition running and opened the truck door. Cole did the same. He followed JP as he crossed the twenty yards from the truck to the pallets. The RCMP officer was gone, but the tape was still up. “I was about here when I saw the body. It was lying on the ground in a heap, with bits all around him. I couldn’t see who it was at first, but it wasn’t no mill worker.”
“How did you know?”
“No coveralls, no hat.” JP stepped to the tape. “I got to here and knew it was Barnes. The nice shirt. Man always dressed like he was going to a wedding.”
“Or a funeral.”
“Right. Anyway, I saw him crumpled on the ground and ran over. There was a small pool of blood, but not too much really. His eyes were wide open so I knew he had to be dead. I radioed the RCMP from the truck. Cells don’t work out here.”
“You obviously didn’t see anybody else around?”
JP shook his head. “No other vehicles. I told the RCMP that there were no other vehicles parked in the main lot or around the mill.”
“Where did they get the idea that there was an S10 on the property that night?”
“Not from me.”
Cole made a note to follow up on that. “And you didn’t hear anything?”
“Nothing.”
“JP, my friend, I think you are a lucky man.”
“Oh, and how’s that?”
“Well, I’d bet my left arm that when you found Mike Barnes’ body right there, the person who killed him was on the other side of those doors.”
“After you called the police, what did you do?” Cole leaned against his Toyota. He and JP were parked side by side outside the gate at the entrance to the mine.
“Once I was certain he was dead, I drove here to wait for the RCMP. It took them about forty minutes to get here.”
“You didn’t see anybody come or go?”
“Not a soul.”
Cole was silent. Then he said, “Is there any other way in or out of the property?”
“Sure, plenty. But they’re all locked.”
“Who has keys?”
“Well, lots of folks do. Too many to count, really.”
Cole sighed deeply. “I better get going.” He looked at his watch. It was after seven. “I appreciate your willingness to show me around.”
“Mike Barnes was hurting the working people around here,” said JP. “There used to be three of us on night duty just a year ago. We covered the property once every half hour, instead of once every two hours. But he cut two of the posts right away. Those fellas are on pogey now. I don’t have any love lost for Mike Barnes, but the man didn’t deserve to die like he did.”
Cole considered that. “If anything else comes to mind, give me a call, OK?” He handed JP his card with his cell number scribbled on the back.
“Will do. Take care. Watch out for Henderson.”
Cole nodded. He’d be watching Hank Henderson for sure.
It dawned on him as he drove back to town that Mike Barnes’ decision to cut the night watchmen from three down to one may have cost him his life, or at least let the killer get off scot-free.
As he drove to Oracle he mulled over what he head learned and what to do next.
Mike Barnes was killed in the washroom on the fourth floor of the office building. That meant that someone transported the body from the office to the mill. That someone almost certainly had to have keys to the building unless, of course, they had lifted Barnes’ keys and used them to open the mill building. Were Barnes’ keys accounted for? Another thing he would have to look into.
How did the assailant get off the mine property? That was less mysterious. Though he didn’t know for certain, Cole guessed that whoever had the keys to the mill had keys to every other gate on the property. How they drove their car off the property without being noticed was another question all together.
Hank Henderson loomed large in his contemplation. He touched his tender chin. Quite the temper on the man. Hair trigger. Certainly capable of the sort of violence that ended Mike Barnes’ life. Hank Henderson clearly wore his motivation on his sleeve. He had enough heavy mining paraphernalia lying around his office to beat a marching band to death. The only thing not clear to Cole was whether he had opportunity. Where had Hank Henderson been one week ago tonight?
Cole Blackwater had played his own hand. He told Henderson to his face that he suspected him of murder. If Henderson were the killer, then Cole Blackwater had better watch his back. Hadn’t Henderson said as much?
He drove on as the day waned. He was weary. At this point in the campaign, energy started to drain and it took all his strength to persevere. But persevere he must, he thought, looking around him at the hills and rolling stands of forest. Behind their veil were wild things like the mother grizzly and her cubs he had seen from the crest of Cardinal Divide. As he always had, he would persevere not for his own salvation but for theirs.
He was lost in that thought when his cellphone rang.
“Blackwater.”
“What happened to ‘Webber’?” he chided.
“That was yesterday.”
“I have a hard time letting go,” he joked.
“I know. Listen, can we meet? I’ve got some news for you.”
“Me too.”
“Well, get in line.”
“Where?”
“My place. It’s safest. Just make sure George Cody doesn’t see you.”
“I’ll be there in half an hour.”
“Good.” She hung up.
He went first to the liquor store and bought a decent bottle of red wine. Then he drove to the Rim Rock and sat in his truck on the street, checking the parking lot and hotel for any sign of George Cody. It didn’t look like George was around the hotel. He grabbed the bottle of wine and made for Nancy’s room.
“What took you?” she asked, and let him in.
“Had to return the favour,” he said, and handed her the wine.
“Don’t think that because I drink this that I’m drinking it with you,” she said, with a half smile.
“I wouldn’t dare.”
She opened the bottle, poured herself a full glass, and put the bottle down on the table between them.
“Don’t think that because I’m helping myself that I’m drinking with you,” he said, pouring a glass for himself.
“I’m not even paying attention,” she said.
“What have you got?” Cole asked, and sat back in the chair.
“It’s been quite a day,” she said.
“Tell me about it.”
“You just sit there and shut up and drink the wine you’re not drinking with me.”
“Right-ee-o,” he said, finishing the glass and pouring more.
“So it’s been a big day,” Nancy started again. “I wrote a profile of the town for tomorrow’s paper. Had a very interesting conversation with the president of the Chamber of Commerce. He struck me as an ambitious man. Seems to think that mining, as they say, is in everybody’s future.”
“Yeah, we met. Quite the booster. Old school. He said the same thing to me.”
She smiled. “I know you met. He asked to see my press credentials. I haven’t had that happen since, well, ever I guess. Smith stuck me as one of the people most likely to run for office.”
The Cardinal Divide Page 26