Corpse Flower: A Cornwall and Redfern Mystery

by Gloria Ferris

  I released his arm, but, just as he tasted freedom, I asked, “Oh, I do hope you were able to get the pieces of skunk and the smell off your lovely leather seats.”

  He made an involuntary gagging sound, then caught himself and swallowed.

  “Well, not quite. I’m still working on it. The clerk at Canadian Tire sold me a bottle of solution he guarantees will make the leather smell and look as good as new.”

  “Hope that works for you. Personally, Chesley, I had to throw out my leather jacket and my cousin needs to buy a new couch.”

  Chesley’s eyes popped a bit more. “Your cousin?”

  “Yes, my cousin Dougal. He was on the back of my bike when you ran over the skunk. We got the stuff all over us, too.”

  “I’m truly sorry you were involved, Miss, er, Bliss.”

  “Well, no lasting harm done, Chesley. But why were you following me from that address in Arlington Woods?”

  “Following you? I wasn’t following you, Bliss. Why would I be following you?”

  “I don’t know, Chesley, but you pulled out behind me from the wooded area and nearly blinded me with your headlights.”

  “Ah, I was just re-setting my GPS. As I said, we’re trying to familiarize ourselves with Lockport and I was cruising that section of town to see if any properties are for sale.”

  I know a liar when I hear one. But, I still had to drop off pictures at Dougal’s, so I let Chesley off the hook for the moment.

  “Give your mother my best regards, and tell her I hope we’ll meet again before you leave town,” I told him.

  Chesley made a dash for the stairs. The rubber soles of his white Nikes squeaked on the wooden steps, and my leather boots clattered close on his heels. At the bottom, he didn’t wait for further pleasantries, just ran for the Beetle parked in front of the building. I noticed every window was opened wide on the convertible.

  Performing an expert U-turn in front of the police station, Chesley headed north in the direction of the Super 8 Motel.

  “Well, good night, Bliss. See you on Thursday,” Garnet called to me as she locked the street-level door to her studio. She sped down the sidewalk, her short blond curls glowing under the streetlights like the head of a marigold on a slender stalk.

  It was another mild night and I left my face shield up to allow the silky air to enfold my face as I made the short drive through peaceful streets.

  The peace only lasted until I walked through Dougal’s front door.

  “Where the hell have you been? I’ve been calling you for hours and you didn’t pick up. This is a critical stage and we need to be in constant communication. Well?”

  “I left my phone in the bike, I guess. Here you go.” I pushed the camera into his hands and ran to the kitchen. “I’m starving. I don’t know when I last ate, so get out of my way. Oh, and I got fired today.”

  “If you’d get a phone with a camera feature, you could email me the pictures.” Dougal fiddled with the camera as he followed me.

  “If I had a pig with wings, I’d be rich. Then I could buy myself a brand new Smartphone. And I got fired today.”

  Dougal was panning through the latest pictures. “Didn’t you take any of the interior of the spathe? Oh, here they are. Did you smell anything when you had your head in there?”

  “I didn’t stick my head in. You said not to touch the plant, so I just aimed the camera inside and hoped for the best. I got fired today.”

  I had been pulling out various covered bowls and plastic containers. One looked like mashed potatoes with gravy, so I nuked that first after spooning it into a glass bowl from the cupboard. No sense ingesting all those toxins from the plastic. Figuring I had to be dehydrated too, I poured myself a glass of water from the reverse osmosis tap.

  “Everything looks like it’s coming along on schedule. Did you see any signs of collapse, either at the top of the spadix or at the spathe level?”

  “What you see in the pictures is the status at about six o’clock this evening.” My stomach must have shrunk. After swirling the gravy into the potatoes and eating it with a tablespoon, and downing a second glass of water, I wasn’t sure I could manage the chicken breast revolving inside the microwave.

  Dougal jumped up as the timer went off. Sticking a fork into the chicken, he handed it to me, and said, “Come with me. I need to see through your eyes.”

  He hauled me to the sun room while I nibbled on the chicken.

