The Travelling Detective: Boxed Set

by Joan Donaldson-Yarmey

  Elizabeth hadn’t hesitated in accepting. Whistler, B.C. The name was iconic with downhill skiing and snowboarding, excitement, fun, money, and the 2010 Olympics. She had immediately Googled Whistler and learned, to her surprise, that there were also summer activities.

  Over the past few summers she’d written travel articles for magazines, doing the travelling and researching while on her holidays. After learning about Whistler she’d sent off a proposal to one of the magazines she contributed to and suggested an article on the resort town, tentatively titled Whistler--A Summer Vacation Spot. The idea had been accepted and she’d made her plans.

  Both Elizabeth and Sally worked at a long term care facility as nursing attendants. Wanting to make sure they got their holidays at the same time, they’d booked them early in the year.

  They’d left Edmonton the previous morning and spent the night in Chilliwack. After a leisurely breakfast to miss the rush hour traffic, they’d followed Highway 1 through some of the cities that made up Greater Vancouver. Just before the Horseshoe Ferry Terminal they’d taken the Sea to Sky Highway, also known as Highway 99, to Whistler.

  As they’d driven the highway, stopping at attractions along the way and Elizabeth realized what a wealth of material there was for travel-related articles she’d e-mailed the magazine editor about doing a second article tentatively titled, The Journey to Whistler, which could be published at the same time or maybe the month before.

  Elizabeth drove her Tracker past Village Gate Boulevard and at the second set of lights turned right on Nancy Greene Way.

  Sally glanced to her right just after the turn. "Down that driveway and behind those tall trees is where the Whistler Sci-Fi and Fantasy Retreat and Convention begins tomorrow," she told Elizabeth. "Now, just follow this drive around and it becomes Ambassador Crescent." Sally looked at the set of directions she’d been sent. "SnowBound Bed and Breakfast should be on the left part way down."

  Ambassador Crescent was a narrow street with no sidewalks. Elizabeth drove slowly. Ahead they could see a large backhoe in a yard and a crowd of people standing on the street. They passed three other bed and breakfasts before spying the large sign that was shaped like a mountain and had snow painted on top. It was just beyond the yard where the backhoe was tearing down a house.

  Elizabeth inched along the road and the crowd grudgingly moved out of her way. She pulled into the small, paved parking lot in front of the white, three storey house where they had rented a suite for the two weeks.

  Elizabeth and Sally stepped out of the Tracker. Elizabeth grimaced at the roar of the machine’s motor and the cracking of the wood. They looked over and were just in time to see the operator direct the bucket out so its teeth dug into the roof of the old, wood-sided house, pulling off some more of the shingles and plywood. The next time it broke some of the rafters. The crowd was silent as the watchers stared at the progress.

  "I wonder what’s so fascinating about demolishing a building?" Sally asked.

  "Yeah, you’d think in Whistler B.C. there would be more interesting things to do."

  Elizabeth reached in and picked up Chevy, her cockapoo dog. She didn’t want him running off because of the noise. They went around to the back of the vehicle and Sally opened the door. She pulled out her two bags.

  "I’ll come back and get mine once we’ve checked in," Elizabeth said.

  It was a short walk along a path through some low bushes to the office. Beside the door was a sign to just walk in. They pushed open the door, which rang an overhead bell. The room they entered was large and looked like a living room, dining room, kitchen combination. There were tables to the right and left, a small kitchen in the far right corner, and a living room with a fireplace to the far left. Ahead was a hallway with doors opening off it and a set of stairs at the end. A woman came out of one of the doors and smiled when she saw them.

  "Ms. Matthews and Ms. Oliver?"

  "That’s us," Sally said, setting down her bags.

  "Good." The woman walked up to them and held out her hand. "I’m Beverly Sanders."

  They shook hands. "And this must be Chevy." She held out the back of her hand to him. He sniffed it then struggled to get down.

  "What’s happening next door?" Sally asked, while Beverly led them down the hall into a small office.

  "The owners of that house have decided to tear it down and build a bed and breakfast."

  "Another bed and breakfast?" Sally said. "We saw three along this street just getting here."

  "And there are more further along the crescent. Our street’s nickname is B&B Crescent."

  "So, why the crowd out there?" Elizabeth asked.

  "Well, it seems that years ago the mother of a previous owner disappeared and rumour has it that her daughter killed her and buried her body in the house somewhere." She handed each of them a card to fill out.

  "Oh, no," Elizabeth muttered under her breath, as she wrote her name, address, and vehicle licence number on her card.

  Sally turned to her with a smirk. "And you thought you were going to be able to relax here."

  Beverly looked at them, a puzzled expression on her face.

  "My friend here is quite renowned for solving murders," Sally said, handing back the card. "She has four to her credit already."

  "Well, if there is a body, then the murderer will probably have been the daughter, like the story," Beverly said. "And if there is no body then the rumour will be put to rest."

  "How come it took so long to tear down the house and see?" Sally asked.

  "Because the police really had nothing to go on other than the woman’s disappearance. And her daughter said she had run off with her boyfriend. She even had a letter from her to prove it. So nothing was done until today and for an entirely different reason."

