“You didn’t say anything to the men at all?”
“No. I ignored them. But Hassan kept looking around at them. I do have a feeling those guys were planning trouble for him anyway. I assume, given the truck they were driving, they all knew each other from working at the mine, or they wouldn’t have been there in the bar together, especially since Georgina said Hassan hadn’t been there for a couple of weeks. And while she knew Hassan, it seems she didn’t know the other two. Guess we’d have to ask her that.”
“And I will.” The sergeant was silent for a moment, then: “What are your instincts telling you? What I see is that you knew something was amiss from your conversation with Hassan, but you wisely held back so as not to force a confrontation, which happened anyway and there was nothing you could have done differently to prevent it. Like I said earlier, you probably saved the guy’s life, tonight or possibly in the future. Someone wants him gone, either by scaring the crap out of him (like with your project interns, or even Anita possibly) or more permanently which almost happened two hours ago.”
It was Anderson’s turn to be silent. He got up and refilled their coffee cups, then sat down and looked hard at the sergeant. “Something is bugging me. I’ve been around a little, and have dealt with working men like myself and with big corporations as sort of a task-specific consultant. There’s something about all of this that is... well, clumsy. I’m not suggesting that Robertson Mines is above using scare tactics to chase away people they don’t like, or even arranging murder once in awhile, but successful global corporations are usually better at it than this. They deal in government lobbying, public relations like with Wendy, and lawsuits. They don’t like to get their hands dirty, so while all this may suit their agenda I have a feeling there’s something else going on. Is that too crazy?”
“No. I left my smokes at home, can I bum one of yours?” He took one and Anderson passed him his lighter. “I think you’re dead-on. The bosses out at the mine likely know a bit about what’s going on but like you I don’t think they know how weird it’s getting. It’s kinda like someone is using Robertson as a cover, the environmentalists are providing a distraction, and that same someone has a quite different agenda. Don’t know what it is yet.”
“Well, like Deep Throat said in the American Watergate incident, ‘follow the money’. And, like Watergate, it’s almost certainly illegal. Only thing is... we don’t know who, and we don’t know what.”
“Tonight is the first time we have hard evidence of a crime. The old boy we found in the lake – we don’t know yet. Anita really is missing but she could be in California with another musician for all we really know. The incident out on the lake with your interns and the motorboat is unproveable as a crime unless we know more. It’s all about what we don’t know, but somehow, they all seem connected.” When he finished speaking, the sergeant stood up. “I still have a long night ahead of me, and you need to at least fry yourself an egg or – you could go back out to the Inn and reclaim your steak sandwich!”
“Think I’ll give that a miss tonight, thanks. Just can’t warm up to the idea of a Friday night bar and a whole bunch of questions. That egg will work fine!
08:00 JULY 22
Anderson’s phone woke him up – just the alarm, so he rolled over and grabbed another rather restless hour before getting up. Last night after the sergeant left, he called Marjorie and gave her a shortened version of what had happened. She was concerned – very – and told him to be extra careful. “Lock your shop and house doors tonight... those guys may still be getting around and may have recognized you and want to cause more trouble.” She said she was coming in first thing after breakfast in the morning and would come straight to his place. After they said good night, he decided to take her advice and started by walking down to the dock and making sure the wheelhouse and engine room were securely locked. He put the mooring chains and locks on: I may not be paranoid, but that doesn’t mean they’re not out to get me, he had thought to himself.
He turned on the Maple Falls radio station, made a pot of coffee and checked out the weather forecast on the computer. The weather promised that fog and light drizzle would settle in for the region early Sunday morning, and the radio news talked about a single-car accident near Spirit River, with the lone occupant taken to hospital where he was listed in serious condition. Nothing more.
