by J M Dolan
“How did you both get into Canada?” Jamee prompted. “I’m certain you came with Veronika to Montréal first, a full two weeks before you flew to Calgary.”
“The bad man gave Veronika two temporary work visas for exotic dancers. She called herself Veronika Koval then. That was name I made for her. Jamee, I tried to get away, but she never left me alone. She would go to bathroom with me and leave door open so she could watch. At night she tied me to bed and sleep next to me. One night she put the pillow over my face and held it there until I passed out. Then she beat me for wetting the bed. I hated her,” Even through the phone Odessa’s rage was a palpable thing, filled with bitterness and malice.
“Bloody hell,” Jamee ground out the words. Bile was burning a hole in the back of her throat. “I am so sorry, Odessa.”
“They made me dance for the men in Montréal, and the men laughed. They said being able to dance wasn’t required. I was so ashamed. One of the men, he was a monster. He says he buy me for his stable. He wants me to go with him, but Veronika, she says she take me to Calgary in a few days. After we go to Calgary, that’s when I try to get away.”
Jamee sensed she couldn’t keep Odessa on the phone much longer. Her voice now held an urgency that was unmistakable.
“Are you at Fish Creek? We’re nearly there.”
“I have no time. The Wolf, he comes for me.”
“Wait for us?” Jamee was frantic. “The two men’s names, who are they? Who is the Wolf?”
“They only ever called him The Wolf. The other man, the one who bought me is an evil pig who buys and sells people. Mstislav,” Odessa ground the name out. “They called him Mstislav. He had tiny, cruel piggy-eyes that watched me. He rubbed at his groin and told me to take off my clothes while I danced. When I got to my underwear, Veronika told me to get dressed and growled at Mstislav to save it for later, show over. Mstislav laughed and howled at her.”
Sam took out his tablet early in the conversation and with precision was making notes while they spoke. Conscious of the need to get vital information, Jamee pressed for details.
“What did the Wolf look like? Describe him!” Jamee demanded, but Odessa was caught up in her story and deaf to Jamee’s command.
“She pull me along. I tugged at her. She had made me wear shoes I couldn’t walk in and they hurt my feet. She was yelling foul words at me to hurry and calling me ugly things. She grabbed me by the arm and dug her nails in, hard. I scratched her. She punched me and I pushed her back. We struggled. She fell against the rail in the big car park. I pushed her hard and she went over — over the parking garage wall.” Odessa, her voice escalating, choked out the words. “She was clawing at me. Then she was screaming and screaming. I wanted her to shut up, but then it was worse when it stopped. I made myself look over the rail. I didn’t want to see, but I had to. She was lying with her back to me but her head was smashed in. God, her head,” Odessa sucked in a huge gulp of air, “it looked snapped from her neck. I kicked off those horrible shoes and ran down the stairs. When I came out the exit I was close to Veronika.. Her shoes had come off. I didn’t want to go near her, but I needed the shoes. She was dead, Jamee. I couldn’t touch her, but I knew she was dead. I am so sorry. Please forgive me. I didn’t mean to kill her. I just wanted to get away.”
“Odessa, tell me,” Jamee urged. “The Wolf, what does he look like?”
There was no answer except a gagging, gurgling sound followed by thrashing and the clatter of the phone hitting something. The silence was deafening.
“Holy shit.” Jamee looked at Sam in shock. He had quit taking notes.
Avery cursed and punched the gas pedal. It was useless; they were still several minutes away from the park entrance.
***
When they arrived at the designated location the place looked deserted. Avery pulled into the gravel parking lot and stopped.
They stepped out of the SUV and headed towards the bus stop sign and nearest picnic table. Sam spotted it first, under the bench near a table leg. He bent to retrieve the object and held it out for the others to see. It was a small inexpensive cell phone.
“Check the number,” Jamee said.
Sam brought up the information and passed the phone to Jamee.
