Tumbled Graves

by Brenda Chapman

  Ivo Delaney had checked himself out but had agreed to wait to speak with Rouleau before going home. He sat alone in the waiting room under the glow of the television set anchored near the ceiling. His wide shoulders slumped forward and his chin appeared to be resting on his chest. He was as defeated a man as Rouleau had ever seen.

  “I’m glad you’re feeling well enough to go home,” Rouleau said as he sat down next to him. Woodhouse took a seat across the aisle, a little to one side so that he was out of Delaney’s line of vision. Rouleau nodded at Woodhouse to take out his notepad before turning his body to face Delaney. “I know this is a terrible ordeal that you’re going through.”

  Ivo slowly raised his head. “I just don’t know what to do anymore.” His large hands were clasped together between his knees. “My life may as well be over.” His head bobbed once. “But I know I have to keep going … for Adele and Violet.”

  “Can you tell me what the doctor has been treating you for?” Rouleau knew that Ivo would have to give this information freely. He wouldn’t be able to get it easily otherwise.

  Ivo didn’t speak for a while. When he did, his voice was resigned. “I suffer from depression. Since my teens. It’s chemical. If I stay on the medicine, I do all right.”

  “And have you been taking your medication?”

  “Faithfully. I was fine until this.” He took a gulping breath. “Losing your entire family could depress anyone.”

  “I understand. Were you depressed about anything before Adele and Violet went missing?”

  “No.”

  “How were you and Adele getting along the day she went missing?”

  Ivo flinched as if struck. This time, the pause was longer. Rouleau exchanged looks with Woodhouse. Ivo sighed deeply and said, “We were getting along as we always did. She seemed distracted the last week or so, but she told me that it was nothing serious. Just spring fever. She was planning to visit her sister for a few days in Gananoque. Violet was excited to go.”

  “Distracted how?”

  “I don’t know. I’d find her staring out the window. She seemed to have lost her appetite and was roaming the house during the night. I think she just needed a change of scene. I encouraged her to get out of the house for a while. She could be a recluse if left alone.”

  A nurse in pink scrubs entered the waiting room and walked over to them. “The doctor said just a few minutes so Mr. Delaney isn’t tired out.” Her voice softened. “We’ve got a volunteer here to take you home, Mr. Delaney.”

  Rouleau answered for him. “We won’t be much longer.”

  “I’ll be back in two minutes to get him.” She glanced again at Ivo as if assessing his condition before she left them. The squeaking of her rubber-soled shoes disappeared down the hallway.

  Rouleau tried a new tack. Time was getting short if he was going to get to the bottom of the Delaney family relationships. “When you met Adele, did she already have Violet?”

  “Violet is my daughter. Maybe not biological, but she’s my child in every other way.”

  “I don’t question that. Your wife’s autopsy has shown that Violet was not your wife’s biological child either. Did you know that?”

  Delaney dropped his chin to his chest again and closed his eyes. His large body swayed back and forth in the seat. Rouleau placed a hand on Delaney’s arm “Should I call for the nurse?” He looked over at Woodhouse and signalled for him to get her. Woodhouse began to rise.

  Delaney’s body shuddered and then was still. He was still sitting upright. He lifted his head and opened his eyes, turning until he faced Rouleau. He looked a bit like a bird, his neck elongated, his eyes pinkish around the edges and bulging out of their sockets. “I don’t need the nurse. I just need my own bed.”

  Rouleau was vaguely aware of Woodhouse hovering at the end of the row of chairs and then sitting down again. He kept his eyes locked on Delaney’s. Some struggle was going on within their blue depths that needed time to resolve. Rouleau was aware of rubber shoes squeaking in the hallway and getting louder. He’d almost given up hope of getting anything more from Delaney that evening when Delaney began to speak in a voice so low that Rouleau had to strain forward to hear.

