“Great. We will.” Kala stood. Gundersund and Prevost followed her out of the restaurant and they headed together to the elevators. People looked at them as they walked by, and Kala could imagine why. Gundersund and Prevost were big men and she walked between them as if they were her body guards.
The parole officer, Odette Landreville, met them outside the elevator. She shook hands with each of them before leading them through the security door and into a meeting room. Cécile Simon was standing next to one of the chairs, arms folded across her stomach. She looked at each of them as they walked in, her gaze lazily hovering over each of the men, but coming to rest on Kala. Her eyes were a light shade of blue, much like a washed out sky, and hard as marbles in a narrow, fox-like face. Kala had pictured a more imposing figure than the slender woman in front of her. Yet, she’d known helpless looking women who’d terrorized their children and spouses. Cécile’s eyes were calculating, without kindness, and no doubt windows to her soul. Kala’s sixth sense kicked in and a shiver started between her shoulder blades and rippled down her back.
“Let us all sit down.” Odette extended a hand toward the table.
They arranged themselves so that Kala was directly across from Cécile with Gundersund and Prevost on either side of her. Odette took the seat closest to Cécile and sat back looking over the three officers, assessing them with experienced eyes. Her middle-aged face and grey hair told Kala that she’d been around this business a long time and was likely not far off retirement.
Kala spoke directly to Cécile. “Thank you for meeting us. As Mme. Landreville has told you, we’re here about your daughter, and let me say that we are very sorry about the circumstances.” She was going to say death but held back since they hadn’t located the body.
Cécile looked at her, hands folded in her lap. She played with a silver ring on her middle finger as she spoke. “I only had her a few months before they put her in that home. When she was abducted, there was nothing I could do from inside.” Her voice hardened. “Fucking Adele Dufour. My kid’s name was Pauline, by the way, before Adele turned her into a fucking Violet.”
“Did you know that Adele had taken your daughter?”
“How could I fucking know?”
Odette put a hand lightly on her wrist. “Cécile,” she said calmly. “We know that you are angry, but these officers are trying to find out what happened to Pauline. Please show them courtesy.”
Cécile stared defiantly at Kala before dropping her eyes. “Yeah,” she said but her voice was sullen.
Kala continued. “We understand that you spoke of knowing who had your daughter and that you intended to get her back. Is this true?”
“I suspected everyone while I was in jail, but no, I didn’t know for sure. I said that I was going to find out who had my daughter and get her back. I certainly didn’t know where Adele had disappeared to four years ago or that she’d taken my daughter with her. She never talked about where she came from. Cagey, wasn’t she just? We danced together in a strip bar and sometimes the girls went out afterwards for drinks or something to eat. We weren’t bosom buddies or anything.”
“Did Adele know you when you were pregnant?”
“Yeah. Adele was around when the kid popped. She even covered a few of my shifts when I had to go to court. Adele had already quit by the time I was locked up. I thought she’d left town before Pauline was taken and didn’t even think of Adele as a possible suspect for a long time. I mean, why would I? How could I possibly know that she’d hung around after quitting Chez Louis and stolen my two-month-old baby?”
Kala asked, “Who is your daughter’s father?”
Cécile tilted her head to look sideways at Odette before answering. “Benoit Manteau. He didn’t know where she’d been taken either.” She swung her face back toward Kala. “Not that he could have done much to get Pauline back from his prison cell.”
“How did Benoit feel about being a father?”
“He didn’t get to meet her because he didn’t make bail. His trial was going on at the same time as mine, oddly enough. I guess now we’ll never have a chance to find out if he would have been a good father.” Cécile pulled the silver ring off her finger and bounced it up and down in the palm of her hand. “What Adele did to me is unforgivable. She stole my baby, for Chrissakes. If I had killed her, and I’m not saying that I did because I didn’t, it would have been with good reason. In a way, you could say that her husband gave her what the lying, two-faced bitch deserved.”
