Cold Mourning

by Brenda Chapman

  Kala didn’t have a good feeling. Susan was dressed for the outdoors. Was she meeting Pauline somewhere, or was she foolish enough to be going somewhere isolated alone? She tossed the map onto the passenger seat and put the truck into gear, making a three point turn and following several metres behind the van. Kala stayed back but close enough to see if Susan turned off onto a side road. She felt in her coat for her cell and hit the speed dial button to Rouleau’s phone. He answered on the second ring.

  “Susan’s on the move, dressed for the outdoors. We’re heading north on Eisenhower Crescent. Any ideas? Should I intercept her or just keep following?”

  “It might be an idea to see what she’s up to. She could be going to meet Pauline who lives further into Chapman Mills. Her place is not too far from Susan’s house, but far enough that she might drive. I’ve sent Bennett over to Pauline’s to see if she’s home. I’m waiting for him to check in.”

  “Oh wait, she’s making a right onto Cortleigh, heading east, so she’s not going to Pauline’s. She just drove past Davidson Park and I see a larger park up ahead on the right.”

  “Heart’s Desire Forest Park. I’ve brought up a map on my cellphone. Is she stopping?”

  “No. She drove right past.”

  “I’d bet money she’s heading to those nature trails.”

  “You could be right. She’s turning south on Woodroffe toward the Rideau River.”

  “There’re a couple of places along there to walk. I’ll start in that direction. Call me when you know her exact destination. Perhaps she’ll lead us to something interesting.”

  “Will do.”

  Kala dropped back. She’d been gaining on the van and didn’t want Susan to spot her. Traffic was light. She checked her mirrors to make sure Pauline wasn’t also on Susan’s tail. All looked clear.

  Five minutes later, Kala turned south on Woodroffe and followed it for a few minutes until she reached Prince of Wales. Susan was a few cars in front. They idled at a red light for several beats before it turned green. Susan pulled out slowly and headed north on Prince of Wales. Traffic was heavier and Kala was able to drop back and put more cars between them.

  A few kilometres further on, she spotted the red flash of Susan’s right turn signal and slowed the truck even more. Kala watched the van pull off the road into the wooded area called Chapman Mills Conservation Area. Kala put on her turn signal and pulled onto the shoulder not too close to the turn off so Susan wouldn’t notice her if she looked back toward the roadway. Susan’s van took the side road down an incline into a plowed parking lot.

  Kala called Rouleau again while taking off her seat belt. She shut down the engine and did a shoulder check, careful not to open her door into oncoming traffic. Two cars sped past doing over the speed limit. There was never a traffic cop around when you needed one.

  “She’s gone into the parking lot at Chapman Mills Conservation Area. I parked on the shoulder on Prince of Wales and am going in on foot.” Kala watched in her side mirror for a break in traffic.

  “I’m almost there. I can see your truck on the shoulder. Sit tight. I’ll do a U-turn and will park behind you.”

  “Okay.”

  Kala spotted Rouleau driving toward her less than a minute later. The minute felt like an hour. Her instincts told her not to wait, but she didn’t have any reason for this sense of urgency. Susan might just be on a nature walk by herself with no danger present. Pauline hadn’t followed her, of this Kala was certain.

  Rouleau made the turn and slid his car in behind her truck. Kala opened her door and stepped onto the snowy shoulder. She shivered and pulled up the hood of her jacket as cars sped by, blowing up gusts of snow.

  Rouleau walked toward her, his phone cupped next to his ear. He was dressed casually in a dark blue parka, jeans, and Sorels. He closed his phone and stopped next to her. “Pauline’s not at home. Her car’s not in the driveway.”

  “She might be at her daughter’s. It’ll be a shame if I got you out here for no reason. Pauline didn’t follow Susan here but she could already be in the parking lot.”

  “I told Bennett to keep checking for her. Shall we take a walk to see if Susan’s alone?”

  “Sure.”

