The sergeant laughed. “So, to old drummer Jones it looked like a U.S. Drug Enforcement Agency truck because he watches too much TV and was half stoned. To the rest of us it’s just, well... a company truck. And now I have a definite lead, for which I am very grateful to you guys. I hesitate to commend civilians for doing investigative work but believe me, I couldn’t have gotten anywhere with anything over the last week without both of you. And yes, I know that as a cop I was getting nowhere out at the Robertson camp.”
By now, Arnold had joined them: “I have to say, I’m not a chicken-shit kind of guy, but I’d as soon not have to visit that Gerald guy again for awhile. And yes, Anderson, he is indeed Gerald Giordano, the guy who used to own that property. They found a newer map at the town office and left the information with Marion.”
“What’s this?” asked the sergeant.
“Living proof that Anderson can be a conspiracy theorist and still not be wrong. Tell John your theory, Frank.”
Some people talk with their hands. Anderson liked using a pencil and a piece of paper instead. He grabbed one of each from his desk and scrawled a rough map of the east shore, showing the sergeant the adjoining locations of the old provincial campsite, the Robertson site, and the land in between. “And now, it seems to me that Giordano has a hell of a lot of control of what goes on over a big stretch of the east shore. Not that he is in real control over the land, but I would be surprised if the Robertson bunch really care what he does there. He provides them with a sort of no-man’s-land buffer and keeps strangers away.”
“My turn for conspiracies,” Arnold chimed in. “You could even get rid of a body over there and no one would ever know.”
The sergeant suddenly sat forward: “Damn it, I knew I had forgotten something. We had a call in this morning from someone who lives near the county line road where it crosses the Spirit River, about halfway to The Falls. They found a rather new leather jacket in the water yesterday afternoon and wanted us to know. I sent Andy and the other corporal out to pick it up and try to identify exactly where it was found, and they were almost out there when the accident call came in. I’ll have to call those folks and tell them we won’t be there until the morning.”
Arnold said quietly, “I really hope it doesn’t belong to a small female who is missing. That would not be good at all. I haven’t seen Fred and Georgina since last week, and I hate to think how they’re doing.”
“Yes, that would not be a good thing for them,” said the sergeant. “Actually I called on them around three o’clock today – before I came here – just to see how they were doing and if they had heard from any of Anita’s friends. Mum and Dad are doing quite well – better than I expected to find. Fred has really buckled down and is supporting Georgina, and laying off the booze. Of course, tears are still coming easy to both of them and they have no answers. And... obviously I didn’t talk about jackets in rivers, but I did go over with them again what she had on when they last saw her. Georgina remembered she had cellphone photo of her wearing her favourite jacket, which I got her to text to me. That will be useful when we pick up the jacket.”
The sergeant stood: “Y’know, I could even pick it up now if I hustle out of here. It’s on my way home, sort of. I’ll radio Andy, and if they haven’t got there yet, I’ll call to make sure they’re home and go myself. Thank you guys again. I owe you a lot of donuts!”
“No worries!” After the sergeant left, Arnold also said he’d better be going back to his garage and then home.
“And I’ve got a bunch of messages to answer, a quote to send out and some calls to make,” said Anderson. “I’ve been pretty much ignoring the real world these last few days!”
***
Anderson had spent a couple of hours at his desk catching up, and decided that supper should be a pub-burger. He was planning to call Marjorie later, but wanted a chance to sit alone and sort out his thoughts so he got into his quarter-ton and drove out to the Spirit Inn.
The Inn was half full, but the only people he recognized were Georgina and her boss, Florence, who saw him come in and signalled “beer?” from behind the bar. He sent a Trump salute to her and chose a small table in the corner near the bar.
When Anderson had moved to the village fifteen years earlier, Florence considered him to be just a crazy young guy who came into town with a great big boat that you couldn’t water-ski behind. They got along well enough over the years, and now he was fifty, she was sixty-five, and the age difference didn’t seem so huge to her. “Here ya go, Frank. I got a couple of cases of that Saskatchewan beer in the green case you like so much, so this isn’t Export, it’s Great Western. Hope you plan to spend some time in here over the next few weeks ‘cause nobody else will drink it!”
