by Garry Ryan
Harper glanced at his partner, then said, “We’re looking for information on a lawyer called Tommy Pham.”
“I know Tommy,” Steve said.
“Here’s your coffee.” Bryan’s bonhomie had evaporated. Steve took a sip, “Good stuff.”
“Can you help us?” Harper asked.
Steve said, “Man, you’re putting me in a tough spot.
We’re cops, but this is one hell of a favour. The guy you’re looking for put me and my sister through school. Got my mom started in her business.”
Harper waited.
Lane watched as Steve looked around the shop, checking out the clientele one by one.
“You don’t understand,” Steve said.
“Look, forget we asked. Enjoy your coffee. You and Harper have got some catching up to do. I’ve got a call to make.” Lane got up and left the table. He went to the back of the shop, pulled out his phone, and dialed. “Arthur?”
“Yes,” Arthur said.
“Just wanted to talk for a couple of minutes.” Lane watched Bryan, who kept an eye on all of the patrons except for Steve.
Steve avoided eye contact with Bryan.
“Martha made an appointment with a hairdresser to see what can be done in the way of damage control,”
Arthur said.
“How about you?” Lane watched Steve take a sip of coffee, get up, and shake hands with Harper.
“I’m fine. I don’t think the nose is broken, but it looks like I’ll have two black eyes,” Arthur said.
“Go see Dr. Keeler just in case.” Lane watched Steve leave. Harper looked at Lane and shrugged.
“Got an appointment before lunch,” Arthur said.
“Good. Looks like today might be a long one,”
Lane said.
“Bye,” Arthur said.
Lane walked back to the table and sat down to try another taste of cinnamon bun. “What the hell happened there?”
Harper said, “Beats me. Steve froze up like a lake in winter. It was totally out of character. I mean the guy usually talks my ear off. Man, I’m sorry.”
Lane looked over his shoulder. Bryan was behind the counter. The hissing steam of the expresso machine filled the shop. “Don’t be. Let’s drop in on Charles’ sister, Denise. You haven’t met her yet. She seems to know Bobbie really well. Maybe she knows something about Cole’s disappearance. Then we’ll go for lunch at the Lucky Elephant.”
It took fifteen minutes to reach the apartment across from Buckmaster Park. The sun was just up. It warmed their faces as they walked across the street, went downstairs, and knocked on Denise’s door.
She opened it after a minute. Denise had a cup of coffee in her right hand. Her left went to close the neck of her white blouse. “It’s cold. Come on in.” She backed up.
Lane thought Denise looked older than the last time they had met. The circles under her eyes were darker. Lane noticed the belt holding up her slacks was cinched two stops past the line worn in black leather.
The detectives crowded into the tiny apartment.
“Want a coffee?” Denise asked.
“No thank you. Just a couple of questions,” Lane said.
Denise leaned up against the frame of the kitchen doorway. “Want to look around?”
“Sure.” Harper stepped past her and into the bedroom. “You must want to know where Cole is. I wish I knew. He’s a good kid. Never said much, but he was always a kind kid,” Denise said.
“Was?” Lane asked.
“What do you think the chances are?” Denise’s voice was all at once resigned and bereft.
“Actually, I wanted to know if you’ve ever met Jay Krocker,” Lane said.
“Bobbie’s brother, Jay?” Denise asked.
“Yes,” Lane said.
“Only ever saw him at the kids’ birthday parties. Usually up until the point his sister said something nasty and he left.” Denise watched Harper as he moved into the living room.
Lane waited.
Harper looked at Lane and shook his head to indicate there was no one else in the apartment.
“Jay was a nice kid. Real short attention span.
Maybe that’s why Cole and Kaylie always hung off of him. When he was around, Cole would talk nonstop whenever Bobbie left the room. Jay sure had a knack for bringin’ Cole out of his shell. Kaylie adored him too. Charles wished Jay would come around more often,” Denise said.
“We’d like to talk with Jay,” Lane said.
“No idea where he lives. Bobbie had no idea either.
She used to interrogate him about it every time they met. But he never would tell her where he lived,”
Denise said.
