by Ken Ogilvie
* * *
Superintendent Jonathan Cartwright heard early on Sunday morning that Jackie had been caught, and not by Sykes. He hadn’t been able to get to Prospect until late Saturday evening. He figured Rebecca would be staying at her father’s house, and had no idea that she was at the same hotel as him. Neither was he aware that Sykes was in town.
On Sunday morning he skipped breakfast and headed straight to the medical centre. He spoke to the officers guarding Bradley and then went to his house, hoping to find Rebecca, but no one answered the door, and the house looked deserted.
On returning to the hotel, Cartwright checked on Rebecca and was told she was staying there. He called her room, but all he got was another voice mail. He went to the restaurant to look for her, and have a late breakfast. She wasn’t there either, so he occupied a secluded booth, ordered coffee and toast, and made some phone calls. He was digging into Sykes’s relationship with Sarah Bradley. His principal aim in going to Prospect was not to protect George Bradley or to lead the investigation into his shooter, but rather to uncover something that might damage the reputation of the celebrated detective Sykes. He was also hoping to spend some time with Rebecca, maybe even reignite their affair. If he showed her that he cared about her father and was doing everything in his power to apprehend the shooter, her view of him might change.
An hour later, he left the hotel and started tracking down prominent local figures such as the mayor, the lawyers, the merchants and the parish priest. Most of them claimed not to know who Sykes was. He also asked about strangers who’d come to the town over the past week, and learned that Rebecca and Archie had already talked to many of the townsfolk. Archie was on his list of interviewees about Sykes’s affair with Sarah Bradley, so Cartwright went back to the Big Rock Hotel and discovered that he too was staying there. By noon, having made no progress with any of his inquiries, Cartwright rounded up the OPP officers in the town and met with them in a room at the hotel. They briefed him on what they’d found out during their investigations into Bradley’s shooting, which turned out to be very little.
Cartwright went to his room and called Rebecca’s number again, getting yet another voice mail. He wondered if she was avoiding him.
Chapter Sixty-Two
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Rebecca was shocked. She shouldered Freddie aside and stared at Ralph through the gap in the equipment. How could she have been taken in so easily? She now saw that he was scanning the area extremely carefully. It crossed her mind that it was Ralph who had shot her father. Why else would he be in Prospect? After all, her father had duped Kingsley McBride, who’d been laundering syndicate money. They must have sent Ralph to Prospect in retribution.
“What’re we going to do, Rebecca?” Freddie’s eyes were wide. “If that guy sees me, he’ll kill me.”
Rebecca grabbed his arm. “Don’t worry. Just stay hidden until I drive away with him. From the way he’s gazing about, I don’t think he knows you’re here. When I get to the town, I’ll take him to the police. They’ll question him, and maybe even arrest him.”
“You can’t spend more time with that guy, Rebecca. You don’t know what he’ll do.”
“I’m certain he won’t suspect that I’ve found out about him, Freddie. I’ll be fine.” Rebecca wasn’t really sure about that, but she could see that Freddie was terrified. She needed to calm him.
“I’ll call the police as soon as you leave.” Freddie’s lips were quivering. “But you should stay at the mine and call the cops from here. Please, Rebecca, don’t go with him.” He seized her arm.
Rebecca disengaged from his grip. “No, Freddie. He might have shot my dad. I don’t want to lose the opportunity to find out more about him. I’m not on duty, and if I hand him over to the police right now, I’ll miss that chance.”
Freddie’s knees nearly buckled, but Rebecca caught him before he dropped to the ground. She said, “The instant I leave the site, call the OPP in Orillia and tell them what you know. They’ll contact the police in Prospect, and he’ll be nabbed as soon as I get there. That will give me about twenty minutes to pry some information from him. He calls himself Ralph, by the way, although I suspect it’s a fake name.”
Freddie straightened. “Alright, Rebecca, but be really careful.” He drew in a deep breath. “I’ll get my car and follow you at a distance until I’m sure you’re safe.”
Rebecca smiled at him. For a man who, in her experience anyway, lacked courage, he was rising to the occasion now. Her opinion of him went up several notches.
