‘Well, that I don’t know. Maybe it got snagged on something and ended up unzipping. Never seen it happen before, but it’s possible. So, what’s the plan now, Detective?’ Ling asked, standing back up. Lemieux started untying the rope from the body.
‘I’ll call the coroner—see if she wants to come out before we move the body or if we can just bring it in. Definitely doesn’t seem like a snowmobiler. Looks like he’s wearing dress pants. And no helmet, but I guess there are enough idiots out there that don’t think they need them.’
‘Maybe he was cutting across the ice and hit a thin spot,’ Grant said. ‘There’s open water not too far upriver from here at the old paper plant. They have the flues open slightly on the dam year-round. Maybe he was coming back from the bars over in Gatineau and was looking for a short cut.’
‘Wouldn’t be the first time,’ Ling said. ‘Even with the bridges, people think it’s easier on the ice. More of a direct route, I guess.’
Millar looked at the body. “Heckuva price to pay for taking a shortcut.’
CHAPTER TWELVE
‘Alright, thanks for letting me know. Have your guys pack up. I’ll send someone over to keep watch for the night, just in case anyone comes back or anything. Keep me informed.’ The Captain hung up his phone and rubbed his temples. His bow tie was already on his desk and his jacket was draped over his chair. ‘Not the way I expected tonight to go,’ he said to himself as he picked up the phone receiver again.
‘Hello?’
‘Penner? Sounds like the party is still in full force there.’
‘Yeah, most people are still here. I think the booze is really kicking in for some of them. Nothing like free alcohol to get people chatting. I’m just heading to the main lobby—I should be able to hear a bit better.’
‘Any sign of Mark?’
‘No, sir. No one’s seen or heard from him at all. Did they find anything at his place?’
‘They pulled some good prints, both from the back door and from his office, but they could be his or Beverly’s. Forensics will run them through AFIS, see if they come back with a hit. Mark’s prints will be on file. Not sure about Beverly’s, though.’
‘So, do you want me to keep Beverly here for a while longer, or what? I think she’s pretty worried and about ready to get away from everyone here.’
‘FIS is still at her place, so see if she minds sticking around there for another forty minutes, or so. If she really wants to leave the gala, let me know and I’ll send the car for the two of you. You can either go for a coffee somewhere, if you don’t mind keeping her company, or you can come back here for a bit. I don’t think going home to a house full of officers and forensics would be the best thing for her right now.’
‘Probably not. I’ll go talk with her and see what she wants to do. If you don’t hear back from me, she’s okay with hanging out here for a while longer. Otherwise, I’ll give you a call. Let me know when you’re sending your car so we can be ready to go.’
‘Sounds good. Thanks for sticking around. I’m sure this isn’t what you had in mind when I invited you.’
‘What do you mean? I got to dress up, look at some art and drink some free wine. What could be better?’
‘I’ll remember that’s all it takes to keep you happy. I’ll talk to you soon.’
He placed the receiver back on the phone and picked up the mug that sat on the edge of his desk. Empty. He really shouldn’t have another coffee at this time of night—he knew he would never get to sleep—but he didn’t know when he would be leaving. His leather chair creaked as he stood up and started making his way to the kitchen. He had only gotten a few steps from his office when he heard his phone ring. He looked up to the ceiling and sighed. Turning, he went back into his office, put the mug back in its place and picked up the phone on the third ring.
‘Yes?’
‘Hello, Captain? It’s Constable Seguin at dispatch. I wasn’t sure if you would be in the office or not. Figured I’d give it a chance.’
‘Hi, Ben. What’s up?’
‘Well, I just got a call from Detective Millar. He thought I should get in touch with you.’
‘Terry? Why?’
‘Well, sir, he was called out earlier to an ice fishing shack down on the Ottawa river, behind Parliament. A fisherman hooked into a body.’
‘Really? Not the type of catch he was hoping for, I’m sure. So, why’d Detective Millar want you to call me?’
