The Ravens (Minnesota Trilogy)

by Vidar Sundstøl

  “Chrissy’s right,” said Willy. “You really are roaming around in the dark, aren’t you?”

  “No,” said Lance. “Just the opposite. I’m turning on the light in one room after the other.”

  38

  THAT NIGHT he spent a long time just sitting and thinking. If Chrissy and Lenny Diver had had a relationship, that meant she was either the mystery woman that Diver claimed to have been with on the night of the murder, or else she was the girlfriend that he had been two-timing. If the first instance was true, she would have come forward long ago to give him an alibi, yet for some strange reason Diver hadn’t wanted to reveal her identity. But what if she was the jilted girlfriend? The Chrissy that Lance knew would have still done what she could to help someone caught in such a serious situation. So why hadn’t she gone to the police and told them about the bloodstained man with the baseball bat who was seen outside Finland only a couple of hours after Georg Lofthus was killed? A middle-aged white man. It was totally implausible that she would have kept quiet. If there was any truth to the story, of course. But there wasn’t. It was a lie she’d invented to tell Lance when he showed up unexpectedly, claiming to be working undercover on the Lofthus case. She’d seized the opportunity and made up a story she thought would divert her uncle’s attention away from Lenny Diver, hoping it might contribute to setting him free.

  Lance fiddled with the old dream catcher. The thought of touching something that Swamper Caribou had touched was soothing, strangely enough.

  Maybe Chrissy was the one who had persuaded those two small-time crooks, Mist and King, to give him a little scare. And it wasn’t really surprising that Diver had agreed to meet with Lance, since he probably knew everything about Chrissy’s gullible uncle who was working on the case because the police actually doubted they’d got the right man.

  Lance put down the dream catcher and got up to go over to the wall where all the family photographs hung, including a picture of Chrissy. It had been taken no more than seven or eight years ago. A girl of ten with long blond hair and blue eyes. Next to it was the conspicuously empty space where the high school picture of her father had been. The only trace remaining was a slightly lighter rectangle on the wall. For some reason it reminded him of the gun Andy had taken from him. When he thought about everything that had happened over the past six months, it seemed unthinkable that they’d ever be able to restore the almost idyllic sense of order that had reigned before the murder of Georg Lofthus. He corrected himself the second he had that thought. There had never been an idyllic sense of order. Chrissy had had a relationship both with Lenny Diver and with addictive substances before the murder. And Andy had been living with his secret. The only difference was that Lance Hansen hadn’t known about these matters. That was where the lost sense of order came from. But the period of blessed ignorance was over. Lance had seen the two who were holding hands. Chrissy Hansen and Lenny Diver. He was positive he was right. Now it was just a matter of not making any mistakes.

  39

  TAMMY OPENED THE DOOR, dressed in jeans and a faded T-shirt with a logo from an amusement park somewhere in Wisconsin. Lance hung up his jacket in the hall and followed her into the house.

  “Coffee?” she called over her shoulder.

  “Sounds good.”

  She disappeared into the kitchen while Lance stood in the middle of the living room and waited. A moment later she was back, carrying a tray with mugs, a pot of hot water, and instant coffee.

  “Go ahead and sit down,” she said. “Don’t be shy.”

  Lance sat down. In silence they mixed themselves some coffee.

  There wasn’t a sound in the house other than the light tapping of the teaspoons as they stirred the coffee in the mugs. Lance had called earlier in the day to ask Tammy if she was home alone and whether he could come over to talk to her about Chrissy. Tammy had been reluctant, maybe because of what had almost happened the last time he’d visited.

  Now she set her teaspoon down on the saucer and gave him a skeptical look.

  “Why do you want to talk to me about Chrissy?” she asked.

  Lance had already decided what to say, since he knew she’d ask that question.

  “Actually, this isn’t about Chrissy at all,” he said. “But it’s possible she can help me with something. Have you heard the name Lenny Diver?”

  “The murderer?”

