by John Hunt
“Hey Davis. What’s going on?”
“We got him. The rec centre guy. We’re bringing him in now. I just wanted you to know, before I interview him.”
Flustered, Olivia didn’t know how to respond and so she remained silent.
“Olivia?”
She said, “Is he the Jackal?”
“Well, you know, right now it’s all pretty circumstantial. What we mostly got is coincidence. But this guy is going to get the full treatment. Financials, background checks, freaking grade school records. We’re going to get as much as we can. By the end of it, he’ll think an enema is less intrusive.”
“What’s his name?”
“Darcy Bowles. Mean anything to you?”
“No. Nothing. Hey Davis?”
“Yeah?”
“Do you think it’s him. Do you think he’s the Jackal?”
“It doesn’t look good for him, that’s for sure. If you’re asking for a definite answer I can’t give you one right now. I need more information. We need to process his DNA, after we get a warrant for it, of course. I will tell you this though. You wanna know where we picked him up?”
“Yeah.”
“A block from Lucy’s place. Just strolling along, heading towards her home…we think.”
“Were you guys watching him?”
“Just found out who he was earlier today. Once we knew, we had a few guys set up on him. We decided to bring him in when we saw him heading to Lucy’s in case he was planning to…you know. Like I said, this guys looks good. But listen, I gotta go. I’ll let you know more tomorrow.”
“Just one more thing. Did he have a mask with him?”
“No. It could be in his house though. If he still has it. It’d be pretty ballsy to carry it around outside with him. We’re trying to get a warrant for the house too.”
“He still has it. He wouldn’t get rid of that. It’s who he wants to be. But I’ll let you go. Thanks Davis. Thanks for the call.”
She hung up. Harry stood near her. When did he leave the TV?
Harry said, “What’s up? You look a little peaked.”
“That was Davis. They think they got him…got the Jackal.”
“That’s good news, right?”
“Yeah. Definitely. Only, I didn’t think it’d be this easy.”
“This seemed easy to you?”
“No. Well, I don’t know. I was kinda hoping he’d be killed, you know, resisting arrest or some such shit. He had that feel about him, suicide by cop instead of capture. I can’t picture him going to jail, not willingly anyways.”
“Cheer up. Who knows? Maybe someone will murder him in prison.”
Olivia, shaking, began to cry. Harry pulled her into a hug.
“I don’t know what to do. They think they have him but they can’t say for sure. I don’t know what to think. I should be relieved but I feel so anxious I want to scream.”
Harry said, “Nothing’s changed honey. We’ll keep doing what we’re doing until Davis calls back and says they definitely got him. Until then, we don’t let our guard down.”
She controlled her breathing, listening to her dad’s heart in his chest and wishing she didn’t feel so terrified all the time. There were times when lounging with Brutus, she forgot about the basement, about ripping Grady’s neck open with her teeth and the taste and smell of his hot blood jetting down her throat. There were moments when she even forgot about the Jackal. How stupid of her. How naive. Those events forever shaped her. Those ugly and terrible men were a part of her, forever altering her thoughts of safety and how she thought of herself. She couldn’t help but think the Jackal wasn’t done with her yet. To believe him to be caught and sitting in jail didn’t seem right. It did seem too easy. Maybe she built it up in her mind as something more because of what she went through. A towering event in her life ending not with a bang but with a quiet whisper.
Suddenly tired, she pulled away from her dad and told him she was going to bed. She walked down the hall to her room, patting the knife at her belt. Brutus padded behind her.
She settled in her bed and put the knife under her pillow. She hadn’t done that for awhile but it felt right to do so tonight. She slept in her track pants and sweater. Harry had turned on the AC the minute he walked in the door. She couldn’t decide if the AC caused the deep chill inside her or the talk about the Jackal. Either way, she climbed in her bed and pulled the covers up to her chin. She reached over to turn off the bedside lamp and paused with her finger at the switch. She retracted her hand and thought tonight she would sleep with the light on. Her mind burned with rampant thoughts. Brutus lay on his dog bed, eyes watching her with doggy concern.
“I’ll be alright fella.”
His tail twitched.
Sleep arrived unexpectedly, amidst heavy worry.
-34-
Lucy was arguing with her parents when Davis called her. Mostly arguing with her dad. She wanted to go out and didn’t want to be driven around by her dad, which he insisted on doing, to act as a surly, squinty-eyed bodyguard, terrorizing people who dared approach her. It wasn’t her fault she was taken and it wasn’t her fault that he felt so much guilt because of it. She wanted to go out and meet a friend for coffee. A boy, a cute one who was interning at CBC news. He had been backstage giving her the eye wearing one of those head-mic’s talking to whoever, flashing her a smile now and then. After her interview, she put on her coat and he walked up to her, gave her his card while holding onto it a little too tight so he could touch her hand and she liked that, a lot.