“Thank you, Freddie. I’ll feel better knowing you’re there.” She squeezed his arm. “I’m leaving now.” Stepping out from behind the mining equipment, she walked confidently towards Ralph.
* * *
Cartwright couldn’t stand any more of doing nothing. He was about to call Orillia again when his cell phone rang. It was 2:00 p.m.
It was the Orillia duty officer. “I’m still in Prospect,” Cartwright said. “Is Hadi Jafari there?”
“Yes, sir. He came in to interrogate Jackie Caldwell again. He questioned her this morning, but there were a few things he wanted to follow up on.”
“Find him and get him on the line.”
“Right away, sir.”
Cartwright waited impatiently until he heard Hadi’s voice. “Sir, Jafari here.”
“Good. Tell me what you’ve found out from Jackie.”
After a brief pause, Hadi said, “There’s some interesting new information, sir. For one thing, Mrs. Caldwell claims she shot Marco Perez at Kingsley McBride’s behest. That ties him to a murder. And at the same time, Perez shot Charlie Taylor, the former mayor of Conroy, somewhere north of the town. Mrs. Caldwell said she’ll take us to the spot where the killing took place. And get this, she’s agreed to testify against McBride.”
“Excellent! You’re doing a great job, Jafari.” The line went quiet for a moment. “Is there anything else you can tell me?”
“Yes, indeed, sir, but not from Mrs. Caldwell. You remember the two syndicate men we captured after the shootout up north of Orillia? The same day we took Lily Caldwell into custody.”
“Of course. Get on with it. What did you learn?”
“Well, sir, the syndicate men are cooperating with the crown prosecutors on a plea-bargain. The men want lighter sentences than attempted murder, as well as a guarantee of police protection. Anyway, they corroborated Jackie’s claim about Perez and the mayor. It turns out they were on the syndicate team that disposed of the bodies, and they’re willing to lead us to that place.”
Cartwright leapt to his feet and danced about the room. “Wow! And all of this happened without DI Sykes’s involvement. He’s in big trouble, you know.”
“I’ve heard,” Hadi replied. He didn’t sound pleased.
“Just carry on.” Cartwright thrust the hand with the phone into the air in a gesture of victory.
“Sir, can you hear me?” Hadi’s voice came from a distance. Cartwright pressed the phone to his ear again. “Yes, what is it?”
“Sir, the duty officer just told me that Constable Bradley’s in Prospect.”
“I know that,” Cartwright snapped back.
“Yes, sir. We’ve also learned that there’s a syndicate man in the town. He may have been the one who shot George Bradley.”
“Tell me more.” This was interesting.
“Bradley’s with him now. She took him to the gold mine to show him around, and now she’s driving him back to Prospect.”
“What? What’s she doing? He might kill her.”
“Yes, sir. We’ll inform the officers in Prospect, and they’ll start searching for her.”
“I’ll take charge of that.” Cartwright cut the call and dashed out of the room.
Chapter Sixty-Three
Sunday, October 7, 2007
Rebecca went to the admin office to find Ralph. “Time for me to run you back to town.”
Ralph gave her a rueful look. “I guess. Don’t
want to get fired in my first week on the job. But there must be lots more for me to see, so the tour isn’t over, yes?”
“Definitely not,” Rebecca said. “Consider yourself a captive audience.” Little did he know.
Ralph jumped into the passenger side of the convertible, Rebecca got in and drove out onto the road leading to Prospect. After a while, from the corner of her eye, she caught a glimpse of Ralph staring at her. Was he suspicious? She began to worry.
Halfway to Prospect, Ralph said, “Turn at the road up there.” Rebecca looked down and saw the gun. He jabbed it into her side. “Do it.” Rebecca obeyed, her heart thumping.
“Keep going until I tell you to stop.” Ralph sounded completely different, harsh and cold.
Rebecca’s mind went into overdrive. How was she going to get out of this one?
* * *
Freddie Stafford followed Rebecca’s car until it turned off the main road. He stopped. What to do now? He had to go on, though he knew it was dangerous. Supposing he was killed? Then again, if he waited here he could direct the police to where they’d gone. If he left now, they wouldn’t know that Rebecca had turned off the road, or where. He cursed himself for not borrowing a cellphone back at the mine.
