Shallow End

by Brenda Chapman

  The office was empty and she left the overhead lights off, crossing to her desk and turning on her desk lamp. She took a while to retrieve the videos they’d made of Jane’s interviews but was able to find them filed in the common drive. She turned up the volume to listen for every inflection in Jane’s voice while she studied her facial expressions. The camera in the interview room was mounted high on the wall and had captured Jane’s every move like a bug under a microscope. When she’d viewed them a second time, she took out the recording that Marci had made that evening and listened to it several times. Once satisfied that she’d gotten all she could out of the tapes, she slumped back in her chair and closed her eyes to think.

  We’ve been looking at this all wrong. The know-

  ledge made her weary. If she was right, Jane Thompson would look even guiltier of Devon’s murder. Kala had found herself drawn to the silent strength of the woman and a part of her had been hoping that she hadn’t resorted to revenge and killed Devon Eton with no regard to the consequences. She was going to have to face the likely possibility.

  Kala opened her eyes and checked her watch. It was nearly midnight and much too late to come up with a plan. She got out of her chair and grabbed her jacket from the desk where she’d tossed it. Long past time to head home to Taiku and get him outside for his nighttime run.

  Her cell rang as she was pulling into the driveway. Kala threw the truck into park and felt around for her phone, which she’d tossed on the seat next to her. She checked the number and thought it looked familiar. “Stonechild here.”

  “Kala, it’s Fiona.”

  “Fiona? I can hardly hear you.”

  “’S … me, all right. I thought you should know I’m leaving. Four months in Calgary.”

  Her speech was slurred and Kala was having trouble making sense of what she was saying. “Why are you calling me now?”

  “I want you to stop chasing my husband. We’re getting back together….” Her voice trailed away.

  “There’s nothing going on between us. How many times do I have to tell you?” Kala wondered if she had something written on her forehead that only Fiona could see, or perhaps it was her highly tuned radar for female competition, because Kala had never knowingly given her cause to be jealous. “Have you been drinking, Fiona? Where are you?”

  “I love him,” Fiona said and broke into noisy, sloppy sobs. “I need him,” she wailed between hiccups.

  “Go to bed and sleep it off,” Kala said. “Things will look brighter in the morning.” Or not, if you have a hangover. “I’m signing off.”

  Kala disconnected, the words, “Need you to stay away,” playing in her ear. Just what she wanted to hear at the end of a long day.

  She stepped out of the cab of the truck and onto the ground. The wind had come up and she could hear waves crashing onto the shoreline even from this distance. The clouds were scudding across the sky overhead but not yet thick enough to block the stars completely. A crescent moon cast light onto the lake. She shivered inside her jacket and thought about skipping the walk with Taiku, but knew she couldn’t after he’d been stuck inside all day. She’d take her penance for neglecting him and take him for a long walk the length of Old Front Road. Perhaps, the exercise would clear her head and help her to fall asleep when she finally crawled into bed.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE

  Rouleau felt as if the energy had been sucked from the room as he surveyed the troops at the daily morning meeting. It was already October 12, nine days into the investigation with no breakthroughs. Heath was getting anxious and calling nightly for updates. Everyone was in their accustomed place, faces tired while their hands were busy fiddling with cellphones and iPads. He needed to provide some motivation, but his energy level was lower than theirs. He’d been having trouble concentrating and difficulty caring about work. He wondered if he needed a holiday, or perhaps retirement, to let someone with more drive lead the team.

  “Right,” he began, tucking his thoughts away for the moment, “I have a meeting with Heath shortly but wanted to hear developments. Who wants to go first?”

  Woodhouse volunteered but had little new to impart. Bedouin recounted the calls from the information line that they’d followed up on but had led nowhere. Gundersund reported that Forensics hadn’t come up with anything enlightening on Devon’s computer.