“Have you been to Kingston since you were released from prison?”
Cécile darted a look toward Odette then back at Kala. “No.”
“Do you keep in contact with Benoit or Etienne Manteau, or their cousin Philippe Lebeau?”
“I talk to Benoit by phone, maybe once a week. I check in with Etienne now and then to see if he’s found out anything about who took my kid, but so far nothing. He’d been trying to find out since she disappeared. Philippe has tried to help but he heard nothing. The provincial police, the Sûreté, were fucking useless. I don’t even think they gave a crap if they found my kid or not.”
Odette interrupted the flow of questions. “Cécile is working to make a clean break from her old life. I’m encouraging her to avoid Chez Louis and the other bars where she worked, as well as the toxic people from that time. She has a job in a restaurant chain and our goal is for her to work up to assistant manager.”
Cécile kept talking as if Odette hadn’t spoken. “Even if I had known that Adele took Pauline and where they were living, why would I have killed my own daughter after waiting so long to find her? I’m the victim here. You can’t turn it on me.”
“The thought of Cécile Simon as a mother chills the blood.” Gundersund swivelled on the bar stool to take another look around Chez Louis. He reminded Kala of a bird surveying the landscape for predators. Almost automatically, her eyes travelled around the room, following the same arc as his.
The lunchtime crowd hadn’t arrived yet and the waitresses were gathered by the kitchen talking. Émilie didn’t appear to be working today. An Asian woman in a skin-tight dress and stiletto heels with straight black hair to her waist was leaning on the other end of the bar, talking to Philippe Lebeau, who was serving drinks. He was watching them over the top of her head but so far hadn’t approached. He and the woman laughed about something and she put her hand on his arm. Prevost had gone to the washroom so Kala was content to wait for his return before she called Lebeau over. ZZ Top was singing about a sharp-dressed man from the loudspeakers in the ceiling at a level just below painful.
“This bar is a throwback to my college days,” said Gundersund. “Although the clientele in the Kingston bars that I frequented might have been a cut above this place.”
“Well, unless the clientele was strippers, bikers, and drug dealers, you spent time in bars of a higher calibre than Chez Louis.”
“Yeah, our fun was definitely more innocent.” Gundersund moved in closer so that he didn’t have to speak so loudly to be heard over the music. “How about you? Did you spend any time in bars when you were younger, Stonechild?”
His tone was playful, but Kala wasn’t sure where he was coming from. “I might have visited a few,” she said. “I learned that alcohol and me don’t mix very well.”
Gundersund nodded as if understanding, but how could he? He had no idea how low an addiction could bring you. He’d never woken up sick and desperate, the day’s only goal to get enough money together to buy another bottle before the shakes got too bad.
He looked over his shoulder and asked, “So, do you know who the girl is talking to Lebeau?”
As Kala adjusted her position to have another look at Lebeau, Prevost manoeuvred into the space behind their bar stools. “That’s Etienne Manteau’s chum Li Li. They’ve been living together almost two years. The word on the street is that she’s tam
ed him, but their relationship could have something to do with her father Wang Tao’s construction business and his nasty reputation. We’ve been keeping an eye on Tao for some time but he’s not a man easy to nail down.”
Gundersund looked at Prevost. “This just keeps getting better.”
Prevost smiled widely. “I can confirm that we’re never bored.”
Kala was watching Lebeau and Li Li when Etienne Manteau entered through the main door. He stopped and took in the scene before walking over to them. He slid an arm around Li Li’s waist and kissed her on the mouth. Lebeau stepped back and got busy wiping down the counter.
“Time to have our little chat.” Prevost left them and made his way over to Lebeau and Manteau. He gestured to a table close to the bar and Kala and Gundersund got off their stools to join them. Li Li, who took Lebeau’s place behind the bar, bent down and lowered the music volume, for which Kala was thankful. She felt the beginnings of a headache throb in her left temple.