  “Now, look at Thor. Look hard. How does he compare with Sif? Take your time, but, for instance, is he as tall? Does Thor’s spathe grow up the spadix as tightly, or does Sif’s spathe look a little looser and can you see the red colour inside?”

  “Okay. As near as I can tell, they look about the same height, although Sif’s spathe looks a little frillier at the top and is starting to curl outward. And, yes, as you can see by the pictures, the inside is a rich burgundy colour. By the way, I got fired from the library today.”

  Simon was sitting on the top perch outside his cage and had been mercifully silent. Now he decided to join in the conversation, if you call clucking like a broody hen conversation.

  Dougal looked over at Simon and said, fondly, “That’s enough, buddy. Maybe if you ask nicely, Bliss will share her chicken with you.”

  “Bliss bloody well won’t,” I replied and moved a few feet farther away from the perch.

  “Aw, come on, darlin’, take one for the team,” begged the bird in Dougal’s wheedling tones.

  Dougal reached over and broke off a piece of chicken and handed the morsel to Simon.

  “Does Simon know he’s eating poultry, effectively committing cannibalism?” I asked.

  “Simon isn’t poultry. Now, can you pay attention here?”

  “I never knew it could be like this,” Simon said in a female voice. It sounded familiar, probably Melanie again. I glared at Dougal, but since he was such a self-absorbed snot, he didn’t notice. At least the parrot wasn’t yelling about pot.

  I took a closer look at Dougal. “Hey, what happened to you? You look, uh, not bad today.”

  Actually, he looked better than I had seen him in over a year. His hair was expertly buzzed, without the dips and rises I left when I used the manual clippers on him. And he had doffed his usual baggy shorts and stretched tee-shirt for pressed trousers and a short-sleeved red shirt. He still wore sandals, but his feet were …

  “Did you get a pedicure? Dougal, you’ve been out!”

  “Calm down, will you. I finally found a hairdresser in town who would send someone in to cut my hair. She also gave me a pedicure and manicure.” He stretched out his hands and I could see that someone had filed and buffed the nails.

  “That’s wonderful. You’re really coming along.”

  “Yeah, I’m doing great,” he said modestly. “Pretty soon, you won’t need to run my errands or pick up my food for me. Although, I’ll still need someone to weed my gardens and cut the grass. And take the trash to the curb.”

  “You honour me.” It looked like the pittance I earned from Dougal would soon be a half-pittance. Well, things were changing fast and I had better be ready to make the most of the emerging opportunities. I made a mental note to find a nice park and stake out my bench for the winter.

  Dougal assumed his lecturing stance, or, as I liked to put it, went into snore mode. “From these latest pictures, I now believe that Thor and Sif will flower within an hour or two of each other, with Sif perhaps slightly ahead. This couldn’t be better. The female flowers mature first and about twenty-four hours later the male flowers produce pollen. I’ll gather Thor’s pollen and Glory will do the same for Sif’s.” Dougal put out his hand as though to touch his palm to Thor, but stopped short of making actual contact. “I’m going to be videotaping it all on a time sequence. Are you getting this, Bliss?”

  I nodded, although it was beginning to sound more like a porn movie than a botanical experiment.

  “Let me recap. The female parts of both plants will flower within a f
ew hours of each other. We wait approximately twenty-four hours for the male flowers to produce pollen. You will stand ready to take Thor’s pollen to Sif, where Glory will immediately pollinate Sif’s female flowers. You will return here with Sif’s pollen, and I will manually pollinate Thor’s female flowers. Hopefully, the female flowers of both plants will still be receptive, keeping in mind that they have been ripe for twenty-four hours. Got that, Bliss? Do you understand how crucial it is for you to be on standby and deliver Thor’s pollen to Glory, then Sif’s here to me?”

  “Yeah, crucial. Standby. Got it.” In truth, Dougal lost me way early in his lecture, but my role seemed to be limited to making a few trips between the plants to deliver pollen. And someone would no doubt tell me which way to go first, so there was no need for me to get overly involved in the science.

  “Okay, you can leave now. I’m having company, so take your shabby underwear out of my dryer and whatever food you haven’t eaten, and go.” Dougal shooed me out of the room.