‘Well, sir, he called Dr. Pelow to see if she wanted to head out to the scene before they moved the body, but she said they could just give it a quick once over to see if it looked like foul play or anything. If it just seemed like a drowning, they could bring the body in and she would look at it in the morning. But if it looked like a shooting or stabbing or anything, she would go out and look. Where it was in the water, there probably wouldn’t be any trace evidence to find.’
‘Okay? So?’
‘Well, they didn’t see anything obvious. No blood on his coat, no holes from a bullet or slashes from a knife. When Sergeant Grant had a good look at the victim, he was pretty sure he recognized him.’
‘And?’
‘It’s Mark Williams, the politician.’ There was a long pause. ‘Sir?’
‘Sorry. Is he sure?’
‘Yes, sir. They found his wallet in his jacket pocket. There was no noticeable trauma to the body, so Detective Millar and the firefighters that went out to assist on the recovery are bringing the body to the morgue. Dr. Pelow will be doing an autopsy first thing in the morning. Detective Millar knew you were friends with Mr. Williams and wanted you to know before it got out in the press somehow. He said once they have the body back on shore he would go and inform the next of kin.’
‘Call him back and tell him I’ll let Mark’s wife know. When he’s done out there, he can come back to the precinct. I’ll be here for a while.’
‘Yes, sir. I’ll let him know right away.’
The pounding in the Captain’s temples intensified and he briefly closed his eyes. ‘What happened, Mark?’ he wondered. For what felt like the hundredth time that evening he picked up the phone again, dialled and waited.
‘Hi, Penner. It’s me again. I’m sending the car to bring Beverly back here. They found Mark.’
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
It was almost nine o’clock the next morning before Millar finally walked into Joe’s Diner, the local breakfast joint where cops and locals liked to congregate before starting their day. Or where the night owls liked to end theirs. He scanned the crowded room and saw Penner sitting at a small table in the corner with Grant.
‘You’re late, as usual,’ Penner said, taking a bite of sausage. She was wearing her more familiar dark grey suit jacket and slacks.
‘I had a call scheduled with Tina first thing this morning that I totally forgot about,’ Millar said, grabbing a potato off Grant’s plate as he sat down. ‘I was almost out the door when the phone rang. Glad I didn’t miss it. I don’t get too many chances to talk to her these days.’
‘How’s she doing?’ asked Penner.
‘Not too bad,’ Millar said, trying to get Joe’s attention. ‘Hard to believe she’s been locked up for almost three years already. Man, time goes quick.’
‘When’s she getting transferred?’
‘On her eighteenth birthday. Well, just after it, I think, where her birthday’s on Christmas Day. I have to talk to her lawyer, see if he knows for sure. I know it’s supposed to be on her birthday—they don’t want anyone over eighteen in the juvenile penitentiary. But, where it’s a holiday, I don’t know what will happen.’
‘Nice birthday gift,’ Penner said.
‘Well, we knew it was coming. I am worried about how she’s going to adjust there. She’s been doing pretty well where she is. She finished her high school courses and she’s still going to therapy. I guess I still look at her as a kid—not someone who should be going to adult prison.’
Joe, the diner’s owner, came over
to the table with a pot of coffee. ‘Terry, good to see you,’ he said, pouring a cup of coffee for Millar and filling the cups of Penner and Grant. ‘The usual?’
Millar looked at his watch. ‘Yeah, I should have time to scoff it down. Got to get to an autopsy for nine thirty. Don’t want Faye getting mad at me again.’
‘You really should try and get on her good side, you know. Makes working with her so much easier.’ Joe, a retired police officer, would know. Grant still hadn’t finished his breakfast, a few potatoes and a strip of bacon remained, but Joe picked up Penner’s empty plate. ‘Anything else, Sue?’
‘I’ll get some more toast if I could. Do you have any more of that lime marmalade?’
‘I’ll bring out a fresh jar for you,’ Joe said, walking over to the kitchen to tell the cook to start Millar’s breakfast, stopping on the way to fill some empty coffee cups.
‘So, how was the date last night?’ asked Millar.
