The Art of Murder

by Kevin Hopkins

  ‘Well, you’re a better man than I am,’ Constable Curry said. The squad car fishtailed a bit as they turned onto a quiet, tree-lined street. ‘What’s the number? 561?’ He pulled up next to the curb in front of a grey stone house. ‘Let’s go see if anyone’s home.’ He opened his door and immediately received a faceful of snow. ‘Bet you’re wishing you hadn’t cancelled that vacation right about now, eh?’

  ‘Some sun and warmth would definitely do the body good,’ Constable Carlson said as they walked up the driveway to the front door. All the lights were off in the house.

  ‘Doesn’t look like anyone’s here,’ Constable Curry said, shining his flashlight through the window. He rang the bell and knocked on the door with the butt of his light. The Police Knock. A gust of wind blew some snow off the roof down the back of his neck.

  ‘Should we go around back and have a look?’ asked Constable Carlson.

  ‘Might as well—doesn’t seem like anyone’s coming to the door. I can’t see anything through the window here. Maybe we’ll be able to see more through the back windows.’

  They walked through the deep snowdrifts that had blown along the side of the house. Constable Carlson stopped at a window partially hidden by a large cedar hedge. He shined his light, moving it back and forth, trying to scan the entire room inside. ‘Hey, check this out. This looks like an office, and there’s paper scattered all over the place.’

  Constable Curry looked through the window, holding up his light. ‘Definitely looks like the room’s been tossed. Look, the desk drawers are turned over on the floor,’ he said, pointing his light in front of the large wooden desk.

  ‘I’ll call this in. The Captain said he wanted to know if we found anything. You go check out the back of the house. I’ll meet you there in a minute,’ said Constable Carlson, grabbing his radio.

  ‘Sounds good,’ Constable Curry said, continuing along the side of the house and shining his light on the fresh snow cover in front of his feet. ‘If anyone came through here more than fifteen minutes ago, their prints would be covered by now,’ he thought. At the corner of the house, he came upon a chain-link gate barring his way to the backyard. He unlatched the gate and pushed, trying to open it against the snow piled behind it. After a few tries, he was able to squeeze through into the small, fenced-in backyard. His flashlight revealed a snow-covered patio and a back door. Before walking up the three stairs to the patio, he made sure he wasn’t going to be messing up any footprints. Again, he realized that the snow was covering tracks almost as quickly as they were made. From the patio, he peered into another window, but this one had curtains blocking his view. He heard Constable Carlson’s boots crunch in the snow as he entered the backyard.

  ‘Called it in. Dispatch is going to call the Captain and let him know. Apparently, he’s with the homeowner now, so maybe she knows about it.’

  Constable Curry walked over to the back door and knocked with his flashlight. To his surprise, the door swung open. ‘Police!’ he called out, shining his light inside.

  ‘Did that just open on its own?’ Constable Carlson asked. ‘Check out the snow on the floor,’ he said, shining his light on the rug inside the door. A drift of snow led down the hall.

  ‘Must have been open for a while,’ Constable Curry said, pushing the door further open. ‘Police officers,’ he called out again and listened. All he could hear was the wind. ‘Call dispatch back, let them know we’re making entry,’ he said, stepping inside the house.

  ***

  ‘Alright, I’ll find out and I’ll call you back right away. Tell them to be careful,’ the Captain spoke into his phone.

  ‘Is everything alright?’ asked Beverly.

  ‘Not sure,’ the Captain said, putting his arm around Beverly and steering her away from the crowd to a quieter area of the room. ‘Two of my officers are at your house. They looked through one of the side windows and saw a bunch of papers and drawers on the floor.’

  ‘That’s Mark’s office,’ Beverly said. ‘That doesn’t make any sense—he keeps that office spotless.’

  ‘There’s more. Your back door was slightly open. Apparently, it could have been open for a while. There was a pile of snow on the inside.’

  ‘Snow? What? Why would the door be open? We always keep that locked, and we don’t even use it in the winter.’