  Rouleau looked over at Stonechild. She was as tired-looking as the rest of them, but her eyes were alert and watchful. He followed the direction of her gaze as she tracked around the room. Woodhouse was reading something on his phone, Bedouin and Morrison had their heads together looking at a sheet of paper, and Bennett had gotten up to refill his coffee cup. Gundersund was looking down at his iPad and reading silently with his lips moving. “Anything?” Rouleau asked Stonechild, trying to forget for the moment that he was late for his meeting with Heath.

  She shook her head. “I’m working on a few things but nothing worth reporting yet.”

  Gundersund raised his head. “Is this something I should know about, partner?” He emphasized the last word and a look passed between them.

  “I can fill you in, but I wouldn’t say that I’ve uncovered anything you need to know.”

  Rouleau watched the two of them locking eyes for a moment before he said, “I’ll leave you to it then. Keep plugging away everyone. Something is bound to break before much longer.” He said the words with false certainty because he knew the longer this dry spell went without a decent lead, the tougher the case would become. He had no desire to face Heath now with so little progress.

  On his way past Vera’s desk, he found her by the filing cabinet with a handful of documents. She smiled at him and walked over to join him. Her eyes were sparkling and her face glowed more than usual. “Have you some good news?” he asked.

  “Just that I’m looking forward to the performance tonight.” Her eyes dimmed as she looked him over. “You’ve forgotten, haven’t you?”

  He reached back in his memory and landed on the benefit ticket she’d given him the week before. “Of course not.” He wondered if his father would go on such short notice. He couldn’t think who else to give it to. He added, “I won’t let it go to waste.”

  “Perfect.” She seemed uncertain but the smile was back. “Heath said to show you right in. He’s scheduled another media scrum after lunch.”

  “He’s not going to be pleased to find that we haven’t any new information for the public.”

  “Oh, I wouldn’t think that would worry him too much. He always shows well, regardless of how little substance there is in his briefings.” She flashed a Mona Lisa smile before returning to her filing and left him to make his own way into Heath’s inner sanctum.

  Heath was standing by the window when Rouleau entered. “Well?” he asked, turning. “Anything worth going to the media?”

  Rouleau remained standing. “I’d say not yet, although we could make another appeal for people to come forward with information. It might be time.”

  Heath ran a hand through his curls. “I suppose I could have Vera arrange to get the parents in again for another public plea. You’re off the hook, by the way. Ingrid cancelled tomorrow night’s party.”

  Rouleau took a second to remember what Heath was speaking about. Another invitation that had slipped his mind. “That’s too bad,” he said. “I was looking forward to it. I imagine you’ll let Laney know?”

  “Of course. Ingrid isn’t feeling up to entertaining.” He turned back to the window and Rouleau took this as his cue to leave.

  Gundersund was waiting for an opening to speak with Stonechild about what she was working on. Since the morning meeting, she’d been on the phone and unavailable. He knew too well that her preference was to work alone. He’d thought she was finally coming around to the idea of being his partner, but obviously not entirely. She’d left the office an hour earlier to pick up sandwiches, and he planned to pr
od her into a conversation over lunch at their desks.

  “Hey, Gundersund.”

  He looked over to see Tanya Morrison walking toward him, a smile on her face and a paper waving in her hand. She dropped into the chair next to his desk. “I think we’ve caught a break.” She handed him the paper. “Narendra Ahujra, desk clerk at the Limestone Spa Hotel, remembers seeing Devon Eton the afternoon that he went missing.”

  “At last.” Gundersund grinned back at her. “I could kiss you right now.”

  “I know, aye? I can’t tell you how pleased I am to know that a week answering nutter calls has led to this gem.”

  “Is Narendra Ahujra working today?”

  “His shift starts at three. I told him that a couple of detectives would be by then. I hope that’s okay.”

  “That gives us an hour to finish up here and get to the hotel.”

  Stonechild sauntered into the office carrying a couple of sandwiches and a tray with two coffees. “What’s going on?” she asked as she set everything on her desk.

