by Amber Boffin
Maggie, eager to ease the atmosphere, chose to ignore what happened and asked, “Is Fred one of your clients? You seem to have frightened him away!”
“No, he’s never visited me. Maybe a case of dental phobia, since you might have noticed his teeth look like a bicycle rack.”
“Yes, I saw that. I wonder what type of business he would be in.”
“Roof insulation, I believe. Anyway, a contractor of some kind.”
“Must be hard for him, all the same, the disappearance of his brother…”
Their conversation was interrupted by the chiming sound of a knife against a glass and Amy joining the pair. The crowd shuffled around, turning toward the small stage. A set of drums and instruments promised some entertainment. Richard Miller climbed up, his long figure standing out like a tall white pine among the canopy of maples. He looked very cheerful, a little unsteady on his feet, having enjoyed one too many glasses of champagne.
He held on to the microphone stand as if he hoped it would provide some support as he announced, “And now that you all have itchy feet, what better than our very talented friends to shake it up for you. Please welcome our infamous country band, the Haystack Needles!”
He jumped off the stage and grabbed his daughter by the waist, getting ready for the first dance. Maggie put her hand to her mouth, surprised to see the sergeant standing behind the microphone, dressed in a leather waistcoat with frills swinging around his belly, pointy cowboy boots, and a large cowboy hat.
She laughed. “Now I see the moustache is perfect… Who would have thought?”
Maggie wondered where she had seen the drummer’s face before…especially the eagle tattoo on his shoulder. She walked up to the stage to take a closer look and smiled as he looked down at her and winked. That wink was so familiar. Suddenly it dawned on her—it was Archie. He used to teach music at school, but in his twenties he had been very skinny, with long hair. He had certainly changed, with bulging muscles only steroids could explain and a Mohawk hairstyle. She wondered if he recognized her or whether he thought she was an admirer. At the mere thought of the latter, she rushed away from the stage to let the bride and her father open the dance.
After the first slow dance, the sergeant played his country repertoire with the guests joining the dance floor and singing along until late into the night.
Chapter Five
Already a week had gone by since Amy’s visit and the wedding. A creature of habit, Maggie had decided that Sundays would always remain free to enjoy time outdoors. She had kept to it even during her busy research days behind the microscope. This was no time to change it, not on a sunny, warm April Sunday, with the goldfinches chirping and the wild turkeys’ soft calls wafting into the room through the window.
Maggie wanted to check out the beaver dam again and invest-igate the mysterious handle, spurred by Amy, who had said it might be a case of illegal dumping. Maggie certainly wanted the water around the beaver dam to remain clean and was adamant about finding out what the object was.
The grass was turning green and seemed alive with robins hopping around in search of hidden insects. Bluebirds had also returned and were investigating the bird boxes she had set up on the shed wall. Her camera in hand and green hat pulled down to protect her fair skin, off she went into the woods.
The sweet smell of maple trees with their sap rising and the wild leek aroma filled the air. Chipmunks dashed under her feet with their tails up like antennae. She reached the dam, walking quietly, hoping to see the beaver, but this time no animal. Instead, Maggie saw half a snowmobile sticking out of the water. Amy was right.
As she carefully walked along the dam structure to get a closer look, she was startled by a deep “G’day” behind her, leading her to fall into the muddy embankment, one leg getting stuck. The silhouette of a tall man standing against the sun on the side of the road vanished in the wink of an eye. Feeling a tug on her leg she let out a shout.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you. You’re all right?”
Grasping the man’s green uniform with one hand to steady herself, holding her camera up with the other, her hat floating on the water, she peered through her hair at the soft blue eyes looking at her from above.
Embarrassed, she replied, “Yes, I’m fine, I didn’t hear you come…thanks for helping me out.”
“It’s my fault. I should’ve made more noise, but I was tracking poachers. The turkey hunting season has started, and this property is marked ‘no hunting,’ so I was inspecting it when I saw you move and thought you might have been one of them.”