They both laughed and he thanked her. “Guess that’s why it’s so hard to get. Thanks for remembering and ordering it in!”
“You look wore out... been a busy few days?
“Yeah, Arnold and I have been chasing around about a bunch of stuff. I imagine you know about us pulling that body from the lake last week.”
“Yes, and I can only imagine how not fun that was. It would have driven me over the edge. Good for you guys for helping out... and, Mr. Anderson, I have also heard rumours that you might have a sweetie! I’ll only tell you once, but I’m a little jealous, sir. And... I am also happy for you!”
“Well, I have to admit that Marjorie – Marjorie Webster is her name – and I have been seeing a lot of one another over the last week, but only time will tell if it’s going anywhere. Circumstances can push people together, and after the dust settles it’s all over and you can see it wasn’t really there in the first place. This time, though, I have to confess that I hope there’s more to it... we’ll see.
“I’ll cross my fingers for you, Frank. One thing I do know for sure is that romance is harder to put together as you get older.” She paused. “I assume you’re not here this early planning to drink everyone under the table. What can I get you to eat?”
“Antonio in the kitchen? Good, I’ll get a rare hamburger and fries with sliced tomatoes, as usual. Thank you, Flo!”
He turned his chair so he could watch the TV screen. Ottawa was playing the Lions in Vancouver, and the Red Blacks were ahead in the second quarter. He reflected that he was now a Red Black fan, although he had spent several years cheering for the Lions when he lived out west.
When Flo came with his supper, he asked her how Georgina was doing. “Aw, geez, poor Georgina, she’s going through hell. I offered her time off, with pay, but she refused, saying she needed something to keep her from going nuts. The only good thing – if that’s possible when your kid is missing – is that she and Fred have become incredibly close. He has really gotten his act together and stood close by Georgina. Things don’t always happen that way, especially with guys who are boozers, but in this case, yes, it did happen.”
“I’m not a guy who does much praying, but really, I pray for them. Fred’s a good guy at heart and a really hard worker when he’s off the bottle, and of course Georgina’s a sweetie. Don’t know how Anita turned out to be such a basket case, actually.”
“Hmm, I dunno, Frank. I’ve gotten to know her over the years, especially with Georgina working here. I’ve kind of been a cross between a granny and an aunty to her. She’s bright as hell and has a heart of gold, but unfortunately the emotions of a six-year-old. Always trying to find herself... it’s kind of ironic, of course I always hoped she’d find herself before she was lost – really lost.”
Anderson’s cell started to beep, so he took it out of his pocket and had a look. It was Sergeant MacLeod. “I’m sorry, Flo... I gotta take this.” He got up and stepped into the parking lot: “Hello Sergeant.”
“Bad news. The jacket matches the photo, and we can tell it’s only been in the water a short time. It was picked up out of the water along the shore about a quarter mile downstream of the County Line Bridge. We’ll need complete tests of course, but I am certain enough of
the match to order an official search. Assuming you can travel the length of the river from the lake to The Falls, and have clearance under the bridge, I’d like to hire you and your boat.”
“Crap. I mean – of course – but... crap anyway. This is so not good news. Okay, when do we start and where do you want me to be – I assume by the bridge, but when?” He paused... “Tomorrow at ten? Yup, I can do that. You’ll bring those inflatables? Good. Are you bringing in special tech gear yet – hi-res sonar – or do you just want me to keep my cheapie sidescan on for now? Okay. We can do that. How are you fixed for personnel... you’ll want two in each inflatable and I’ll need two – one observer on deck and one on the sonar. Okay, I’ll figure it out. See you in the morning,” and he clicked off, walked to his truck and called the bar. “Flo, can you just keep my tab? I gotta go. Yeah, I promise I’ll come back! Thanks Flo.”