  ‘Try calling Mark again. I’m going to call my guys back and tell them to be careful. Could be a break-in.’ The Captain dialed his phone again. ‘Hi, it’s me again. Send back-up to the Williams’ house—looks like it could be a break-in. Get forensics en route. They may be able to get some prints off the point of entry. Keep me informed.’ He disconnected the call and walked over to where Beverly was talking to Chris.

  ‘I think I need to go home,’ Beverly said. ‘Mark’s not answering his cell. What if his battery’s dead and he’s trying to call from a payphone? There could be voicemails at home—he never could remember my cell phone number.’

  ‘You can’t go home yet—not until my guys are done their search, anyway,’ the Captain said. He glanced around the room. ‘Have you guys seen Penner, sorry, Sue?’

  ‘Last I saw her she was checking out the artwork with Gabe. Did you want me to go get her?’ Chris asked.

  ‘If you wouldn’t mind. I think I should probably head back to the precinct, start co-ordinating more of a search.’ He saw Beverly’s eyes filling with fear. ‘We’ll find him. Try not to worry.’

  ‘What should I do? How long until I’ll be able to head home?’

  ‘Could only be twenty minutes or so if it looks like everything’s alright there.’

  ‘But…’ Beverly hesitated. ‘You don’t think it’s alright though, do you?’

  ‘No, not really.’ The Captain rubbed his temples. ‘Give me half an hour. You stay here. It’s early yet, and there’s still a chance Mark will show up. I’ll go back to the station. Once I hear from my guys at your house, I’ll give Penner a call. I’ll send my car back and, if everything is okay, my driver will bring you back home.’

  ‘And if not?’

  ‘We’ll cross that bridge when we get to it. You can either come back to the station, or go to a friend’s place to wait,’ the Captain said, putting his arm around her shoulder. ‘We’ll figure out what’s going on.’

  ‘Thanks.’ Beverly tried to carefully wipe a tear from her eye without messing her mascara. ‘I hope he doesn’t show up here now. I’d hate to give him a piece of my mind in front of all these people,’ she said, smiling for the first time in a while.

  ‘What’s going on?’ asked Penner, as she walked up with Chris and Gabe. ‘You wanted to see me, sir?’

  ‘There may be an incident at Beverly’s house. I’m going to head back to work to see what’s going on. I’d like for you to stay here, for now, with Beverly. I’ll give you a call in the next half an hour or so. I’ll send my car back to pick you up later.’ The Captain pulled two coat check tickets out of his jacket pocket. ‘Do you mind grabbing my coat? I have to call my driver. I’m not sure which ticket is mine and which is yours.’

  ‘Sure, no problem,’ Penner said, taking the tickets. ‘Anyone want a coffee or another drink while I’m over there?’

  ‘I’d love a coffee, thanks,’ Beverly said.

  ‘I’ll come with you. I’d like a tea,’ said Gabe. ‘Anything for you, Chris?’

  Chris checked his watch. ‘I don’t usually drink coffee this late in the day, but I doubt I’m going to get much sleep tonight, so might as well. Two cream, no sugar, please.’

  CHAPTER ELEVEN

  ‘Did you end up watching the hockey game last night?’ It had been an hour since Grant had joined Millar in the ice fishing shack, and they were beginning to run out of things to talk about.

  ‘No, I missed it. Was it any good?’

  ‘First period was pretty boring, but the second and third were a lot of fun. Five goals in under twelve minutes in the third. Craziness.’ Grant jumped as the door suddenly swung open, and a
mini squall of snow whipped around the shack’s interior. Turning around, he saw three firefighters walk in, along with the original officer who had brought them to the scene. One of the firefighters was carrying a large chainsaw, which he set down carefully on the floor.

  ‘Glad you guys could make it,’ Millar said, standing up from the cot. ‘Detective Millar. This is Sergeant Grant.’

  ‘Nice to meet you,’ the lead firefighter said. ‘I’m Ling. This is Smith and Lemieux. So, this is going to be fun,’ he said, looking down at the hole in the ice, which had already started to freeze around the exposed arm. ‘Pretty sure there’s an entire body attached?’

  ‘Think so,’ Millar said. ‘Seems pretty heavy, but I guess it could be waterlogged or frozen. Not sure if it’s a snowmobiler, or what.’

