Flashback

by Ted Wood

  The guest I'd wanted to talk to was in the lounge. He asked me to come outside and I thought he might have something to say that would be important. He had not called me, he admitted, because he was embarrassed. I had to reassure him that what he said would be kept in confidence before he allowed that he had not been in his own room at all that evening. He had been elsewhere.

  I looked at him, a lean city-dweller in his late fifties, brown from his week of fishing but nervous. He was going through a divorce, he explained. He had come to the lodge to fish, nothing more, but he had struck up a friendship with a lady, he used the word with care, he was obviously smitten and wanted to keep her out of any hint of scandal. She was divorced, younger than he by some considerable amount, etc, etc. It's one of the older stories in the world but he figured he'd written it for the first time so I went along, then quietly checked with his date.

  She wasn't a bombshell, a quiet, pleasant woman in her forties, a birdwatcher, she said, who had come here for a few days' birding. Everything checked out so I thanked her and wished her luck and left, driving idly around the lake road, examining all the empty cottages. There are a number, even in the height of the season, which stand empty all week. This was Friday morning and the owners would be coming up from Toronto after the rush-hour for their weekends. In the meantime I wanted to be sure that nobody had broken into any of them, especially now that we had a shopbreaker in town. It would have been ideal for him, the perfect place to lie low for a couple of days. He would be on the move by now, ahead of the owners' return, but if luck ran my way, I might find where he had stayed and track him with Sam's help.

  There were only a few. I'd covered them all earlier in the week but I tried the doors and checked around again. There were no broken windows or signs of any forcing having been done so I went on until I came to Ms Tracy's place.

  Her car had gone. She might have retreated to Toronto, I thought, or perhaps just gone out for a while but I parked the car and got out, bringing Sam with me.

  The air-conditioning was still humming in the back window so it seemed as if she was still in residence. The verandah was open but the front door was locked and there were no signs of anything having been forced. I would have headed back to the car except that Sam began to growl. Most owners immediately shush their dogs, but that's a civilian reaction. I just stood back and watched him for a moment. It might have been a skunk or porcupine under the house, that would have triggered him, but he didn't make an approach. He growled low in his throat for about a half minute, under the rear window where the air-conditioner kept humming. And then he slowly tilted his head and howled, so softly that it was almost imperceptible but it made the hair stand up on the back of my neck. It was his response to something I wasn't hearing or seeing. And whatever it was, it was inside the cottage.

  I told him 'Good boy' and went around the place again, checking the doors. They were locked and I stood for a moment sniffing for smoke. Fire would have upset him. Or perhaps Marcia Tracy had left her radio on and they were playing some song that had high-pitched tones in it. If that was the case, it would end in a little while and so would Sam's reaction.

  I went back and checked him. He was still howling. Then he stopped and barked sharply. And that was the deciding factor. I'd seen him howl at music before, but nothing had ever made him bark. He was hearing something that his training told him was trouble.

  I didn't wait any longer. The back door had a glass pane in it and I took out my stick and knocked it in. The noise was shocking but Sam did not react. He continued to howl, and then bark. I stood at the broken window and looked in. I was looking into the kitchen. Nothing seemed out of place and I stood and listened carefully, hearing nothing at first, and then, very faint, a human noise, a moan.

  I whistled Sam and reached through to unlatch the door. There were bolts in it, in addition to the lock and I had to lean in over the broken glass and tap them open with my stick. Then I let Sam in and followed as he bounded out through the kitchen door and straight to the back bedroom.

  He bounced on stiff legs, barking furiously. I was a second behind him and saw what had distressed him. Marcia Tracy was lying naked across the bed, unconcious and bleeding, her face a swollen mask.