  “Yeah. That’s what those of us on the police force think he is. But now we’re afraid that the evidence against him isn’t going to hold up. He’ll probably get off.”

  Tammy raised her hand to her mouth.

  “And when he goes free,” said Lance, “what do you think will be the first thing he wants?”

  She stared at him with big eyes, but didn’t say a word.

  “The same thing all men want if they’ve been in prison,” Lance went on. “Plus dope. Lots of it.”

  “But he’s not going to get out, is he?” said Tammy faintly.

  “Most likely he will. And the trial starts soon, so it won’t be long before he’s back on the North Shore.”

  “But what . . . What can we . . . ?”

  “What can you do?” He finished the question for her. “You can start by telling me everything you know about Chrissy and Lenny Diver. Nothing that you say will be used against Chrissy. Her drug problem will be handled discreetly, and without getting the police involved. I give you my word of honor.”

  Tammy buried her face in her hands, as if she needed a moment alone. Then she raised her head and looked her brother-in-law in the eye.

  “It started almost two years ago,” she said. “Chrissy had just turned sixteen. One day I got a phone call from a teacher, who asked me whether everything was okay with her. It turned out that she hadn’t been to school in over a week. I had no idea because she left the house every morning, as usual.”

  She lit a cigarette, inhaled deeply, and paused for a long time before she let a cloud of bluish smoke spill from her lips.

  “Andy decided to follow her,” Tammy went on. “He found out that a girlfriend who had her own car was waiting for Chrissy down the street. Andy followed them to Duluth, where they disappeared inside a house. He kept an eye on that house all day. I guess there were some real seedy-looking types going in and out. Even back then there were a couple of Indians in the picture. And that really upset Andy.”

  Lance saw that she suddenly realized what she’d just said, and who she was talking to, but he waved his hand dismissively before she could apologize.

  “So what did the two of you do?”

  “Andy said that if Chrissy ever went to see those people again, he’d kill her. He made a horrible scene. But for a while it seemed to have worked. She started going to school again. I checked in regularly with the teachers, and everything was back to normal. After a while she started taking acting classes in the evenings.”

  “Uh-huh. Sure she did,” said Lance.

  “That’s what I thought too,” said Tammy. “So I made up some excuse to call and talk to the drama teacher. It was perfectly legitimate. But something still didn’t seem right. I don’t know. Every mother thinks she knows her own child and can tell when something’s wrong. So one evening I drove over to the school where the drama class was being held. I knocked on the door, and when the teacher appeared, I introduced myself and said that I had to speak to my daughter. He hurried to find her. I almost laughed when I saw the skinny, red-haired girl who was supposed to be Chrissy. But I managed to keep my composure and told the teacher I needed a few minutes alone with her, which of course he agreed to. The girl was so scared she was shaking. I said I’d go straight into that classroom and tell the whole story to the teacher and everyone else if she didn’t tell me where Chrissy was and what she was doing. So she told me Chrissy was out driving around with ‘a guy.’ I demanded to know who he was. That was the first time I heard his name.”

  “Lenny Diver,” said Lance.

  “Well, just Lenny to start with.”

>   “How soon did you figure out that she was taking drugs?”

  “We suspected it right away. Good Lord, we weren’t born yesterday, you know. But it wasn’t until the summer that she started coming home high.”

  “That must have been difficult.”

  Tammy took a deep drag on her cigarette.

  “Difficult is not the word,” she said. “It was sheer hell, to put it bluntly. Nobody should have to fight with their own child. And then there’s Andy. He gets so mad he lays hands on her. She’s had terrible bruises on her arms. He’s even pulled her by the hair.”

  Tammy’s eyes were filled with tears, but Lance restrained himself from trying to comfort her by putting his hand on her knee or arm. He wasn’t sure what might happen if he did.

  “Did you ever meet Lenny Diver?” he asked.

