Read Olivia's Mine Online

Authors: Janine McCaw

Tags: #romance, #history, #mining, #british columbia, #disasters, #britannia beach

Olivia's Mine (11 page)

BOOK: Olivia's Mine
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“Forgive me Sergeant Wolanski,” he said to
the man. “As you’ve heard, I need to head home. Some sort of family
crisis I gather. It’s just up the road, I will be back in a moment.
Mrs. Schwindt, my nanny, has a tendency to over-react. I’m sure it
will turn out to be nothing.”

“Well not all the time,” Sarah offered.
“Remember once, the house was on fire.”

McMichael rolled his eyes. “It was a small
fire in the chimney flue. Nothing to write home about, Sarah.”

“In that case,” Rudy stated, “I’ll go with
you. I’m good at emergencies. It comes with the job.”

“Thanks a lot,” McMichael said rather
sarcastically, to no one in particular, yet to everyone in the
room.

“Will you be coming back to the office?”
Sarah asked. “I could put the kettle on.”

“No, Sarah,” McMichael sighed. “I think the
officer will be a little too busy for socializing today, don’t
you?”

The two men went outside.

“She wasn’t asking about me, you know,”
McMichael said. “Funny she never seems to ask me whether I’m coming
back to the office. Are you married, officer Wolanski? Well, she’ll
keep nattering on at me until I find out, so I’d rather be done
with it.”

Rudy Wolanski smiled for a moment, taking in
his surroundings. McMichael’s secretary was a nice enough woman,
but not his type.

“No, I’m not,” the officer said matter of
factly, anxious to change the subject. “I gather you’ve had quite
the night.”

“We lost a lot of men, women and children
last night,” McMichael admitted. “As you probably noticed, a good
portion of the mountaintop came down last night in a landslide. It
happened just after midnight. Dr. Van den Broek will be able to
fill you in on the details as to the number of casualties and
injuries. I’m afraid I lost count somewhere after two a.m. I’ve
arranged a place for you to stay. Sarah will get you the keys. Did
you bring some medical personnel with you? Sarah had mentioned you
might.”

“Yes, two doctors and three nurses came up
with me. That’s all they could spare on such short notice.”

“I’ll take them. We’re normally very well
staffed on our own, but the whole town is a bit of a disaster area
at the moment. Did they go over to the hospital?”

“Yes, a tall redheaded woman led them
over.”

“That would have been Lucy Bentall. Beautiful
woman. She lost her entire family last night. Quite tragic. They
were in what’s left of that green house, mid-section. Her two
children and her husband lost their lives.”

“Well, that would explain why she was in a
somewhat catatonic state. She didn’t talk, just pointed out the
direction of the hospital and wandered ahead. She was definitely
still in a state of shock,” the constable noted.

McMichael was truly sorry to hear that. He
knew that on top of losing her family, she was now also homeless.
He though for a moment about the number of people that were now in
that position. He would have to do something about that. When he
was allowed some time to catch his breath.

They were close enough to the house now that
he could hear Mrs. Schwindt screaming at the top of her lungs. The
woman did have a loud, shrill voice when she wanted to. He would
have a word with her about that, again. The officer started to
hasten his pace, as he could see where the commotion was coming
from, but McMichael calmly waved his hand from side to side,
indicating to the officer there was no need to panic.

McMichael and the officer were soon upon his
doorstep where they found the nanny, his youngest daughter Lara,
and Jimmy Yada, engaged in a rather one-sided shouting match.

“Mrs. Schwindt,” McMichael said calmly, “what
seems to be the problem? There’s no need to shout, the whole
neighbourhood can hear you.”

Mrs. Schwindt was an older widower he had in
his employ since before his wife died. At times he felt she was a
bit too stern for his children, but he needed a firm hand to guide
them. He was called away from his home a lot, and he wanted to keep
some continuity in their lives after their mother’s death. She was
a big woman, her long grey hair which she steadfastly refused to
cut, drawn up each morning into a tight bun. She wore her big black
boots under her dress, even in the heat of summer. She was not a
woman given to breaking from her rigid routine.

“This little Japanese child,” Mrs. Schwindt
said, pointing to young Jimmy, “is trying to poison your children
by giving them heaven knows what.”

