"Do they still hang murderers in Ontario?" Lucas asked. As the reader knows, Lucas had nowhere near enough information to put Dr. Sandman in jail. But Slider didn't know that.
Slider fished in a pocket and brought out a very cheap brand of electronic cigarette – the heritage model that was designed to leave artificial yellow stains on teeth and fingers. He lit, inhaled, and blew yellow vapor at his horse's tail. The horse didn't mind. He had ample stains there already.
"We can't talk now. I have a customer coming out that door in five minutes. I'll meet you in High Park by the cherry trees. I have a lunch break in an hour."
"No. You'll drive up and down Yonge Street from Queen Street to King Street and back again. I'll pull you over. One hour."
Lucas was sufficiently nervous about unexpected noises of the fatal variety that he wasn't going to take visible form unless he had to. And if he had to, it would be in a very crowded and busy part of the city. Not in a large, treed, mostly deserted park.
# # # # # # # #
An hour later, Lucas was browsing in a used-book store that had an excellent view of Yonge Street. He had arrived early, and to kill time, he had looked through the entire store, idly thinking that his dad would like to palletize the store's contents and throw them into the Wilizy/Asia's hold. He saw Slider coming but let him go by. He stopped him on the way back.
"We can't stay here, Chief," Slider said. "You're too noticeable. People know me; they might comment to my boss that I was talking to an in'jun."
Lucas saw the horse brush on the seat next to Slider, grabbed it, and began to work on the horse's coat. "Now there's a reason for me to be here. Satisfied?"
Slider nodded and fished for his smokes again. "You gotta prove you know something, Chief. Sandman is one powerful man."
"Ask," Lucas said and started working on the yellow in the horse's tail. That would put him close to Slider's seat.
"What was Sparkle to Dr. Sandman other than a good time?" Slider asked this without moving his lips.
Lucas bent over and did the no lip talk right back. "She was his niece. Slider, he made a baby with his niece."
"I need protection. Another job somewhere. Far away."
"If you tell me what you know, he won't be able to hurt you. I'll go to the police."
"Not the police, Chief. That place leaks like my unmarried Aunt Bessie on Mother's Day. Go to the prosecutor's office. The head guy has to guarantee that I won't get charged with anything and that they'll hide me out of town. He has to put that in writing. If he does, I'll tell my story. In case they don't think I can deliver, I kept a little insurance just in case."
"In case of what?"
"In case Sandman decided to tidy up after himself. I was his favorite driver, but who knows with these rich guys. I know things about his deliveries that he wouldn't want exposed."
"Like what?"
"That's for me to tell the head prosecutor. You set it up."
# # # # # # # #
Lucas repeated the gist of the conversation for Theo. "I believe we can prove that Dr. Sandman paid for the murder. Slider will be the source of the information – as far as the courts are concerned."
"Will he show up?"
"I told him that I could prove that he had killed Sparkle and threatened him with the death sentence. He'll want to avoid that."
"What's next?"
"I'll go into Toronto and sit in the prosecutor's office until the head guy can see me. I have an eyewitness to the murder. You'd think that would be enough to put Sandman on trial."
"We'll complete two operations at about the same time – the murdering copter men and Dr. Sandman. Looking good."
"Incidentally, I was in a used book store in Toronto and saw shelves of used picture books that would be good for teaching reading. Rock bottom prices. They'd give you an excuse to see Nary."
"What makes you think I want to see Nary?"
"Pulease."
"It's a good idea, but I'm broke. I spent all my money on food."
Lucas fished in his pocket and passed a couple of coins over. "Leo's Used Books, Yonge Street, near Queen."
"I'll pay you back."
"On me. Go teach Nary to read."
# # # # # # # #
The next day, Lucas entered the Prosecutor's Office which was located in the big City Hall on Queen Street a couple of blocks west from where Slider and Lucas had met. Lucas refused to tell the receptionist why he had to meet with the head prosecutor, just that he had to.
