Authors: Giles Blunt
“A restaurant. Part-time. I’m a cook.”
“Don’t tell me,” Cardinal said. “Bistro Champlain.”
“That’s right.” A puzzled look crossed her face. Her features were small, perfectly formed, and she had a dark-eyed intensity that without too much effort on her part might cause a married man to lose his head.
“Okay,” Cardinal said. “Why did this man attack you?”
“Because of what I saw. In the Trout Lake house. Not saw—heard.”
“You’re talking about the couple that was murdered.”
“Look, I admit I was in the house, okay? I steal stuff once in a while and the place looked empty. But I didn’t have anything to do with any killing. I didn’t know any of those people. I was checking the place out when I heard voices, and I hid.”
“Where’d you hide?”
“Under a bed.”
“How’d you break in?”
“What?”
“How’d you break in, Samantha?”
“The back door. I used a credit card. So I heard these voices and I hid under the bed. It sounded like the guy was trying to sell them the house, pointing out all the good points and stuff. I figured they’d be there a few
minutes and then go, but then there were gunshots. I thought, That’s it, I’m outta here. So I smashed the window and climbed out.”
“How’d you smash the window?”
“I used a chair. I swung it as hard as I could.”
“Which is how you cut your knee. Climbing out.”
She nodded. “I jumped out and ran. He came after me. My car was a little ways up the road.”
“At the hydro turnoff?”
“Yeah. I got to it and he actually shot at me. He hit the car a couple of times and I took off. I don’t know if he got my licence plate or what. I lost my phone when I jumped and I’m pretty sure he has it. I’ve been getting calls.”
“What kind of calls? Threatening?”
“Hang-ups. He stays on the line awhile but doesn’t say anything.”
“Do you know for a fact these were from your cellphone?”
“The number was blocked. But who cares what phone he used? You’ve got him locked up, right? You better. He cuts people’s heads off, for God’s sake.”
“The man who attacked you is under guard and handcuffed to a hospital bed—you don’t have to worry about him right now. But listen, Samantha, only part of what you’re telling me is true. I know you hid under the bed, and you ran like you said. And damage to your car matches our findings at the scene. But I also know about Randall Wishart, so you don’t have to hold anything back in order to protect him.”
Her eyebrows went up, her dark eyes went perfectly round. “I’m not protecting anybody.”
“Samantha, I know you’re not a thief. And I know you didn’t break into that house with a credit card. You went out there with Randall, who of course has a key.”
The innocent expression vanished. She looked at him with dark, implacable eyes.
“Wishart got a friend to cover for him, in case his wife found out. Troy Campbell? To say they were watching the game together. But it turns out Troy was actually at work that night.”
Cardinal waited. Eventually she said, “We didn’t have anyplace else to go. We didn’t take anything or hurt anything. Randall was super careful
about stuff like that. Even the bed—we put a blanket over it so it wouldn’t get messed up.”
“I know you did. A blue blanket.”
“It sounds bad. I know it sounds bad. But it isn’t like that. Do you know what it’s like to be in love and not be able to see each other?”
“Why don’t you tell me.”
“It’s horrible. It’s agony. I hate it. Everybody else gets to go places together, do things together. Kiss. Hold hands in public. Whatever they want. Even couples that aren’t that happy together. But here we are, crazy about each other, and we have to skulk around like criminals and wait until some special opportunity comes up. We get to see each other like every three weeks or so. I can’t even call him hardly. And he can’t call me too often either.”
“You ever wonder why Randall doesn’t leave his wife?”
“He’s going to. He just doesn’t want to hurt her, and he’s waiting for a good moment. He has to be careful—I mean, he works for her father and all. It’s not like it’s something he can do right away.”
“Samantha, you’ve been through a lot, but I’m afraid I have to tell you something that’s going to upset your life even more.”
The dark eyes lost their implacability. The black eyebrows went up again, and suddenly she was a kid and Cardinal wished he could protect her from what he was about to say.
“You’re right that the man who attacked you wasn’t a complete stranger. It wasn’t out of the blue. But it wasn’t the man who chased you out at Trout Lake.”