  “A lead.” He handed her the paper. “Narendra Ahujra saw Devon at the Limestone Spa Hotel after school the day he went missing. We’ll head over to speak with him at three.”

  “Hurray.” Stonechild returned their smiles with one of her own. “We needed a break.” She waved goodbye to Morrison before sitting down at her desk and saying to Gundersund, “Vera caught me in the hall and Rouleau needs some information from you before a media briefing. Can you give him a call? Here’s your sandwich and coffee.”

  He accepted both and pulled out his phone. “He’ll be happy to hear about this tip. We should head over to the hotel around twenty to three. I don’t mind driving.”

  “I plan to take my truck so I’ll meet you there.”

  Exasperation made him say, “For God’s sake, Stonechild, it won’t kill you to share a ride.”

  She went still. “I have to be somewhere right after the interview.” She met his stare and looked away.

  He knew something was bothering her but had no idea what. The evasiveness in her eyes made him cautious and bite back what he was about to say. Instead he asked, “How about meeting up at the Merchant after you get finished with your appointment?”

  Her eyes met his again. “I really can’t today. Rain check?”

  “Sure.” He lifted the phone to his ear while she opened a file on her computer and began reading at the same time as she bit into her sandwich. What is going on with you? He tried to set aside his unease while giving Rouleau his full attention. When he finished the call, Stonechild was gone from her desk and hadn’t returned when it was time to leave for the hotel. He sent a text to confirm that she would meet him in the Limestone Spa parking lot and set out. By the time he reached his car, she’d texted that she was on her way as well.

  Narendra Ahujra was working behind the front desk when Gundersund arrived at the hotel at quarter past three. Stonechild was already waiting for him by the front entrance. Ahujra was checking in a woman and they waited for him in the lobby while he completed the transaction. The lobby walls were tropical terracotta, the floor pale brown tile. Two turquoise-coloured couches were arranged in front of a white plaster and stone fireplace, and they took positions kitty corner to each other.

  A compact man with a fringe of greying hair and a humourless face, Narendra arrived ten minutes later and sat next to Gundersund facing Stonechild. He took the photo of Devon that Gundersund handed him and confirmed that this was the young man he’d seen the Monday before.

  “He was here close to seven o’clock that night.”

  “Was he with anyone?”

  “He was alone but he took the elevator to one of the rooms.”

  Stonechild asked, “Do you know who he was visiting?”

  “We had an IT conference going on that week with the rooms booked on the third floor and he went to one of their rooms. I know because I was on the elevator with him on the ride up. I had a customer phone down because his room card was not working so I ran a new one up to him. This young man got off on the same floor but he went one way and I went to the other end of the hall.”

  “IT?”

  “Sorry, information technology. Computers. People were here from all over Canada. They used one of the larger conference rooms Monday and Tuesday until late afternoon.”

  Gundersund asked, “Could you give us a list of names and addresses for the guests staying in those rooms?”

  Narendra nodded. “I can do better than that. I saw which room this young man entered and I checked the name of the occupant. My manager said that it would be fine if I co-operated with your inquiry.” He returned to the desk and retrieved a print out that he handed to Gundersund. “I cannot tell you why this boy made me curious except that he would not meet my eyes and then I had a memory of seeing him in the hotel one other time, I think it was in late May or early June.”

  “What was he doing here then?”

  “He was in the lobby, sitting for some time in that striped chair over there near the fireplace. After half an hour had passed, I asked if I could help him but he told me that he was waiting for someone who was late. I cannot tell you what made me think he was out of place, but after all these years working in the hotel industry, one gets a sense. We run a clean, family hotel and are always on the lookout for … the unsavoury. I didn’t see him leave that time because I got busy.”

  Stonechild looked unconvinced. She said, “Surely Devon wouldn’t have stood out so clearly after such brief encounters. You must see thousands of people come and go in this hotel.”