“It’s hers.” Jamee handed the phone back, glancing around. “No signs of a struggle, but something made her leave without the phone. We should split up to search,” Jamee suggested. “I know the park quite well. Sam if you take Burnsmead, and Thomas Bankside, you’ll both be traveling along the Bow River to the boat launch. The launch has access to the Deerfoot Trail, as well as the river and its kept open as long as there is safe access to the river. The water is still ice free so aside from having gotten back on the bus, the boat launch is the most likely way out of this area.
“I’ll short cut it through Lafarge Meadows to the boat launch and we’ll meet up there. Unless someone has a better idea. What we heard sounded like Odessa was being attacked. I don’t think she got back on the bus.”
“Agreed” said Sam, “but I don’t like the idea of splitting up, and I’m calling Dunbar for backup.” He dug out his phone without waiting for confirmation.
“Absolutely” said Jamee. “Look, I’ve promised Abi I’ll be cautious, so I will. I won’t leave the trees, and I won’t approach the boat launch until either you or Thomas arrives.
“Swear?” said Sam urgently as Dunbar came on line.
“So help me God,” promised Jamee.
***
Jamee sat watching Lafarge Meadows. The scattered boulders on the bluff above the launch, offered some concealment, but only slight protection from a bitter wind. It was as close as she could get without breaking her promise to Sam.
She’d spotted the woman lying on the end of the pier the moment the boat launch came into view.
The woman was young, though Jamee could barely see the face. The figure was motionless, the wool coat wrapped tightly around her body, and, despite the cold, her hands and feet were bare. Absurdly, it was her slender feet with their brightly painted toes that drew Jamee’s attention. That and the pool of blood around her head.
It all seemed so strange; the woman had to be Odessa Koval. She couldn’t quite get her brain around it and did her best to block out the blood, but her mind kept coming back to those brightly painted toes. All she could think, as she stared in horror, was there wasn’t a beach for hundreds of miles.
Jamee heard the whine of a boat as she cut through the meadow. Now, all was quiet and still. Not even a ripple on the water. The Bow River was open, but moving in slow-mo, winter’s icy fingers beginning their grip on the edge where the water met the river’s bank.
There were drag marks in the gravel. That must have been how the shoes were lost. Not a good fit after all.
It was all kind of surreal; the effect of seeing a dead body in such a mundane location. She’d been there when her father died, but that was different. This was violent and sudden. A quick snuffing out that left her feeling disoriented and queasy. There was another sensation too, equally disturbing. It felt like a trap. She could feel eyes on her watching, waiting. Were they using the woman as bait to lure her in? She must remain cautious. She didn’t want to be the next corpse laid out beside the unfortunate woman below. Jamee moved off the bluff and into the bush along the water. She would stick to the plan, but it was a bloody cold wait.
A twig from the riverbank willows snapped behind her. Her gut reaction was a shotgun start as she pivoted towards the sound. She launched the water bottle in her hand in the direction of the noise. At the last second she realized it was Sam moving out of the bush, but it was too late and the projectile, smacked him in the chest. Sam let go of the branch he’d been holding to free his hand and ward off the attack. The bottle hit him harmlessly, but the branch snapped back with a stinging slap.
“Jesus Christ, Jamee.” Sam stood there holding the half full water bottle and rubbing his jawbone.
“Oh my word, give me that, and
don’t Jesus me,” she said, as she made an unsuccessful swipe at the bottle. Sam held it away from her as though it was a weapon.
“Where were you?” Jamee heard the shrillness in her voice and fought to lower her tone.
Sam put up his hands in defence, “Thomas got lost and I had to double back.
She glared at him, hands on hips. “I’ve had a bit of a fright here.” Jamee gestured towards the boat launch. “Since you haven’t noticed — dead body. Should we do this the hard way, or the easy way?”
Sam looked towards the pier. “That has to be Odessa.” His jaw clenched. “Did you see anyone?”
“No. We should go investigate,” said Jamee.
“We should stay put until Sergeant Dunbar gets here.” The voice came from behind. Avery stepped out from amongst the willows. He was covered with grass and a few broken leaves stuck in his hair. He looked like he’d fallen and rolled down a hill. Obviously, he was a man more at home behind the wheel than in the bush.