She called him and they started flirting and it was progressing until Jen got herself killed. Maybe that wasn’t accurate. More like the Jackal killed her. Point being, her dad went ballistic and insisted on driving her everywhere and being her annoying shadow. And that definitely put a crimp on her social life. How do you go on a date with your dad following you around? Short answer: you don’t.
So the intern, Trevor, was losing interest. And, Lucy thought,why wouldn’t he? Phone convos and clever texts are fine for a while but not forever. She needed that human touch. And judging from Trevor’s texts, he needed it too. And her dad was ruining everything! And he didn’t care!
She was holding a phone in her hand, waving it at her dad to accentuate her point, saying, “I’m going to live her forever aren’t I? Become some old cat lady. No husband or boyfriend, just a houseful of stinky fucking cats! You know I hate cats! I don’t want to be a cat lady!”
“You’re overreacting. I’ll drop you off. I’m not going to stare at you, but I’ll be close by and when you’re done, I’ll give you a lift home. What’s the big deal?”
“The big deal, dad, is-“
The phone trilled in her hand and she jumped, staring at it with her mouth open.
Her dad said, “Are you going to answer it or eat it?”
She glared at him, nodded and said, “Yeah, but this…is to be continued.”
Lucy slid her thumb along the answer button and said, “Hello?”
Davis told her the same thing he told Olivia. She interrupted him when he said they arrested the guy just down the street from her house. “Just outside? You’re kidding me?”
He wasn’t. Olivia understood it was possible they didn’t have the Jackal in custody. Lucy chose to believe they caught him. To her, they got the guy and she could finally go out without her dad breathing down her neck. The Jackal had been caught and she was gloriously fucking free! She hung up the phone, beaming which caused immediate suspicion from her father.
“What?”
“They got him. They got the Jackal.”
“Really?”
> “Yeah. That was the cop.”
“Well. Who is he?”
She waved her hand dismissively, “Darcy something or other.”
“You don’t remember his name?”
“Yeah, I said it was Darcy didn’t I?”
“When can we know more?”
“He said he’d call later with the details. Right now they are interrogating him.”
“Hope they beat the fucker.”
Her mother from the other room yelled, “Dear! Language.”
He rolled his eyes and said, “Sorry, honey. But did you hear? They got the prick!”
“What? That’s great news!”
“So dad?”
“Yeah?”
“Can I have the keys now or what?”
-35-
Davis studied Darcy on the TV monitor. He wore the expression of a man who had been bonked on the head, a perpetually stunned face. Davis frowned, all but sure the man sitting in the interview room wasn’t the Jackal. If he is, then he is the world’s best actor. A few years back, an investigator once told him there were no such things as coincidences and the saying had proven true to Davis. But sometimes, very rarely, a coincidence was in fact a coincidence. And this man, sitting on the chair, offering stuttering and vehement denials, had the distinct odour of innocence to him. A scent Davis detected early in the interview.
Darcy was a broken man. Busted apart by events beyond his control. The story he offered had checked out in every way and the more concerning part was, it made sense. He did not project the air of a man capable of the acts the Jackal had done. He didn’t have the arrogance to skillfully manipulate a man like Shawn Grady to his will. The presence wasn’t there. Darcy wanted to disappear, disperse into the background, escaping notice and being spared the uncomfortable action of conversation. Physically, he appeared to be a match. Tall, lean and strong. That is the only way he compared to the Jackal in Davis’ mind. Darcy avoided eye contact. Not in the way a guilty person would, where the eyes would slide away whenever a tough question needed to be answered. No, Darcy didn’t like to look people in the eye. It made him very uncomfortable because it was too direct. Davis believed it would be how he talked to anyone and not just because he was in a police station being questioned as a suspected serial killer.
“What do you think? He our guy?”
His direct supervisor, Sergeant Ben Arturo, stood with him, watching Darcy stare into his lap. Ben held a coffee in his hand. Davis could smell tobacco smoke on him. He must have just come in from outside.
“From the interview? I’d say no. But I’ve been fooled before.”
“Did he consent to giving a DNA sample?”
“Yeah.”
“On video?”
“Yeah.”
“Sweet.”
Consent could prove tricky to deal with in court. They wanted to know if the consent was truly voluntary and if the person giving it understood their right to refuse and the potential consequences. For big cases, Davis didn’t believe in using consent to get his evidence. He would rather go by way of warrant. And he did this time too.
“I still applied for the warrant. I told him I would be getting one for his DNA and he offered it right then. No hesitation.”
“And that worries you?”
Davis turned to Ben, “It doesn’t worry you?”
He sighed, “Yeah. Yeah it does. Why can’t shit ever be easy?”
“I know.”
“What he’d have to say about being at the rec centre? And the university and Lucy’s house? Can’t all be coincidence, man.”
“I’d normally agree with you, but…” Davis shrugged his shoulders.
“Shit.”
“Yeah.”
“What are you waiting on now?”
