6
Edie woke just before 6 a.m. and forced herself to rise. She’d only managed a couple of hours’ sleep and her head felt like an old, abandoned ball. She brewed some tea on her Coleman stove and stirred in a small nugget of seal fat. The tea sharpened her up. She drained it, threw on her summer-weight parka and her outdoor boots and went out to face the day.
The Pitoqs’ house, where the Salliaq family had spent the night, wore the slightly forlorn, unloved air of a typical bachelor set-up. The front yard was full of engine parts and antlers and someone had hung assorted skulls on the steps up to the shabby front door. The windows were crusted with salt on the outside and the blinds, old-fashioned metal venetians, looked like they hadn’t been opened in years.
On the steps up was a tupilaq, a curse object, fashioned from a piece of walrus tusk wrapped in the face fur of a fox. Edie picked the thing up, turning it over in her hands. Whoever had constructed it hoped to bring harm to a family member. Charlie, most likely. You couldn’t be as abrasive as he was without picking up a few enemies. Small towns had long memories. She walked down to the sea and, tucking a pebble inside as ballast, threw the rotten thing as hard as she could into the water.
Back at the house she removed her boots in the snow porch and walked through the inner door. Lizzie and Alice were already up and sitting on the couch, staring into the middle distance, their eyes deep, dark pools of anguish. Beside them Alice’s father, Toolik Pitoq, stared blankly ahead. The old man had memory problems and it was hard to know what he might be thinking, or even if he had been able fully to absorb the news. Charlie was at the table with Sonia Gutierrez. The lawyer glanced over at Edie, then, reaching out and placing a hand briefly on Charlie Salliaq’s arm, got up and came over.
‘Markoosie has gone to the town hall to check for messages. The radio station phone line has an answer machine.’ Gutierrez pursed her lips. ‘I hope I don’t have to tell you this is going to be very difficult for the family.’ She met Edie’s gaze and held it a little too long. ‘They are worried about tirigusukut.’ Taboo.
A stab of irritation worked its way up into Edie’s brain. So now she was being lectured by an outsider on how to be an Inuk. Like most Inuit, she’d been brought up to think of the newly dead as tariaksuit, or shadow people. The tradition had it that if you tried to speak with them or even about them, the tariaksuit could find themselves torn between the spirit world and the world of the living, not knowing where to belong. If this went on for long enough the tariaksuit would be cut adrift. That was when they became disruptive and angry. Tuurgnaaaluit, Inuit called them, evil spirits. It was tuurgnaaaluit who supposedly inhabited Lake Turngaluk. If you believed in such things – Edie swung between belief and scepticism – it would be easy to imagine that Martha might have encountered tuurgnaaaluit as she lay dying in the waters of the lake. For Inuit, to be dead was at least to belong to the spirit world. To be tuurgnaaaluit was to belong nowhere at all.
‘We can interview you here if you prefer,’ Edie said, addressing herself to Charlie now. She had already decided not to mention the tupilaq. Nothing to be gained by it.
Charlie glanced at Alice and Lizzie then shook his head. ‘This is a home. If we have to talk about things that are tirigusukut it is better to do it in a qalunaat place.’
• • •
Back at the detachment Derek was busy laying out chairs. Edie left everyone to settle and fetched a tray of tea and coffee. When she returned, the three Salliaqs were seated in a row with Gutierrez off to one side, fiddling with a notebook and a digital recorder. Derek had asked Edie to take the lead in questioning. He was keen not to antagonize Charlie. He’d only butt in, he said, if he thought she was heading in a wrong direction.
‘We need to know as much as possible about Martha in general and specifically her movements from Friday afternoon onwards,’ Edie began.
Charlie’s brow knitted. ‘We shouldn’t be talking about these things now. My daughter is tariaksuit.’ He glanced at Gutierrez. There was a look of terrible sadness on his face.
‘I know this goes against our customs, but we have to do it all the same,’ Edie said.
Charlie turned momentarily to Gutierrez, who gave him a tiny nod of encouragement.
‘Perhaps you could start from when you moved to summer camp?’ Right now, so far as Edie and Derek understood it, the Salliaqs knew only that Martha had been stabbed, her body found outside the settlement.