‘Most of it was good—got to see some fabulous art. The Williams family has some amazing pieces. I ended up meeting one of the artist’s grandsons who told me all about his grandfather and I got to check out some of his own works, too.’
‘Sounds like more fun than our night,’ Grant said, picking up his last piece of bacon with his fingers. ‘Nothing like hanging out in a small shack on the ice with five other people and a dead body. And when we had to get the body back to the shore, the wind was howling something fierce! Thought I was going to get frostbite on my ears.’
‘Something fierce?’ said Penner quizzically.
‘Yeah, something fierce. You know, really hard.’
‘I understood what you meant—I just don’t know if I’ve ever heard anyone say it before.’
‘Really? I thought that was a pretty common expression. Hmm, maybe it’s more of a valley expression or something. Anyway, I would have rather spent my night looking at art than walking around on the ice with a body.’
‘Well, maybe if you were a bit cuter, the Captain would have asked you on the date instead of me,’ Penner laughed.
‘What do you mean? I’m pretty cute,’ Grant protested.
‘Just because your momma says it, doesn’t make it true.’
‘Ouch!’
‘Here you go, Terry,’ Joe said, putting a plate of bacon, sausage, ham, three sunny-side-up eggs, hash browns and white toast in front of Millar. ‘And your toast, my dear,’ he said to Penner. ‘Anything else for you, Neil?’ he asked Grant as he picked up his empty plate.
‘No, I’m good. Thanks, Joe.’
‘My pleasure,’ Joe said, stopping on the way back to the kitchen to drop off a bill at a table of uniformed officers.
‘How late were you at the precinct last night?’ Grant asked Millar as he sipped his coffee.
‘Probably didn’t get out of there until two, two-thirty, maybe,’ said Millar between bites. ‘The Captain wanted me to give him a briefing of what happened. Then I decided to actually write up my report while it was still fresh in my mind.’
Penner snorted. ‘Probably a first. Must have given the Captain a heart attack when you dropped it off.’
‘Pretty much. Did you stick around long after you came back?’ asked Millar.
‘No. I didn’t really want to be there when the Captain told Beverly that her husband was dead. If someone else is taking care of a death notice, I’m all for not being there,’ Penner said, spreading more marmalade on her toast. ‘Don’t think she took it too well. I heard her crying when I walked by his office on the way to the elevator.’
‘Can you blame her?’ said Millar. ‘She saw him off to work in the morning and then spent the whole day looking forward to celebrating with him that night.’
‘Any idea what happened to him? From what I gathered last night, he had an engagement during the day at a school somewhere. Then he was supposed to stop by his office to pick up his suit. After that, his only plan was to head to the museum for the gala.’ Penner took another bite of toast. ‘Not too sure where the school was, but his office isn’t anywhere near where you found his body.’
‘Really don’t know.’ Finishing his breakfast in record time, Millar pushed his plate back. ‘From what we saw last night, there were no obvious marks on his body to indicate what happened. But, then again, we could only see his face and hands. Guess we’ll have to wait and see what Faye finds.’
Grant checked the time on his phone. ‘Speaking of which, we should get going if we don’t want to be late. Joe, can we get the bill, please?’ he called out as Joe passed by on his way to the kitchen again.
‘Sure thing. Just give me a minute.’
‘Thanks. I think it’s my turn to pay this week. If you want, I’ll meet you at your car. I assume we’ll head over together?’ Grant asked, pulling his wallet out of his back pocket.
‘You know it’s bad for your back to sit on your wallet all day, right?’ Penner said.
‘Yes, mom,’ he said sarcastically, standing up. ‘I’ll see you outside in a minute.’
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
A mere fifteen minutes later, Penner pulled her car into one of the parking spots behind the medical building that housed the coroner’s office. Traffic was light and the snowplows had been out working most of the night. The weather stations were calling for another dumping of snow later in the afternoon, so it seemed like a lot of the government workers had decided to work from home or take the day off. School buses had been cancelled again, so parents had to stay home with any young children.