  “Your other plants look ready to pollinate too, Dougal. Don’t you have to do something with them, like get them the hell out of the house? I’m telling you, the police are very interested in marijuana these days.”

  “It’s ready to cut and dry. I’m doing much better now, with the therapy, and a Valium now and then to take the edge off. I think this will be my last harvest.”

  “Glad to hear that,” I said, relieved he was coming to his senses. “Why don’t you just get rid of it now?”

  “What am I supposed to do with it? If I burn it in the backyard, the whole neighbourhood will be high. And I can’t exactly put an ad in the paper: Mature Cannabis Plants for Sale. This crop will last me a few years, and by then, who knows, it might be legal to grow your own.”

  “I thought you said you weren’t going to smoke the stuff anymore.”

  “When did I say that? I’ll still smoke once in a while on social occasions. What do you think people do when they have a party?”

  “Uh, eat, drink, talk?”

  “You are quite the little innocent, aren’t you? What did you do at university when everyone else was stoned?” Dougal was shoving items from the fridge and cupboard into a plastic bag and glancing at his watch every few seconds.

  “Worked in my spare time to help the Weasel through law school,” I replied, thinking I could remember every party we attended at university, there were so few of them.

  “Well, that worked out well, didn’t it? You would have been better off having a little more fun.” He shoved the bag and a bottle of water into my hands. “Here, drink this. You’re looking a little dry around the edges. Got your underwear? Good. See you bright and early in the morning. Don’t be late again.”

  I sniffed my armpit.

  “What are you doing that for?” Dougal backed away quickly.

  “I can’t remember when I had a shower last. I have to use your bathroom before I go.”

  “Oh, no you don’t. You’ll just have to smell yourself until tomorrow. Company’s coming, and I have a few preparations to make.”

  “Like lighting some candles and uncorking the wine? Or maybe rolling a few?”

  “None of your business.” He shut the door on me, an affront I was growing used to.

  I did consider, once again, hanging around to catch Melanie in the act, at least see what she looked like. But something Dougal had said about the parties at university triggered the ghost of a memory. It was a long shot after so many years, but suddenly I was in a hurry to get back to the trailer, my fear of Hemp Hollow’s threatening shadows forgotten for the moment.

  Maybe, just maybe, I had a spare ace up my blackmailing sleeve.

  Chapter

  SEVENTEEN

  I noticed the stench first. My preoccupation nearly caused me to miss the low growling, but even had I been in a coma my nose would have detected the fetid reek emanating from the forest behind me.

  Hugging my bag of food close to my chest, I turned my neck and saw the unblinking green eyes cutting through the black night. A snarl preceded another wave of wild animal scent. Bear!

  My feet flew between the trailers and around to my stoop. I was certain I heard the bear crashing through the underbrush, snapping at my heels. This time the key found its mark at first try. Lucky, since I wouldn’t have had a second chance. As soon as I slammed the door shut and shot the bolt, a heavy thud sounded against the trailer wall, followed by a menacing growl. Starving bears were known to move down the Bruce Peninsula this far south in search of food, and I had heard stories of bears actually tearing doors right off their hinges.

  The skin on my neck tightened as I waited for another assault on my aluminum door. I should have my bat, I thought, but the logical part of my mind knew a bat was no protection against a bear. I ran to my bedroom to get it anyway, stealing a peek out the tiny window. Nothing.

  The bat under my arm, I pulled out my cell to call 911. I punched the 9 and the first 1, and stopped. The police would come around in response to my call. They would look for a bear, which they may or may not find. But the police might notice something suspicious around the Quigley trailer. When Ewan and Snake were released on bail, they would be really angry.

  Bear or Ewan and Snake? The choice could kill me. I closed my BlackBerry and sat on the floor in the dark, my ear pressed against the door. It may have been hours, it may have been ten minutes, but I heard no further rumbling, and nothing clawed at the door from the other side.

  I was still holding my plastic bag. Knowing bears could smell food from miles away, I got up and stowed the bag in the fridge. I called Rae’s number, but there was no answer. I left a message warning her about the bear.

