A Kayak for One

by K. L. McCluskey

  It would be pitch black by 8:15 or 8:30 pm this time of year, the first day of fall, Charlene just read in the Farmer's Almanac earlier that day. She liked to have the quirky books in each of the rental cottages as well, so the guests who were as interested as she was, could find out when the sun was expected to rise and set, and the best times to fish, etc. There were lots of good recipes in the books as well, and Charlene would try most of them after the resort was closed when she would have more time to slow cook in the kitchen.

  It's too bad this has happened, she thought, the police would have lights set up around the canoe rack. If the lights were still up, she may not see the total eclipse of the moon that was going to happen in a few days, hopefully visible from the sky above the resort. She planned to sit on a dock and watch.

  She shook her head, upset with herself at thinking of the moon at a time like this. It was her way too when she was a police officer and had to see sights that no one wanted to see. She found if she didn't think too much about what she was seeing and doing, the details could be brought to mind if needed, but she could protect herself from the stress. Some officers liked to talk about every case that was upsetting, but Charlene preferred to sort it out in her mind and file it and not allow it to get in her way of the positive things in her life.

  She thought back to an especially gruesome shift when she arrived at work on December 31st, and was met by the day shift detective who told her to hurry and get her gear, they had a suspicious death to investigate. They drove together to a nice little house in the subdivision on the mountain above Hamilton. Firefighters were on scene, putting the hoses back onto the truck. The captain walked over to their car, his eyes revealing what they hadn't yet seen. He told them they were finished and were awaiting direction from the Fire Marshall who was on his way to the scene.

  Charlene and Derek walked up to the house, obviously the one they were to go to with the burnt attached garage to the left. The garage door was down. They walked up to the door and rang the bell, respecting the owner's privacy, even though patrol officers and firefighters had been all over the house by now. The door was opened by the beat officer. A volunteer with the Victim Services group was already there and introduced herself. She sat beside a woman in her mid-thirties, who was crying and rocking herself on the ottoman in front of an easy chair that had a book and eyeglasses on the seat. Charlene remembered thinking it was unlikely the book would be picked up for some time.

  The woman told them, between her sob bursts, that she drove home from work that day, pulled into the driveway, unlocked the front door, and walked into her foyer filled with smoke. Seeing soot at the bottom of the door in the hallway leading to the garage she opened the door, then closed it and phoned 9-1-1. Firefighters and police were there within minutes and though the fire was mostly out, the woman had much, much more to deal with. She explained she saw her ex-boyfriend's car in the garage engulfed in smoke and small areas of fire. She said she caught a glimpse of her boyfriend sitting behind the wheel of his car. She could only see his teeth and the whites of his dead eyes against the charred black of his body. She managed to close the door before she dialed for help and sat on the ottoman until help arrived. She said she wondered why she didn't fear the smoke or fire and leave the house. Charlene thought it was likely as far as the adrenaline would carry her legs before she collapsed. She also thought it would be likely the woman would have many sleepless nights or bad dreams recalling the horrible scene and gruesome death.

  As she told her story, Charlene and Derek learned that the woman had broken off the relationship just a week before he set his body on fire in her garage. She said her two young children did not like him and she wasn't ready to be with someone her kids were not comfortable with. She didn't like his mood swings either and told him she was not ready to take on the relationship any longer. He began phoning her and phoned every day about 10 times. She said she was just about to pick up rather than let the phone ring, and tell him she would report him to police if he did not stop calling. No one had to say it was too late for that, but they were all thinking it.

  Charlene took her statement as Derek made a call to his wife on his cell phone to say he would be late for their New Year's Eve party. It was 6:00 pm and his shift ended at 4:30 pm when Charlene's shift started. Charlene overheard him, but tried to concentrate on what the woman was telling her. The fire captain came in and Derek put his phone away and went out with him. Charlene knew there would be time to get a more detailed statement, but she also knew that the woman may have set the fire and was a suspect, so she had to pay close attention to whatever clues were evolving. She also had to get into the garage and view the scene and the deceased, knowing clues would abound there too. She left the woman with the volunteer and patrol officer and checked with the firefighters to see if she could enter the garage safely. She could and she did, with the Fire Marshall, who had just arrived.