  They trudged from the main road to the parking lot. It took a long five minutes. The lot had been recently plowed, but the snow had blown into drifts that were knee-deep outside the tire tracks.

  “Hard to believe the temperature fell so suddenly. I was thinking about getting my golf clubs out a few days ago,” said Rouleau.

  “Just Susan’s van over there. That’s a relief,” said Kala. She felt a drop in adrenaline. “I guess I really did get you out here for nothing.”

  Rouleau’s phone buzzed in his pocket. He looked around as he answered. He said a few words that Kala couldn’t hear and shut it again. “That was Bennett. Geraldine’s expecting her mother within the hour. They’re catching a plane to Florida for a two-week holiday.”

  “Geraldine and Pauline?”

  “And the baby. Geraldine told Bennett that they need a break from all that’s been going on.”

  “Understandable,” said Kala. Disappointment washed over her. She’d really believed she was onto something. She looked at Rouleau. “Are you heading out then? Likely there’s nothing to worry about here if Pauline is on her way to Florida. Will you be bringing her in for questioning?”

  “We haven’t enough evidence.”

  “I’ll just go have a look at Susan’s van before we go. I’ll get some lunch and then head back to her house for that interview. She should be home by then. Clinton looked to be away.”

  “I’ll come with you.”

  They trudged through the snow and circled the van. Kala squatted down next to the footprints. “Looks like she was alone. She headed that way toward the path.”

  Kala stood and began following the footprints. They were difficult to see in the crusty snow but no harder than tracking animals through the woods. Rouleau followed a few steps behind her. They reached the first line of trees. Kala searched the ground under a big pine. She crouched down for a better look, then looked up at Rouleau, not as relaxed as she’d been a moment before.

  “There’s two sets of footprints. I think she met someone and they went down the path into the woods together.” She pointed toward the river. “They have a good fifteen-minute head start. We should follow.”

  “Could the two of them have come in the same van?” Rouleau asked.

  “No, it was definitely just Susan in the van.”

  Rouleau looked back at the parking lot. “Then where’s the other vehicle?”

  “We’d better hurry,” said Kala. “That bad feeling has just come back.”

  Kala was jogging close behind Rouleau and nearly crashed into him when they rounded a curve in the path some twenty minutes into the woods. Rouleau reached back to steady her. He half-turned and looked at her with eyes that reminded her of hard green stones.

  He spoke quietly. “They’re up ahead talking. I’m not sure if it’s Pauline in white. What was Susan wearing?”

  “Red coat. Knee length.” Kala’s chest heaved as she tried to catch her breath.

  “Susan’s sitting on the bench. The other woman is standing. They might be strangers who met by chance. It looks like Pauline’s height and weight.”

  “How do you want to play this?”

  “We can pretend we’re just out for a walk.”

  “They won’t buy it.”

  Rouleau thought for a moment. “If it is Pauline, we don’t want to tip her off before we have some evidence that she killed Underwood. Let’s stick to the original plan and interview Susan alone. We can start back and hope they don’t catch up to us.”

  “You think Susan’s safe?”

  “Looks safe enough to me.” Rouleau watched the two women another moment “They’re just talking.” He turned and started walking back the way they’d come.

  Kala hesitated. Rouleau stopped and looked at her. “Comin
g?”

  “Yeah, I guess.” She took a step toward him, but a noise that sounded like a strangled scream made her turn and look back. She motioned to Rouleau to stop.

  “Susan’s fallen off the bench into the snow. Something’s wrong,” she said.

  He walked back and moved around her. “The other woman just kicked Susan.”

  Rouleau ran faster than she could have imagined and she was right behind him. Unfortunately, they couldn’t hide their approach. The woman in white looked up at them from where she was crouched, undoing Susan’s coat. Dark sunglasses hid her eyes but Kala recognized Pauline. Her lips were clasped tightly together, her face determined. She looked from them back down at Susan, bending to grab under her arms. Pauline’s back heaved with exertion as she pulled the dead weight backwards through the reeds bowed with ice. She was making slow progress closer to the river’s edge.

