“Exactly,” I said excitedly. “No biologist worth his salt would track an animal and then not weigh and measure it. He’s done that for five of the cats.”
“What are you getting at, Cordi?”
“The sixth cat has no physical characteristics recorded.” I clicked the window and pointed to the computer screen. “He’s recorded movement and activity and general location in western Quebec, but no physical characteristics at all.”
“It must have been accidentally deleted.”
“Does this word processing program have hidden text capability?” I said, trying to contain my growing excitement.
Ryan looked at me curiously and nodded. “Yeah, sure it does. Move over and I’ll see if I can bring anything up.”
Ryan keyed in some commands and suddenly the text of Diamond’s sixth cat doubled in size. I grabbed the mouse from him and scrolled to the beginning of the document, and there it was. Height. Weight. Length. My heart was beating like a bloody racehorse at the photo finish.
“Take a look at the weight, Ryan.”
“Fifty kilograms. What of it?”
“That’s a hell of a size for an adult Canada lynx.”
Ryan looked at me, and then clicked on all the other file windows. Not one of Diamond’s adult lynx weighed more than ten kilograms. Not surprising, since female lynx average about 8.6 kilograms.
I looked at Ryan, blowing out my cheeks in excitement. I pointed at the computer screen. “This cat’s at least five times the weight of an adult lynx. There’s only one cat in Canada that big.”
I let the words hang in the air for effect. This was my moment of triumph and I wanted to savour it. Ryan looked at me expectantly.
“It was a cougar, Ryan. Diamond was monitoring a pregnant cougar!”
Ryan stood looking at me, uncomprehending, my dramatic little revelation having had no effect on him.
“So what? Even if he was studying a cougar I don’t see what that has to do with Diamond’s death. He was a cat man. He studied cats. What’s the problem?”
“Cougars haven’t been found in Western Quebec for generations.”
Ryan let out a long, low whistle and said, “You’re joking. Are you sure?” Ryan’s shift from boredom to excitement was palpable, and I spoke quickly.
“Of course I’m sure. Lots of people have claimed to have seen them over the years but there’s been no believable evidence. Most biologists think they are extinct, gone, vanished, forever dead here in Quebec, but they are officially listed as endangered in eastern Canada because there have been so many unconfirmed sightings over the years. Recently someone found a small population in New Brunswick. If Diamond really had found a cougar, it would be dynamite. Logging would stop on the instant. The spotted owls in the old growth on the west coast forced the loggers to stop out there not too long ago.”
Ryan heaved out of his chair. “I’m famished. Let’s celebrate with something from your fridge.” Ryan was going to eat me out of house and home before Rose and the kids returned from her parents’ cottage. Still, it was nice to have him around to myself every night to talk things over. I knew I’d miss his nightly company when Rose got back. Oh sure, I’d get my fill by visiting them as I always had, but it wasn’t the same. I wouldn’t have his undivided attention. I thought of Patrick then, as Ryan and I linked arms and walked across the farmyard and down the road to my house.
The sun was spilling its guts all over my porch when we got there. I threw some steaks on the barbecue and Ryan made a salad. The crickets serenaded us as we continued our conversation on the porch.
“How the hell did you make the connection?” he asked.
“The baseball game, a necklace, and that crumpled scrap of paper I found by Diamond’s pack.” I told Ryan what I thought I’d read on the paper. “Anyway, Shannon had a necklace with a tooth embedded in silver. She told me it was a cougar tooth and that Diamond had found it in Florida. I didn’t make the connection then, but when I listened to the uproar as the Panthers won the game I realized that what was written on that smudged scrap of paper wasn’t ‘antlers’ at all. It could just as easily be ‘panthers,’ another name for cougars. I suddenly figured the cat with no statistics might have no stats for a reason.”
“You’re talking about a career-making discovery here, and he sits on it? Why didn’t he break the news earlier instead of radio-collaring the beast and following it around for a few months?”