“It was. He kept saying, ‘You didn’t see anything! You don’t know anything!’ Who else is going to come after me with a crowbar, for God’s sake?”
“Well, you’re right—it was definitely because someone doesn’t want you to testify. Someone who knows where you live. Someone who knows what time you got off work. Someone who knew you’d be taking the bus home.”
“I told you—the guy has my cellphone.”
“Which might give him your name and address.”
“The other stuff too. Champlain’s number is on there.”
“What’s it listed as? ‘Where I work on Wednesday, Thursday, Friday, from six to ten p.m.’?”
“What are you getting at? I don’t know what you’re trying to tell me. Will you please just tell me?”
Cardinal could hear the rising panic in her voice, the same panic he had heard in her phone message. She gripped the edges of the exam table, and her mouth opened as if she would say more—something that might stop this horrible cop from ruining her life. But some other emotion—perhaps her sense, not yet acknowledged, that dread was about to be transformed into grief—made her lower lip tremble and the dark eyes fill, and Cardinal could not remember the last time he had seen a human being so vulnerable.
“H
OW AM
I
SUPPOSED TO GET DOWN?”
Nikki said. She was hanging by her knees from a tree branch. She was high enough that, even upside down, her face was a foot higher than Lemur’s. He was looking up at her, shaking his head in his solemn way. A frigid breeze blew across her belly where her jacket and sweater had fallen open.
“Cover yourself up,” Lemur said. “Your stomach. Don’t show yourself like that.”
“Perv. You getting turned on?”
“It’s not our way. You’ve heard Papa talk about modesty.”
“You just don’t like to look at girls cuz you’re a faggot.”
“Don’t call me that.”
“Chill, Lemur—I’m just kidding.”
“Don’t call me names. I don’t call you names. We’re here to respect each other. You’re not gonna get a lot of that outside the family, and neither am I. Not yet, anyway.”
Nikki didn’t like that talk of respect. The only thing people had ever respected about her was her ass. Soon as they saw her face, it was a whole other story. She pulled herself up so that she was sitting on the branch. The sensation of all the blood now draining from her head made her
woozy. She looked up to where she had climbed to loop the rope over a high branch. “I can’t believe I went up that high. I haven’t climbed a tree since I was a kid.”
“You’re thirteen years old. You still are a kid.”
“You’re three years older. Big deal.”
“Toss me the rope, then come on down.”
“I told you, I don’t know how.” She let the rope go and it slithered down through the branches.
“Just swing down and hang from the branch by your hands.”
“Uh-huh. And if I break my ankle? Papa will kill you. You’re supposed to protect me.”
“You’re family, Nikki—I will always protect you. But you have to be self-reliant, too.”
Still holding tight, Nikki slid back and down until her heels caught on the branch so that she was swinging under it, clinging almost upside down from hands and ankles. She let go with her ankles so that she was stretched out full now, hanging just from her hands, the cold bark biting into her fingers. She let herself dangle, feeling the stretch all the way down to her toes. Cold air on her stomach again. She wanted Lemur to touch it. Eight months with this weird family and she still had no idea how to be with a male who didn’t try to fuck her. Lying down in the dark, they couldn’t see her stupid face.
“You’re showing yourself again.”
“Don’t be such a tard. I’m hanging from a fucking tree.”
“You have to take care for yourself, Nikki. Watch your language, too. You can’t be using the F-word. Men have strong desires.”
“You don’t. Not for girls, anyway.”
“Don’t start with that again. I’m trying to be nice to you.”
“I know all about men’s desires,” she said from between upstretched arms. “I bet you all had a good laugh about it when Papa took me in that night.” She let go. Her feet hit the ground hard and she staggered backwards.
Lemur steadied her, strong hands gripping her biceps.
“You can let go of me now, perv.”
“Nobody laughed at you,” Lemur said. “Night he brought you in, Papa said, ‘Nikki’s been doing what she has to do to survive. I won’t hear her criticized for it.’”
Nikki imitated Papa’s tone. “‘I won’t hear her criticized for it.’”
Lemur smiled. He had a good smile—the gap in his front teeth made him look like a little kid—but he didn’t use it much. “Okay, I’m going to tie this to the rear axle.”