  'Easy,' I told Sam. 'Good boy.' He relaxed and I gathered the woman's arms to her sides and wrapped her up in the bedclothes. She made no sign of awareness so I left her and called Dr McQuaig. He was out, at the hospital in Parry Sound, but his wife was home and she's a nurse. She said she would come right over and warned me not to try to give the woman anything to drink or to move her. I was to call the ambulance at once. I know enough about first aid for her advice to be redundant but I said OK and dialled the ambulance number. The dispatcher told me they would be there in half an hour. Next I phoned the Parry Sound OPP and gave them the licence number of the missing Mercedes which I had in my notebook from two days before. The driver should be approached with care and should be held, I told them. Also the arresting officer should take a good look at the man's knuckles and check for blood on his clothing. The corporal said he would put it on the air and I hung up and went to look in on Ms Tracy and see if she was moving.

  She wasn't conscious but she was breathing and I bathed her face with cold water, hoping she would come around. She didn't and I knelt there, hopelessly, sponging her face and waiting for Mrs McQuaig. She arrived in five minutes, a rangy, capable Scotswoman who swept in and knelt beside me.

  'The poor wee thing's taken a pounding,' she said. 'Was she like this when you found her?'

  'Out cold. She's naked under the bedding.'

  'Had she been raped?'

  'I've no idea. I covered her up right away to keep her warm.'

  'That was guid,' she said in her soft Highland voice. 'She was punched,' she said firmly. 'I've seen the same injuries at Glasgow Royal on a Saturday night often enough. The man who did it has marks on his knuckles, most like. Any idea who it is?'

  'There was nobody here. If you'll stay with her I'll look around, see if he left anything left that Sam can get a scent from. But her car's gone. He likely took that.'

  'Do it,' she said. 'If she comes to I'll call you.'

  I left her and looked around carefully. Not much seemed to have been touched in the place. Ms Tracy's robe and a nightdress were lying on the floor at the entrance to the bedroom. The nightdress was a practical-looking item of flowered cotton. She had not been expecting an assignation, I judged. It was torn at the throat, the way a man might have ripped at it in his haste. On the kitchen table I found the remains of her breakfast, a coffee cup and half a grapefruit. There was no second cup and the kitchen was neat. It looked as if she had been finishing breakfast when the man arrived. It had not been a social call or she would have taken down another cup, the percolator was full.

  I checked her purse. It was turned upside down on the couch in the living-room, the contents, cosmetics and her cheque-book, lying there. Her keys were gone and there was no money or credit cards. Whoever had attacked her had robbed her and gone. He may have raped her first, we wouldn't know unless the doctor at Parry Sound took a swab, but judging by the torn nightdress I figured the attack must have had a sexual content.

  I led Sam back into the bedroom and let him sniff around the rug and the end of the bedclothes, then turned him loose with the command 'Track'. He ran to the front door and when I let him out he went directly to the point where I had last seen her car parked. Then he stopped and began casting around. I watched, wondering if he would find the man's arrival track. If he had come out of the woods I would follow him back to see where he had come from, probably the place he had spent the night. There might be something there that was useful. But he only went a few yards further down the driveway and then doubled back to the front porch.

  I put him over it again and he repeated the performance, step for step. It meant that the man's track began and ended on the driveway, which meant he had come in a car, which again meant that he had not been alone, so
meone must have driven off after leaving him here. In my eyes that meant that Kershaw had not been the guy.

  As I stood there I heard the wail of the ambulance siren coming up the road and I waited and waved them in. The paramedics jumped out and got their gurney and a board. One of them was a big serious-looking woman and she led the way, bossing the other one with a succession of curt commands. He was an older man, around fifty, and he followed her without a word, rolling his eyes at me helplessly.

  'In the bedroom,' I told them and they trotted in and took over from Mrs McQuaig.

  'Did you find her?' the woman asked her.

  'No, Chief Bennett did.' Mrs McQuaig narrowed her eyes. She was used to respect and this woman wasn't giving any out.

  'Was she like this?' The woman asked as she strapped an oxygen mask on Ms Tracy's face.

  'I wrapped her up and wiped her face. I have the swab here.'

  The woman unwrapped Ms Tracy and she and her assistant carefully got the board in place, supporting Ms Tracy's neck and wrapping her carefully in their own blankets.