At the thought of poachers on her land, Maggie opened her eyes wide. In response, he went on with a reassuring voice. “I was tipped off there might be poachers around, but they’re not after people, no danger there. It’s just that often they don’t have the licenses to hunt or they follow their prey from one land to another where hunting’s prohibited. My job’s to ensure rules are respected and animal cruelty avoided.”
Her eyes scanned the man head to toe, verifying the information provided, until they rested on the nameplate: “Adam Clarkson,” and below it the conservation officer’s badge. A real warden then. Regaining her composure and her footing, she stood at his side, his strong hand still firmly holding her by the arm and tugging at her to help her back onto firm ground.
Although she liked his approach, her pride made her wiggle out of his grip, and with a laugh she said, “You can let go now, otherwise we might both end up like this snowmobile in the water.”
With one leap, the man reached the side and turned around with his hand stretched out. Not wanting to offend him, she accepted it to shore and shook it with a chuckle.
“I’m Maggie, the owner of this property. Thanks for getting me out of the mud, or more accurately putting me in there in the first place.”
He blushed a little. “Adam, at your service…”
Feeling the moment was a little awkward, Maggie pointed toward the snowmobile, explaining that it wasn’t hers. “It must have slipped off the road onto the dam and into the water. Either dumped on purpose or an—”
As Adam looked at it closer, he finished her sentence, “—accident. It’s a top of the range skidoo, judging by the new handle shape. Surprising no one picked it up.”
“You seem to know a lot about those machines. Do you think you could help me pull it out? I can then contact the police if need be.”
Adam pointed toward the road. “My truck’s nearby. I’ll get it.”
Maggie put her thumb up in an approving gesture and looked around the area to see if she could find any other clue as to what had happened. Positioning herself on the dam between the snowmobile and the car, she steadied herself with a stick while stretching her hand out to Adam, who handed her the clip of the winch. With the snowmobile secured, she jumped up to the road to get a good vantage point of the muddy machine slowly sliding out of the water onto the road.
She wondered what might have happened; perhaps a joy rider had stolen it and wanted to get rid of it by driving it into the beaver pond. The seat was damaged, which could have happened upon impact or perhaps from ice over the winter.
“The license plate’s still on!” exclaimed Adam. “That’ll help to find the owner.”
Maggie inspected the only ski remaining and the stub where the other one should have been.
“Perhaps it got caught in the dam and the snowmobile could’ve then flipped over…the rider must’ve had a big fall then…but I don’t see any sign of that.”
Maggie automatically lifted her gaze and scanned the surface of the water with her binoculars, looking for the missing ski. She smiled at the sight of the beaver slapping its tail in warning and diving out of sight.
Having wiped the license plate clean, Adam walked around the machine and knelt next to the engine. Finding it hard to see over his shoulder what he was inspecting, Maggie offered to take pictures hoping to be of help. Seeing she would not get any answer from him, her mind wondered back to th
e beaver. She lifted her eyes and jumped up, tugging at Adam’s sleeve.
He sprang up from his crouched position, unfolding his long body as if the soil had been too hot to touch; his muscles seemed tense ready to pounce, like an animal, and he asked her while scanning the surroundings, “Did you see a poacher?”
“No, I don’t see anyone. We make far too much noise for them anyway…but look! There. To the right, a piece of red cloth against the beaver dam.”
Adam moved across to take a closer look, grabbing a long stick to reach the item in question. As he poked, a red and black mass floated up.
Maggie gasped as she saw what looked like an arm in a suit sticking out of a lumberjack jacket. “There’s a hand! It’s a body!”
Adam seemed to realize it at the same time and put his large hand in front of her eyes, shielding Maggie from the sight, only to be pushed aside. “Stay there, I’ve got to alert the police, don’t touch anything.”
Maggie stood motionless for a moment. The sight of the body in the water reminded her of the time Amy explained the advances in DNA analysis, allowing for the identification of highly degraded samples. Instead of triggering a feeling of disgust, the sad find spurred her scientific mind into action. She slipped on the working gloves she always carried with her to remove branches from the trails.