“The DNA warrant’s been signed. Just waiting for a tech to get the sample. They’re gonna put a rush on it. They could match the fingerprints, the ones we lifted from the house, right away. The DNA takes a little longer as you know. A couple of days at least. I gotta tell you boss, I’m not very hopeful. When we first got him? I fist punched the air, you know? I was pumped! Now though, I got a bad feeling. A real bad feeling.”
“I remember those. They suck.”
“Agreed.”
“What’s his story anyways? What’d he say about being at the rec centre?”
“Darcy’d been going there for years. He used to take his daughter, Lisa.”
“Oh shit. I know where this is going. She’s dead, isn’t she?”
“No. But that’s exactly what I thought when he started talking. He woke up one day, went to work and when he came home, his wife and kid were gone. She just took their daughter and moved back home to the States with her family. Their daughter was born there, so now he can’t get her back. She won’t even let him see her.”
“What’s this have to do with the pool?”
“Before his wife split with Lisa, he used to take her swimming all the time because she loved it. By the way, we checked and a Lisa Bowles was registered for swimming lessons there for two years. Right around the time Olivia worked there. After his wife left, he went to the pool, to sit nearby. He would close his eyes and listen to the kids’ laughing. Sometimes, he could hear a laugh very similar to Lisa’s and he’d pretend she was back. He said, for the time, it helped with the pain.”
“Was Olivia there when he went back by himself?”
“Yes. See, Olivia worked there when he used to bring his daughter for the swimming lessons. She wouldn’t remember him, then. Why should she? He was just like any other parent at the pool drying off their kid when they got out of the water and yapping to other parents about how special their kid was. But she would notice a man hanging out at the pool without any kids. It would be something people notice because it borders on creepy.”
“And this all checks out?”
“Yup. Tracked down his ex-wife. They were never married. Kind of like-oh shit, you’re pregnant so let’s live together-type of deals. One of our guys spoke to her and the timeline is right.”
“Damn.”
“Yup.”
“Did she say why she left?”
Davis smiled, “Said she couldn’t stand Canadian weather. Hates the cold. Hates how in one day you can go through four seasons, snow, rain, sun and hail.”
“Huh. She’s right. Our weather can do that. Some parts of the States are like that too though. Why didn’t she bring Darcy with her?”
“He was too nice.”
“Too nice? Is that a thing?”
“I guess. He’d do anything for her and Lisa. He never got mad or miffed at whatever she asked him to do. She didn’t think it was normal. She said she likes a guy with some backbone.”
“A super nice guy? The guy we pegged as a serial killer is a super nice guy?”
Davis shrugged. He said, “You know what he does for a living?”
“No. What?”
“He’s a contractor.”
“That’s good, right? He’d be able to build the basement like that. He’d know how to do it.”
“Yes and no. He said he had a job in Guelph at the time of Olivia’s abduction. Doing work for the university. Some students ruined one of the dorms and they hired him to fix it up. He just finished on the day the students were starting back at school.”
“He can prove this?”
“Guelph university keeps records that far back. So yeah, we can and did prove it.”
“Fuck.”
“Exactly. Even if he is our guy
, the defence has great reasons as to why he was where he was.”
“If it’s him, there is no excuse in the world that would explain why his DNA and fingerprints are inside that torture house.”
Davis sighed and said, “I think, by now, we both know it won’t be.”
“Goddamnit.”
They shared a moment of disappointment. Ben said, “What about walking to Lucy’s house? What’d he have to say about that?”
“He lives in the area. He went for a walk. We spoke to a few neighbours. It’s not uncommon for him to go out for walks.”
“Turning into a real clusterfuck isn’t it? We were all about to start kissing your ass, congratulating you on your awesomeness.”
“That option is still viable. Here, I’ll drop my pants for you. You can be the first to kiss it.”
“I’ll pass on your ass.”
“You’re a goddamn poet Sarge.”
“A man of many talents. That’s me. So, what’s next?”
“We work on this like he’s our guy until we’re certain he’s not. The fingerprints and DNA should prove it either way conclusively. I have no other leads to follow.”
“Alright. I’ll have to report this to the Inspector. She won’t be happy.”
Davis nodded and said, “I’ll be here for awhile. I have a few follow up questions to ask.”
Ben stepped out of the room and when Davis thought he’d gone, Ben poked his head back in and said, “So? You’re sure he’s not our guy?”
“I’ll be sure when we get DNA. But I’d have to say, at this point, his story checks out. We’ve proven that much of it.”
“Poop.”
“Yes. Poop.”
“Call if you need anything.”
“Will do.”
. . .
Sergeant Ben Arturo notified the Inspector of the disappointing news. The Inspector, Mary Fitch, had been preparing her statement for the media. They were aware the police had made an arrest and were salivating for details. The Inspector wanted to give it to them yet after speaking with Ben, she decided it would be prudent to be vague. She would offer the general nonsense, we’re still investigating, person of interest, blah-blah, bullshit, bullshit. She closed her eyes and said, “Fuck.”