“Thomas, glad you could join us. I thought Sam here was going to have a beard like Van Winkle by the time you showed up,” snapped Jamee.
“What’s she so cranky about?” Avery looked to Sam for answers while brushing at his clothes.
“Dead body,” said Sam.
Avery took in the scene below where the body lay by the pier.
Jamee started forward. Sam placed an arm around her shoulder halting her.
“I’m astonished by your complete lack of urgency,” she said, directing her anxiety to him. She knew she was still not quite in control.
“Let’s do this the easy way,” he spoke soothingly, “got to give the Queen’s Cowboys time to get here, little one. We don’t want to mess things up.”
“I’ll check for signs of life,” said Avery. Making a wide swath as he moved towards the body.
“Jeez Louise, Sam,” there was a catch to her voice, “he whacking killed her.” She was shivering and clamped her teeth to keep them from chattering.
Sam held her closer, rubbing her back and arms to create some warmth. Jamee anxiously eyed Avery’s return.
“Dead and definitely Odessa. Bloody hell, we were almost home,” said Avery. “I’ll go back and bring the SUV around. One of us should stay here. Jamee, you could come with me, “he offered. “The vehicle will be warmer.”
“Thanks, but no, I’d like to stay with Sam. I owe it to Odessa.” Jamee was relieved her voice had returned too normal and the words came without the woodpecker stutter. “I’ll be right as rain. I just needed a minute.”
“Here, maybe some water will help.” Sam passed her the water bottle. Sam kept that comforting arm around her as Avery headed out — down the walking path this time.
Seeking protection from the wind, Jamee and Sam moved into a heavier stand of trees, nearer to the pier. Conscious of not messing up the crime scene they were careful to stay well away from the direction of the drag marks leading from the bush. Still they could see blood on the trail made by the woman’s heels and the top of her coat was saturated.
It seemed forever before Avery’s SUV, and Dunbar with two uniforms in a marked police car, pulled into the parking lot on the far side of the boat launch. Jamee and Sam made their way toward them. With practiced efficiency Dunbar was already giving direction to the two constables and completing a call to the coroner.
“Sergeant Dunbar,” Jamee said in greeting. “This might be of little consequence, but something that seems unusual for this time of the year. When I was cutting across the meadow, I distinctly heard the sound of a motor boat. We haven’t seen any other vehicles. So short of accessing public transportation, I’m wondering if the attacker might have used a boat to get away.
“How so?” asked Dunbar, his attention focused fully on her.
“The killer may have been trying to drag the body into a boat with the intention of dumping it in the river. I know it’s a little late, but you might want to send an officer to check out the landing on the opposite side of the Bow.”
Dunbar sent one of the uniforms with a reminder to look for any security camera footage in the area. The remaining RCMP officer set about securing the crime scene while Dunbar took their statements. Once done, he motioned them forward to approach the body. His actions were professional, but his grey-blue eyes were full of compassion. Death was never easy. One of the officers had covered the woman with an emergency blanket. Dunbar lowered the fabric far enough to expose the woman’s face, but kept the grisly wound inflicted on her throat hidden. A quick look confirmed it was Odessa Koval. Jamee offered up a quiet prayer.
Their duty done, Jamee was happy to wait on the sidelines and let the men talk. She needed to call Abi and be the one to tell her the news. Abi would be waiting anxiously for information after her recent contact with Odessa.
It wasn’t a long conversation. Jamee promised she would fill in the details when she got home. Abi was stunned by the news. Jamee figured it would take her awhile to process the events. And, she’d have to find a way to tell the kids. They’d been looking forward to Odessa coming to live with them.
A thought struck her while she’d spoken with Abi and she wanted to discuss it with Sam and the others. How would Odessa’s killer have known she was meeting someone at Fish Creek? Had he been following the woman? There had to be another way the assailant tracked her.
Jamee was just hanging up with Abi when the men joined her.
Dunbar spoke first. “It needs to be confirmed by the Medical Examiner, but it looks like the woman has been garrotted. Ugly business.”