And he clicked off again, started up his truck and headed for home, thinking how pleased he was that he had fueled up the launch this morning and checked all the fluids. When he got to the house, he sat for a moment with his ever-present sheet of paper and a pen, and considered: I need to call Arnold, and I need – and want – to call Marjorie. Where do I start...
He called Marjorie. She said that she and Wendy had spent a really pleasant day, mostly inside out of the rain, visiting together like it seems they hadn’t in years. He told her that he and Arnold had taken an interesting trip up the east shore on the country road, and he had lots to talk about, but he had a problem. He filled her in quickly, touching only the high spots, then asked the big question: “Are you game to join us on this search? It’ll be an early start in the morning, and I’ll need to find a deck observer between now and tomorrow. Not you, because I’d love to have you watching the sonar screen, since you have an obvious skill with screen images.”
A quick silence, then she responded: “Of course. Two questions... does the sonar unit have a computer interface? Yes? Fine, because that screen on top of your dashboard is pretty damn small so I’ll also bring my laptop. Second, can I bring Wendy to help? She’ll feel really secure on your big boat, and on the river you’re never far from shore anyway. I only say this ‘cause she is a really focused person who looks for every detail in everything. Trust me, I know,” she chuckled, “everything!”
“That would be really great, if Wendy’s okay with it.”
“Perfect,” she said. “what time can you pick us up – remember our little runabout is still at the marina! Seven? Great, see you then. Hugs!”
Anderson smiled broadly to himself. He really did admire that lady, game to do anything and always good natured! And, she had solved his next problem; he clicked on his phone and called Arnold.
“Hi Marion, how’s it going? Yup, we did indeed have an interesting day. Uh huh, I would not be unhappy if I never saw that sucker again. I’ll bet there’s a lot of history out there, and not much of it good! Yes, I would.” There was a pause.
“Hi Arnold. Sorry to bug you again but guess what: we have another emergency. We’ll keep it obviously off the record for now, but we have another search for a possible body in the morning...” and he filled his friend in on his call from the sergeant.
After sharing the details, Anderson said, “I have my boat fully crewed by Marjorie and her sister – and probably John – partly because both are good at staring at images on computer screens, and partly because I can’t bear to drag you out of that shop for another day. Well, actually, that’s not the only reason: we’ll have a bunch of boats going down a narrow river and cop cars and trucks all over the place. I’d rather have you and your towtruck and a mess of chains on shore, along with a guy who knows what to do when the going gets tough. Make sense? Cool. Keep your cellphone no more than two feet away, all day! Thanks man, g’night!”
07:00 JULY 20
It was exactly seven when Anderson gave two hits on the horn and swung around the island. As he approached the dilapidated wharf, he could see Marjorie and Wendy coming across the island with extra jackets and small backpacks. As the launch came to a stop along the dock, both women stepped across the six-inch gap and onto the well deck. “Good morning Frank!”
He already had the engine in reverse and was backing away from the dock. “Good morning ladies, I don’t usually make a habit of inviting my friends on ghoulish adventures like this, but welcome onboard!”
“Don’t listen to a word he says, Wendy,” responded Marjorie. “Remember, this is what we were doing the first time we met!”
“Maybe so, but you will also recall that you supplied the corpse that time!”
“Fair enough!” she laughed, and walked into the wheelhouse and planted a kiss firmly on his lips. “Now, I’ve got my laptop and enough cables and adapters here to start an electronics store. Let me get started while you explain to Wendy what we’re going to do, why, and how. I’ll listen when I’m not staring at this thing in stunned silence. And, there’s a big coffee jug in my pack but I see you brought along one too – big surprise – so I’ll get us started on yours.”
The boat was now headed southwest, to a low spot on the far shore just west of the village. What was usually the low hum of the main diesel became a persistent growl as Anderson pushed the throttle almost to full speed. “Sorry about the noise. I have to make up a bit of time because once we get into the river we have to cut back to less than six knots (that’s about ten klicks).”