The young boy was doing his best to try to
understand why Mrs. Schwindt was so upset. He looked at the two men
and shrugged.

The nanny noticed the officer.

“You should probably take him away. To jail,”
she said indignantly.

Jimmy’s eyes grew wide.

“Relax Jimmy, there will be no jail for you
today,” McMichael began, embarrassed. “Mrs Schwindt, young master
Yada is giving Lara tea. TEA. Do you hear me? And furthermore, I
told him it was perfectly fine to give anyone he liked some
tea.”

“Herbal tea,” Jimmy corrected him.

“Herbal tea it was.”

“Chamomile,” Jimmy said to the officer.

“You see Mrs. Schwindt, I’m afraid you owe
our little doctor here an apology, and perhaps even some
lunch.”

McMichael tussled the boy’s hair
good-naturedly.

“Jimmy, why don’t you take a break, hmm? Just
leave your wagon and play with Lara for a while. Mrs. Schwindt will
make you more boiled water when you are finished if you’d like to
continue around the neighbourhood.” He turned to the nanny.

“Now if you don’t mind Mrs. Schwindt, the
officer and I will return to more pressing matters.”

“Can I keep the nickel?” the boy asked,
keeping it tucked safely in his pocket.

“Of course you can, Jimmy,” McMichael
answered.

“I forgot to say thank you,” Jimmy said

“You earned it.”

He once again saw a smile on the boy’s
face.

As they began walking back to the office,
McMichael told Rudy the story of the boy’s heroics the previous
night.

“Not to worry, I am not employing child
labour,” he assured the officer. “Jimmy just likes to try to help
people, and most of the people, Mrs. Schwindt not withstanding,
seem to appreciate his efforts. He is the son of the assayer. He’s
quite a remarkable lad, really. Bright boy, I must say.”

McMichael wasn’t sure how much more he wanted
to tell the officer about the town and its people. Let him discover
it on his own, he thought.

“Well then, there you have it. Welcome to
Britannia, Officer Wolanski. You’re Polish, I assume?”

“Does it make a difference?” the officer
asked.

“Not to me,” he said, “but this is, after
all, a small town. People are a bit set in their ways. Nationality
is always a topic of conversation around here.”

“I see that. I can handle it,” the officer
said.

“I’m sure you can,” McMichael agreed. “We’re
a bit unusual here in Britannia that there are many cultures all
trying to live together. Your own neighbours while you’re here are
Ukrainian, I believe. I hope that’s okay. I may have to move some
of the European families around if this talk of war continues.
You’ll have plenty to do here Officer Wolanski, particularly after
payday. It gets a little rowdy on Fridays, down at the bar. If they
get into trouble, do what you want with them over the weekend, but
remember I need them back to work on Monday unless they’ve murdered
somebody.”

“I’ll try to keep that in mind, J.W.”

“Stuart Collin calls me J.W.,” McMichael
corrected him. “You can call me Mr. McMichael, or just
McMichael.”

Rudy had just gained some valuable insight
into the character of the mining boss.

“Fine, Mr. McMichael. And you can call me
Sergeant Wolanski, not Officer Wolanski, or just Wolanski, all
things being equal.”

“Sergeant?” McMichael questioned. “I think
there’s just one of you. Who exactly are you in charge of?”

“There’s one of me for now,” Wolanski
threatened.

Down at the dock, McMichael could see
Frenchie Cates lowering his boat’s flags to half-mast. His boat
would be used as transportation for many of the bodies that needed
to go to their families in Vancouver and beyond. A few wooden boxes
were already being lined up to be brought on board.

“I don’t know where you want to begin,”
McMichael said. “I’ll leave that to you. When you’ve got a feel for
the situation, come back and I’ll show you the engineering
report.”

“And here our friend Chief Collin said I’d
have a hard time doing this investigation without you watching over
me constantly,” Rudy commented, sizing up McMichael.

McMichael looked the sergeant directly in the
eye and set him straight.

“When it comes to the mine, that’s my
business. You want to go in there, you need an escort, just like
anyone else. You are not an employee. We do tours for the families
on holidays if you’re so inclined. You want anything else in there,
you’ll need a warrant.”

“Oh, that’s how it’s going to be, is it?” the
sergeant remarked.