  What remained of the ex-boyfriend was a skeleton, sitting mostly upright in the driver's seat staring at nothing through the windshield. His eyes were wide open, all the skin black and burned around them. His teeth looked like they were set in a crazy smile, so white in contrast to all the burnt skin of his face and neck. His arms were bent at the elbow and his hands were up close to the steering wheel, burnt and still in a position as though he had his hands on the wheel, but moved them as the wheel burned and the flames went from the interior of the car up the steering wheel then up his arms. He could have been alive while on fire when he moved his hands off the wheel. She hoped he was already dead though, his arms moving off the wheel as they burned. The Fire Marshall would investigate that. He did say that the way the windows were only partially open, would indicate the deceased or whoever started the fire knew the draft would accelerate the flames making for a vicious yet quick burn. Both front windows were open slightly and the back windows closed.

  A Tim Horton's cup, half-filled with milky-looking liquid sat in the cup holder beside him. Inside the car there was a strong gasoline smell among the acrid smoke. Charlene knew she would have to shower, wash her hair and change her suit once she got back to the station. She brought the lapel of her coat over her nose and mouth and got as close to the body as she was allowed. She called dispatch to see if anyone from the Major Crimes Unit, more experienced than they were, could come to the scene or advise them as to what they should do. No one was answering their phones though, as usual it seemed. The police service was understaffed and everyone was always busy. She and Derek made the decision themselves to seize the Tim Horton's cup as possible evidence, a drugging perhaps, and to leave the body in the car and have the whole car towed to the garage of the morgue. The coroner had been notified and was satisfied with that decision. He would view the body in the car in the garage in the basement of the hospital downtown Hamilton, before moving him to the morgue inside.

  Derek said he would drive the unmarked police car while Charlene went in the tow truck to the morgue ensuring continuity of any evidence on the body and in the car. Once they both arrived, they had a quick chat with the pathologist, and began the tedious task of filing reports in the office to the side of the examination room.

  After putting on gloves again, they went into the examination room where the body had been moved, to check his pockets for identification. Charlene had already called for an officer from the Identification Branch to come and try for fingerprints as well. A wallet was in his back pocket with a driver's licence that was surprisingly still legible. Charlene had an address to check for next of kin that matched the address assigned to his car registration. A Scene of Crime Officer, known as a SOCO officer, trained in fingerprinting, as well as any evidence collection, arrived and was able to get a print for comparison with any known print on police file. It wasn't easy for him though, the skin of the fingers and hands were so burnt through so many layers, the skin slipped off like gloves. The skin was bagged in an evidence bag and they covered his hands in bags to protect them until the autopsy. They sealed
the drawer with police tape after the body was placed inside and contacted the Major Crimes Unit again, to make them aware of the situation. They had to leave a phone message, but knew their reports would make it on the Staff Sergeant's desk by the next shift as well as be taken over to the Major Crimes Unit later that shift, so everyone would know what was going on with the deceased and the investigation so far.

  She checked her watch and told Derek she would take over by herself at that point so he could make his party and see in the New Year with his wife. He had already worked a long day and it wouldn't take two of them to contact the next of kin and do the reports. A decision she later regretted making. She drove him back to the station so he could get his car. He would be in the next day anyway and could file his reports then.

  Charlene drove to the deceased's address and the apartment door was opened by a beautiful, black woman dressed in colourful clothes and lots of gold jewellery. They had asked the woman at the scene of the fire what colour her boyfriend's skin was before the fire. It wouldn't be the first time a victim of fire was not the person the police were told it was. Even though it was her boyfriend's car, it could have been any man sitting dead inside it. There was no way of recognizing facial features after a fire like that. They were told he was white.