“He wanted solid, irrefutable proof I guess. Not just a photo of a cougar but a photo of a cougar with cubs! What a coup! He’d never lack for grant money again.”
I was on a roll. Theories leaping all over the place.
“It had to be ironclad,” I said. “He must have sat on it to keep sightseers out until he had it all well documented. Maybe he was afraid of someone coming in and blasting the beasts out of the world if he announced his findings too soon.”
I stopped suddenly and looked at Ryan
“What? I hate it when you look like that.”
“The film we found out on the portage. Suppose …”
“It was pictures of the cougar?” said Ryan, catching my excitement and running with it.
“You got it! You know what this means, don’t you? It means that just about everyone has a double motive. Everybody except perhaps Lianna and Shannon stood to gain in a big way if they were sole party to Diamond’s secret.”
“How so?”
“Supposing Roberta and Don were working together and discovered Diamond’s cougars. It would make their careers. If they steal Diamond’s discovery for themselves they’d hit it big, and instead of losing their jobs and going down in disgrace, they’d cement their reputations.”
Ryan got into the act.
“Then there’s Leslie, right? She kills three birds with one stone by inheriting Diamond’s job, getting revenge on an old lover, and taking over his discovery. She did tell you she was working on something new.”
We were really getting into our stride here.
“Even Davies could have done it. He’s so crazy about the reputation of his university and this would bring kudos and likely cement his appointment as university president.”
“Wait a minute, Cordi. We’re getting carried away here. If any of these guys killed Diamond for his discovery then why hasn’t anyone announced it yet?”
“Because maybe they haven’t been able to find out where the cougars are. Maybe all they have are Diamond’s photos and they’ve been spending time trying to find the cougars. That might explain the break-in at Shannon’s, maybe the lost pages in the diary. Maybe it wasn’t a will. Maybe whoever it was was looking for something that would indicate where these cougars are.”
“On the other hand,” said Ryan, “if the killer is Cameron or Donaldson or any of the loggers, as soon as they find the cougar they’ll shoot it and bury it into oblivion to keep the logging going.”
I looked at Ryan in horror.
“God, I hope not,” I said, but I knew it was as plausible as any of the other theories we had been kicking around. “The miller’s crowing because the worth of his mill has climbed back up since Diamond died and he’s accepted a firm offer to buy. Having an endangered species suddenly pop up hanging around your logging area is a death sentence for logging. For all we know they may already have found and killed the cougar.” What a depressing thought. I quickly changed gears.
“Martha has a completely different theory,” I said. “She’s convinced that Cameron and his cronies are poaching fish or something and that Diamond found out. Cameron knew there was a rogue bear in the area. He could have baited Diamond no problem. He gets rid of Diamond and saves his poaching business and his logging job.”
“Possible,” said Ryan. “It also explains why the body was moved. Suppose Diamond died in their poaching area and they didn’t want the wildlife people coming around to kill the bear and find evidence of poaching.”
“Yeah, that’s what Martha thought. But the cougars also give a g
ood reason for why the body was moved, assuming he died somewhere near the female’s den.”
“What about Shannon?” asked Ryan.
“This wouldn’t alter her motive. I don’t think she’d gain anything from a cougar discovery. She’s still a suspect because of what she stands to inherit if that will is ever found. If it ever existed.”
“And Patrick? What about Patrick?” asked Ryan, and I felt my heart jump. I had been trying to ignore any thoughts I had about Patrick because they all seemed to point in a direction I didn’t want to go.
“I wouldn’t want to be in Patrick’s shoes if he’s the killer,” I said reluctantly. “He has a double motive that splits him right down the middle.” I told Ryan all about Patrick and his mother’s ownership of the mill.
“Patrick presumably gets his mother’s shares if she is judged incompetent?”