I won’t touch anything, but if I’m far enough away from the body, maybe I’ll find a clue…
She spotted a black lump at the far end of the dam. Only a few steps away from it, she saw it was a woollen hat.Let me see.She bent down slightly, lifted the hat out of the water with a stick and peered inside it. No label.
Hearing Adam call her name, she swiftly stood up, dropping the hat back into the water as if nothing had happened, tucking her hair behind her ear with one hand, the other throwing the stick away. She waved to him. “I’m here! Come and have a look.” She pointed at the hat.
“No, you come over here. It could be a crime scene. You can’t just walk around!”
“I thought I was far enough from the body.”
“Maybe you are, but just in case, it’s best to come next to me till the police arrive. I don’t want you to get in trouble with Humphries. He’ll turn up for sure. As soon as there’s something happening, he’s always the first on the scene. His constable, Raj Gupta, complains because he feels left behind, having to stay at the police station. I’d prefer Raj.”
“I guess in a place where little happens, he’d want to be there when there’s a sign of action, but why doesn’t he come with Raj?”
“Raj is smart, and Humphries hates being outsmarted, especially by someone he regards as a foreigner.”
“I didn’t think the sergeant was like that when I met him at the wedding. I’ve not met Raj. His name sounds Indian.”
“Yes, Raj arrived in Canada when he was little.”
“He sounds interesting.”
Adam laughed. “He’s funny with his sayings, especially when they irritate Humphries, who doesn’t understand what he’s talking about.”
“Seems harmless to me. No reason for Humphries to dislike him, really.”
“Raj’d better watch out, though. He’s too eager to please Humphries, because he’s ambitious and wants to move up the ranks quickly. Humphries hates that and thinks you should spend decades as a constable before becoming a sergeant like himself. I tried warning…”
Adam last words were drowned by the sound of a loud siren announcing the arrival of the black police car, and out came Sergeant Humphries, adjusting his belt under his belly.
“Another accident…ahh, snowmobilers driving way too fast! We need speed limit controllers on those machines.” Suddenly aware of Maggie standing next to his car, he raised his eyebrows. “And what are you doing here, ma’am? It’s not a place for wom—”
Clearly he didn’t recall meeting her before. Not a good attribute for a policeman. “You’re on my property. I’ve the right to be here to see what’s going on.”
“I see,” grumbled Sergeant Humphries, “but this is now an accident scene, so you have to stay away.” Ignoring Maggie’s attempt to respond, Sergeant Humphries pushed her away and addressed Adam. “What do we have? I see the skidoo. You mentioned a body…I don’t see any.”
Adam gestured toward the dam.
“Over there. If you stand on the beaver dam you can see it, where the red cloth is.”
The sergeant walked along the dam, lifting each foot as high as he could with each step. He stopped as if he were scared to go any farther, fearing a snake or other creature might be lurking among the branches. “Where exactly?”
Adam pointed toward it. In attempting to get a better view by tilting his head forward without walking farther on the ridge, the sergeant’s belly suddenly unbalanced him. He would have fallen into the water had it not been for Maggie, who was standing behind him and caught him by his jacket. Sergeant Humphries turned around, red-faced.
“I told you to stay away! Look you nearly pushed me in! Ah, women! Always in the way!” The sergeant walked back to his car, grumbling. “I need the constable to get the body out. Again an accident…”
Adam turned to Maggie and whispered in her ear, “He never does the dirty work…you’ll see, and don’t worry about him. He can be rough, but he’s not bad deep down.”
“I’m not easily bullied! He doesn’t even remember I met him before. Did you have time to see anything else on the snowmobile?”
“Nothing strange so far. The person must have skidded off the road. No tracks, though. The snow layer must’ve been already a couple of inches thick and the soil frozen, otherwise I would’ve been able to find something,” replied Adam in a low voice.