"Mr. Lee is very busy today," the receptionist said. "You should make an appointment. We have room in January."
"That's way too late," Lucas said. "It has to be today. I'll wait."
And wait he did. Occasionally a Chinese man in a blue suit came out of the corner office and talked to the woman sitting at a desk in front of his office. After a couple of hours, he'd come out, look at Lucas, and frown. At 12:15, he went to the receptionist.
"Why has this man been waiting so long?"
"He wants to see you. He won't say why. He won't make an appointment."
"I'll see him." The prosecutor looked up, caught Lucas' eye, and said, "Come on in." After they were seated, he said. "I'm Dennis Lee. I can give you two minutes."
"I have proof that Dr. Leonard Sandman arranged to have a Top Hat driver named Slider murder a dancer named Sparkle on April 13, 2074 in front of the Royal York Hotel. Slider is willing to give evidence if you provide him with certain guarantees."
Total elapsed time: 10 seconds.
Mr. Lee pushed a button on his phone. "Alice, hold all my calls. Clear my appointments from now to 1 p.m. No interruptions."
# # # # # # # #
Of course it wasn't as simple as that. After Lucas gave him all the details he could, Mr. Lee was anxious to proceed. Dr. Sandman had an unsavory reputation and they'd be happy to close his very thick file. But they had to have a witnessed deposition from Slider and they'd need the evidence that Lucas had on the hotel room rental to prove that Dr. Sandman had a reason to kill Sparkle. Their office would take care of finding Basher's birth records, arranging immunity and protection for Slider, and preparing any other legal papers that were needed.
"How do we find Slider?"
Lucas described him and the red bow tie.
"That should be enough. We'll have somebody talk with him and arrange to take a statement in such a way that nobody will suspect he's been talking to us. We'll need a couple of weeks to pull everything together. The next step will be to arrange for a pre-trial meeting with a judge who will rule whether we have sufficient evidence to bring the case to trial. Usually this is only a formality, but since Dr. Sandman is a slippery character, we want to make sure that our witnesses are credible and the evidence is sound. The city doesn't like being sued," he said with a smile.
"Will I have to testify?"
"Probably not," Mr. Lee said. "The case is based on Slider's testimony. The evidence you collected in terms of an affair and a possible connection to the protection racket – these are minor issues compared to premeditated murder. We'd rather focus entirely on what we can prove beyond a shadow of a doubt. Still, I will need you in the courtroom in case questions come up. For example, why did Slider decide to come forward so long after the murder? We'll need a way to get in touch with you. Phone? Street address? Email?"
"I'll be out of town for a while."
"I have to be able to give you the date and time of the hearing. It will probably be the week after Christmas."
"I'll phone you."
"My direct line is on this card."
Back to the Table of Contents
Chapter 36
It was Monday, the last week of school before Christmas break. Reese was waiting for Annika at her locker. "I thought I might go home by a different route today," he said. "I don't have to be home so early tonight." (Hint, hint.)
"Do you have time to walk me home? You know. In case..." Annika wasn't sitting near the back of 6B's classrooms because she
was too tall to see over.
"OK."
Without any time to prepare, Annika was forced to draw on what had happened that day in class for conversational starters. "What do you think about the crib tournament coming up?" she asked as they left the school grounds.
Mrs. O'Leary, the new math teacher, had taught them this card game in a desperate hope that it would help these Grade 6 students learn how to add to 15. If the tiny green leprechauns by the waterfalls were willing, they'd even learn to add to 31. The game was new to both Annika and Reese, but they took to it quickly. They'd play against each other all math period, and when both finished their work early in another subject, they'd pull out one of the old ratty crib boards that Mrs. O'Leary had found buried in a storeroom and play some more. No words would pass their lips. But every now and then, in reaching for the cards to shuffle for the next hand, a finger might accidentally touch another finger, and both would pull their hands back in a fear reflex common to students of this age. What if somebody had seen that?