“You got it. So he obviously had to decide which stood to bring a bigger bonus for him: the sale of the mill so he and his mum would have money to live on right away or the announcement that he had found cougars in the area, which would immediately decrease the value of the mill to practically zip. From what Ray said he’s chosen the latter. Or has he?” Did he know about the cougars? Was he trying to have his cake and eat it too?
“So basically we can’t eliminate anybody.”
“Yes and no,” I said. “According to the book Roberta showed me, if I remember correctly, most of them were in the bush. Leslie and Don were at their study sites on those dates — Roberta was with Don. Leslie was alone. Patrick had gone out to collect samples from east of the river and returned some days after Diamond’s death. Lianna said she was at her cottage, which is up in that area somewhere. Shannon was cooking meals at the barricade while Diamond was gone.”
“What about the loggers?”
“Apparently Ray and Donaldson and Cameron and a skeletal crew were up there to build the camp and protect the equipment from the barricaders, or so they told me.”
“Jesus, the woods were jumping with people. No wonder we can’t find any remote wilderness anymore.”
I lapsed into silence and watched a moth fluttering frantically at the lighted window.
“How’s work going, Cordi?” It was another question I was dreading, but I also knew that Ryan wasn’t asking just to make conversation. He really wanted to know. But I didn’t want to talk about it, so we sat there deep in thought watching the sunset. There was a long wisp of a cloud just above the trees, and the sun had lit it up in tints of deep red and purple. It looked like a nasty scar slashing its way across the horizon, reminding me of the red welt on the rock. Upon remembering, I jumped up so suddenly that Ryan spilled his drink.
“Good god, Cordi. What is the matter with you?”
“I was thinking about that crumpled piece of paper. The words ‘red welt ock’ were on there with some numbers and ‘NV,’ but it could have been ‘NW’.”
Ryan looked up. “Compass reading?”
“I hope so,” I said, trying to remember what the numbers had been as I pictured the little scrap of paper. “310!” I said triumphantly.
“It won’t do you much good unless you know where he was standing when he took the reading.”
“I think I know that,” I said, and I told him about the cliff I had seen with the huge red welt streaking down it.
“I think he’s blazed a trail from ‘red welt rock.’ Maybe it will lead to his cougar or to some other clue that will help me find out who took my disks.”
“Sounds like wishful thinking to me, Cordi.”
“Yeah, but I think he was following the cougar when he died. I know it holds the key to all this.” I could feel my resolve starting to waver.
“And what if you’re wrong?”
I didn’t want to think about that.
chapter twenty-two
I woke the next morning long before dawn and had a running battle with myself as to whether it was worth it to go up and take a look at the red welt or not. I kept coming up with good reasons to postpone it — I was getting more and more down on myself. I knew if I got up I would start to feel a little better, and if I didn’t I could always go back to bed again since it was Saturday. I lay in bed awhile longer, but my thoughts just got darker. I got up to go to the bathroom and things did brighten up. I decided to go. I stuffed a backpack with some extra clothes, food, compass, and pepper spray, and grabbed my day pack, sleeping bag, and a small tent just in case. Then I manhandled my canoe onto the Land Rover and lashed her down.
I caught the sunrise as I swung the Land Rover out of the farmyard and headed north to the logging camp. The Ottawa River picked up the rose red glow and blue of the sky. The area had received a lot of rain in the last few days and I had to throw the Land Rover into four-wheel drive to make it past one quagmire just outside the logging camp. There was a funny little rattle coming from some dark and oily place. I’d have to take some time to track it down; it was getting worse.
I almost didn’t see her because I was so preoccupied with the niggling little rattle, which was pretty incredible, seeing as how she was standing in the middle of the road waving her arms like windshield wipers, Land Rover–style. I coasted up beside her and rolled down my window. At first glance I didn’t recognize Roberta. Her designer jeans and silk blouse were covered in mud, and her hair was raked up inside some sort of cap, but her high-pitched voice gave her away as she explained what was wrong. Not that she needed to tell me. The skid marks were visible on the road and I could see her car was nose down in a small swamp, with someone still at the wheel.