Charlie took a breath and sighed. He saw he had no choice but to cooperate. ‘It must have been about week or so ago. Martha stayed behind so she could go to summer school. She’s smart, but I guess you know that.’
‘The smartest,’ Edie agreed.
‘She was supposed to come out and join us on Saturday for the weekend. Her mother wanted her to come earlier, on Friday.’ Charlie glanced not at Alice but at Gutierrez. ‘Martha is very serious about her studies.’
‘Did you have a disagreement?’
‘About that? No!’ Charlie rose a little in his seat then looked away. ‘No. We don’t disagree about anything.’
Implausible, but also typical. Inuit families found it more difficult than most to admit to trouble.
‘When did you begin to get worried about her?’ Edie said.
‘Not till Monday. We figured she’d forgotten. But I told you all this when I came to the school.’
Edie pressed him. ‘Did Martha often forget things?’
‘She’s eighteen.’ There was a pause. Beside him, Alice began to sigh and tremble. He went on, ‘This time of year, she sometimes likes to go collecting eggs, so that’s what we thought.’
Edie pulled the photo from her pocket. ‘We found this in her room. Do you know who took it?’ Charlie peered at the image. Alice blinked. ‘No,’ he said, catching Alice’s eye. His wife shook her head.
‘Was there someone she went out on the land with regularly? Fishing or egg collecting, say.’
A light sheen had appeared on the elder’s face. ‘Only family and friends.’
‘Who were her friends?’ Derek cut in. ‘Any misfits among them? Someone unstable, with a record maybe?’
The family looked at each other. Lizzie spoke first. ‘Lisa Tuliq?’
They waited for the young woman to elaborate, but when she didn’t Edie took a breath and went on, conscious that she was about to say something Charlie wouldn’t like. ‘Did Martha have a boyfriend?’
Charlie’s eyes sharpened. ‘We don’t allow the girls to date.’ He glanced at his wife, who looked away. Something there, she thought. She repeated her question, directing herself this time to Lizzie. At the young woman’s shrug Edie made a mental note to speak to her alone sometime after the main interview had finished.
‘Could Martha have been seeing someone in secret?’ Derek asked. Edie saw Charlie Salliaq bristle.
‘You don’t know my daughter. She wouldn’t do anything like that.’
‘We need to find out if anyone might have wanted to hurt Martha. Some boy she rejected, maybe?’ Edie said.
Charlie shifted on his seat. ‘My daughter is tariaksuit. It’s dangerous to talk about her like this.’
‘We appreciate this is hard,’ Derek said. ‘I’m Inuk myself.’
‘Half Inuk,’ Charlie added drily.
Derek’s mouth tightened. Edie threw him a warning look. Whatever he and Charlie thought about each other, there was no sense in provoking the old Inuk now. She waited for her boss to rearrange his features then went on.
‘Was there anything in Martha’s behaviour over the last week that seemed uncharacteristic? Anything at all?’
‘All these questions,’ Charlie Salliaq said. ‘I’ve already told you the answers. Martha was focused on her studies. She didn’t have many friends. There was no boyfriend, nothing like that.’
No one said anything. The atmosphere in the room thickened. Then, all of a sudden, Charlie seemed to fold inwards, as though he’d finally absorbed something of the horror of what had happen
ed to his daughter, and when he looked up again his face was drained of any life. Edie saw Sonia Gutierrez gently reach out a hand but he shrugged her off, unwilling to be comforted. For a while he simply stared ahead, his eyes ablaze, then, when he could no longer keep the horror in, he curled and grasped his head and tears began rolling down his face. Picking up on his distress, Lizzie began to sob too. Alice turned to look at her, a dazed expression on her face. Shock, Edie thought. It could do that to you.
‘We’ll need you all to give us DNA and fingerprint samples. For elimination purposes,’ Derek said. Addressing himself to Gutierrez, he added, ‘Markoosie too.’
The lawyer jotted something in her notebook. ‘Do you have any suspects?’
‘Not at this stage, no. Right now we’re not ruling anything out,’ he added firmly.
Charlie Salliaq had gathered himself now and wiped away his tears. Turning back to him, Edie said, ‘If you could go on with what you were saying, avasirngulik.’
Gutierrez gave Salliaq another of her little nods.