Anderson sat for awhile drinking his coffee and reading the radar installation manual. Today would be a good time to get it working, he considered – perhaps he could try it out Sunday! The sergeant called at about 09:00 and said the doctors had put Hassan into an induced coma until they could figure out how badly his head had been injured. He also had a few broken ribs and a broken right leg, but there were no apparent internal injuries; the doctors had debated moving him to Toronto, but decided to leave him at Maple Falls Hospital. In turn, the sergeant had placed a 24-hour guard on his room because he considered him still under threat. He had also called for the crime scene investigation team and a couple of extra constables to handle the hospital guard duties.
Anderson was out in his workshop gathering some tools, wire and parts to help with the radar installation when he saw Marjorie walking up the path. He felt a rush of appreciation, first for how pretty she looked but mostly that she was here at all. He met her on the driveway with a big un-self-conscious kiss and a long hug. Then he realized he had been holding a grease gun and she was now wearing some of it; they laughed together and headed for the coffee pot. “You only really like me for my dark-roast coffee,” he teased as they went inside.
And at that moment, of course, up the driveway came Arnold. They stood in the doorway waiting for him, hand in hand and laughing together. When Arnold got to where they stood, there was no teasing today. He gave Marjorie’s arm a gentle squeeze as he walked in the door. “Good morning folks... glad to see you Marjorie! Hopefully you’ve come to baby-sit our resident community hero and keep him out of trouble. Well, to keep him out of more trouble than he’s already in.”
Anderson chuckled: “Like that, is it? What have I done now?”
“Nothing yet today, far as I can tell, but you sure opened a hornets’ nest last night, and the hornets are still buzzing this morning. Did Flo get a-hold of you?”
“Nope, not yet, and I’ve had my phone on all the time”
“Well, I’m not clear how things started yesterday, but it seems you wanted to talk to that Hassam guy, who was seated with two other guys from the mine, then you all left and we know what happened after that. Anyway, Flo wanted to let you know that one of the other guys from that table came back into the bar around eleven o’clock and was asking questions about who you were, where you lived, and so on. And this morning, before Flo called me, a couple of big guys came by the garage and asked where I’d taken... ‘that car that was in the accident last night’ was how he put it. I told him that I usually took wrecks to the OPS compound. Then he asked if the guy in the car was hurt. I said I figured so ‘cause the ambulance came and took him away. Then they left. Oh, and before you ask because I know you’re gonna... they were driving a big old 3/4 ton 4X4 beater, white.”
“Coffee?” Marjorie arrived at the table with a steaming mug. She was laughing: “What’s with our friend Mr. Anderson here? Does trouble always follow him or does he always start it?
“For sure he’d bring bad luck to a good huntin’ dog, near as I can tell!”
“Come on guys, must be the company I keep,” said Anderson. “I’m just a frustrated old sailor who was forced into slavery as a carpenter when I was a child.”
“Marj, was that your sister Wendy I just saw in the nice little grey Toyota hybrid headed uptown?” asked Arnold.
“Yes it was. She and I came in from the island together, and she’s taking a room for tonight at that little bed and breakfast on King Edward Street.” Anderson was looking at her in surprise. “I haven’t had a chance to tell Frank yet, but I’m hoping I can have a corner of that nice long couch over there.�
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“Aha,” said Anderson. “I can tell that you must have listened to tomorrow morning’s weather forecast. Under some circumstances, I do have to admit that I just love fog!” He paused. “But that doesn’t sound helpful for tomorrow morning when you head out to Toronto.”
“I wouldn’t worry,” put in Arnold. “Once you’re a few klicks away from the lake – maybe twenty klicks – the fog almost always disappears. The Indigenous folks didn’t call this Awan Lake for nothing!
“On the subject of fog, Arnold, is someone around the garage today? I want to get my radar installed and I may need some fuses ‘n stuff. I can try the Co-op but they always have that stuff packed one-at-a-time in enough bubble pack for the whole damn car.”
“Yep, Jim’s there, and I’m around. Marion is at home trying to catch up on garden work. And, I’d better get going. I need to service the winch-brake on that old wrecker of mine... kept slipping while I was hauling that car last night. See you later folks!” Then he stuck his head back in the door and called out, “Marj, don’t forget when you get back from the city that Marion has some garden stuff for you and Wendy,” and then he was gone.