Ignoring the snow, Lemur got down on his back and slid under the Range Rover. All Nikki could see were his legs and the rope jerking beside them as he tied it. She thought about making a grab for his crotch, going down on him right here in the snow. See exactly how faggoty he might be.
“Why are we doing this, anyway?” she said to his legs. “Who in their right mind is going to come out here?”
Lemur emerged from under the car and stood up, swatting snow from his pants. “You want to question Papa, you go right ahead. But you may have noticed, if you’re going to stay in this family, you don’t ask too many questions.” He got into the Range Rover and started it. He rolled down the window and said, “Let me know when the rock’s about twenty feet up.”
The car inched forward, pulling the rope taut. The huge rock Lemur had fixed to the other end with many complicated knots began to rise in the air. When it was about twenty feet up, she called out, “Stop!”
Lemur got out and showed her how to tie the loop, how to set it to be tripped by an unwary footstep. “Okay, let’s try it out. Step in the loop, there.”
“I’m not stepping on that thing.”
Lemur gave her a look. He didn’t have to say anything. It was the family look. It said, This is family business and you just get it done. “It’s not gonna hurt, right?”
“No.”
Nikki stomped one foot on the hidden trigger. The loop slithered closed round her ankle and she was hoisted into the air as the counterweight slammed to the ground. “Ow, Lemur. What the fuck.”
“Watch your language.”
“I hit my head, you jerk-off.”
“Nikki, you have to stop cursing. It’s a sign of weakness, and members of this family are not weak. You use language like that, Papa’s gonna go berserk.”
Nikki was dangling upside down from one ankle, the snowy forest floor swinging crazily beneath her. “Just get me down before I throw up. The thing works, okay? Anybody comes along this trail, they’re totally fucked—sorry!—trapped. Don’t wanna hurt those virgin ears of yours.”
In the kitchen, Papa had just finished his lunch and was sitting at the table picking his teeth and listening to the radio. There were a lot of local ads, but it kept promising news. Jack was staring out the window, where a light snow was falling.
Papa put the toothpick on the plate and pushed the plate aside. Then he rested his elbows on the table and leaned his face into his hands, like a man suffering a tragedy. After a while he said, “God. I have such thoughts.”
His words were muffled. Jack turned from the window and said, “What’d you say?”
“Such thoughts come to me,” Papa said, his face still in his hands. “Such images.”
“I’m aware of it,” Jack said. “It’s not like you’re the one got to deal with it.”
“Picture this. Neighbours hear a barking dog. As far as they know, the people who live in that particular house are away. The barking goes on all through the night. Finally the police come and, after trying the doorbell, after trying to see in the windows, they bust the door open. What they find inside beggars the imagination. A dog is barking all right, but the dog is sewn inside a human body, his dog head emerging where the human head should be.”
Jack turned back to the window. “Personally, I don’t get the attraction of headless bodies—having seen ’em up close and all.”
“Shh. Listen.”
The local newscast opened with an item about a First Nations girl who had shot an assailant with a crossbow.
“A crossbow,” Papa said. “Have to give her points for that.”
A police spokesman related that the girl was not being charged with anything, and her alleged attacker was in hospital but expected to survive his injury.
Meanwhile, residents of Algonquin Bay continue to live in fear, wondering if they should expect more murders following last Thursday’s grisly double slaying. Police believe they have now identified the victims, but that information is being withheld pending notification of next of kin. As to the killer or killers, police still seem pretty much in the dark. We spoke to Detective John Cardinal of the Algonquin Bay police service earlier today
.
The detective’s voice came on.
“This investigation is still in its beginning stages, but at least it’s now on solid ground and we have a number of different leads to follow up.” CKAT will keep you updated as further developments unfold
.
“‘In fear,’” Papa said. “I like that, ‘in fear.’ In fear is exactly the way people should be living. Fear is healthy. Fear is good. There’s a new world coming, and it’s nothing like the old world.”
“Chaos is coming,” Jack said. “Hold on to your hats.” He traced
K-OS
in the condensation on the window.
“Guided chaos. Exactly right.”
Jack drew a happy face in the
O
. “Lemur is taking an awful long time to set that trap. Maybe I should go find them.”