Lightning at 200 Durham Street

by Ron Finch

  “As a matter of fact, there is,” said Chief Petrovic. “It’s really fortunate that you dropped in today. You can provide a courier service.”

  “You have my attention,” said Det. O’Neill. “What’s this all about?”

  “You’ll recall that we helped Joel and Jay and their families get permission to have a picnic out at the cabin,” said the chief. “I received a call at 9 o’clock this morning from Joel’s dad, Arthur Franklin. He thanked us very much for arranging permission to go to the cottage. He said he thought it was very therapeutic for the boys. They seemed to be in a much better frame of mind now about what they’d witnessed there earlier in May. He went on to tell me that they’d found a wine bottle in the small thicket of trees just outside the cabin. He thinks someone tried to hide it there. Mr. Franklin said no one touched it but that they’d tied a bright handkerchief to a tree nearby. They were all hoping that it would be good evidence for our murder investigation. I thanked him and sent Cst. Smith out right away to pick it up. He just brought it in about half an hour ago.” He pointed to a paper bag on the desk. “He told me he’d been careful to keep the bottle upright since there appeared to be a little liquid residue remaining in the bottom. So your arrival here was serendipitous.”

  “Take it easy with the big words, Chief,” quipped Det. O’Neill. “My translation would be that you want me to take the wine bottle back to London.”

  “Make sure you hand it over to the fingerprint guy,” said the chief. “Tell him to handle it carefully so he doesn’t spill anything. Once he’s retrieved any fingerprints, please ask him to seal the bottle carefully. Then he’s to return it to you. Then you will bring the evidence back here. The sooner the better. Once we have it here, I’ll need to talk to Dr. Whittles.”

  Det. O’Neill peeked into the bag. “That’s a pretty impressive label,” he said. “That’s an expensive wine.”

  ON THURSDAY MORNING, Det. O’Neill walked into Chief Petrovic’s office. The chief looked surprised to see him.

  “I thought you were off until Monday?”

  “I received a call first thing this morning that they were finished with the wine bottle,” said Det. O’Neill. “I thought I should bring it in, since you said you wanted it back as soon as possible. Also, my wife saw a couple of stores in Chaseford she wanted to visit but never got a chance to when she was window-shopping in your fair town on Monday. Besides, it’s a nice day for a drive.”

  “Ah, so you’re combining business with pleasure,” said the chief.

  “That’s exactly what my wife said,” said Det. O’Neill.

  They gave each other a knowing look and laughed.

  “What did you find out about the prints?” asked Chief Petrovic.

  “There were several good prints on the bottle,” said the detective. “They came from two different people. The one set of prints belongs to Louise Carter, which makes sense. Unfortunately, the other prints do not match anyone we have on file. They are definitely different than the prints we obtained from the whisky bottle, though. Now it appears there’s another person involved.”

  “We seem to have a lot of trails leading in different directions,” said the chief. “It’s not a comforting thought. Every time we think we’ve found something conclusive, that’s going to enable us to charge a suspect, either the evidence doesn’t fit, or something else turns up to point us in another direction. I’m finding this to be a challenging case, detective.”

  “You know I’ve been involved in a lot of murder cases,” said Det. O’Neill. “This is an interesting case, and one of the most challenging ones I’ve worked on. There have been a lot of twists and turns. But there is one positive thing to keep in mind about this case, and that’s that we have yet to hit a total dead end. We still have evidence that needs to be checked out. We still have suspects. At some point, I’m convinced we’ll find the key.”

  “Thanks for the pep talk,” said Chief Petrovic. “I needed it today. Also, thanks very much for getting the bottle back to me so quickly. I didn’t expect it back until next week. Now I need to talk to Dr. Whittles. If possible, I want him to make arrangements with Dr. Whitehead, the forensic specialist in Toronto, to check the two tin mugs, the whisky bottle, and this wine bottle for traces of what they may have contained. Dr. Whitehead may learn something significant.”

  THURSDAY NIGHT, AN exhausted Jay showed up at my house. He’d called earlier, saying he wanted to get together for a chat.