  I really, really hated nature. I could hardly wait to move back to town where sidewalks and pruned bushes discouraged wild animals, and the worst thing you could meet in the dark was a Doberman on a leash or your neighbour mooning you in the backyard. I’d take a bare ass over a wild bear any day.

  Even though I had to pee, I didn’t dare go outside and climb the hill to the recreation building. A full bladder and terror are not conducive to restful sleep, but exhaustion finally claimed me and Morpheus held me in a steely grip until a pain in my abdomen woke me at first light.

  The pain was my bladder about to let go. Frantically, I tried to think of something to use as a receptacle. Pulling open the only cupboard in the trailer, I surveyed the possibilities. One small pot and one plastic bowl. Not enough, even combined.

  Unlocking the door, I stuck my head out and sniffed. Cooking odours drifted from the Quigley trailer. Vanilla and some other unfamiliar seasoning. No musty bear odour.

  Bat in hand, I scurried around back and sought out a suitable spot. Not that I had time to be fussy, but I needed privacy. Finding a clump of low-growing wild junipers, I climbed into the middle and hunkered down to business.

  Junipers have short, scratchy needles, and the dried leaves I was forced to use in lieu of two-ply were going to leave serious scars. Just as I pulled up my undies, which were beginning to resemble a shredded thong, I heard crackling nearby. Something was shuffling through the deep blanket of pine needles that carpeted the forest floor. And it was coming my way.

  I squatted down again and my fingers found the bat. Dragging it behind, I crawled deeper into the junipers. I couldn’t smell the bear, but if it was out there it would be able to smell me. It was too late to run.

  The shuffling became louder and closer and, just as I imagined the pain of thick, sharp claws closing on the skin of my neck, someone spoke.

  The voice was no farther than five or six feet from my juniper cave. I scrunched up in a ball and tried not to whimper.

  “You shouldn’t be here, man. It’s too close to ground zero. We could meet somewhere tonight.” The voice was low and gravelly.

  Oh boy. Snake. I could only pray that my red tee-shirt didn’t show through the branches of the junipers. I pulled the back of the shirt down over my rump.

  “I parked on the co
ncession road and walked in. I know it’s dangerous, but you need to know what’s happening in town.”

  I clapped my hand over my mouth to thwart the cry of surprise that almost leapt from my throat. It couldn’t be …

  “I’ll walk back to the road with you. It’s almost sunrise and Miss Bliss, for one, is up pretty early.” Snake sniggered.

  Chief Redfern laughed right along with his friend. “We’ll be lucky if she doesn’t screw up the whole deal. She hasn’t mentioned you, which makes me suspicious. Any other woman would run screaming to the cops about the big, bad biker in the woods, but not her. I think …”

  The words faded out and I lay shaking on the damp ground under my green canopy. Redfern was crooked. Who would better know the intricacies of the drug trade than a former drug cop from Toronto? Maybe the years of watching endless amounts of illegal money flow around him, combined with the unexpected death of his wife, made him cynical, and he had turned into one of the bad guys. Thank God I hadn’t confided in him about my fear of Ewan and Snake.

  I remembered the bear and shot up out of the junipers. Ignoring my bare feet, I ran back to my trailer where I pulled on my overalls and started stuffing a change of clothes and some toiletries into a plastic bag. I locked the trailer behind me and fled to the clearing where my Savage waited. Barely taking the time to buckle on my helmet, I pushed the bag and my leather jacket into the saddlebag and sped away from Hemp Hollow.

  Chapter

  EIGHTEEN

  Pan took a step back when he opened the door. He didn’t exactly hold his nose, but he didn’t take any deep breaths either. It wasn’t my fault I smelled bad. After the Night of the Bear and the Dawn of the Crooked Cop, I was lucky I wasn’t followed to Glory’s by a pack of dogs.

  “It’s pretty early, Bliss.”

  “I know what time it is, Pan. There’s a bear living behind my place, and I wanted to get away while it was still sleeping.”

  “A bear?” Pan didn’t look convinced. “I don’t think so. I haven’t heard any reports of bears being spotted anywhere near town.”