Millar was almost inside the building by the time Grant had unfolded himself from the backseat of the car. He really should have sat behind Penner—she didn’t recline the seat back quite as far as Millar did. Most people would have asked the person in the backseat if they had enough room, but Millar wasn’t most people. Especially when it came to Grant. He liked Grant well enough, but he hadn’t been on the team all that long and Millar didn’t believe in going easy on the new guy.
Penner waited at the main entrance until Grant finally caught up. She pushed the lock button on her key fob, sounding the horn as the doors locked. Inside the building, Millar was rubbing his hands together.
‘Every year I say it’s going to be my last winter here. I’m sure I could get a job somewhere warm,’ Millar said, as they walked towards the elevator bay. He pushed the down button and they waited.
‘Where would you go, though? Anywhere in Canada you’re going to get winter. The Maritimes are gorgeous, but they can get hit pretty hard,’ said Penner. ‘West Coast doesn’t get much snow, but it does get a lot of rain, and it’s so expensive. You’d have to sell a lot more of your books to be able to move out there.’
‘Or be on the take,’ Millar smiled. ‘Maybe I’ll get lucky and win the lottery one of these days.’
‘Well, if you do, make sure you remember me.’ Penner was the first out of the elevator and turned towards the autopsy room. She opened the door and walked inside the sterile room. Faye Pelow and her assistant, Andrew, were already standing beside the table where Mark Williams’ body was lying face up. His naked upper body was uncovered. A white sheet covered his lower half from the waist down, except for his left foot which was poking out. The sole of his foot had an eerie blue tinge to it.
Standing at the rear of the room was a young woman whose auburn hair was tied in a tight bun on the top of her head. She was wearing a pair of red-rimmed glasses that almost clashed with the colour of her hair. A grey, short-sleeved, button-up shirt was tucked loosely into a distinctive pair of dark blue pants with a gold stripe down the outside of each thigh. Black ankle boots.
‘Is that RCMP?’ Grant whispered to Penner. ‘What’s a jockey doing here?’ he said, louder than he intended to.
‘We don’t all ride horses, you know.’ The female officer walked towards them. In much of Canada, the Royal Canadian Mounted Police are the primary policing agency—many cities don’t have their own police force. ‘Corporal Natasha Kulcheski,’ she said, extending her hand to P
enner.
‘Detective Sue Penner. This is Detective Terry Millar and Sergeant Cornelius Grant.’
‘Just Neil’s fine,’ Grant said, quickly.
‘So, what is the RCMP doing here, if you don’t mind us asking,’ said Penner. ‘Hey, Faye. Andrew.’
Dr. Pelow and Andrew looked up from the body and waved, then went back to their examination.
‘Our office got a call this morning that Mr. Williams was found dead. Since he’s a Member of Parliament, we were called in to oversee the autopsy. I believe my Chief had a conversation with your Captain this morning,’ Kulcheski explained as the group walked over to the examination table. ‘I was just told that he had been found dead and that I was to attend the autopsy this morning. I get my assignment and I do it.’
‘I guess news travels fast. Any idea who called it in?’ asked Millar.
‘I believe it was Mr. Williams’ assistant, but I’m not exactly sure. Who called it in isn’t that important, at least not for right now, I’m more concerned with how he died. Once I know that, then I can decide if who called it in to our office is important or not.’ Kulcheski leaned over beside Dr. Pelow to have a better look at the body laying on the cold metal table. ‘Any indications yet as to what may have happened?’
‘Not so far, but we’ve just gotten started,’ Faye said, pulling her mask down around her chin. ‘I haven’t seen any signs of trauma on his body that are consistent with shooting, stabbing or strangulation. He’s got some good abrasions on his knees, like he might have fallen recently. Quite a few abrasions on the back of his head, shoulders and down his back, but those seem to be from after death. Probably from when he went under the ice. From their placement, I would assume he was on his stomach and went under headfirst. He does have this one, small red mark on his upper thigh,’ she said, pulling aside the sheet, pointing to a tiny red dot on the outside of the right leg. ‘Could be nothing, but other than the bruising, it’s the only mark on his body.’
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