  'Are you coming with us?' the woman asked. So far her assistant hadn't uttered a word.

  'Yes. I'll follow in the police car. Use your siren and get her up there pronto.'

  'We'll do our job. Just do yours,' she said.

  I picked up the swab, a bundle of paper towels I had used to wipe Ms Tracy's face with, and went into the kitchen for a plastic bag. 'You won't need that,' the woman said bossily.

  'You do your job and leave mine to me,' I said.

  She snorted. 'Come on, George, we haven't got all day.' She led the way with the gurney.

  I turned to Mrs McQuaig. 'I want to be there when she comes around. Could you do me a favour please and wait here until I get back? I want to fingerprint this place later and I don't want anyone else in here.'

  'What if the guy comes back?' She asked the question without fear, the way she might have asked for a weather forecast.

  'Wait in your car on the road. If anyone drives in, get the licence number and drive to Pickerel Point and call me on the phone. Same thing if anyone goes into the bush behind the house. If there's no answer, call the Parry Sound OPP. I'll be back in about an hour. It's a lot to ask, but could you take it on, please? I don't have anybody else.'

  'Sure,' she said grimly.

  'Thank you, Alice.' I touched her on the shoulder and left with my plastic bag in my hand, and took off after the ambulance.

  The man was driving, taking out his frustration, I guessed, wailing his siren and winding the ambulance up pretty good for such a narrow road. But speed was important, I had a lot to do once I'd spoken to the doctors and installed an OPP man at the hospital to speak to Ms Tracy when she came to.

  We sped up the highway and reached the hospital within twenty minutes, faster than I'd driven it with Fred on her way to Emergency. There was a doctor waiting for us and he took charge at once. I followed him into the examining room, carrying my plastic bag.

  He worked quickly, checking her vital signs, then sending her in for a head X-ray. While we waited for the plate I had a chance to speak to him. 'These are the paper towels I used to wash her face. If the man who did this cut his knuckles, his blood may be here as well. Is there any way of checking the group?'

  He was young and had the oddly cropped beard that you usually see only on Mennonites, an earnest guy. He took the bag in one hand and looked at the bloody mess inside. 'It won't be simple but I'll try. I'll only use part of it for my test. If I don't get anything we can send the rest to the forensics place in Toronto.'

  'Thank you, Doctor. Also, I want to speak to her as soon as she comes to.'

  'Right.' The X-ray technician brought in the plate she had just exposed and he nodded thanks and clipped it on to a light board. He looked at it for a long time, then shook his head, puzzled. 'I'm not a neurologist but I can't see anything wrong, structurally.'

  'What does that mean?'

  He looked at me, tapping his teeth with his right thumbnail. 'It means that the wounds are superficial. And in every case like that I've ever seen that means she should be conscious by now.'

  'You think she should be able to talk to us now?'

  He nodded thoughtfully. 'I think maybe there's something else, like, say, she's ingested something that's anaesthetized her.'

  'Like what?'

  He pondered some more. 'It's impossible to say. She doesn't smell of alcohol but other than that it could be any kind of depressant, an illegal drug of some kind, maybe heroin.'

  I thought about that for a moment, remembering how reluctant she had been to talk to me. 'Is there a chance that she's just acting unconcious so I can't talk to her?'

  'Is that likely?' He frowned now. In a rural hospital like this he wouldn't have treated many crime victims, he wouldn't know how suspicious a cop can be.

  'It's a possibility. There's a lot going on down on my patch, her ex-husband was murdered there and she's involved in a couple of things that make me suspicious.'

  'Well then—' he straightened up and flicked off the light on the panel—'we'd better check that out.'

  CHAPTER 10

  As a former hockey player I'd thought the doctor might have used smelling salts under her nose to bring her around, but he wasn't about to do anything so rough and ready. Instead he went back to her and leaned over, close to her ear, and said loudly, 'Can you hear me?' He repeated it a couple of times, then glanced up at me and said, 'I don't think she's conscious,' and to her, 'I'm going to take a sample of your blood to test for drugs. You'll feel a little jab.' He swabbed her arm and took a vial of blood, wiped her arm again and put a Band-Aid on the mark.

