by Garry Ryan
“We have the testimony of one man implicating Dr. Jones. We also have evidence from the plastic wrap on Jennifer’s body. dna tests should connect Dr. Jones to the murder. We came to let you know that we caught the doctor at the border last night and he’s in custody.” Harper opened his hands on either side of his coffee cup.
MaryAnne shook her head. “So James had nothing to do with it?”
“James was telling the truth,” Lane said.
MaryAnne got up. “He’ll need to hear this. I’d better get to the hospital.”
×
“I’m sorry. I should have realized.” Lane talked on his cell from a coffee shop on Kensington only a few blocks from Andrea and Madeline’s house on Oxford Street. He looked across the table at Harper, who was frowning.
“What’s happened?” Harper sat up straighter, wincing from the after-effects of yesterday’s collision.
“Can you call me back in five minutes?” Lane nodded and closed the phone.
“Madeline and Andrea are surrounded. Reporters. Porno dentist father, car-stealing partner, mother in rehab, and a murder. That’s a week’s worth of news,” Lane said.
“At least.” Harper put down his coffee cup and looked at his watch. “You said that Maddy and Andrea needed a lawyer.”
Lane looked closely at Harper.
“Sometimes you talk to yourself.” Harper lifted his cup and raised his eyebrows. “I was only dozing in the car last night. I heard.”
“Why were you looking at your watch? Were you thinking it’s time for lunch?” Lane thought, We’ve been working together long enough that we just know what the other is thinking.
“I was thinking about a particular restaurant,” Harper said.
Lane thought, Of course you were!
“But first, what are you going to say to Madeline?”
The phone rang.
“Maddy?” Lane asked.
×
Lane pulled up across the street from the Jones’ home. In front of the house, reporters lounged under the trees next to the sidewalk. When he crossed the street, the microphones appeared.
He made his way to the gate and turned to face the various media outlets.
One woman checked her lipstick in a compact mirror. A man brushed his hair while running his tongue across his teeth.
Lane looked over his left shoulder to see reporters appearing from behind the house. He walked through the line of cameras onto the street and waited for them to turn in his direction. Now, when their backs are to the house, Lane thought.
“What can you tell us about the crimes committed by Dr. Joseph Jones?” the female reporter asked.
“He has been arrested and will appear in court.” Lane saw Harper’s head appear around the back of the house and then disappear.
The reporter rolled her eyes as if to say, “We know that! Tell us something we don’t know!”
The male reporter smiled at his competition’s frustration. “Apparently, Dr. Jones is to be charged with the murder of Jennifer Towers, whose body was found within a block of this house.”
Lane smiled back. “He is to be charged with murder, that’s correct.” He watched Harper appear and wave at him from behind a Colorado blue spruce.
The female reporter shook her head. “Are you aware that Mrs. Jones, the doctor’s wife, died of heart failure half an hour ago?”
Lane thought, Oh no! Madeline and Andrea haven’t heard yet. “No, I was not aware.” He turned and walked to the Chev. As he turned on the engine and pulled away, he wondered what he was going to say when he picked up Harper, Andrea, and Madeline at Pages Books on Kensington where they were scheduled to meet.
×
Lane and Harper walked into the Vietnamese restaurant three hours later. The man they were looking for sat at the back, where he could see every other patron as well as outside onto the street separating Chinatown from the federal building.
The man with the white hair looked up from his bowl of soup. Rice noodles and a thin slice of rare beef hung from his chopsticks. He set the noodles back into his bowl, waved the two detectives over, and waited.
They sat down on either side of the man, who was dwarfed by the detectives. Their body language implied deference.
“Detective Lane. Detective Harper.” The man waited.
“Uncle Tran, we have a favour to ask.” Harper squeezed his hands together.
“Are you hungry?” Uncle Tran asked.
“Yes,” Lane said.
“It’s difficult to talk on an empty stomach.” Uncle Tran waved at the waiter. “Order first.”
Uncle Tran steered the conversation away from serious matters with questions about their families and responded to queries about his extensive familial connections until two steaming bowls of soup arrived.
Lane’s mouth watered as he looked at the noodles, cucumbers, tomatoes, and beef in coconut milk and satay broth.
Harper took his spoon and sipped broth. His eyes closed. His head leaned back as the pleasure of the moment overtook him.
“You mentioned a favour?” Uncle Tran set his chopsticks down and reached for a cup of tea.
Lane said, “We have two sisters. One is almost eighteen and the other is in kindergarten. The father is being charged with murder and other offences. We got news a few hours ago that their mother died this morning.”
Uncle Tran nodded. “This is the dentist who killed the young woman?”
Harper said, “Yes.”
“What are the other offences?” Uncle Tran set down his cup of tea.
“It looks like he’s part of a child pornography ring and has a partner who used the dental office to launder money from stolen vehicles,” Lane said.
“And the children need a lawyer? That is the favour you are about to ask?” Uncle Tran watched the detectives intently.
You’re way ahead of us, Lane thought. “Yes and the children will need a good one because of the circumstances their father has placed them in.”
Tran smiled. “I’ll speak with Tommy. As you know, he has considerable experience in these matters. Are you enjoying your meal?”
“Of course. Now tell us more about Tony, Rosie, Jay, and Cole,” Harper said.
Tran laughed. “There is much to tell.”