  They followed Beverly up two flights of stairs to their suite on the top floor. There was a kitchen to the right, a dining room table and chairs in the middle, and a couch and two overstuffed chairs facing a television on the left. Beside the table an open patio door led to a balcony that had a bistro table and two chairs. Beverly hurried over to close the door blocking out most of the noise from the demolition.

  "The two bedrooms are exactly the same," she said, opening a door off the kitchen. Inside was a double bed, dresser, desk and chair and an en-suite. She dug in her jean pockets. "Here are keys for each of you to the front door and for the suite. The front door is unlocked all day but we do lock it at 10:00pm."

  "Thank you," Sally said, pocketing hers.

  Elizabeth did the same.

  "The pool is covered until after the demolition," Beverly said, as she went out the door. "I’ll be downstairs if you need anything."

  Elizabeth went over to the patio door. She looked down on the rapidly disappearing house. Though the door was closed it did little to muffle the noise. She also saw the pool. She planned on spending a lot of time swimming and sun tanning.

  "I’d better go get my things," she said. She hated the idea of having to go down where the machine was so loud, but she also wanted to get unpacked.

  "I’ll stay here with Chevy," Sally called from her bedroom. She was already hanging her clothes in her closet.

  At the vehicle Elizabeth grabbed her suitcase and laptop then locked the door and hurried back to her room. She entered the other bedroom, which was off the living room. After she’d hung her clothes and put her suitcases away she set her tape recorder and computer on the desk. She used her computer with its voice activation to record the distance between attractions, what streets or roads her readers would take to get to the sites, and what she saw from her vehicle as she drove. Her tape recorder was for when she entered buildings, went on hikes, and read interpretive signs. She also used it when she interviewed people. On the days when weather or some other problem prevented her from travelling, she spent her time entering the data she’d recorded onto her laptop.

  She’d just finished organizing her room when the backhoe finally shut off. Both she a
nd Sally went out on the balcony to look down.

  "Well, no one seems excited so it looks like there’s no skeleton," Elizabeth said.

  "Are you disappointed? Because there’s still the basement or crawl space, or whatever is under it," Sally grinned.

  "Oh, stop it." Elizabeth stepped inside and picked up Chevy’s leash with two plastic bags tied to it. This set him jumping at her leg and barking. "I’m going to take him for a walk then we can go buy groceries."

  Chevy was her companion on her research trips. He supplied company and a reason to go for walks to keep in shape. While she did get out to visit sites and attractions, she also spent a lot of time driving from place to place. By the end of the day she felt the need to get rid of her excess energy.

  * * *

  I’m up earlier than usual. I quickly shower then get my suitcase out and open it on my bed. It’s time to pack for my stay in Whistler. I am at the closet when an image appears and blocks out my closet door. It disappears before I can recognize it and I see the door again. Another shape replaces the door. I turn to my dresser and then my bed. More images flit in and out of my sight overlying anything I am looking at. Then the short flashes of light, almost like small lightning strikes, begin.

  I know what’s happening. I hurry to my case and unpack my laptop, quickly turning it on. I wait impatiently. It’s taking so long. I wonder who is contacting me this time. Is it Mikk relating his story about his experimental freezing and thawing of bodies or Gwin telling about her experiences as a convict sent to this planet during its very early history.

  The words come. It’s a continuation of Mikk’s story. I type as fast as I can. I know I miss words, sometimes whole sentences but I can’t help it. I’ve tried writing it out by hand but that’s even slower.

  * * *

  Mikk pushed open the door to the test room and entered. He glanced at the man strapped to the bed and nodded. He didn't have to look to know that the eyes of the man followed him as he walked over to the table beside the bed. On it was a button, a chart, and a syringe. Mikk picked up the chart and read the notations of the night staff.

  "Your glucose levels have remained within our target range for the past week."

  "Yippee for me."

  Mikk ignored the sarcasm. All the volunteers were all like that, eager to join the test group at the beginning but over time…. " Looks like you spent another restful night."

  "What else am I going to do being chained to my bed day and night?"

  "We have to protect our staff." His eyes ran down the chart. "You had your final meal of potatoes this morning."

  "If I survive this I’ll never eat potatoes again."

  Mikk put the chart back and picked up the syringe. He uncapped it and held it up to the light, checking the dosage.

  "You understand what’s going to happen," Mikk said.

  "Yeah, yeah. You've told me enough times."

  "I just want to make sure you are aware that this is an experiment and there is no guarantee as to the final results."

  "I know. I may wake up and I may not. What are you trying to do? Ease your guilt at using a human being for your experiments?"

  "The choice was yours."

  "Yeah, and some choice. Either stay in the Orbital Prison for the rest of my life or be frozen solid for awhile and hopefully still be alive when I’m thawed."

  "If you're alive you get to return to your family on Megalopolis Two with a pension."

  The man snorted. "Just get on with it."

  Mikk stuck the needle into the man’s arm and injected the sedative. He threw the syringe in the garbage and checked his watch. It should take effect in a few moments.