“Peace. For a moment anyway. Would you mind giving me a hand wiring up the radar? It goes much easier if there’s someone to help string all the wires. I never did get around to breakfast, but maybe we can go for a quiche at the Zoo. Would Wendy want to join us?”
“She’s gone to The Falls to help out with that children’s fair they have on Saturday afternoons. She pitches in every now and then in the summer. So we can take as long as we like at the boat and yes, quiche does sound good because my breakfast was pretty light. One muffin only lasts so long.”
As they were taking the bits and pieces to the boat, Anderson said, “Pretty cool that Wendy helps out at the children’s fair. She doesn’t even have kids of her own.”
“I do tease her about it, accusing her of fulfilling her frustrated maternal instinct (like I should talk!) But yes, she does the same kind of stuff in the winter in Scarborough. Even I help out there too, teaching kids art classes. We have fun at it.”
They spent the first half-hour clamping the antenna cables to the mast and threading them through the rubber grommet that protected and water-proofed other wires from the mast through the wheelhouse roof. At one point Marjorie said, “You have a really cute sign with a picture of a beaver with a toolbox on your truck door. Why don’t you call your boat ‘The Beaver’ ?”
“Hmm. Well, there was a sign painter who hung around here about five years ago who did up that drawing and showed it to me. I bought it to help him out, of course, and I thought of naming the boat too, but it seemed silly at the time.”
“Not at all silly. And hey, it’s nice and gender-neutral!” she chuckled.
“There are boy and girl beavers, y’know!”
“Can you tell the difference?”
“Ah... no. I could say something about the boy beaver having the tool kit, but I’d likely get smacked!”
“You would indeed,” she laughed. “But think about it. After all, male or female they are most definitely working critters that get around in the water. Just slightly different tool kits.”
They laughed – a lot – and grabbed a quick coffee from the thermos before putting the radar unit with its screen on the dashboard inside, and connecting wires. Just before noon, they headed for the Zoo and lunch.
***
As they were walking from the truck to the restaurant door, they met up with Marion. “Hi you two, am I ever glad to see you. Now I don’t have to have lunch alone!”
“Arnold said you were gardening today,” said Anderson.
“Yeah, I am, which is why I’m having lunch here. And the old man had to go out to the cottage subdivision at Muskrat Lake to pick up a car to be fixed, so I’m all alone!”
“Marion, you are never alone,” he teased her. “And yes please join us.”
The Zoo was almost empty. They sat near the window and were instantly brought two coffees. The server smiled brightly at Marjorie and said, “I know what those two drink, M’am, but for you I haven’t had the pleasure yet. What can I get you?”
“I’m going to be difficult and have a glass of root beer, if you have some.”
“Sure do! And Mr. Anderson, I have been hearing tales about you... and Arnold too, Marion. And quite a night last night, too!”
“Well, you can’t always believe what you hear, y’know!”
From across the room, a middle-aged man in jeans and a scruffy cowboy hat shouted, “I’ve been hearing tales about you too, Anderson, and just in case you were wondering, I don’t like what I hear.”
“Well, like I just said, you can’t always believe what you hear. What seems to be the problem?”
“You and that damn conservation project getting too big for your boots. Gone too far this year, what with the people you hire and now this anti-development protest you are running. Just burning up tax dollars with things we don’t want.”
“Well, it ain’t tax dollars being used for that event coming up. The government made sure of that. And anyway, what’s wrong with the people we hire?”
“We need lots of jobs for the good people that the Robertson expansion project is gonna have, and we don’t need jobs for university-educated fags and lezzies who count birds.”
“Well, you are free to have your opinion, of course, even if I don’t agree with you about any of it. Perhaps you should come to the meeting and speak up there... today we’re just trying to have lunch.”