Jamee worked hard to control a shudder and the twinge in her stomach. “I’ve been thinking and worrying over something and it occurred to me, Odessa must have been followed. She said someone was after her, and after the information she provided, I can venture a guess.” The men looked to Jamee expectantly. “The reality is someone killed Odessa — Kaminski is dead, so it had to be The Wolf, or the man she called Mstislav.”
“Mstislav,” said Dunbar with contempt. “Now that’s a name I’ve heard. Vice has been trying to nail that bottom feeder for years. He has a stable of prostitutes and is a known drug lord, but every time we drag him in on charges we end up having to release him. We’ve never been able to make a solid case to get a conviction in court. It’s an exercise in frustration. The evidence on the drug charges has been weak, and the women become comatose when asked about their relationship with him. He’s a brute with protection and no one will come forward. They’d rather take their chances behind bars than dance toe to toe with Mstislav.”
“Odessa may be dead, but Sam took her statement enroute, and the three of us can testify to content. Perhaps that will help to nail this Mstislav.” Jamee straightened her shoulders and raised her chin ready to face the next challenge.
“What we need to do now is to figure out who the Wolf is,” she said, “and find him. That brings me back to my concern. Odessa admitted she is responsible for Kaminski’s death. During the altercation in the parkade, she pushed her over the five-story wall. Odessa, only named two others, the Wolf and Mstislav. Which one is responsible for her death?”
“You bring up a good point,” said Sam. “With a stable full of victimized women, one more or less, shouldn’t make Mstislav put his operation at risk, to get rid of one woman.”
“Agreed,” spoke Avery and Dunbar simultaneously.
“My gut tells me the Wolf is Odessa’s killer,” said Jamee. “My concern is how he could have found her precisely at the location she gave Abi.”
“I see where you’re going with this Jamee,” said Sam. “We already know listening devices were found in Abi’s house, and in our cars but they’ve been debugged. Your very real worry is that someone was listening in on your conversation with Abi, and that might mean the farm isn’t safe.”
Dunbar already had his phone out. “I’ll get a team over there to do a perimeter search and sweep the property for bugs. In addition, I’ll send the swat team to pick up Mstislav. No mistakes or
escapes.”
Jamee sent Sergeant Jock Dunbar a grateful smile. Her concern for Abi and the kids was more than a nagging worry. Some instinct told her things were coming to a head.
Chapter Twenty-Three
The three of them gathered at Abi’s Calgary house chowing down on much needed comfort food — burgers, fries and soft drinks. Jamee liberally spiked the drinks with each man’s preference. That meant a dash of Newfoundland Screech for Sam, and a little of the Queen’s finest, Lamb’s Navy rum for Thomas. Both men were so very predictably.
Only a dash was required if your choice of poison was Newfoundland Screech. Forty percent alcohol by volume made Screech the next best thing to moonshine. Jamee decided to join Sam in his East-islander choice.
Thomas’s preference had traditions tied to the British Navy. The Brits began issuing a daily ration of rum to its sailors in the mid-sixteen hundreds. It wasn’t until 1970 that a decision was made by the British Royal Navy to end the daily rum rations.
Satiated, Jamee got up and cleared away the table. They’d eaten first and now sat sipping their drinks. Jamee kept flashing back to the frantic, final conversation with Odessa, and the gruesome scene at the boat launch. She wondered for the umpteenth time how life could be so ugly.
“We should, to coin an architectural phrase, practice some — Critical Planning. ’Cause what I learned today is you’re a long time deid.” Jamee raised her glass in toast to Sam and Thomas. They mimicked the movement.
“I imagine we’ll be hearing from Sergeant Dunbar shortly,” said Sam.
“It’s a scary thought that the farm might have been targeted,” said Jamee. “I’ve been thinking about that threat and something else.”
“What’s that?” asked Sam.
“About how little we know regarding Aleksey Volkov. For someone in his position, there isn’t much information out there — past or present.” Jamee handed her drink to Sam so he could add a splash more soda to it. It might be wise to dilute the Screech a bit more.