Wendy had been standing close to the wheelhouse, getting a “feel” for the boat. She walked into the house and smiled, “This is pretty cool, Frank. I can see why Marj has such confidence – in you and the boat. Away nicer than bouncing around in that yammering little outboard!”
“It’ll be much nicer once we’re in the river, and when we get to the bridge and start the search, we’ll be going only slightly faster than the current, so the boat’ll be dead still. And that’s a good thing, because I want you to be up there (he pointed through the windscreen at the forward deck with the small railing) searching the water surface ahead. There’ll be a police sergeant with us I expect, and he’ll spell you off. Anyway, don’t go forward yet. It’s a bit unnerving up there because of the illusion of the speed we’re going, It’s only about twelve knots but it seems away faster and less steady up there!”
“Marj, I feel dumb here. What’s a ‘knot’?”
“Like miles-an-hour, but different. I’ll explain later!”
“Okay. Now tell me what magic you have going on with that laptop.”
“I think I’ve found the right cables to hook it up,” said Marjorie. “Frank, where can I plug in the laptop?”
“There’s household current in that receptacle port side of the companionway to the cabin. Sorry, left of the door to the steps.” He reached forward to some larger switches under the dash and flipped one up. “There, that should be good to go.”
“Thanks. Anyway, Wen, this computer is now hooked up to an instrument over by the wheel that measures depth, I understand. In a second, I should be able to read it... yes!... now I have it over here on the table, so I can watch through a much bigger screen without having to crowd Frank. Which would be fun for me but maybe not a great thing for this project. Frank, what else does this thing do and why is depth so important?”
“It’s more than a depth sounder. If I set it up differently over here on the instrument itself, it becomes what’s called “side-scan sonar”. Instead of beaming radar-like signals straight down to measure, basically, depth only, it sends them almost a hundred and eighty degrees from side to side, which shows all the things on the bottom (and sides of a narrow river like this) as we pass over on the surface. You can actually see shapes of rocks, bridge piers, bicycles, outboard engines and – maybe – bodies.”
“Wow, that is really cool. Is it reading now? I just see a bunch of squiggles and lines that don’t seem to make much sense,”
“It won’t make much sense at this speed and depth, although the depth information itself is pretty accurate.
It’s like photo resolution, in a way... the slower we go, the more signals cross the bottom and the higher the resolution – and the easier it is to pick out shapes.”
By now, they were nearing the marshes that stretched from the group of islands where Barkers lived, to the north shore. There were navigation buoys marking the entrance to the river and as they passed through the first set of buoys – red on the left and black on the right – he slowly brought the throttle back until the GPS showed six knots as their forward speed. The engine resumed its more peaceful hum, the waves pushed up by the launch reduced to a bit more than a ripple, and the marsh and river entrance closed in on them.
Pretty soon the river was more like a rough canal, fifty to a hundred feet wide at this point although it narrowed more downstream. The waterway was navigable for small boats until it reached Maple Falls. There, the water went over a small dam and spread out into more marshes and next reach of the river below.
“Holy cow,” said Wendy, who had been standing silently on the well deck for the last fifteen minutes, “This is a bird-watcher’s paradise. Who knew we had stuff like this in Ontario, or Canada for that matter. I feel like Katharine Hepburn in the African Queen - that movie with Humphrey Bogart!”
“It’s not all as rough and overgrown as this. When we get downriver of the County Line Bridge and closer to Maple Falls, we’ll start to pass some fields along the side, and the wildlife begins to look more like Holstein cows. But that’s pretty too. Marjorie, I had promised on Saturday that we’d come down here someday soon for lunch at the locks in The Falls. I am really sorry, this was not exactly the relaxing voyage I was thinking of at the time!”
“Hey, this is fun, so far anyway. And, I think I am beginning to understand what I’m looking at on this screen, although stuff still goes by pretty fast.”
Sunset at [20 47] Page 14