Sam, the owner of the Zoo, had been cooking in the back but he had been listening in. He was big, and now he was mad. He stormed out of the kitchen, went to the man’s table and grabbed his plate of half-eaten hamburger and his coffee cup and glared at him: “You will leave my restaurant, now, and you are not welcome back here.”
The man slammed his fist on the table and swept the glass of water onto the floor, where it broke. Anderson pushed back his chair, stood up and headed across the floor to join Sam at the table. The man stood up and made for the door: “I hate all you pricks,” he yelled as he went out. “I got friends and I’m gonna make sure we get you all kicked out of our community.” He got into an old white crewcab 4x4, slammed the door, and spun his tires away from the curb.
“Okay then, now we can have lunch. Sam... thanks for standing up!”
“You too Anderson. That jerk comes here every now and then and he’s always looking for an argument. Hopefully that’s the last I’ll see of him.”
Anderson sat down and looked at Marjorie, who had a mildly surprised look on her face. “Well, that’s a side of Spirit River I hadn’t seen,” she said.
Marion was quick to answer, with a laugh: “That’s not a side of Spirit River, honey. He‘s the place where they put the hose when they give the world an enema.”
They chuckled a little over that, although Marjorie was looking thoughtful. Lunch came, and was delicious as usual, and they chatted about the sisters’ upcoming trip to Toronto. To Marion, Spirit River was where their home was, and the Toronto trip was just an outing and a chance to do some shopping. To Anderson, it would be an unfortunate break in a new part of his life.
To Marjorie, it was a worry.
***
Back at the boat, Anderson and Marjorie worked for another hour getting the radar unit hooked up. He turned the unit on, and gave a happy “All Right!” when the antenna started to turn and the screen came to life. “Now to adjust,” he said, and Marjorie begged out for a few minutes, going back to the house to use the washroom.
Anderson’s phone rang. It was the sergeant, and he sounded very serious. “Can I drop by?”
“Absolutely, John, anytime. I know you’re meant to be good at finding things and people, but if you let me know when, I’ll try to be there!”
“Ten minutes, at your place.”
“Actually, Marjorie and I are at the boat, making the radar work, I hope. Is that okay?”
“Ye
s. I’ll see you there. And I’ll bring donuts!”
“Cool. Marjorie will love you forever. See you soon!
Marjorie had just come back onboard, and she rolled her eyes: “More visitors?”
“Just the sergeant. He wants to talk, and he sounds serious. Well, he’s usually pretty serious, but this time he sounds very serious.”
“Actually, I’m glad he’s coming. I have questions for him. Meantime, is Miz Radar working?”
“How do you know it’s ‘Miz’ Radar?”
“’Cause it goes around and around and sounds pretty fussy.”
“I will definitely remember you said that!” Anyway, I’ve tried all the ranges and they seem to work fine but I’m really not sure what to expect. The only ones I’ve looked at before were ancient and had no bells and whistles at all. This one is away more complex inside and apparently a lot less complex to use. It also displays GPS at the same time – I’d like to take the boat out and see how the two functions work together. Anyway, can’t do it now ‘cause John is coming over. And he’s bringing donuts... I said you’d be happy.”
“Indeed I will! When did he say he’d be here?”
“Now. There he is pulling up to the end of the dock.”
The sergeant arrived with a half-box of donuts and a thermos full of coffee. He greeted them both warmly, and passed around the goodies. “How’s the new radar working? Impressive antenna going ‘round and ‘round up there!”
“ I think I have it doing what it expects to do, now I have to figure out what it is that I expect it to do, and how to get it done. Let’s sit outside. I think from the sound of your voice on the phone, I’m gonna need a smoke!”
They spread themselves around the well deck and settled in. “Okay, folks. It’s this way, and I don’t know how it got this way: Frank Anderson is one of the most unassuming men I’ve ever known, but somehow, right now it suddenly seems he has a target on his back.”
Marjorie sat stone-faced. Anderson bristled a little: “Geez, how the hell did that happen? Surely that idiot we saw at lunch hasn’t started a war already!”
Sunset at [20 47] Page 19