Lebeau and Manteau took seats next to each other, with Prevost facing them and Kala and Gundersund on either flank. Prevost led the questioning this time.
“We’ve come to learn that Adele Dufour made off with Cécile Simon’s daughter while she was in prison and that the child was Benoit’s. We believe this was the same child who drowned behind Adele’s house outside Kingston. What do you have to tell us about this kidnapped baby, which you conveniently didn’t mention on our last visit?”
Lebeau cracked the knuckles on his right hand, the tattoos on his biceps flexing. “Perhaps you should ask Cécile. It was her kid.”
Prevost regarded Etienne. “Was your brother upset about his child going missing?”
Manteau ran a hand up and down across his beard as his brown eyes looked past Prevost to Li Li at the bar. He pulled his gaze back to Prevost before answering. “I doubt it. He never met the kid. I never met the kid.”
Prevost kept speaking to Manteau. “So nobody knew that Adele had taken Violet — or Pauline, as Cécile named her?”
“We didn’t have a clue until we heard about Adele’s death and her missing kid. Let’s say that puzzle pieces started slotting into place when we saw Adele’s photo in the news and heard she had a daughter the same age as Pauline would be. It’s not like Adele was pregnant when she conveniently disappeared at the same time as the kid went missing.”
“You didn’t think this worth mentioning when we last met?”
Manteau shrugged. “What good would it have done since we knew nothing before the two of them were murdered by her husband. It’s too late for Cécile and Benoit to have their daughter back.”
“You’re certain that Cécile didn’t know Adele had her daughter for the past three, almost four years?”
Lebeau answered, “Yeah. She would have said.”
Kala unfolded her arms and leaned on the table. “Do you not find it odd, Etienne, that your brother would father a child and then not care about what happened to her?”
Etienne’s eyes swung over to her. He gave a half-smile. “My brother is hardly in a place to care. He never met the kid and so had no feelings for her one way or the other.”
“And he wouldn’t have wanted to make Adele pay for taking his child?”
“Maybe if he’d known, but he didn’t know. None of us knew.” Etienne’s stare slid back to Li Li at the bar.
“So you keep saying.” Kala sat back and tried to still the pain now pulsing behind her eyes. “You and your brother don’t have any other children?”
“No.”
“Have you ever wanted children?”
Etienne and Lebeau both laughed at the same time. Etienne’s face reddened above his beard. “I have a couple of kids with different girlfriends. I pay them money to keep the brats out of my hair.”
Lebeau shrugged. “Maybe, but I can live without them.”
He and Etienne laughed again. Kala wanted to take her fist to both their faces. She knew that she had to disengage or this would become personal.
Gundersund held up a hand and said, “I hear you grew up together in Gatineau. You appear close.”
“My parents had a house and Philippe would come over to hang out,” Etienne said, “especially in the summer because of our in-ground pool.” He punched Lebeau on the arm. “He was like a stray dog that we got used to having around.”
“Yeah, while my mother entertained.” Lebeau exchanged a glance with Etienne.
Prevost asked more questions but Manteau and Lebeau gave nothing else away. Kala finally signalled to Prevost that they’d had enough. Gundersund said that he was going to the washroom before they hit the road. Traffic would be light and they’d be back in Kingston mid-afternoon. Prevost pulled out his cellphone while Etienne and Lebeau discussed the beer order.
Kala walked over to where Li Li was sitting on a bar stool, one long leg crossed over the other. She wanted to find out if Li Li gave off the same nasty vibe as Cécile Simon.
“Do you work here regularly?”
Li Li shook her head so that her silky hair swayed back and forth, giving off a coconut scent as she moved. Her eyes were perfectly almond-shaped and her lips upturned. Glossed in red, they formed a pouty rosebud. “I spell off Philippe behind the bar on his days off and lunchtimes now and then, depending on his shift. I also work in my father’s office.” Her accent was Chinese, maybe Mandarin, but Kala couldn’t be certain. “Philippe and Etienne will be having the afternoon off now that the beer order has been sorted out. They like having someone they can trust in charge of the till.”