  “It’s too late,” Pauline screamed. “You’re too late.”

  Rouleau held out a hand. “Let us help you.”

  “Then help me pull this bitch onto the ice.” Pauline’s hysterical laughter travelled across the eerily frigid landscape to where they stood motionless. They were a hundred metres away and there was nowhere for Pauline to go. She wouldn’t be able to drag Susan far. Pauline gave another frantic pull at Susan’s arm and then straightened up and looked at them. She let Susan’s arm drop into the snow. She stared at them for a moment longer before turning in one swift movement and stomping through the reeds toward the river.

  “Stop!” yelled Kala, but she knew Pauline was past listening. She was picking up speed and running full tilt toward the deeper part of the river. As Kala watched, Pauline zigzagged around sections, trying frantically to find ice thick enough to bear her weight.

  Rouleau reached the river bank first and took tentative steps onto the ice before Kala reached him. She looked down at Susan lying awkwardly just above the frozen water line then across the white expanse of river to where Pauline was making her way. Rouleau kept calling for her to come back but had stopped following.

  Pauline turned and must have seen that nobody was coming after her. She slowed her pace, now testing her steps more tentatively on the ice. She wasn’t even a third of the way across.

  Kala shouted to Rouleau not to follow. It was too dangerous. He looked back at her, his face filled with indecision. She waved her arms for him to come back.

  Suddenly, a cracking noise filled the silence, carried by the wind back to where they stood. Rouleau turned back toward the river in time to hear Pauline scream, her arms flailing above her head, her legs slipping out from under her. She seemed to skid several feet before she disappeared into a gaping hole. Dark, jagged fissures in the ice snaked toward the shoreline. Rouleau took a step forward.

  “Don’t do it.” Kala yelled into the wind. “Pauline can’t be saved.” She knew it was true. Her last glance at the river had witnessed Pauline’s head disappearing into the darkness of the black hole. He wouldn’t have time to reach her even if the ice held his weight.

  Rouleau hesitated and Kala held her breath. She willed him back to shore. Rouleau’s shoulders dropped in defeat. He slowly turned and started back toward her. “She’s gone,” he said. He scrambled up the incline and squatted next to Susan, zipping up her coat. She writhed in the snow and moaned, her eyes still closed.

  “She’s been drugged. Let’s get her moving before she freezes and we lose both of them,” Rouleau looked up at Kala. The papery lines in his face were deeper than they’d been seconds before. He stood and pulled out his cellphone. He looked out across the river while he called for an ambulance and police backup.

  Together they grabbed Susan under the arms and started down the path the way they’d come, carrying her limp body between them. The path was barely wide enough for three and the going was awkward. Susan was a dead weight between them. Nearly half an hour later, they reached the opening to the parking lot. A siren wailed from somewhere close by.

  Kala looked over Susan’s head at Rouleau. “It’s better this way, Sir, for everyone. You couldn’t have saved her.”

  “Maybe.”

  “We had no way of knowing what she was planning,” Kala said. She felt a sudden urgency to convince him. “She had everyone fooled.”

  “Not everyone,” said Rouleau, meeting her eyes. “I should have trusted your judgement and moved sooner back on the path.”

  “It could easily have gone the other way.”

  “You were closer to the case than I was. You have good instincts and I should have remembered.”

  “And I should have pieced it together sooner. We did the best we could.”

  39

  Wednesday, February 29, 4:30. p.m.

  They met after work in the Royal Oak on Bank Street, another pub furnished in the British tradition. Grayson and Malik were already well into their first quart of beer when Kala and Whelan arrived. Kala took off her jacket and sat across from them while Whelan went to the bar to order their drinks. He returned a minute later, carrying a Guinness and a club soda. He lowered his bulk with a grunt in the seat next to Kala and slid her drink over to her.

  Malik raised his glass in her direction. “To our new colleague who broke the case. You’re a credit to the Ottawa Police force and to mankind in general.”

  “Here, here,” said Whelan.