  Mikk was a scientist and one of his assignments was space cryonics. The Space Organization hoped to eventually send frozen explorers to other galaxies, thawing them once they’d reached their destination. For the past two years he’d been working on a way to freeze living bodies and then thaw them without harming their cells.

  He’d tried various unsuccessful methods before reading a history book about a species of reptiles that had once lived on the planet. In winter they would burrow into the ground and freeze; come spring they would thaw with no ill effects. Scientists at the time believed that the glucose in the reptile’s cells prevented ice crystals from forming and bursting those cells.

  He’d asked for Orbital Prison volunteers and had spent weeks feeding them various foods and measuring their glucose. With all the foods the level had risen after eating but had lowered again within ninety minutes. Even having them eat often throughout the day hadn’t kept their count up for more than the ninety minutes.

  Working with a planet scientist he’d devised a synthetic glucose solution which he administered to the volunteers intravenously. It had increased and maintained the glucose for up to three hours after the intravenous was removed. But that still wasn’t long enough, so he and the planet scientist had injected the solution into potato plants. When the volunteers ate the potatoes over a three week period the glucose in their cells increased and remained at that level for a few days after their last potato. He hadn’t been sure how high a quantity of glucose was needed to ensure a safe frozen state and eventual thawing, and unfortunately all of the Orbital Prison volunteers used so far had died.

  He now hoped he had the right amount, for time was running out. A group of fellow space scientists were beginning work with a segmentation machine, which, they hoped, could separate the mind from the body. Once separated, the scientists planned to transport the “person” to another planet and implant it into a body there. The mind then would direct that body and through it explore the planet, gaining an understanding of the life on it.

  Mikk watched the eyes of the man as they slowly closed. As in the others, he saw fear replace the hostility they’d all exhibited throughout the pre-freeze analysis. Their final thoughts were that they might not return.

  Mikk checked the man’s pulse and found it slow and steady. He lifted the eyelids. The eyes stared back at him, unseeing. There would be no problems. He pushed the button which summoned two attendants with a trolley bed. While he waited he undid the straps.

  When the bed arrived, Mikk had the attendants lift the man onto it and strap him in, this time so that if he had a seizure he wouldn’t fall off. Mikk led the way from the test room to his freezing laboratory.

  They wheeled the bed over beside a long, oval shaped chamber. Various hoses and wires ran from the glass lid to a large machine. Mikk opened the lid, taking care to position the wires so the electrodes on the ends didn’t touch. The attendants stripped off the man’s clothes and rubbed the oil used to prevent freezer burn all over his body. They placed the body in the chamber and after washing their hands, left.

  Mikk checked the man’s vital signs which were still good. He hooked up a pulse instrument to the man’s wrist and neck. He taped electrodes to the man’s forehead just above his nose, behind his right ear, over his heart, on his left testicle, behind his left knee, and just above the ankle bone on his right leg. He picked up a long, needle-sized thermometer and inserted it through the stomach into the inner body. The hole would be stitched up if the man survived the process.

  Mikk turned on the tracing machine and checked that the thermometer and each electrode was sending back a signal. When he was satisfied, he closed the glass lid and fastened it securely. Beside the tracing machine was an instrument panel with dials, switches, and gauges. Mikk twisted two dials watching to make sure their pressures were the same. He watched two gasses swirl together under the glass.

  He checked the gauges. The temperature inside the chamber had to drop gradually giving the body time to adjust to the cooler conditions. He studied the readouts on the tracing machine. So far the temperature of the whole body was falling at the same rate. Mikk looked through the glass lid. The body was shivering, a natural response as it tried to keep warm. By noon the temperature hovered just above the freezing mark. Mikk shut off the gasses. It was time for the f
inal body function check.

  The pulse instrument showed a very weak, very slow movement. The glucose helped maintain a state of life until the actual freezing. The tracing machine displayed the body temperature as being uniform and the thermometer indicated that the inner temperature had dropped. Everything was proceeding normally.

  Mikk turned the dials again and the gasses stirred. He increased the pressure, mindful that the temperature couldn’t drop too fast. The objective was to steadily take the whole body down to just under the freezing point. The gasses slowly created a layer of frost on the lid blocking Mikk’s view. When the gauge registered five degrees below freezing, Mikk slacked off the pressure. He now would have to spend the rest of the day minutely adjusting the dials until the temperature remained constant.

  * * *

  That’s it. I sit back drained. My back hurts. My arms ache. While I’m typing I don’t move. Again, I wonder when this will all make sense, what the full story will be when it has all been told. I wish I could tell someone what’s happening to me, but they wouldn’t understand. I look at my watch and jump up. Where did the time go? The retreat starts tomorrow and I have to drive to Whistler yet today.

  Chapter 2

  The demolished house was now just a pile of splintered wood, drywall, and shingles. Elizabeth was surprised to see some people still grouped in front of it. Chevy stopped to smell a small bush and Elizabeth smiled at a couple who glanced her way.

  "What’s going up now?" she asked, even though she knew the answer. A question was always a good icebreaker.

  "Another bed and breakfast is one of the stories we heard," the woman said. She had reddish blonde hair and was wearing blue capri pants with a matching blue top. She looked to be in her early forties.