  “She kept the secret all of our married life. I think she would have kept it forever if but for the school registration. They need a birth certificate, you see. Violet doesn’t have one. Adele needed my help to figure out how to come up with the paperwork to get Violet into kindergarten. That was why my wife was distracted this week.”

  “Did she tell you who Violet’s biological parents were?”

  “No. She refused to say anything about her birth. I didn’t like to push.” His eyes squeezed shut. “Maybe I should have been more supportive. I was just so angry. She lied to me for three years and I was scared we’d lose Violet if the truth came out. I should never have gotten mad at her because now I’ve lost them both.”

  The nurse stepped around Rouleau and spoke to Ivo quietly, helping him to his feet. She said, “We’ll just be getting Mr. Delaney home and settled. You can save any more questions for tomorrow.”

  Ivo staggered back a step and Rouleau steadied him. The nurse smiled grimly at Rouleau and wrapped an arm as far as she could around Ivo’s waist. They started down the hallway, Delaney towering over the nurse. She let go of his waist but kept a firm grip on his arm. The volunteer who held onto Delaney’s other arm was an older man with a pleasant face. Rouleau watched them get on the elevator without comment.

  Woodhouse pushed himself to his feet. He scratched his protruding belly. “That sounded like a confession to me. He got angry and killed his wife and kid when he found out she’d been lying to him.”

  Rouleau gave the idea serious consideration. Woodhouse was quick to make a judgment, but in this case he had good reason. “Might have gone down that way. Trouble is we’re going to need some evidence. A good defence lawyer would have that vague confession in shreds within seconds.”

  Woodhouse scowled. “I know what you mean. The courts have justice all arse backwards. The guy’s smart enough to play the nutbar card. He’s setting us up in case we get some evidence to nail him.”

  They followed in Delaney’s footsteps toward the elevator. “No message from Stonechild while we were interviewing Delaney?” Woodhouse asked.

  Rouleau glanced at him. Woodhouse’s face was expressionless, suspiciously so. He reached inside his jacket pocket and pulled out his phone. He scrolled the messages. “Not yet.”

  Woodhouse appeared to be searching for words. “She’s a bit of a wild card, isn’t she?” he said finally.

  “How do you mean?”

  Woodhouse shrugged. “I don’t know. Just that she doesn’t strike me as all that dependable.” He hit the down button and the elevator door slid open. “What do you know? First time I haven’t had to wait half an hour.”

  They rode to the lobby in silence. Rouleau filed away Woodhouse’s comments about Stonechild but let them rest for now. He knew that officers like Woodhouse had difficulty accepting women officers as their equal. Kala Stonechild’s singular modus operandi and taciturn personality would make her a bigger target for the old boys’ club. He doubted she would care, but others might. Heath for one. He wanted a team that showed well in public.

  They left the hospital through the main doors and walked toward the parking lot. The sun was going down, casting long fingers across the pavement and reflecting off car windshields. Rouleau caught a movement in a red car at the end of the first row. He squinted and took a step forward to see past the sun’s glare. Marci Stokes lifted a hand.

  “I’ll leave you here,” he said to Woodhouse. “See you in the morning.”

  “Sure thing.” Woodhouse looking over at Marci’s car. He mock saluted her before walking past.

  Marci lowered her window at Rouleau’s approach. “Got time fo
r a drink?” she asked. Her copper hair was tied back with an elastic but still managed to spill around her face. Her eyes shone in a stream of sunlight. “I might have something of interest to share.”

  “How about the Merchant?”

  “I’ll meet you there in ten.” She smiled up at him and turned on her car. He stepped back as she pulled away.

  She’d picked a table that looked out over the sidewalk in the smaller room to the right of the entrance. A waitress was delivering a beer as Rouleau arrived. He waited for her to depart and sat down across from Marci. She lifted her glass of vodka and soda into the air at eye level and said cheers before taking a long drink.

  “So what have you got?” Rouleau picked up the beer and tilted the glass in her direction as a way of saying thanks.

  “You do understand that this is a fair exchange deal.”