“That’s how it’s going to be. Having said
that, anything that happened in the disaster last night, you’ve got
free reign on. I’ll make everyone and everything available to you
with reasonable notice. I’ve got nothing to hide.”

“I appreciate that,” the sergeant said. “I
understand the old police office is still empty. We’ve made
arrangements with the provincial government office to take over the
lease. I’ll need the keys to it. I gather a set was left here with
a caretaker in case of emergency. Perhaps the caretaker can do a
quick clean of it. Tomorrow would be fine. Send me the bill of
course. For now, I’m going to take a walk through the town, survey
the situation and talk to a few people. I think I’ll start with the
doctor, like you said. Van den Broek, right? I’ll find him at the
hospital I trust? No need to show me the way, I’m sure I can
manage.”

The sergeant paused for a moment, gathering
his thoughts.

“Oh,” he added, a smirk crossing his face.
“You never asked whether anyone else came up with the medical staff
and myself. Now that I think about it, I believe there was. I
believe a newspaper reporter was on board. Nosy people, reporters.
Always snooping around, digging up dirt, and getting paid for it at
that. But I don’t have to tell a man like you that, do I Mr.
McMichael? You might want to go spend some time with him. Maybe
have your man Ferguson show him around? Oh yes, Mr. McMichael, I
know all about your Mr. Ferguson.”

Sergeant Wolanski watched McMichael for any
outward reaction, but there was none.

“This man McMichael, he’s a cool operator,”
the lawman thought to himself. “Good-day, McMichael,” he said
aloud.

Sergeant Wolanski began a solitary walk over
to the hospital. His initial meeting with McMichael went pretty
much like his own boss had told him it would. He wasn’t here to be
friends with McMichael, and that was just as well. The mining boss
didn’t leave a good first impression upon him. Arrogant, stubborn
and full of himself. He had heard all the stories, and wondered how
one man could have gained so much power in one tiny little
town.

Once out of sight of the sergeant, McMichael
felt the need to loosen his collar. He could see a stranger with a
camera making his way up to the mine. Wolanski was right, it was
time to go find Les, tell him to let the photographer take a few
pictures of the slide, not the operations themselves, and then find
a way to get the newsman back on Frenchie’s funeral boat and out of
town that night. It was inevitable that the Vancouver newspaper
would want some pictures, but McMichael didn’t want them hanging
around longer than necessary.

Meanwhile, back at the house and once out of
sight of her boss, Mrs. Schwindt turned on Jimmy once again.

“Get out, you filthy little foreigner,” she
said. “And don’t come back.”

“But I want to play with Jimmy,” Lara
protested. “We were having fun.”

Jimmy looked at the big, overbearing woman
before him.

“What is wrong with you?” he asked
innocently, which only infuriated Mrs. Schwindt more.

“Get out of here now,” she said, waiving a
long bony finger in his face.

Lara started to cry.

“Now look what you have done,” she said to
Jimmy, grabbing Lara by the hand and taking her inside. Lara turned
around to look at the boy. She managed to free her hand from the
nanny to wave her fingers in a good-bye motion.

Jimmy waved back. He stood for a moment
outside the home and thought about what had just happened. He
couldn’t figure out what he had done wrong, or why the woman didn’t
like him very much. Lara liked him. McMichael seemed to like him,
and McMichael, he had heard, didn’t seem to like a lot of people.
It must just be the old woman, he thought. His mother often said in
Japanese to his father, when she thought Jimmy wasn’t listening,
that McMichael had a bee up his bum. Jimmy figured that was what
made him buzz around yelling at people so much. That must be it.
Too many bees in that house.

Sarah, disappointed that the officer was not
immediately coming back inside the office, had decided to go home
for some lunch. She hadn’t eaten since the night before and even
McMichael couldn’t begrudge her some time to eat. As she glanced up
the road, she caught sight of the young male reporter, and her pace
quickened. Who was this new man? So absorbed with this thought, she
almost ran into Jimmy as he came towards her. But the young boy’s
head was hanging down and he seemed troubled, which was quite
unlike the friendly little boy she had come to know. She instantly
stopped.

“Is everything okay Jimmy?” she asked.

He glanced up at the woman. It was Sarah. He
liked Sarah. He smiled at her.

“Yes mam,” he said. “Would you like some tea?
It’s herbal.”

BOOK: Olivia's Mine
4.41Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
ads

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