He’d just worked up the courage to go after Rebecca and take his chances, when he heard sirens approaching. With a sigh of relief, he switched on his car’s hazard lights. Three OPP squad cars arrived, led by Superintendent Cartwright. Freddie got out of his car and waved furiously.
“Stafford!” Cartwright bellowed when he saw who it was. “Where is she?”
Freddie pointed at the side road. “They went down there. Two minutes ago. Rebecca was driving.”
“Stay in your cars!” Cartwright ordered the OPP officers. “And turn your sirens off.” Tires spit gravel as he wheeled into the side road and raced off.
Freddie was left wondering what to do. He’d played his part, he told himself. Best to beat it out of here and find somewhere safe. He climbed into his car and started it up. Then his conscience went to work on him. What if the police didn’t find Rebecca, or the syndicate guy fooled them somehow and came back this way? Then what?
Freddie decided he couldn’t run away again, like he’d done after Jackie and Kingsley were caught. He had to stay the course until Rebecca was saved. But what to do now? Then he spied a car speeding towards him along the side road. Even from a distance, he recognized the Mercedes. Without further thought, he put his car in gear and drove towards it, shifting lanes so as to keep on the same side of the road. He was prepared to crash headlong into the Mercedes, no matter what speed it was going.
In the final two seconds before the collision, the Mercedes veered onto the narrow shoulder of the road. Gravel and dust billowed out behind it. Freddie swung the car towards it. His front bumper slammed into the rear end of the Mercedes, which fishtailed wildly, careened off the road, and plunged into the tall grass along the side. Meanwhile, Freddie had lost control of his car. It flew off the road, ploughing through the grass and into some small trees that bordered a forested area. The car came to a buffered stop and his head bumped into the steering wheel. He sat there, dazed, for a few seconds, then looked back to see what had happened to Rebecca.
* * *
Rebecca saw the car aiming straight at her and guessed it was Freddie. She had her seatbelt on, but Ralph had unclasped his so he could sit sideways and keep his gun trained on her.
“Don’t hit that freaking car or I’ll kill you,” he yelled. Rebecca heard the fear in his voice. She forced herself to remain calm. Obviously, Freddie was planning to ram them if she didn’t pull off of the road. She might just be able to get out of this.
“Just hold tight,” she said. “I’ll swerve just before we crash. He won’t have enough time to react. The main challenge will be keeping my car on the road.”
“You’d better do it, or else,” Ralph screamed.
Rebecca did as she’d said — almost, but not soon enough to dodge the rear end crash. She was gripping the steering wheel tightly when the cars collided. Her hands were jerked free as her Mercedes spun out of control and she pitched forward. Her head almost struck the steering wheel, but the airbag deployed in time and pushed her back, whereas Ralph, without a seat belt on, shot forward and slammed into his inflating airbag. He was driven back into the seat and slumped sideways, unconscious.
Rebecca’s door was jammed shut, but she was able to wriggle past her rapidly deflating airbag and lean over Ralph’s lap to reach for his gun, which had been jolted from his hand. By the time his eyes fluttered open, she had the muzzle pointing at him. She saw Freddie tumble out of his car and gaze blearily at her. She had seriously underestimated this man.
Freddie came over to Rebecca and after a struggle, managed to get her door open. They were just deciding what to do with Ralph, who required medical attention, when Cartwright and the rest of his police contingent came blasting down the side road. They screeched to a halt near Rebecca’s car, and the officers piled out, guns drawn. Cartwright rushed up to her, looking concerned when he saw the blood on her face, but she assured him that she was fine. Two constables extracted Ralph from the Mercedes, cuffed him and shoved him into a squad car filled with armed cops. It took off towards Prospect, siren wailing.
“Rebecca, I’m so glad we got to you in time,” Cartwright declared, as though he’d just saved her. She turned to Freddie and smiled gratefully at him.
“I hope our courageous friend here gets a civilian bravery medal. He sure deserves it.”