  “I’m coming to that conclusion. I haven’t anything earth-shattering to share with you, but when I do you will be my go-to journalist.”

  She appeared satisfied. “I’ve done a bit of digging. Ivo Delaney used to have a sister named Olive. She was a year younger than him.”

  “Was?”

  “The Delaneys owned a cottage north of Kingston on one of the many lakes. The family used to spend their summers there. The father was a bit of an oddball scientist and taught at the university. The mom stayed home and raised Ivo and Olive. Actually, Ivo’s name used to be Egor, and the last name was spelled Dellaney, with two Ls. Anyhow, when Ivo was fourteen and Olive thirteen, they went out boating on the lake one evening after supper. Ivo came back alone after dark. Olive’s body was found washed up on shore two days later.”

  Rouleau took a second to take in her blunt revelation. “I have to tell you that none of this came to light when we did our background search.”

  “I’m not surprised. This was twenty years ago and the story didn’t make much of a ripple beyond the people at the lake, if you excuse my pun. I happened to find a source who was one of their neighbours.” She held up a hand as if stopping traffic. “Don’t ask me how. He said that after the drowning, the family moved to Toronto. Ivo must have moved back as an adult, and that must have been when he changed his name.”

  “Was Ivo ever investigated for killing his sister?”

  “Nope. It was ruled an accident. His story was that they moored the boat and she went for a swim. He fell asleep and when he woke up, she hadn’t returned. He searched around for her until it got dark and then returned to the cottage.”

  “He’s been treated for depression since he was a teenager.”

  “I would say there’s a direct link to his sister’s death.”

  Rouleau drank from his glass and thought over Marci’s story. “Where are the parents now?”

  “His father died of cancer last year. His mother sold up and moved out west somewhere. Nobody seems to know how to get hold of her.”

  “I can get somebody on that. Do you have her first name?”

  “Helen. Her last name still has two Ls.”

  Rouleau raised a hand to signal the waitress. “Let me return the favour before we head out.” Marci had drained her drink and he gulped down the last of his beer.

  “I wouldn’t say no.”

  Replenished, Marci leaned back and studied him. “Are your eyes really that peculiar jade green colour or are you wearing contacts?”

  “Real.”

  “Damn. What I wouldn’t give. I used to think if I had something like piercing green eyes, I’d be happier. My boyfriend would have left his wife for my green eyes. You ever been married, Rouleau?”

  “Once. My green eyes didn’t keep her from leaving me.”

  “Sorry.”

  “Me too. So are you planning to return to New York and take that job your old boyfriend is offering?”

  “Thinking about it. Also thinking that returning to my old situation might be the stupidest thing I could do to myself. I’m starting to like Canada. The people are friendly and the killers are a different breed than I’m used to.”

  “How so?”

  “Less obvious.” She lifted her glass and drained half of it in one go. “Well, time to go file my story about the rise in vandalism on university campus. I’ll bide my time a while longer on the Delaney story until you get me a few more facts.”

  “I’ll be in touch when I have something. Thanks for keeping this information quiet for now.”

  “My pleasure.”

  He stayed to finish his drink after she left. The bar was getting busier and he had no wish to be alone. His father had left two messages over the course of the afternoon. Time was running out if he was going to see Frances while she could still recognize him. His dad said nobody knew what was keeping her hanging on.

  Rouleau finished his beer. He’d pick up some takeout food on his way back to the condo, although he didn’t feel like eating. He paid the tab and exited the bar. Night had fallen while they were inside and a breeze had come up off the lake. He pulled up the collar of his jacket and started walking slowly back to his car, parked two streets over. He’d have to call his father back and make excuses for another day’s grace. The Delaney case needed his full attention at least until then.

  And he needed one more day before telling Frances goodbye.