‘No Inuk would ever leave a body in Lake Turngaluk. Not ever. That place is tirigusukut.’ So he had heard, Edie thought. It was impossible to keep anything under wraps for long. She felt for him. The terrible details could only have added to his pain.
‘We were at summer camp,’ he went on. ‘We always move out of the settlement when the cotton grass starts blooming.’
‘Three weeks, then,’ Edie said. He’d previously said a week or so. Most Inuit didn’t own a watch and didn’t compute clock time in their heads but rather sensed it from the position of the sun, from shadows and the condition of the ice. This only added to the complexity of the investigation.
‘Martha stayed alone in the house during the week,’ Salliaq added, ignoring the correction.
Next Alice spoke up. ‘We wanted her to move in with my brother but she said she preferred to have time on her own to study—’
‘Look, I don’t understand why we’re wasting time talking,’ Charlie interrupted her. ‘Everyone knows Martha was killed by one of the unataqti from Camp Nanook.’ Directing himself at Derek, he added in an accusatory tone, ‘You were any good at your job, you’d be up there now.’
The room fell silent. Edie looked over at Alice and saw alarm in her eyes. Was she afraid of her husband? Or only of his temper?
Gutierrez cleared her throat. ‘My client is understandably upset. But the family are determined to cooperate with this investigation any way we can. Whether with you or with the military police at the camp.’
Now it was Derek’s turn to prickle. That was the trouble with men, Edie thought. They were so territorial. He reminded the lawyer that Martha’s body was found on civilian land, within Ellesmere Island Police jurisdiction.
‘I see,’ Gutierrez said, writing something in her notebook.
The front door opened and Markoosie came in. Derek stood up and pulled over a chair. Markoosie nodded a greeting to each of the Salliaqs in turn then sat.
‘Anyone call in?’ Edie said.
He shook his head miserably. ‘Not with anything useful. You know how it is with us. We don’t like to stick our necks out when there are qalunaat involved.’
Gutierrez blew air from her mouth in a gesture of impatience. Outsiders always wondered how it could be that people who thought nothing of scaling glaciers or hunting polar bears could become overwhelmed by feelings of ilira, awed fear, and kappia, a fear of unpredictable violence, in their interactions with southerners. Even outsiders as generally sympathetic as Gutierrez.
‘Do you remember what time Martha came to your house on Saturday?’ Derek said.
Markoosie looked pained. A thought crossed his face. He was about to speak, when his attention was drawn to the actions of his brother-in-law, who was wiping furiously at his nose, the back of his hand bloody. Gutierrez began to fluster in her bag for a handkerchief but the elder waved her away, saying he was OK, that it was just a nosebleed and that he was used to them. Still dabbing at his nose he stood up. He had no intention of staying and, in this state, there was no point in requiring it of him.
They’d reached the door when Edie called Markoosie’s name. The man looked back.
‘You were about to say something?’
He closed his eyes. ‘Oh yeah. After she came round, Martha said she was going to the store.’
‘Is that all? She say why?’
Markoosie shook his head and turned away.
• • •
Only Sonia stayed behind.
‘I know this won’t be at the top of your mind right now,’ she said to Derek. ‘But I think it’s important that the decontamination work scheduled to start at Glacier Ridge this summer goes ahead. Charlie Salliaq’s been petitioning the Defence Department for years to get that green-lit, well, we both have.’
‘You’re right. That’s not at the top of my mind. Glacier Ridge is an active crime scene.’
But Gutierrez wasn’t about to give up.
‘The pool where the body was found, of course, but the entire site? That’s a pretty large area. The clean-up is important work, sergeant.’ Gutierrez sounded a little more defensive than she had probably intended. ‘The Defence Department’s under tremendous financial pressure. They’re quite capable of using this as an excuse to pull out.’
‘My job is finding Martha Salliaq’s killer, Ms Gutierrez, and I’d like to get on with it.’
Gutierrez nodded, tight-lipped, and was about to rise from her chair to leave when Edie stayed her with a hand.
‘A moment?’ She lowered her voice. ‘Between us, do you know of anyone who’d want to hurt the Salliaq family?’ she said.
Gutierrez looked puzzled.
‘I found a tupilaq on the steps to the Pitoqs’ house this morning. A curse object.’