Annika and Reese were evenly matched not only in their knowledge of arithmetic facts, but also in terms of their knowledge of what cards to keep for their hand and what cards to throw into the crib. They hadn't studied statistics, but they had an intuitive sense of how to build a hand that could give them a big score if the right card from the deck appeared as the cut. Reese was cautious by nature; Annika was more daring. Reese was good at not leading cards that could give Annika big points when they were putting their hands down. Nevertheless, Annika was able to peg points during this phase of the game that sometimes made Reese wonder, How did she know what my last card was?
Annika had thought that the upcoming crib tournament would be something that Reese would be able to talk about. But in response to her question how he felt about the upcoming tournament, Reese simply said: "Uh. OK, I guess."
Annika was floundering in the deep end of the conversational water pool. She had no boat. No oar. No life jacket. Nothing. They walked in silence for a block. "My throat is a little scratchy. Would you mind if we don't talk for the rest of the way home?"
"OK," Reese said.
So they didn't talk and both of them enjoyed the walk more that way.
# # # # # # # #
Meanwhile that same day at about the same time, Theo walked into the little village on stilts, climbed the rickety stairs to Nary's hovel, and knocked. She came to the door with a bloody knife in her hand.
"What are you doing here? This isn't where we meet."
Theo was taken aback by the aggressive tone. In all of their meetings, Nary had been retiring, even shy. Now she was standing in front of him with a bloody knife. That caught his attention. Mucho, mucho attention.
"I found this crate of books that are a lot like the picture book you used to have. I thought you might want to read them. I could help if you wanted." He put the crate down and pulled out a book at random, opened it, and shuffled through some pages so that she could see the pictures and the big lettered words.
"Marie," she said and held the knife by its tip. Marie was not visible from the door. Nary drew her hand back and threw the knife at full velocity. When there was a solid-sounding thunk in response, Theo's first thought was She's killed her.
"Does this mean you want me to finish carving the venison?" Marie's voice.
"Yah. Theogun is going to show me some books." Nary ran down the stairs, waded barefoot into the river, washed her hands, and bounded back up the steps two at a time. "We can sit in here," she said and opened the door to the hovel.
Theo walked in. This was the first time he had actually seen inside the houses that the women had been given. It was empty of any kind of furniture. Two blankets on the floor marked their bedroom. A short, rough wooden counter was in front of one wall. A big hunk of bloody venison on it indicated it was serving as a cutting board right now. The knife was stuck in the wall behind it. Theo also saw a big pot and a fireplace for cooking. A metal pipe through the roof served as a chimney. No dishes were in sight; no cutlery – only a single long-bladed knife; no glasses; nothing. The pot would hold their cooked food, their drinking water, or their bathing water. They'd eat out of the pot with their hands.
"Sit here," Nary said, and she folded down onto the planks that were the floor. Theo did the same, although not as easily. He left plenty of space between them in case she felt uncomfortable being close to him. Theo had actually organized the books ahead of time so that he could start with simple alphabet books. "This is a book on the alphabet," he said.
"I know the alphabet." And Nary proved it in a singsong voice.
"Do you know what each of the letters look like?"
"Mostly. The ones from my old book for sure. Marie drew the others in the mud for me."
"Let's see if you recognize them in this book."
# # # # # # # #
Half an hour later, Nary had tired of trying to learn the sounds that each letter made. "You read the books to me. OK?"
Theo did. And because he was holding the book in front of him, Nary didn't have quite the full view of it that she wanted. So she scooted over so that she could see better. Shoulder touched shoulder. Arm touched arm. Marie saw the scoot. She came over to where they were sitting. Had Theo glanced up at that point, he would have seen a look that male animals only see once – just before they're butchered. Luckily for Theo, Marie held back and said only, "I'd like to see too." She pushed the two apart and sat squarely and irreversibly smack dab between them. "Continue with your reading, Theogun," she said coldly. "I'll hold the book so both of you can see."