  Kala opened the back door and tiptoed into the kitchen. The clock on the stove read ten-thirty so Dawn would be long asleep. She heard the click of a dog’s toenails on the hardwood floor in the living room and Taiku was soon at her side. She rubbed his ears and spoke quietly to him before lifting her eyes and looking into the living room. A light was on and Gundersund was stretched out the length of the couch, Minny lying on his legs.

  Kala smiled as the guilt at having left Dawn alone so long lifted a bit. She’d checked her phone messages after dropping Bennett off at the station and a new worry kept her from being completely at ease. Dawn’s teacher and social worker had called a meeting for the following day at four o’clock at the school. They might just want to check in to see how things were going, but likely the intent behind the meeting was something more serious. The doubt would be enough to keep her on edge until she knew for sure.

  She walked into the living room and over to the couch. Gundersund would have made a fine Viking warrior back in the day, with his too-long blond hair and high cheekbones. The scar on his left cheek added to the illusion. She stood over him for a moment, debating whether to get a blanket to cover him or to wake him up. She took a step back to get a blanket from the chair when his eyes snapped open. He had himself in a sitting position with an arm raised before she had time to say anything. Minny went flying off the end of the couch but landed unhurt.

  Kala jumped back. Taiku whined and turned heel into the kitchen with Minny right behind him.

  “Glad I wasn’t a burglar.” Kala plopped herself down beside him and began to laugh. “Your face … I wish you could have seen it.” She clutched her stomach and doubled over with laughter.

  “Very funny,” Gundersund grumbled, but he was smiling. “I had it covered. I was ready to defend the fort if necessary.” He lowered his arm and checked his watch. “You’re later than I expected.”

  She straightened up and wiped tears from her eyes with the back of one hand. She didn’t know if they were from laughing or being over tired. “Traffic was bad getting out of Montreal. An accident tied up a couple of lanes. Dawn asleep?”

  “Yeah. I fed her some of that lasagna you had in the freezer and helped her with her math homework. She headed up around nine.”

  “Thanks for looking out for her. I sent her a text when I was stuck in traffic but she didn’t say you were here.”

  “It was my pleasure. I like hanging out with her.”

  “Do you think she’s settling in okay here, with me?”

  “It’s going to take time. I guess y
ou know that, but I think she’s happy enough. Any particular reason you’re asking?”

  Kala chewed on her bottom lip. “I’m meeting with her social worker and teacher tomorrow. I only got notice of it late this afternoon. Dawn didn’t say anything happened at school today?”

  “Nothing. I’d tell you if she had.”

  “I guess I’ll just have to wait until tomorrow then.”

  Gundersund stretched and yawned. He got slowly to his feet and looked down at her. “I’ll be heading out. Have you checked in with Rouleau?”

  “Not yet. Any news here?”

  “He and Woodhouse interviewed Ivo Delaney, who is now back home. We have a nine o’clock team meeting tomorrow morning.”

  “I didn’t get much information in Montreal but a few things to share. They can wait until tomorrow.”

  “Good enough. There’s some lasagna left in the fridge if you’re hungry.”

  After Gundersund’s footsteps had receded from the back deck and she knew that she was alone, Kala stretched out on the couch in the exact place where he’d lain. She rested for a moment and breathed in his scent, a mix of soap and the outdoors. He was a comforting man. A good man. She closed her eyes. She knew better than to depend on Gundersund’s friendship forever, but she would allow herself to feel happy that he was here for her and Dawn now. For the first time, she realized that she didn’t mind having a partner. She could even admit that she looked forward to seeing him. She just had to make sure that she didn’t come to rely on him. She knew that if she did, she could expect the inevitable let down. Trusting someone to be there when push came to shove was a fool’s game.

  She sat up and swung her feet onto the floor. If the social worker wanted to take Dawn away, would that be such a bad thing? Already Kala was getting used to having her around, even looking forward to seeing her at the end of the day. If Dawn left now, she’d get over her leaving without much trouble. That might be for the best for both of them. She could go back to fending only for herself and Dawn would be in a home with somebody better suited to looking after her.