  A nurse came in and took the blood sample away. I told him, 'There were signs of a scuffle at the scene, Doctor. I think she might have been sexually assaulted. Can you examine her for that, please?'

  'If you like. Turn your back,' he said primly. When the nurse returned he told her, 'Betty, I have to make a test to see if this woman has been assaulted. Get a swab, will you, please. In fact, get three of them, we'll do this right.'

  I turned and stared at a blood pressure machine on the wall until he said, 'All right, Officer.'

  I turned back and he nodded. 'There are signs of recent sexual activity. It doesn't necessarily signify violence but it may.'

  'Can you label the swabs for me, please? I'll have to send them to forensics.'

  'Right.' He sent the nurse for plastic bags and he marked each swab and I initialled and sealed them in his presence and hung on to them. He said, 'I'm sure she would never have allowed me to take those swabs if she were conscious. That's good enough for me.'

  I held up one hand. 'You're the expert, Doctor. I'll ask the Parry Sound guys to leave a policeman with her. When she comes around she can talk to him.'

  'Good. In that case I'll get her assigned a bed. She'll probably be in the intensive care unit if you want to leave now.'

  'A detective from the Parry Sound unit is going to meet me here. I'll stay with her until then.'

  There was a tap at the door and he called, 'Come in.'

  Holland came in. ' 'Morning, Dr Baer, 'mornin', Betty. I'm here to talk to Chief Bennett, can I take him away a while?'

  'Of course.' The doctor seemed relieved.

  The nurse smiled and said, 'Chief Bennett. You're our new father, aren't you?'

  'Yes. I'd like to visit my wife after I've spoken to Sergeant Holland, if that's OK.'

  'I'm sure it will be.' She didn't seem hung up about visiting hours.

  Holland led me outside. 'Let me get this straight. That woman's the ex-wife of this Waites guy?'

  'Right. Someone beat her up, raped her probably, then locked her place and took the car.'

  'Could be this Kershaw guy who's on the lam from Joyceville. He's not been picked up yet.'

  'If it is, he's with someone else. Sam tracked him to the driveway and lost him. He must have arrived by car.'

  He scratched his chin, making a rasp
ing noise where he'd missed a few whiskers that morning. 'You sure set a lot of store by that dog's nose.'

  'He does a good job, never been wrong yet.'

  'Yeah, well. We've got the car on the air. When'd you think this happened?'

  'She'd had breakfast but hadn't washed up yet. So the guy hasn't had more than a couple of hours.'

  'That's a hundred, maybe a hundred and fifty miles. Hell, he could be half way to the States now.'

  'The guys at the border would find him if he tries to cross. I specified that in my call. Also I've mentioned that her credit cards are missing.'

  'Have you reported that?'

  'No. I came right up here as soon as the ambulance arrived. I'll take a minute and do it next.'

  'Good. That could get us somewhere. If the guy's dumb enough to use the card.'

  We talked a little longer and he promised to have a uniformed man detailed to sit with Ms Tracy and take a statement when she came around. In the meantime there was nothing else to do but notify the credit card companies that her cards had been stolen by a man we wanted on a major felony charge. With their computer working for us we would soon have a location if the thief tried to use one of the cards.

  The companies were easier to deal with than the government. But not by much. I wasn't sure which cards she had and I was forced to do some bullying before the clerks at the other end of the line would tell me whether she was a customer. And then I had to speak to supervisors before I could get them to promise cooperation if the cards were used. It took half an hour before I was free to go upstairs to visit Fred.

  She was dozing when I got to the room and I sat by her bed for about ten minutes before she opened her eyes with a start and saw me. She wasn't so limber today but she was just as cheerful as ever and we went around to the nursery and looked at the baby, who was asleep. It was pleasant, feeling like a civilian for a few minutes, and I tried to keep my mind off the case I was working on but Fred soon saw through me.