  The woman in the apartment was the deceased's wife, not aware her husband had been cheating on her. She had that to digest as well as the fact that he was dead. They had a young daughter, just a toddler, asleep in her room. Charlene phoned the woman's sister to come for support. No one was available from Victim Services, being New Year's Eve they were lucky to have the woman at the house with the woman who discovered his body.

  After taking a statement from the deceased's wife, and staying until the sister arrived from across the city, Charlene went back to the station to write the reports. She knew she would be back at work the next day, but she needed the reports to be as complete as possible before she could go home. She had to put the various copies in trays to go to Records Branch, Identification Branch, Major Crimes Unit, as well as on her own boss's desk. She smelled of smoke and despair. The wife had been despondent and her angst was soaked into Charlene as though Charlene was a sponge. The whole ordeal so far had permeated her whole being. She recalled her saying again and again how her husband just bought her a beautiful watch for Christmas. She showed it to Charlene over and over again, as if to prove that he loved her and couldn't be dead in another woman's garage. Charlene couldn't bear to tell her that her husband was on file on a charge of sexual assault against a young person, but, of course, she had to considering their child asleep in the next room. Charlene discovered this when she dropped Derek off at the station. She called Records Branch to see if she could get more information about the deceased before heading to his apartment, and discovered the pending charge with a court date coming soon.

  Somehow the knowledge of the allegation of the sexual assault and a prior conviction for sexual assault made Charlene not feel so bad that he was dead. It made her really angry thinking of how selfish he was to have set himself on fire in his former girlfriend's house, if that's what happened, and cheating on his wife to boot, never mind his poor assault victims. It was difficult to watch his wife cry and deny that he would ever cheat or be in trouble with police. It seemed he kept his cheating, criminal conviction and new charge from her, keeping her in the dark as to the kind of man he really was. She remembered that she seemed more upset about the cheating and didn't really hear, or wouldn't, or couldn't, also take in the criminal matters. Her mind must have been in overload hearing everything from Charlene like that.

  Copies of the reports would have to be sent to central station to the Child Abuse Branch so the investigating detective could notify the Court Branch that the deceased would not be making his court appearance. There would be no justice for the victim or her family now. They would not see their day in court. What a mess, she remembered thinking about that night. She thought back to when she was at her desk writing the reports when she heard the announcer on the police station radio say that it was a new year. She looked at her watch, getting frantic and frustrated with how late it was and how little she felt she had accomplished so far into her shift. She had so much more to do, but felt she couldn't focus. Had she even eaten? No, she realized her last meal was at noon at home.

  She picked up the phone and called her parents, not caring about the no personal calls rule for long distance. When her Mom answered, Charlene couldn't talk for a few minutes. When she could, she told her mother she was having a terrible shift at work and just wanted to say she loved her and to wish her a happy new year. She could barely keep the crack out of her voice when she said she was okay in response to her mother's concerned questions and said goodbye, not being able to stop the tears that rolled down her cheeks onto the desk.

  Charlene thought how selfish it must have been to call, crack up, and say good bye, worrying her parents like that, but that's what she did without thinking.

  She brought her mind back to the present and saw Officer Edwards examining the outside area beyond her yellow roped area.

  Having finished their picnic and seeing the police boat come to the dock seemed to pique the curiosity of the canoeists. They sauntered over to say they were ready to go across to their car. Charlene was sure they really wanted to see an Ontario police officer up close, but then she checked her watch and realized an hour had passed from the time she called 9-1-1 and Officer Edwards arrived so the group was probably anxious to get on the road.

  Charlene introduced them to Officer Edwards, and told him the group had returned to the resort prior to the discovery. He took the hint and asked if they would wait in the office for a few minutes until he could come and speak to them before they left. He told them he would explain as soon as he could.