×
“You promise to stay in touch?” Alexandra asked as she stood at the entrance to us customs.
“I will.” Christine had been quiet for the entire drive to the airport.
Lane watched her as she hugged Alexandra. I wonder how she’s taking this. Finding a sister and then saying goodbye.
Alexandra kissed Christine on the cheek before hugging Lane and Arthur. She said to Lane, “Take good care of my sister.” Alexandra hefted her carry-on bag and waved goodbye before turning the corner and disappearing behind the opaque sliding glass door.
Christine smiled at her uncles, “Thank you.”
×
Stockwell looked up when Harper and Lane entered the waiting room outside Chief Smoke’s office. Stockwell cocked his head to the left to indicate they should sit, then tapped a message on his computer.
Lane looked at the walls newly adorned with photographs of Smoke shaking hands with an extensive variety of the city’s who’s who. Lane spotted one of Smoke and Bishop Paul. Smoke was smiling into the camera and shaking hands with the bishop.
Harper followed Lane’s gaze, made eye contact with his partner, and rolled his eyes.
“Chief’ll see you now,” Stockwell said.
Lane glanced over his shoulder on his way to the door and saw that Stockwell was back to playing solitaire. “Winning yet?”
Lane opened the door to see Chief Calvin Smoke sitting behind his desk. He didn’t stand as they came in. He was on the phone and gestured that the detectives should sit down. Then he rotated his chair so that his back was to them.
Lane looked at the photographs on the wall by the window. A picture of Smoke shaking hands with the mayor had replaced the picture of Smoke, Bi
shop Paul, and Dr. Jones.
“Of course,” Smoke said, then hung up and swung back to face them. He stood up, came around the front of the desk, and sat on the edge with one foot on the ground and the other swinging from the knee. He frowned at the detectives.
Lane caught the scent of aftershave, breath freshener, and alcohol.
Smoke smiled. “What do you have on Dr. Jones?”
Lane and Harper looked at each other.
Instinctively, Lane spoke in monotone. “Jones’ partner confessed that the doctor murdered Jennifer Towers. An independent witness, the border guard, told local authorities that Doctor Jones was involved in child pornography. Jones’ stepdaughter revealed that Jones sexually assaulted her over a period of five years, starting when she finished kindergarten. There is also evidence from Dr. Jones’ laptop of him sedating prepubescent female patients, photographing them, and trafficking the images on the Internet.”
Lane watched as Smoke glanced to where the photograph of him and Dr. Jones once hung on the wall. Smoke put both feet on the ground, went back behind his desk, and said, “I see.”
Lane waited and thought, Cam, keep your mouth shut.
Smoke looked at Lane. “I hear you enjoyed your nephew’s performance at the play the other night.”
Lane thought, Why does this sound like another threat? He nodded.
“And your niece is doing well?” Smoke smiled.
He has, Lane thought, a predatory smile.
“I believe your partner’s name is Arthur. He is well?” Smoke asked.
“Is that all sir?” Lane asked.
“Yes, detectives, you are dismissed.”
Harper lead the way out, past Stockwell and out to the hallway, where they waited for the elevator.
Harper looked at Lane, who refused to make eye contact.
They rode the elevator in silence and stayed that way until they got inside of the Chev.
“What the hell was that all about?” Harper started the engine.
“Our new police chief is not very pleased. We arrested a member of the scotch drinkers’ club and embarrassed some very powerful people. We embarrassed Smoke. This won’t be forgotten,” Lane said.
“Why did he ask about Matt, Christine and Arthur?” Harper backed the vehicle up.
“I think it was a threat. A veiled threat that he can get close to my family any time he wants to,” Lane said.
“Shit!” Harper looked ahead and shifted into drive. “The chief warned me about Smoke.”
“This situation reminds me of an old curse,” Lane said.
Harper looked right at oncoming traffic and waited for an opening. “Well?” he asked.
“May you live in interesting times.”
Acknowledgments
Bruce, for caring for us for all these years, and for recommending yearly mammograms, thank you.
Officer Justine: thanks for answering odd questions.
Again, thanks to Tony Bidulka and Wayne Gunn.
Karma, Alex, Sebi, and Bryce: thanks for the skilled editing of scenes.
Doug, Lou, Natalie, Loretta, NJ, Tiffany, and Paul: thank you for all that you do.
Thanks to the burgeoning creative writers at Nickle, Bowness, Lord Beaverbrook, Alternative, Forest Lawn and Queen Elizabeth high schools.
Sharon, Karma, Ben, Luke, Meredith, and Indiana. What can I say? I am blessed.
Garry Ryan was born and raised in Calgary, Alberta. He received a BEd and a diploma in Educational Psychology from the University of Calgary, and taught English and creative writing to junior high and high school students until he retired in 2009. That same year, Ryan received the Calgary Freedom of Expression Award in recognition of his outstanding contributions to the local arts community.
Ryan’s debut Detective Lane novel, Queen’s Park (2004), sprang from a desire to write a mystery that would highlight the unique spirit and diverse locations of his hometown. The follow-up, The Lucky Elephant Restaurant (2006), won the 2007 Lambda Literary Award for Best Gay Mystery. A Hummingbird Dance (2008) helped cement a loyal following for Ryan’s books in North America and overseas. Look for Detective Lane to face a new set of challenges, both as a police officer and as a family man, in Malabarista, the forthcoming fifth book in the series.