Maggie took several more pictures of the snowmobile from all angles, having noticed that the sergeant couldn’t see her, since he was busy speaking over the radio in his car. At the sound of the second police car arriving, Sergeant Humphries hailed Adam.
“You’d better take this lady back home. We’ll handle it from here. And Ms.…”
“Maggie Flanagan, Sergeant, we met at the wedding party.”
The sergeant rubbed his moustache downwards, without a glimmer of recognition.
“Yes, ehh…Ms. Flanagan…although it’s likely an accident, I need you to come to the station tomorrow for a statement. In the meantime, please let the police do their job.”
“Yes, Sergeant. Before I do, though, look, over there I saw a hat that might belong to the dead man…” The sergeant grumbled. Maggie added quickly, “I’ll get out of your hair…” She remembered the shiny scalp of the sergeant now hidden by his cap and added, “I’ll drop by in the afternoon.”
After Adam dropped her off, Maggie stood at her entrance door, still holding the piece of paper with Adam’s phone number. She wondered if she had dreamed it all. There was a body in her beaver pond. What had happened?
Chapter Six
The next afternoon, Maggie arrived at the police station situated on the outskirts of the village along the main road linking Foxton to Algonquin Park. A bag of freshly baked carrot muffins was tucked into her big handbag. She was determined to befriend Sergeant Humphries, appealing to his liking for food, even though he didn’t seem to have a good disposition toward women. Her choice of an afternoon visit rather than a morning one was driven by an article she recently stumbled upon. Judges gave out more favourable rulings after lunch than in the morning, with a correlation between hunger and a negative outcome.
Constable Raj Gupta greeted her cheerfully from behind the tall counter with a slight Indian accent. “How are you doing today?”
The constable smiled broadly at her, his arms outstretched, fingers spread out on the counter as if he needed a support for his body or wanted to fill the space with his presence.
Maggie replied, “Great, how about yourself?”
“Happy as a lark, with such a nice weather outside.”
Maggie smiled to herself, thinking of Adam’s remark about Raj’s sayings; she lowered her vo
ice as if she were sharing a secret. “I’m Maggie Flanagan, here to see Sergeant Humphries for the statement about the accident… Have you found out who it was?”
“Ah, you’re the landowner. You wouldn’t believe it… The snowmobile belonged to Peter Wigmott, and I’m sure it will be his body too.” Putting his hand on his mouth as if he had let a cat out of the bag, he added, “The boss doesn’t want to announce it yet.”
Maggie whispered, “Oh, I’ll keep quiet.”
Suddenly a loud voice echoed across the room from the end of a corridor. “Gupta, is the report ready yet? I want it on my desk within the next ten minutes.”
Constable Gupta stiffened and changed to an official tone. “Sorry, duty calls. I’ll let him know you are here. Please take a seat.”
Maggie heard a few muffled voices, followed by Constable Gupta reappearing and giving her a sign to follow him. She walked through the swinging doors along a narrow corridor to an office with a view of the woods. Sergeant Humphries was sitting in a reclining chair behind a large desk.
The sergeant looked grumpy, his moustache drooping downward as he welcomed her with, “Ah yes, you’ve come for the statement, eh. I don’t know if I should bother about it, really, but since you’re here we might as well take it.”
Maggie, surprised by his slackness and sensing his irritation, replied, “Yes, indeed, I’ve come for the statement, as you requested yesterday. How’re you doing?”
Ignoring her greeting, Sergeant Humphries carried on, “Constable Raj Gupta will take your statement after I’ve asked you a few questions. Right, eh, can you confirm you own the property along Lake View Road where the snowmobile accident happened?”
Maggie answered his questions with short responses. He seemed uninterested in details. She couldn’t help but notice the use of the word “accident” and was surprised that the case would have already been concluded unless they had all the evidence they needed. She wanted to go to the bottom of what had happened on her land, and noticing the sergeant’s questions were drying up, she concluded a direct approach would not work with him. Instead, she diverted the conversation to the wedding and the delicious meal they had had.