  Jay plunked himself down on the front porch and I handed him a ginger beer.

  “I’m proposing a toast to the end of summer,” said Jay.

  “Hold on, Jay,” I said. “I’m not toasting the end of summer. We haven’t had it yet.”

  He looked up at me wearily. “When summer ends, my construction job ends,” he said. “I love my dad, but he’s a taskmaster.”

  I looked him over. “You’re looking great, Jay. You’re developing muscles on your muscles.”

  “I thank God every day for Sunday,” he said, unconsoled. “I’m here on a recruiting mission. My dad has agreed to build a driving shed for Uncle Herbert, and he wants to get it done quickly. He has lots of other work lined up, so he needs to hire some help. We’d like you to work for us on the construction of the shed. He told me he’ll need you for three weeks and he’ll pay you fairly. My dad’s already helped you make your decision by talking to your dad. Your dad thinks it’s a great idea.”

  I was dumbfounded. With a stunned look on my face, I said: “Do you mean that it’s all been worked out and that you’re just here to tell me?”

  “Joel, you are so clever. You figured that out quickly,” said Jay. “Don’t worry about the store,” he added. “Ralph has been recruited for that. Oh, by the way, you start Monday at 8 o’clock. My dad will give you a ride out to the farm.”

  DR. FRANK WHITTLES was smiling. It wasn’t because they’d determined what poison had killed Louise Carter. It was because he finally had some additional items he could pass on to Dr. Whitehead for forensic analysis. The Chaseford chief of police had personally brought in the two tin cups, whisky bottle, and wine bottle just after lunch on Thursday and asked Frank if he would contact Dr. Whitehead.

  Dr. Whittles had been very impressed by Dr. Whitehead’s enthusiasm and up-to-date knowledge of equipment and procedures used in the examination of a body or of a crime scene and he’d placed the call to Toronto at once.

  “I’m very pleased to hear from you, Frank,” said Dr. Whitehead. “I’m just sorry that we haven’t been able to help you yet. By the time we had permission for the autopsy, it was almost impossible to find any traces in the body or blood of the poison that may have been used to murder Louise Carter.”

  “I was very pleased that you took the time to come to Chaseford to help us,” replied Dr. Whittles. “Both the mayor and the police chief have told me how much they appreciated your willingness to come to our assistance. I may have some additional things for you to examine that pertain to this case. Any help that you could give us would be much appreciated. I’m phoning to ask your permission to send to you two cups, a whisky bottle, and a wine bottle that were found near the murder site. There is still some fluid in the wine bottle that you can analyze. I don’t know whether there would be any remnants of the liquids that the cups or whisky bottle had contained. If you are agreeable, we would have it driven down to your office in Toronto tomorrow.”

  “Thanks for giving me a call, Frank,” said Dr. Whitehead. “My colleagues and I have been wondering what’s been going on with that case. If you get the containers to me tomorrow, I’ll hopefully have some results for you by next Wednesday at the latest.”

  Friday, July 6 to Sunday, July 8

  MIDMORNING FRIDAY, after the first customers had left, my dad and I were alone in the store. When this happens, we usually do a quick check of our inventory. It was the perfect opportunity for me to talk to my dad, but I didn’t know what to say. My dad’s a good man, and I’m proud of him, and he’s nev
er volunteered me for anything without talking to me first. So it was important for me to know what had happened.

  “Dad, why did you volunteer me to go work for Mr. Jarvis?” I asked finally. “I already have a job here in the store. I’m used to working in a store. I’m not used to working in construction. It would’ve been nice if you could have talked to me first.”

  My dad sighed. “I feel bad about the way that it happened, Joel,” he said. “Jay’s dad, Brad, came into the store to buy some things on his way home last night. He was tired and he looked upset. We talked for a bit and then I said ‘You seem to have something on your mind. What’s the problem?’ Then he told me how much work he had lined up for the summer. I told him it sounded like his business was going to be very successful this year. Then told me that he had almost more to do than he could manage, but at the same time, he wanted to keep a promise.”