  As they walked away following his request, he said, "I better wait for Sarah before I let them leave Ms. Parker. Are they okay in the office? I guess I should have asked you first," he added.

  "That was a great idea James. I think that's the best place for them. It's getting damp and dark, and I got the wood stove going just before they came back. It will be cozy for them in there. They were all sitting by the beach so they don't know what's happening, but they'll be expecting to head out soon though. They told me they wanted to get to Sudbury tonight. It's only an hour drive, but I think they're pooped from the canoe trip," Charlene explained.

  "Where are they from?" Officer Edwards asked.

  "Scotland," she told him.

  "All the more reason to not trust them," he replied, rolling his eyes and smiling.

  It was common knowledge in the area that many of the Anishinaabe living on James' reserve were descendants of the union between a Scottish fishing captain, Alexander MacGregor, and a native woman. The captain was a fisherman in the area in about 1850 and he married and settled in the area. He was buried near the river in the nearby village. The name was changed to McGregor over time and the bay was named after him.

  Officer Edwards name was traced back to Wales and England and not Scotland, the non-native name given to his family years ago, but any Celtic name was fodder for his amusement. Charlene wondered if he would take on an aboriginal name at some time.

  "What's the origin of your name Ms. Parker, if you don't mind me asking?"

  "Scotland," she said smiling waiting for his reaction and getting it as he rolled his eyes again. "It means 'keeper of the park'"

  "That's cool since you keep this land," he said.

  "And I hope to keep it. If you lot will get on with this, I can get on with my business," she said, upset at her memories and the present situation.

  Chapter 29

  Charlene

  The headlights could be seen across the water in the parking lot. Charlene told Officer Edwards she would go over with the pontoon boat. He said he would take the police boat, but Charlene suggested he may want to keep an eye on the crime scene. He had the knowledge to blush slightly before thank
ing her from letting him make a big mistake. She also told him before she left that the Porters were in cottage #5 and they were the only other guests at the resort. She said she heard the motor of their rental boat, then saw the boat tied to the dock just before she started to drag the canoes back to the rack. She hadn't heard it leave again so figured they were inside the cottage for the night.

  "Okay, more witnesses to be interviewed. Gotcha. I'll let Sarah know," he said.

  Charlene took the big flashlight with her, knowing the parking lot light did not light up the entire dock. She pulled on the lights on the pontoon boat, and carefully made her way to the landing. When she arrived, O.P.P. Detective Sarah Davidson was waiting with the coroner on the dock, ready to hop on the boat.

  "Hi Sarah," said Charlene.

  "Oh man Staff. I'm sorry. What are you, a magnet for dead bodies?"

  Charlene knew that Sarah also used black humour as her way of having to deal with dismal and dire situations, and being the only major crime detective in the area, she had to investigate most of them. Sometimes the local O.P.P. station had to call in help from Sudbury, but Sarah hated when that happened. She liked to be in charge and didn't like other detectives trying to take over her cases. Sarah told Charlene she didn't really like many of the male officers working in major crimes. Though she was out, she still put up with jokes and jeers from the guys trying to get her to switch teams. Sarah lived with a woman 10 years her senior in a house on a large lot just off Highway 17. The location was good for Sarah, just a five minute drive to the police station, and Patty, her partner, had plenty of room to park her semi and hit the road four days a week for a local trucking company. Sarah took advantage of the days when Patty was on the road and spent most of her time at the police station, so they could have some time together when Patty came home.

  Sarah was referring to the case last summer when Charlene found a dead man hanging from a tree. She was returning from taking cottagers from the parking lot to their cottage. Each year she took the woman and her elderly mother, both from Tennessee, to their old family cottage on one of the islands at the start of the season and brought them back at the end of the summer. They kept their boat on shore at the cottage and needed a ride to get there. They were regular customers of Charlene's, getting gas for the boat, ice for an old fridge they used more as a cooler, and propane tanks. There was no hydro out there and they used propane lights inside the cottage.