“How’d you meet Etienne?”
“Through a dinner meeting with my father.” She smiled with small white teeth. Her black eyes invited shared confidences. “Being in charge suits Etienne. Benoit was a prick in many ways.”
Kala began to ask what Li Li meant, but Etienne was suddenly next to her and slung his arm across her shoulders. Kala thought about getting rid of him but Gundersund was waiting by the front door, and if they left now she’d have the afternoon to herself until Dawn got home from school. Her head was making her nauseous and she needed to get out of this place before she couldn’t function.
“Here’s my card, if you think of anything else.” She handed it to Etienne but realized even as she did so that the gesture was futile. No way would anyone in the Manteau inner circle be telling tales. She was quite certain they hadn’t said anything truthful since the police walked in the door. Lying was second nature for the whole lot of them. Etienne took the card and tucked it into his pocket. He saluted her and walked toward the front entrance with his arm around Li Li’s waist.
“They make a pretty couple, don’t they?” Lebeau said as he walked behind the bar to get his jacket. He stepped back from behind the counter and over to where Kala was sitting. “Have you ever thought about dancing on stage?” he asked, his eyes running up and down her body in a look both suggestive and slimy. “You have a nice body … for a cop. You move pretty good too. Nice hip motion.”
Kala laughed. “Yeah, thanks. I’ll keep it in mind in case if I ever take complete leave of my senses.”
Chapter Twenty-Four
Fred Taylor punched through a call to Woodhouse just before seven o’clock. When Woodhouse put down the receiver he scratched his belly and called over to Bennett, who was researching something on his computer. They were staying late because they’d taken the morning off to sleep in and get some personal stuff done. Rouleau encouraged flexible hours when working a case or when they needed them. Woodhouse couldn’t argue with his management style.
“We need to head over to the Delaneys.”
Bennett looked up. “Something going on?”
“Not sure, but Ivo Delaney just called in that somebody broke into his house while he was out.” Woodhouse reached for his jacket that he’d flung on the desk when he’d returned from lunch. “
Sounds unlikely, but we should go have a look. Might be another opportunity to get him to confess.”
Bennett made a few clicks on whatever it was he’d been working on while he grabbed his jacket with his free hand from the back of the chair. “I thought Rouleau had a uniform watching the Delaney house.”
“He did up until yesterday.”
“Maybe somebody was waiting for an opportunity to break in.”
Woodhouse wanted to believe that Bennett was more than just a pretty GQ face but he was becoming less convinced the more time they spent together. He spoke slowly as if Bennett wouldn’t grasp what he was saying otherwise. “Ivo Delaney is doing everything he can to divert us from the fact that he killed his family. Having us believe he got broken into is just a ploy. Any idiot can see that.” Woodhouse wasn’t thrilled with the look Bennett gave him, but the guy was going to have to learn to accept criticism. Either that or keep his mouth shut so the stupid ideas didn’t escape.
Bennett took the wheel without asking, as he did now whenever they went out on a call. Woodhouse had driven Ed Chalmers around when he was the junior partner, so it was only fitting that Bennett did the same for him. He’d made it clear to Bennett from the get go that his role was the secondary one. Being chauffeured around also gave Woodhouse time to look at websites and check his email. He opened up the latest Whig-Standard online and looked for Marci Stokes’s article on Stonechild, but nothing yet. What the hell was the hold up? He’d practically handed her the text and all she had to do was give it the right outraged spin.
He looked out the side window. The rain had stopped for the moment but water glistened off the grass and had pooled in lower-lying areas. The countryside had turned into a bog. Flooding was affecting half the county. Brown, cold, and soggy. Man, he hated this time of year.
Tumbled Graves Page 18