  “No. But after a while I realized that it was more than drugs and getting high that attracted her to him. I actually think he was the love of her life. Whenever she talked about him, her whole face lit up like a star.”

  “So the two of you have talked about him?” said Lance.

  “A couple of times. Just Chrissy and me. Well, Chrissy really did all the talking, and I didn’t interrupt.”

  “What did she say?”

  “Well, what do you think? She was head over heels in love. It was all about how smart and deep he was. That nobody else saw what was inside him. The usual stuff.”

  “And the whole time he was supplying her with drugs?”

  “That bastard,” she muttered.

  “You said she started coming home high.”

  “Uh-huh. The first time was during summer vacation.”

  “So that was about a year before the murder,” said Lance.

  Tammy nodded.

  “What happened during that year?”

  “After she started using drugs openly, we managed to get her to quit. She could see for herself that things were really going downhill. As you know, she’s always gotten good grades and was determined to make something of herself, so she cleaned up her act. Didn’t go out anywhere and worked real hard in school. This was last fall. Right before Christmas we let her go to Duluth to do some shopping since things had been going so well.”

  “And that’s when she started doing drugs again?” said Lance.

  “Uh-huh. And she kept at it until Easter. Ran away from home a few times too.”

  “Why didn’t you or Andy tell me?” he asked. “I could have helped you.”

  “How?” said Tammy hostilely. “Gotten her into a treatment program?”

  “For example, yeah.”

  “But that was exactly what we were trying to avoid. Don’t you see that? We didn’t want her to be officially labeled a drug addict. What opportunities would be open to her if she’s been in rehab? We were thinking of her best interests when we decided not to tell anybody. But around Easter she managed to quit again, and she stayed in her room the whole vacation. She’s a smart girl, and she knows how important it is to finish high school. When Diver was arrested for the murder, it was like a gift from heaven. I thought the whole problem would resolve itself. But now I’m scared she’s on drugs again.”

  “I’m afraid you’re right,” said Lance. “But you said she managed to quit around Easter last year. How long did that last?”

  “I don’t know exactly when she started again, but it was after the murder and Diver was arrested.”

  “So she was clean from Easter up until the murder?”

  “Yes, I’m pretty sure about that. I’ve gotten good at noticing when something is wrong,” said Tammy.

  “On the night of the murder, Chrissy was in Duluth. Is that right?”

  “Uh-huh. She had permission to stay overnight with a girlfriend.”

  “Wasn’t that a bit . . . ?”

  “Irresponsible?” said Tammy. “I thought that if she was never allowed out, she’d go crazy.”

  Again Lance thought about the woman Lenny Diver claimed he’d spent the night with at a motel in Grand Marais. If Chrissy was that woman, then why had he refused to say anything? Of course she was a minor, and that was a serious matter, but considering the situation, he risked being convicted of murder. Was Lenny Diver really prepared to spend the rest of his life in prison in order to spare Chrissy the embarrassment if he told the truth?

  “What do you think happened on that night?” Lance asked.

  “What do you mean?” Tammy seemed nervous.

  “How did Chrissy seem when she came back home?”

  “She went right to bed.”

  “In the middle of the day?”

  “They’d been up late.”

  Tammy took another cigarette out of the pack. She didn’t look like she wanted to say any more about that particular subject.

  “Andy spent that same night at the cabin on Lost Lake,” said Lance. “And the next day he drove all the way to Duluth to pick up Chrissy. Was that something they’d arranged beforehand?”

  “Yes.” Tammy lit her cigarette.

  “Also the fact that he’d stay overnight in the cabin?”

  “No, that was something he decided on impulse. All of a sudden he wanted to go fishing. But how is this going to help us get Diver convicted of murder?” she asked, sounding annoyed.

  “Chrissy is the only one who can tell me about Lenny Diver’s movements,” said Lance. “And the best way to get to her is through you. It’s a matter of proving that Diver was at Baraga’s Cross that night. Or at least make it seem credible. Otherwise, I’m afraid he’ll be out again soon, and then Chrissy is the first person he’ll want to see.”