There is a look that frequently passes between mother and daughter during the teenage years. When it originates from the mother's eyes, THE LOOK can often be interpreted as Wait until we're alone, young lady. The same kind of look can originate with the daughter but the intended meaning is different. Very different.
It doesn't matter what society a social scientist might be studying – that glare between mother and daughter is universal. Every mother and daughter worldwide has used or has been the target of that glare. Some social scientists have argued that the daughterly look was a learned response. Something that they may have picked up from an older sister, for example, or from a friend who had found her way into boyfriend land inadvertently. Other scientists have argued that it's a genetic trait passed on from generation to generation as a natural response to a threatening situation. Is THE LOOK learned, as some argue? Or is it genetically programmed, as other argue?
With the evidence now in front of us, we may conclude that the argument has been decided. Nary had never sat alone beside a male before this month. She had no knowledge of social conventions, dating principles, or hand-capturing strategies. She didn't know how to place skin on skin accidentally. She certainly didn't know what to do if a mother stepped in between her and a male prey. She had no siblings to mimic. No girl friends to learn from. But still, even though she had had no chance of seeing it in action before, as Marie took her place on the floor between them, Nary gave her THE LOOK. Full force and unbridled. In panther land, it would have been a growl ending in a snarl and a show of fangs. In this hut, it was THE LOOK. You embarrassed me and I'm not going to forget this, ever.
# # # # # # # #
Tuesday, the day after their first conversationally-devoid walk home, Annika and Reese walked to Annika's home again without talking. Except when they arrived. He said, "See ya tomorrow?" and she said "OK."
Annika's mom asked as she came in. "Is Reese still not talking?"
"Doesn't bother me," Annika said. Then she gave her mom half of THE LOOK, as in, Don't you dare say anything. Some teenage girls may have difficulty when they have to learn fractions in math class. However they are very adept at breaking THE LOOK into fractions and doling them out, as necessary, in a family situation.
# # # # # # # #
That same Tuesday afternoon, as Theo arrived at the foot of the stairs to give Nary her second reading lesson, Marie started down the st
airs. She brushed by Theogun without a word. She could have said that she was off to visit Ellen, the other old woman in camp because she was doing poorly. But she didn't. Theo felt the chill of Marie's mood but ignored it because a more welcoming presence was at the open door.
Nary had seen Theo coming and had the crate of books ready on the floor. The blankets that had been their bedding were rearranged into pads to sit on. Two pieces of dried venison were sitting on the floor within easy reaching distance. Nobody had told Nary what might be done in a social situation like this. Certainly not Marie, who was still bristling after being told that she'd have to leave her own house if Theogun came back to read. But the evidence was right on the floor in front of Theo. The trap for the prey had been set. A comfortable place to sit and goodies to eat. It's in the genes, guys. You can't fight it.
"I've been practicing my letters," Nary said. "Tell me if I'm right."
# # # # # # # #
Daylight was now fading. Since there were no candles or any other form of artificial light in the hut, that meant that the reading lesson was ending too. Marie stomped noisily up the stairs, cleared her throat, and entered her own hut. She saw immediately that Nary and Theo were back in arm-touching-arm territory. Nary was reading from a cloth book and laughing at what to her were very strange pictures. She glanced up and gave Marie a quarter of THE LOOK. I know, I know. Just let me finish reading this book without jumping down my throat, OK? Then Nary finished the book paying no attention whatsoever to Marie's own version of THE LOOK.
Back to the Table of Contents
Chapter 37
It was Friday, the last day of school before the holidays. Reese was waiting for Annika by her locker, his presence there now expected. Nothing was ever said or asked. Both knew that they'd be walking to Annika's home together. Today they actually had something to talk about. The crib tournament that they had played that afternoon.
Nary, Nary, Quite Contrary Page 22