  Ling leaned down towards the floor. ‘Could be, but I doubt it. The jacket’s not your typical outfit for someone out riding.’ He looked at the chain tied around the arm. ‘Smith, pass me a rope, I want to tie this off a bit better.’

  Smith removed a bag from her back and laid it on the floor. She unzipped it and pulled out a coil of thick white rope. ‘Here you go,’ she said, passing it to Ling.

  ‘Thanks.’ Ling began uncoiling a length of rope, passing one end back to Smith, wrapping the other end several times around the protruding arm and tying it off in an expert looking knot. ‘Alright. Smith, officers, I’m going to want you guys holding onto the rope.’

  Millar and Grant walked over to where Smith was standing and grabbed onto the end of the rope.

  ‘Hold tight, but don’t wrap it around your arm. You don’t want the weight to drop and have the rope dig in,’ Smith instructed.

  ‘Lemieux, you’re on the saw,’ Ling said.

  ‘Are you going to have to cut the floor?’ Grant asked.

  ‘Probably not, but maybe,’ said Ling. ‘Looks like there’s a big enough opening. If we cut out the ice as much as we can, we should be able to pull the body out. Well, as long as he isn’t too big. Then we may have some problems.’

  ‘Alright, this is going to get loud,’ Lemieux said as he picked up the chainsaw. ‘Once I start cutting, you may want to look the other way or keep your eyes closed. I can’t guarantee you won’t get showered with ice chips.’

  ***

  ‘All clear,’ Constable Curry called out from the second floor of the house. ‘I’m heading back down.’

  ‘Clear here too,’ Constable Carlson said.

  ‘Nothing downstairs either,’ called out one of the backup officers as he came up from the basement. ‘Nothing seems to be out of place down there.’

  ‘Okay, thanks. Can you let forensics know they can come in and get started?’

  ‘No problem.’

  ‘Find anything odd?’ Constable Carlson asked Constable Curry when he came down the stairs into the living room.

  ‘Nothing. Doesn’t look like anything was disturbed at all. You?’

  ‘Just in the room we saw from outside,’ Constable Carlson said. ‘Either whoever was in here got spooked and took off, or they were looking for something specific and they got lucky and found it right away.’

  ‘Or they knew where to look,’ Constable Curry said, walking over towards the office. He shined his light on the wall and flipped on the light switch using his gloved hand. ‘Looks like they dumped everything out from the desk. They emptied the shelves, too.’

  ‘Wonder what they were looking for.’

  ‘No idea. Well, I’ll give dispatch a call. Let them know no one’s here,’ Constable Curry said. ‘Guess we’ll find out if they want us to stick around, or what.’ He pulled out his radio. ‘Dispatch, this is Constable Curry.’

  ‘Go ahead for dispatch.’

  ‘We’ve finished our sweep here. No one was found in the house. One room had been ransacked, but that’s all. Forensics is starting to do their thing.’

  ‘Copy. The Captain wants you to give him a call. Do you have his office number?’

  ‘The Captain? Uh, yeah, I think so. I should have it in my cell. If not, I’ll call you back and get it.’

  ‘Sounds good. After you talk to him, let me know if you’re sticking around there or heading somewhere else.’

  ‘Will do.’ He pulled his phone out of his pocket and started flipping through his contacts list. ‘Wonder what the Captain wants me to call him for?’ He found the number and pressed dial.

  ‘Hello?’ the Captain answered after several rings.

  ‘Evening, Captain. It’s Constable Curry. I’m over at the Williams’ house.’

  ‘Constable, thanks for calling. So, what did you find over there? Anyone in the house?’

  ‘Negative, sir. No sign of anyone and no sign of forced entry. The back door was open, but the frame is intact, so it doesn’t look like it was kicked in or anything, and the lock looks like it’s in good shape. Front door is still locked and none of the windows are broken.’

  ‘Dispatch said earlier that it looked like some drawers were gone through.’

  ‘Yes, sir. I’m guessing it’s an office—there’s a desk and a shelf that have been dumped. Everything else in the house looks pristine.’

  ‘Alright. Have forensics go through that room, see if they can find anything. Also get them to look at the back door.’

  ‘They’re already working the back door, sir. But I’ll get them in here as soon as they’re done.’