“Yes, yes, of course.” There was rather more than a hint of irritation in Cartwright’s voice. He coughed. “Just like the medal I got a couple of years ago.”
Rebecca gave him a blank look. “Indeed, sir. Freddie’s a genuine hero.”
Cartwright turned to his team and began to issue instructions.
Chapter Sixty-Four
I’ve finally cleared up the riddles that have plagued me since I was eight years old. And I’ve solved, or helped to solve, several other mysteries.
Lily Caldwell confessed to killing my grandfather, Steven Bradley, in revenge for what he did to Jackie, and for financially ruining her family with his gold mining scam, two and a half decades ago. More than a decade later, Jackie murdered her father-in-law, and then her husband, to gain ownership of the shares to the same bogus gold mine, but only after she came to believe that the mine was viable due to rising gold prices. She used her shares to entice Kingsley McBride into an extramarital relationship. Then Kingsley partnered with my father to develop the mine. My father used the mine to extract money from Kingsley, and also the syndicate, as it turned out, because Kingsley was laundering their illegally gained money. When Kingsley’s wife, Abigail, discovered what he was up to, Jackie murdered her to silence her, and to protect Kingsley from being charged. Then, Jackie murdered Herman Vogel, Abigail’s secret lover, to prevent him from going to the police.
Along with Hound, O’Reilly and Sykes, I helped capture Jackie and Kingsley, and everything seemed to be working out, until Jackie escaped from prison. Bent on revenge, she tried to kill both me and Hound. She also went to Hamilton to get help from Kingsley. There, she claims to have killed a syndicate bodyguard known as Enzo, and headed north again. She went to the house of Cora Simon, a childhood friend of her mother’s. Fortunately, Hound found out. He alerted me, but rushed off to get to her first. He arrived just before two SUVs loaded with syndicate gunmen pulled up outside Cora’s house. He saw Jackie put a bullet into the head of one of them. A frantic chase through the forest ensued, during which Jackie killed another syndicate man and Hound took out two of them with his bare hands. Matthew Simon probably killed two more with his bow and arrows, although he hasn’t admitted to it.
The carnage that Jackie left in her wake was amazing. Eight bodies — that we know of. And then, amazingly, she gave herself up. Hound and Matthew tracked her to an isolated spot near the northern boreal forest. So she’s in custody again, this time w
ith around-the-clock police guards.
All in all, it’s been a wild ride — for me, and for the people I’ve befriended and come to love over the past four months. I now feel comfortable using the word ‘love’ about people close to me, especially my father. I don’t care if what he’s done has been unethical, even illegal. He’s my Dad, and I’ll stick by him.
Most significant of all, I know who killed my grandfather, and my mother. Archie MacDougall killed Steven Bradley, I’m certain of that. And Maggie Delaney must have killed Sarah, although she has no memory of it. Archie’s claim that the Jesuits killed Sarah was a diversion, in my view. He didn’t want people thinking that Maggie had done it. But I’m no longer seeking revenge for Sarah’s death. I can live with what I know, and what I suspect.
Dear mother in heaven, please forgive me for breaking my vow. My mission has ended, but my love for you endures.
— From the diary of Rebecca Sarah Bradley (Thursday, October 11, 2007)
Sunday, October 14, 2007
A week after Ralph — real name Lorenzo Moretti — was arrested, Rebecca was back in Conroy, staying at Maggie’s house and planning to remain there until she passed away. Her condition was deteriorating rapidly, and the doctors said she wasn’t likely to see the end of October. Rebecca felt sad, but also good to be staying with Maggie and taking care of her. Acting DI Hadi Jafari had already approved her extended leave.
Most days, Rebecca sat outside with Maggie, both of them wrapped in warm blankets against the slight chill of autumn. On rainy days, they remained inside, sitting in front of the fire, drinking tea and chatting. Maggie slept much of the time.
Hound came frequently to do chores and run errands. He talked for hours with Maggie and Rebecca. Rebecca felt closer to him than ever. She also had daily talks on the phone with her father, who’d lived up to his reputation as a vigorous man and was recovering well. His local doctor and a care nurse faced a herculean task in making him rest while he healed.