Gutierrez grimaced. ‘Charlie Salliaq can be abrasive but he’s very respected.’ She paused, as though recognizing the importance of the question. ‘I guess there was some opposition to the plan to clean up Lake Turngaluk. Something about stirring up bad spirits. Superstition.’
‘From?’
The lawyer gave an exasperated sigh. ‘You know how it is. No one actually said anything openly. It was just kind of in the air.’
‘If it comes down to earth, you’ll let us know,’ Derek said.
Gutierrez grunted a yes, then stood and, brushing herself down, made for the door. Derek waited until she was gone before wheeling about to face Edie, his face blush with anger.
‘Why didn’t you tell me about the tupilaq beforehand? Dealing with team Salliaq is enough like wrangling a pair of wounded walruses without my VPSO withholding information from me.’
‘I’m sorry, D. It won’t happen again.’ There was a pause. ‘How’s about I make myself useful and go see Sam Oolik at the store?’
Derek swung around on his chair so that his back was to her.
‘That is the general idea,’ he said, irritably.
• • •
A blast of lukewarm, damp-smelling air hit Sonia Gutierrez face on. In all the years she’d been flying up to Kuujuaq to work on the land-rights claim she’d never noticed just how awful the hotel was, more like some kind of overpriced homeless shelter than guest accommodation. A cleaner was supposed to come in daily whenever there were guests but it was rare that anyone showed up. On one occasion she left an empty bottle of shampoo in the bathroom and it was still there on her next visit four months later. There were no permanent staff. You checked in at the mayor’s office, where they gave you a room key and, if you were lucky, a towel and a roll of bathroom tissue. At the end of each visit you’d take the phone log to the mayor’s office, they’d tot up what you owed for calls, add on some insane sum to cover non-existent ‘administration’ and charmlessly send you on your way. The whole experience was less pleasant sojourn, more organized extortion.
Palliser’s indifference to the clean-up programme was frustrating but hardly surprising. She, however, had put more than a decade of her lif
e into pursuing first the land claim then the decontamination programme and she wasn’t about to see her efforts stymied, even by something as terrible as a murder. Her fee was dependent on the works being completed and, though she was fond of Charlie Salliaq and sympathized with the Salliaq family, she had family too, back in Guatemala, and they depended on the money she sent them every month to get by.
She moved out of the hallway to the communal area where the phone sat, perched on a shabby plastic chair, and picked up the handset, flipping through her notebook for the number. Then, abandoning the call and marching back outside to her ATV, she keyed the engine and buzzed along the track that led out to the river and across the sedge meadows to Camp Nanook. Some things were better tackled face to face.
The security detail at the camp kept her waiting while they called through to Colonel Klinsman, then escorted her along the boardwalks past the lines of prefab units and tents to the administrative block, where Klinsman smiled her into his office. The camp commander’s name and physique both suggested Germanic origins. He was a tall, angular man with watery-brown hair running to grey, and remote, disciplined eyes; mid- to late-fifties but fit and with no discernible paunch. She’d seen him once at the Defence Department’s offices in Ottawa and a couple of times since he’d arrived on Ellesmere Island, and had found him polite but professionally formal.
Klinsman’s office was a perfect reflection of the man: ordered, authoritative, if a little bland. Or perhaps elusive. It was hard to tell which. She’d known men like Klinsman back in Guatemala with offices more or less like this. Men who, despite the lawless and outrageous violence of their natures, operated on a day-to-day level every bit as though they were calmly invincible rationalists. You saw them on golf courses all the time, she’d noticed, pretending to relax in their $300 shoes.
Sonia guessed that Klinsman, like Palliser, wouldn’t care too much if the clean-up job got done or not. His primary responsibility was to direct the SOVPAT exercises up on Ellesmere. The decontamination programme was a side show funded not by the military but by the Defence Department. A man like Klinsman might even resent having to play second fiddle to the bureaucrats. She didn’t expect the colonel to take sides – he was too clever for that – but she did hope to be able to persuade him to put pressure on Derek Palliser to reopen the Glacier Ridge site for the clean-up crew.
The Bone Seeker: An Edie Kiglatuk Mystery (Edie Kiglatuk Mysteries) Page 6