  Narendra shifted from one foot to the other, appearing to be struggling with how much to reveal. “The day he was so long in the lobby, one of the other clerks pointed him out to me as the boy who had the affair with his teacher. She was in his class at school. Naturally, I checked him out. When he sat in that chair for such a long time, I wondered what he was up to and so I approached him. We run a clean establishment, Officer.”

  “So you said already.” Stonechild didn’t look impressed with what Narendra was implying about Devon.

  Narendra forged on, perhaps emboldened by her skepticism and feeling a need to convince her other-

  wise. “Well, he was known to like older women, wasn’t he? At the risk of being indelicate, some women will pay for an experience with a young man. He was good-looking and carried himself with a certain arrogance. He was already corrupted, Officer.”

  “Do you think that’s what he was up to in your hotel? Soliciting older women for sex?”

  Narendra pursed his lips. “That’s not for me to say.”

  “So no proof or complaints.”

  “No.”

  “Well thanks for your time,” Gundersund said, shooting Stonechild a “let’s wrap this up” look.

  They didn’t speak until they were outside the hotel standing under the protection of the covered entrance. A wind was whipping the flags atop the buttress so that they snapped like sheets on a clothesline. Gundersund thought it might be time to pull out a warmer jacket.

  “Already corrupted?” Stonechild said as if she couldn’t believe that Narendra had had the auda-

  city to say the words. “The man made himself judge and jury.”

  “He certainly held Devon’s past against him.”

  “To be fair, Narendra has a job to do.” She did up her jacket. “Keeping the hotel clean and all. Do you think he might be right about Devon being here for unsavoury business?” She used her fingers to make quotation marks around the last two words.

  “It’s a possibility, but not high on my list. He was visiting a man in the IT field, which could be related to his father’s business. Maybe, he was meeting up with his father in one of the rooms. The more I think about it, the more plausible it is that Mitchell Eton was at the conference.”

  “Then why didn’t Mitchell tell us about meeti
ng Devon here the two times we questioned him?”

  Gundersund was silent. He checked the paper that Narendra had handed him. “The room that Devon entered that day was occupied by one Ivan Bruster and his address is in Ajax. I’d like to question him face to face. What’s your gut tell you?”

  “The same. I think we should hold off talking to Mitchell until we’ve had a chance to grill Bruster. We don’t want Bruster tipped off that we’re coming. It’s just after four o’clock and I have an appointment. Want to clear it with Rouleau and take a drive to Ajax tomorrow morning?”

  “Yeah, I’m heading back to the station so I’ll talk to Rouleau. I’ll text the time that I’ll pick you up tomorrow. My turn to drive.” Gundersund waited for her to give him grief and was relieved when she accepted his plan without comment.

  CHAPTER TWENTY-TWO

  Caroline Russell arranged to drop off Dawn at the Starbucks at the bottom of Princess Street. Kala arrived a few minutes early and scouted inside the coffee shop for Dawn before going back outside to wait on the sidewalk. She was nervous and apprehensive about how the visit would go, oblivious to the wind and cold swirling around her. The last time they’d been together was when social worker Tamara Jones had taken Dawn away from the house on Old Front Road. Kala had pretended that she was in agreement with Dawn’s move to a foster home because she’d had no choice. Tamara held all the cards and she wasn’t bending. Kala would never forget the betrayed look in Dawn’s eyes when Kala told her to leave.

  She spotted Dawn before Dawn saw her. She’d grown taller and leaner over the almost five months of separation. Nearly fourteen and so like her mother, Rose, at the same age; so much so that for one brief moment Kala almost believed it was Rose. Dawn’s hair was plaited in two long braids and she wore a red jacket and jeans. When she lifted her gaze from the sidewalk and saw Kala, a series of conflicting emotions crossed her face in the space of a few seconds. The last was wary and closed off as she slowed her steps. Kala waited for Dawn to reach her.