  My dad explained how he had asked Jay’s dad about the promise, and how Brad had explained that his brother-in-law, Herbert, wanted him to build a driving shed at the farm. He had promised Herbert a year ago that this summer he would build the shed. And a promise was a promise. Brad had told my dad he had a small space on his schedule starting next Monday, and he had said he could start then, but the big problem was that he didn’t have enough help and he had no idea where he was going to get it at this time of year. He’d said he only had about three weeks of work for anyone he hired and he’d explained to my dad that younger guys are not going to leave their current employment to take a job for three weeks. He couldn’t give them full-time work. So for the last couple of weeks, Brad had been scouting around to see who might be available. He’d said, unfortunately, the people that were available were either not reliable or not capable of demanding physical work. So Brad was in a quandary. He didn’t know what he was going to do. But he was determined not to let Herbert down.

  “He was desperate, Joel,” said my dad. “That’s when I made my mistake. I looked at Brad, and even though I knew I shouldn’t say anything without asking you, I said ‘I think Joel will probably help you.’ I told him I could get Ralph to help me in the store. I know I shouldn’t speak for you, but I told him that, unless you objected mightily, I was sure you would help him out.”

  “Thanks for telling me what happened,” I said. “It’s important for me to know the surrounding circumstances. I still would’ve appreciated hearing from you before Jay arrived last night. I felt uncomfortable when he told me I was going to be working for his dad. I didn’t know what to say. I didn’t know what else I didn’t know. However, I don’t mind that much. If I can help them out, I will. It’s not work I’m used to, but it will probably be good for me. So I guess, from what Jay told me, I’ll be picked up by them sometime before 8 o’clock Monday morning.”

  “I’m very sorry things happened the way they did,” said my dad. “I am at fault.”

  THAT NIGHT AFTER SUPPER, it suddenly occurred to me: when I’m at the farm, I’m right next to the bush. I may have an opportunity to attempt communication with Louise Carter again. So I thought about how I could arrange a time to go to the cabin by myself.

  I needed to get to my thinking space if I was going to figure this out, so I headed to the attic. It was quite warm up there, but it was quiet.

  It’s going to be very difficult to do this while I’m working for Jay’s dad on that driving shed, I thought. I can’t just suddenly tell Jay and his dad that I’m taking a long lunch break – ‘I’m heading to the cabin, I’ll be back in a little while’.

  That would produce so many questions, first from them, and then later from my parents, that I didn’t even want to think about it. But how do you get your mind to come up with ideas? I didn’t know the answer and I didn’t think anybody else did, either. But as I sat there, I figured something out anyway.

  The next day, Saturday, when I got to the store, I said to my dad: “I could end up using my bike more this summer than I thought I would.”

  My dad looked at me curiously. “What do you mean?”

  “Jay’s dad is giving me a ride tomorrow,” I said, “and that’s great. But I’m certain there will be occasions when it is inconvenient for him to give me a ride. There may be times when he has to leave the site early to order supplies or to do other errands. So I think I’d better be prepared to travel back and forth to the site on my bicycle. I haven’t used my bike much for the last couple of months, so I was thinking tomorrow afternoon I would travel out to Herbert and Emeline’s farm. I figure I’ll learn a few things from taking a trip. I’ll get a look at the location for the driving shed, and – more importantly – I’ll find out how long it takes me to bike out there. And where all the mean dogs live! Once I know how much time it takes me to get to the farm, I’ll know what time to get up in the morning.”

  “Sounds like a good idea,” said my dad. “I think it’s about 15 miles, Joel. You should be able to do that trip in less than half an hour. But I guess you’ll find out.”

  WE’D BEEN LUCKY THIS year; the weather had been very good. We’d had enough rain for crops, and lots of good hours of sunlight. Unfortunately for me, on Sunday it rained. It was a steady rain. The land, the farmers, and the gardeners loved it. I didn’t. But I was determined to go on my bike ride.