“Have you got any idea where Cole might be?”
Lane asked.
Denise said, “Been up all night thinking about it.
Just hope he doesn’t turn up like his sister and father.” She shuddered and her head dropped. Denise leaned away from the door frame and stood straight. “I’ve got to get to work. As you can see, unfortunately, Cole’s not here.”
They killed two hours checking over details downtown. At 11:15 AM they walked to Chinatown and found The Lucky Elephant Restaurant. It was about a block from the river and just across the street from the red-bricked federal building. The sun was bright. Lane and Harper passed a few people who were wearing shorts and T-shirts. The joggers headed down the sidewalk toward the trails along the river.
A bell sounded as they opened the door of The Lucky Elephant Restaurant. They stepped inside and looked around. Four tables were filled with office workers who’d decided on an early lunch.
In the corner, a white-haired man waved to them. He sat with his back to the wall. He stood. He wore a red golf shirt and black jeans.
Lane noted the man’s table offered him the best vantage point in the room.
Lane and Harper approached and stopped across the table from the white-haired man. He offered his hand first to Lane, “Mr. Lane and Mr. Harper, I’m Lam Tran. Most people call me Uncle Tran.” After shaking Harper’s hand, Uncle Tran said, “Please sit.”
Harper looked at Lane. The older detective raised his eyebrows and thought, Just go with it.
Lane noted Uncle Tran had an accent, but his English was very good. Instinctively, Lane knew he was sizing up an extremely intelligent man. Lane pulled out a chair and said, “News certainly travels fast.”
“Canadian cities are still quite small by Asian standards. News certainly does travel fast,” Uncle Tran said.
A waiter arrived, set down two menus and poured water for Uncle Tran, Lane, and Harper.
“Today, I’d suggest the curried beef with mixed vegetables,” Uncle Tran said.
“Sounds very nice,” Lane said.
Harper studied the menu. “Me too.”
“We’ve been told you’re a saint,” Lane took a sip of water.
“An exaggeration,” Uncle Tran smiled.
Lane had made a point of sitting across from Uncle Tran so he could watch the man’s eyes. “I’m impressed with the way you knew us even before we introduced ourselves.”
Uncle Tran looked directly back at Lane.
“Wherever you are, it helps to have friends.”
Lane thought, It was probably Steve who let Tran know we were looking for him. I wonder if Harper knows.
Harper smiled, “We would like to get in touch with Jay Krocker.”
“You get right to the point. It’s the best approach. I will pass on a message to him if you wish,” Uncle Tran said.
Lane thought, Think carefully about this.
The waiter arrived with three plates and a large red plastic container of steamed rice.
Uncle Tran picked up his chopsticks, chose a piece of beef and dipped it into the curry sauce. He put the morsel in his mouth and closed his eyes with pleasure.
“That was quick service.” Harper tried to pick up the chopsticks, then put them down and reached for a fork.
Lane used chopsticks to selec
t a morsel of red pepper along with a piece of beef and put them in his mouth. The curry was sweet and hot, the beef tender, and the pepper crisp. He had never tasted curry like this in his life. He chewed and said, “Magnificent.”
Uncle Tran smiled, “It is quite delicious. Hard to get a curry dish this wonderful in the west.”
Harper coughed. Lane and Uncle Tran looked at him. Harper’s face was red. He reached for a glass of water.
“Wait.” Uncle Tran reached for the rice and spooned some onto Harper’s plate. “Eat some rice. It will ease the discomfort.”
Harper shoveled steamed rice into his mouth. His face turned pink. “Thanks. Man, that’s hot!”
“You may wish for something milder,” Uncle Tran said.
“Maybe,” Harper said.
Uncle Tran motioned for the waiter. “You like chicken?”
“Yes,” Harper said.
Uncle Tran said, “Number 53,” to the waiter, and then to Harper, “I apologize.”
Harper took a gulp of water, swallowed, then sucked some ice into his mouth. Tears ran down his cheeks.
Lane smiled and ate another mouthful of vegetables and beef. It’s really wonderful, he thought. Sweat broke out on his forehead. His nose began to run.