“Is anybody hurt?”
Roberta looked back over her shoulder at the car.
“Oh, no it’s okay. That’s Shannon, Diamond’s girlfriend. She’s been steering and I’ve been trying to push the damn thing out of the ditch.’ She indicated the mud and dirt on her clothes and smiled sheepishly. “I think I just made it worse. Can you help?”
I loved moments like these. There isn’t anything that a Land Rover can’t haul out of a tight place. I backed the Rover up and waved at Shannon, who indicated she’d stay in the car to steer it. Roberta helped me secure the chains. As we were wrestling with them I took the opportunity to ask her what she was doing up here so early in the morning.
“You know biologists. Up with the birds,” she said cheerfully.
I looked over at Shannon, and Roberta followed my gaze. She laughed, a short nervous laugh.
“I tried to persuade her not to come, but she wanted to see Diamond’s camp. Davies has offered it to me as my field base for a Ph.D. if I want it, and he and Patrick are up there right now packing equipment. She showed up at his lab yesterday and found out that I was coming up. Begged for a ride.”
I glanced at Shannon. I could see her pale, haggard face looking back at us.
“What could I say? I couldn’t refuse her — she’s been through so much. And a couple of days spent up here might do her good.”
“Did she ever find the will?” Talk about being blatant. Roberta looked at me with well-deserved distaste.
“No, as a matter of fact she hasn’t, and if you think that’s why she’s come up here then you don’t know the difference between a grieving lover and a greedy widow.”
We let that hang between us like a bad taste as we finished securing the chains. I got behind the wheel of the Land Rover. Roberta’s car popped out of the swamp like a cork, just as I knew it would. Such a satisfying feeling of power. Roberta came over to thank me, and I asked her if she’d heard any news about Don.
She started as if she’d been bitten and looked at me guardedly.
“No. No word of him at all. It’s not like him, you know?”
I didn’t know so I didn’t say anything, just nodded and threw the Land Rover into gear.
Five minutes later I pulled into the main yard of the lumber camp. The early morning sun carved deep, long dark shadows across the huge hulking machinery. I drove down to the old road that led down to the lake. I got
out of the Land Rover, stretched and walked around to the front and began untying the canoe.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t Doctor Ph.D.” The voice came flying through the air like a homing pigeon. “What brings you here again so early in the morning?”
I stood up and peered over the hood to see Donaldson striding toward me, followed at some distance by an anxious-looking Ray and Lianna. Donaldson’s leer put the sun to shame, and I nimbly steered clear of his handshake by keeping my hands busy with the rope.
“Just following up a hunch,” I said. I looked at Lianna, and my face must have asked the question for me because she said, “They’re putting in a road for me up to my cottage. Ray here is showing me just where it will go.”
I nodded and looked at Donaldson.
“Have you sold your mill yet?”
Donaldson’s smile stole across his face like a kitten stealing cream. “Just signed the papers yesterday. Came up to sort everything out with Ray here.”
Ray and Donaldson exchanged glances, and then Ray said, “You’re welcome to one of the canoes down there. Save you untying your own, but better take your paddle. I don’t think there’re any decent ones down in the boat shed. Leslie’s down there, she can help you.”
“Leslie? What’s she doing around here?” I looked up, startled.
“I think she’s carting out some of the field equipment that she brought out of the bush late yesterday.”
I must have looked confused, because he continued.
“Her study site’s just up past the next portage. She always takes her equipment out here, has for years. Saves her two portages. We couldn’t exactly tell her she couldn’t do it anymore when we moved in. We’ve improved the road for her. It was a real cattle track before we came.” They asked me if I wanted some coffee. I politely refused and watched as they ambled off in the direction of the cookhouse.
Ray turned back then and called out, “Cameron and some of the loggers are out on the lake checking out some stuff for me. If you see him, would you ask him to get the hell back here? We need the outboard motor pronto.”
Forever Dead Page 23