  They clinked glasses and drank.

  “The paperwork and interviews made it almost not worth solving this thing,” said Kala. “You should have warned me.”

  “You’d have been better off if Pauline Underwood hadn’t drowned while you were trying to apprehend her. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be under the scrutiny her death has subjected you to,” said Malik. “Has it been rough?”

  “Rough enough. SIU has zero personality and they take themselves extremely seriously.”

  She looked at Grayson. He was hunched over his beer as if the amber liquid was keeping him warm. He met her eyes and lifted his glass in her direction. “Good work, Stonechild.”

  “Thanks.” He almost looked like he meant it. She glanced around the table. “Any word on how Pauline’s family is doing?”

  “Yeah, not every day your mother murders your father and then gets killed trying to kill her best friend,” said Whelan. “Might make you question your genetic pool.”

  “I know I’d think twice before having kids,” agreed Malik.

  “Geraldine Oliver put her house on the market yesterday,” Whelan commented. “She and her baby have moved in with the brother.”

  “Hunter?” asked Kala.

  “Yeah. Apparently she’s giving up the high life.” Malik pointed at Grayson. “Tell Kala about the big business deal her father’s company was working on.”

  “It fell through. While the murder investigation was going on, an American company offered the inventor Archambault a better deal and he went for it. From what I hear, J.P. Belliveau and company are in a great deal of financial trouble.”

  “It just doesn’t get any better for that family, does it?” said Kala.

  “Say, did anyone invite Rouleau?” asked Whelan, looking toward the door.

  “He’s working on something back at the office,” said Grayson. “He couldn’t make it.”

  “That’s a shame,” said Kala. She took a long drink from her glass, suddenly eager to get away. “I wanted to ask him something.”

  An hour later, she knocked lightly on Rouleau’s office door and stepped inside. He was reading a typed page that he turned over before motioning her to take a seat.

  “I thought you’d be celebrating,” he said with a smile. “It’s been a rough few days with SIU studying us from all angles.” His green eyes were tired, his face pasty in the fluorescent lighting. She wondered if he’d eaten. SIU had been harder on him than her, and she was drained, not sleeping well and forgetting to eat.

  “Grayson said you were still here and I wanted to talk to you about Susan Halliday. Clinton is abusing her, I’m sure of it.”

&
nbsp; “And what do you propose we do?”

  “I know a woman has to make the decision to leave an abusive partner, but couldn’t I go visit her and let her know about the support that’s available?”

  “It would be a tricky conversation.”

  “I just don’t think I can ignore what I see in front of me.”

  Rouleau considered her words. “As investigators, we enter into peoples’ lives and find out things about them that would never come to light otherwise. We have to learn tunnel vision. People are entitled to their privacy unless it has an impact on the case at hand. That said, I’m certain you’ll find a way to see her even if I say not to.” His eyes held hers. “It wouldn’t hurt to make her aware of her options, but tread carefully. Is she still in the hospital?”

  “She went home yesterday.”

  “Take Bennett. He can amuse the husband while you chat with her. Tell Clinton you’re there as follow up to the murder investigation.”

  “Thank you, Sir.”

  “You know, life and relationships are never the tidy packages we’d like them to be. Sometimes, they don’t end well no matter our best efforts. People can disappoint.”

  “I know.” She paused not sure if he expected more from her. Her eyes lighted on a card with a picture of a French café at the edge of his desk. “Is this a postcard from Paris?” she asked. “May I?” He nodded and she picked it up. “I’ve always wanted to go overseas.” She kept the photo side up, careful not to turn it over to read the message.

  “It’s from my ex, Frances. She and her husband are having a wonderful time. They’re heading to Italy at the end of the month.”

  “What a great trip.” She raised her eyes and studied Rouleau. He’d shifted his chair so that he was looking out the window. Darkness had fallen between the time she’d left the pub and entered his office. A soft snow was feathering the pane. When he turned back toward her, the curve of his mouth had lightened. He leaned across the desk and took the postcard from her.