“We’d like to meet Jay face to face,” Harper said.
“Is he to be charged with a crime?” Uncle Tran chewed thoughtfully.
He isn’t sweating at all, Lane thought. “We have questions related to a murder investigation.”
“Is Jay accused of murder?” Uncle Tran looked right at Lane.
“No, but he may be able to help us solve one,” Lane said.
Uncle Tran scooped some rice into the curry sauce at the edge of his plate. “This Jay is a good boy. He protected my nephew, Tony, when their boss was being a bully. Jay went back to help my niece, Rosie, when everyone else ran away. You know this also. I will pass on your message to Jay, but whether or not he will meet you face to face, this is his decision.”
Lane took his card out and slid it across the table to Uncle Tran. “It is important he gets in touch with us.”
“I understand,” Uncle Tran said.
Harper took the call as they walked along Seventh Avenue. The C-Train rumbled by. He had to cup his left hand over his ear to hear the caller. “Hello.”
“The DNA canine results are in.” The voice was deep and utterly toneless.
“Who is this?” Harper asked.
“Colin Weaver. You requested a match on the canine hairs found on the child’s clothing—one Kaylie Reddie, deceased—with the samples from the dog from Dr. Ellen Dent’s office.”
“That’s right.” Harper looked at Lane and mouthed the words, “Doctor Fibre.”
The C-Train moved on. Harper was able to remove his hand from his ear.
Weaver said, “Dr. Ellen Dent was correct. The samples are a match. They come from the same animal. I’ll forward a copy of the report to you.”
“Thanks,” Harper said.
Weaver muttered something unintelligible, and the line went dead.
Harper said, “Dr. Dent’s dog and the samples from Kaylie’s clothes are a match.”
Lane said, “Good, we’re finally getting somewhere.”
BOBBIE: Good afternoon. It’s Bobbie on the ride home. This is a personal appeal to my listeners. Please look at the pictures of my son in the newspapers and on TV. I warned the police this might happen. Now, I’m relying on you to find my only surviving child. I’m hoping to find a way to raise a reward for my son’s safe return. The police say they are looking for my son. I choose to put my son’s life in your hands.
Lane was waiting in traffic at the lights when the phone rang.
“Lane?”
Lane recognized the voice, “Chief.”
“One question. At any time during the investigation did Bobbie Reddie warn you of a danger to her son?”
“No, but other witnesses warned us that Bobbie was a danger to her child.” Lane turned right onto Glenmore Trail.
“Any leads on the child?” the chief asked.
“One,” Lane said.
“Keep on it.”
“We will,” Lane said.
The Chief of Police hung up.
It was 5:30 PM when the knock came on Jay’s door. He was sitting in the chair by the window.
The knock came again. “Jay? Come on. It’s me, Rosie. Tony’s here too.”
Jay got up and walked to the door. He looked over his shoulder then put his hand on the doorknob.
“Jay? We’ve got a message from Uncle Tran,” Rosie said.
“Not now.” Jay pulled his hand away from the door.
“Look, Jay,” Rosie’s voice was lower, just loud enough to be heard through the door. “I spoke to the landlady. She told me a story. She says you brought a child to your apartment. You want me to blab it all over? I mean the landlady only speaks Vietnamese, but her eyes are good. I speak English and Vietnamese, so I can blab the story to almost anyone in town. The thing is, even I’m not as nosy as the landlady. Maybe you’d like her to come around and ask the questions?”
Jay opened the door.
Rosie noticed he was wearing black sweats and a blue T-shirt.
“Come in,” Jay said.
Rosie walked in, followed by Tony.
Jay closed the door.
They stood there looking at the child asleep on the couch.
Tony said, “Shit! Man, that kid’s face is everywhere.” Rosie turned to Jay. “Explain.”
“He’s my nephew. I went to his school and waited ’til he came out at lunch time. Then I brought him back here.” Jay rubbed his eyes.
“Sit down,” Rosie said.
Jay sat in the chair across from the couch.
In the silence, they heard Cole’s gentle breathing.