  Of course, my mother felt differently. But I guess my dad thought he owed me, because when my mother objected, he interceded.

  “Mae, he’s 17 years old and it’s not a storm. There’s no sign of lightning.”

  My mother relented, but before I set off on my bike, she made certain I had as much rain gear as possible. I was lucky I didn’t have to take an umbrella. My dad just stood back and smiled.

  “Mom, you can’t tell what the weather will be,” I said. “Someday, when I have to ride the bike to work, it may be raining.”

  “They’ll probably call work off,” she said.

  “It depends on what we’re doing,” I said. “We could still work inside on the driving shed.”

  Reluctantly, my mother let me go. But she insisted on packing me a small emergency lunch, with a thermos of homemade juice, for my knapsack.

  The ride that afternoon wasn’t a lot of fun but it only took me about half an hour. And there was one positive aspect to rainy weather: most of the mean dogs preferred to stay where it was dry. I planned on going directly to the cabin; after that, I would drop in and see Herbert and Emeline Derrigan. I knew that, at some point, my mother would check with them on my visit, so I knew I couldn’t spend an inordinate amount of time at the cabin. But having a packed lunch would help me account for some of the time.

  When I got to the Keep Out sign that Cst. Smith had posted a few weeks ago, the trail was still highly visible. We had done quite a good job flattening it down the day we had had our July 1st picnic. After one quick look, I realized I could negotiate it with my bike. There were a couple of places where I had to dismount and carry the bike for a few feet, but other than that it was easy riding. The rain had slowed significantly by the time I reached the cabin. I didn’t need my rain hat and raincoat anymore. I looked at my watch and noted that it had taken me 30 minutes to get there.

  The cabin and the surrounding area looked the same as they had when we’d left last Sunday. It seemed that no one had been there since then. The rain had stopped, so I leaned my bike against the cabin wall and hung my rain gear on it. Then I entered the cabin and sat down on one of the chairs.

  This was the test. When Walter and I communicated at home it was simple. I would just make certain I was alone. Then I would focus on him and send a message and he would respond. We communicated back and forth easily. I figured the same principles would probably be at work here.

  As I sat at the table, I tried to focus on Louise. That was where my difficulties started. Until I sat there and thought about what I was going to do, I didn’t realize how little I knew about her. I didn’t consider my last efforts with Jay present the previous Sunday any real kind of test. I’d been too distracted. I really coul
dn’t compare this to my first communications with Walter, either. Those conditions were created by a storm and a freak lightning strike. The odds of that happening again, anywhere, anytime, were close to zero.

  I needed something to focus on. I didn’t really have a good picture of her in my mind. All I had seen was the back of a dead body. I had never even seen a photograph of her. So I couldn’t concentrate on what she looked like. I was at a loss, but I knew I had to think of something. It would have to be something that was common to both of us. Then I remembered there was one thing we had both seen: the wine bottle. There had been a fancy label on that wine bottle, I remembered. What was it? The name appeared to have been German. At least, I thought it was German. I remembered my dad telling me that he and the chief of police had chatted briefly about the label, and that it was the label of a very expensive wine. I think my dad had said “Krug collection 1928”.

  I decided that that was the message I would try to send to Louise. So I closed my eyes and concentrated on the words ‘Krug collection’. I focused on the words as best as I could until I sensed something. Then I thought in my mind, the name ‘Louise’. I even said her name out loud. In my mind, I repeated her name and the words ‘Krug collection’ over and over.

  I was definitely sensing something, but it wasn’t clear. I wasn’t sure what else I could do. I tried to think of anything else I knew about Louise. I remembered that her family was famous in the area because her dad had been a Member of Parliament. His name was Hugh Carter. So I thought about ‘Hugh Carter’, ‘Parliament’, and ‘Krug collection’. Suddenly, I felt my name. I could sense the word ‘Joel’ in my head.

  I was so happy I almost began to cry. I said Louise’s name out loud. There was no response, so I thought ‘Louise’, focusing as hard as I could. Finally, I sensed: “I hear you now”.