  ‘Good. Tell them to give me a call whether they find anything or not. If the scene is secure, you can head back to your normal patrol. Good job tonight, Constable.’

  ‘Thank you, sir.’

  ***

  Lemieux finished cutting through the ice around the opening in the floor, being careful not to cut the floor itself, or worse, the body hanging just below the ice.

  ‘Alright, I’m going to have to cut the block into smaller chunks so we can pull the body out,’ he said. ‘I don’t want to nick the arm or rope. I think you’re going to have to lower it into the water a bit, just to get the arm out of the way.’

  They watched the arm slowly sink into the dark water as they slackened the rope. They could feel a slight tug on the body from the current below. Lemieux revved up the saw again and plunged the blade into the corner of the ice, spraying water and ice shards around the shack. Millar turned his face aside as he felt the icy spray. The sound of the chainsaw was amplified inside the confined walls, making it seem much louder than it was. It was a relief when Lemieux let off the throttle and allowed the saw to idle.

  Ling motioned to Lemieux to pull the saw away. He reached down into the hole in the floor and pulled out two large chunks of ice, freeing up a larger opening. ‘I think we should be good,’ he said. Lemieux turned off the saw and laid it on the floor, out of the way. Ling pushed down on the last large piece of ice in the hole, forcing it under the water opposite the direction that the rope was floating.

  ‘We good to go?’ Smith asked, tightening her grip on the rope and craning to see into the opening in the floor.

  ‘Should be good,’ Ling said. ‘Let’s slowly bring it up—see if we can get it through the hole. Lemieux, I may need you to help manoeuvre it out.’

  Lemieux squatted down next to Ling, ready to help grab onto the body once it made its appearance.

  ‘Alright, start pulling. Nice and easy. I don’t want it to get snagged or anything,’ Ling said.

  They started pulling on the rope, feeling the dead weight below the water being tugged by the current. Slowly, the gloved hand reappeared and breached the waterline, followed by the forearm. Another tug and the body stopped moving.

  ‘Hold on,’ Ling said. ‘I think it’s stuck under the ice.’ He reached into the freezing water and grabbed onto the fabric around the shoulder area. He tried pulling towards the centre of the opening but wasn’t able to move it. ‘Give it a tiny bit of slack,’ he said. He felt the body sink slightly back into the depths and was able to move it enough to free it from the ice below. ‘Right, pull it up again,’ he said
, guiding the body as it started inching its way up.

  The entire arm became visible, revealing an intact parka. No tears or damage were visible. The top of a head came out next, hair matted down with water. No tuque or hood.

  They continued to pull until the shoulders of the body caught on the sides of the ice. Ling tried turning the body slightly as it hung in the water, lining the shoulders up on a diagonal in the square opening. ‘We’re going to have to try and turn the shoulders in a bit,’ he said to Lemieux. Each man reached down and tried to fold the shoulders of the dangling body in. It didn’t take much to free them from the ice and the body continued its trip to the surface.

  Once the shoulders were free from the icy depths, Ling moved to the back of the body and grabbed it in a bear hug. ‘Okay, let’s get him out.’ As they struggled to free the entire body, Lemieux grabbed under the shoulder closest to him and helped pull.

  ‘That should be good,’ Ling panted, laying the body on the floor of the shack, the legs still dangling in the water. He sat back and caught his breath. ‘Good job, guys.’

  Millar and Grant dropped the rope, following Smith’s lead. Millar looked at his hands, red with the beginnings of rope burn. He probably should have worn his gloves. He wiped a few beads of sweat off his forehead. He looked down at the body lying on the floor. It seemed to be staring back at him, its eyes wide with fear and its mouth slightly parted.

  ‘His face doesn’t look bloated at all,’ Millar observed. ‘And not much discolouration, so I don’t think he’s been under that long. Strange that his jacket isn’t done up. And no hat.’

  ‘If he was wearing a loose-fitting tuque, it could have come off in the current,’ Ling said.

  ‘Yeah, I guess. Don’t think his jacket would become unzipped, though. You?’ Millar said, leaning down, looking at the zipper on the parka. ‘Doesn’t look like it’s damaged at all.’