“My sister killed Kaylie. Then she killed Cole’s dad. Cole saw most of it. He was talking in his sleep last night and most of it came out. No wonder he’s afraid to sleep. He thinks his mom will come for him and put him in the trunk of her car like she did Kaylie. He’s terrified at night. I can’t get any sleep, because he wakes up screaming. He’ll only sleep when the sun’s up and only if I promise to stay awake while he sleeps. We can’t leave the apartment, because someone will recognize him. We’re trapped.” Jay leaned back in the chair and stared at the ceiling. “I haven’t slept since we came here.”
Rosie sat down on the couch by Cole’s feet.
Tony sat on the floor with his back to the wall.
“Man, you should’ve called us.”
“I didn’t know what to do,” Jay said.
“Get Jay something to drink,” Rosie said to Tony.
When the fridge door opened, Rosie said, “The landlady’s not a problem. She just saw you bring a boy in here. I asked her to keep quiet. Eventually, someone else will spot Cole. It’s only a matter of time before the police come to your door. Besides, there’s another problem. Uncle Tran.” She rubbed Cole’s feet and smiled.
“He’s mad at me?” Jay asked.
“No, he’s living here illegally. If you get caught and the police find out he’s not a Canadian citizen, he’ll be deported,” Rosie said.
“No way,” Jay said.
Tony handed Jay a glass of water. “When Uncle Tran stepped off the airplane, he came to Chinatown, and stayed. He didn’t stop at customs and immigration.”
Jay took a sip of water. I need some sleep, he thought.
Tony said, “Get some sleep. Rosie and I will keep an eye on Cole.”
“I don’t know what he’ll do when he wakes. He doesn’t know you.” Jay closed his eyes for a few seconds. It was hard for him to open them again.
“We’ll take good care of him,” Rosie said.
Thursday, October 29
Chapter 21
“WHY AREN’T WE looking for Cole?” Harper asked.
Lane drove in the middle lane of the freeway. The tires hummed on the grooved surface. “His face is everywhe
re. Bobbie’s putting together a reward. If he’s alive, he’ll turn up. Tommy Pham’s phoning us before noon. That gives us time to cruise by Idaho Metals so we can tie up this loose end.”
“I’m not sure,” Harper said as they passed a van on their right. The driver was singing. He looked over at Harper and smiled.
“I’m not sure either, that’s why we’re going. We weren’t sure about that vet Dr. Dent, and she’s looking like an impeccable but quirky source. Remember how nervous junkyard Joan was?”
“I remember. It’s just . . .” Harper said.
“What?”
“Bobbie’s actions seem so illogical.”
“You’re right, it’s not about logic. It’s beginning to look like it’s all about ego. If you accept the premise that each of these murders is motivated by ego, then it begins to appear that each murder has some logic behind it.” Lane eased off the freeway.
Jay woke at eight-thirty in the morning. Someone had
covered him with a blanket. Sunlight streamed in through the curtains. Tony was snoring on the couch.
Jay got up. He heard water running in the bathroom and walked down the hall. He inhaled the sneezy scent of hair-salon products.
Rosie said, “We’ll get you some new clothes. When Jay gets up, he’ll make you breakfast.”
“Are you Uncle Jay’s girlfriend?” Cole asked.
“I think we’d have to kiss first.” Rosie’s tone told Cole any question was reasonable. “Let’s dry your hair and see what it looks like.”
“Okay,” Cole said.
Jay peeked in the door. “Wow,” he said.
Rosie and Cole’s reflections were framed in the mirror. Rosie rubbed Cole’s head with a towel. His hair was red and cut within a centimetre of the scalp. “Rosie’s gonna buy me some new clothes,” Cole said.
“Well?” Rosie asked.
“He looks totally different.” Jay smiled.
Rosie smiled back.
Jay felt like singing. Instead, he said, “I gotta go.”
“Where?” There was apprehension in Cole’s voice.
“To the bathroom,” Jay said.
“Come on Cole, we’re all done,” Rosie said. They pushed past Jay. Her hair brushed Jay’s arm. Rosie smiled at him. Jay caught a whiff of her shampoo. It smelled of citrus and honey.