  Lance noticed that Tammy’s hand was shaking as she put the cigarette to her lips. She held the smoke in her lungs for a long time before she blew it out through the right side of her mouth.

  “Does Chrissy know you’re working on the case?” she asked, plucking a shred of tobacco from her lower lip.

  “No. This is confidential police work,” said Lance. “Nobody can find out about it, least of all the accused man’s girlfriend. You can’t say a word to anyone. Not even to Andy. I can trust you, right?”

  “Of course. I’ll do anything to save my child.”

  Tammy began crying quietly. The tears ran down her cheeks as she continued to smoke.

  “Whenever she’s gone, we jump every time the phone rings,” she said. “We’re so scared that one day she’ll just . . .”

  Lance was on the verge of tears himself.

  “You said she went straight to bed when she and Andy came home the day after the murder,” he ventured cautiously.

  “Uh-huh,” said Tammy, sniffling.

  “What about Andy? How did he seem?”

  “I don’t remember.”

  “Try,” Lance insisted.

  “He was basically just worried about Chrissy. Said we had to make extra sure she didn’t go out at night. From now on, she had to come straight home from school. Things like that. Not really surprising, since a murderer was on the loose.”

  “But wasn’t Andy already like that?” said Lance. “Protective, I mean. She was taking drugs, after all.”

  “Sure, but after the murder it seemed to take on a whole different dimension. He seemed obsessed.”

  And yet there was no murderer on the loose, thought Lance. At least not seen with Andy’s eyes, if he had, in fact, killed Georg Lofthus. But why had he been so concerned about protecting Chrissy after the murder? Somewhere in the back of his mind a thought was struggling to surface and shout its message. Lance could feel it, but he couldn’t manage to bring it all the way up. The thought stayed where it was, down in the dark and the silence.

  “I think maybe that’s all I need to know right now,” he said.

  Tammy didn’t seem convinced.

  “How is this going to prove that Diver was at Baraga’s Cross?” she asked.

  “Well, first I need to go over everything you’ve told me and look for connections. That’s what police work is, you know. We collect i
nformation and look for patterns.”

  He could hear for himself how phony his words sounded.

  “And have you found anything?”

  “Not yet, no.”

  He stood up with an effort as Tammy stayed where she was, smoking her cigarette.

  “By the way, how many guns do you have in the house?” he asked.

  “Just one, as far as I know.”

  “The hunting rifle. Right?”

  “Uh-huh. Why?”

  “I was just wondering,” said Lance as he stood in the hall and put on his jacket.

  When he was ready, he stuck his head in the door to the living room. “Take care. And take good care of that daughter of yours,” he said.

  Tammy nodded from a cloud of smoke.

  He got into his car and discovered a missed call on his cell, which was lying on the passenger seat. On the display it said, “Lakeview.”

  40

  THE TEMPERATURE HAD DROPPED, and along Fifth Avenue in Duluth, the colorful building facades glittered with ice crystals. He drove slowly past his childhood home, which used to be painted blue, but was now a pale yellow. Oddly enough it didn’t bother him that strangers now occupied the house. In fact, it made him happy to know that children lived there. That his old room was in use.

  This was the second time he’d driven past, yet when he came to the little flower shop at the end of the street, he turned around and drove back. He just wanted to put something behind him. Not his childhood, but something else . . . something more . . . He didn’t know exactly what it was, nor did he need to know. Something fell into place as he slowly drove back and forth along his old street. Something drifted to the bottom inside him and settled in the spot where it was supposed to be. It felt right. And it didn’t feel sad. Everything else was sad, but not this. In reality that was the most important reason why he didn’t want to leave Fifth Avenue yet. He’d found a tiny corner of life where things were the way they should be. That was a big surprise, and he realized it would be over as soon as he drove away. This was not a place in Duluth but a place in life, which meant it would be impossible to return.