by Garry Ryan
Lori pointed at her computer screen. “This is kind of weird. Mostly it’s arrogant, but it is weird.”
Lane went around the counter. There was a photo of Cori Pierce leaning against the hood of an Alpha Romeo. Lori’s red fingernail pointed to a post near the top of the social media page.
Cori and I are frightened by the recent spate of murders in this city. Close acquaintances of ours have been killed. I’m convinced this is the work of a serial killer. The police appear totally inept in their handling of these cases. Cori has told me many of her customers — this city’s movers and shakers — are in fear of their lives. How many more of these tragedies will occur before the police finally arrest those responsible?
“When was this posted?” Lane asked.
“About half past two this afternoon.” Lori pointed at the screen.
“Was it posted from the U of C?” The time fits with when Dr. Pierce was in the library.
“Want me to see what else Nebal can find out?”
“Yes, please,” Lane said.
THURSDAY, FEBRUARY 6
chapter 18
Psychiatric Evaluation Ordered for Accused Child Abductor
A judge has granted an application for a psychiatric assessment for Alison Milton. Joseph Lane, Ms. Milton’s lawyer, made the request in court yesterday.
Lane said, “My client has been the victim of relentless abuse. Her polygamist husband Efram Milton’s recent escape from custody is evidence of his total disregard for the law and accountability.”
During the application, Alison Milton testified, “God told me to take the boy from my daughter and bring him to a place where he will be raised by true believers.” In a rambling five-minute speech she also said, “God spoke to me on more than one occasion, telling me the child should be taken to the desert for forty days and forty nights.”
Efram Milton of Paradise, Alberta, initially charged as accomplice in the child abduction, escaped custody yesterday and is being sought by police.
“What’s the plan for Saturday?” Nigel asked.
Lane looked over at his partner wearing a pink shirt. There must be a woman behind this colourful change. “We meet with the team in ten minutes.”
Nine minutes later, the conference room was full. Lane looked around the table. Harper sat at the head in his deputy chief uniform. Lori sat next to him with her laptop ready. Grey-haired and square-jawed McTavish wore his grey-blue tactical unit jumpsuit. Nigel was dwarfed sitting beside McTavish. Next to Lane was a nondescript man wearing a grey shirt and pants. His face was round, his eyes and hair were brown, his height and weight were average. Lane recognized him because he was so unremarkable he could be only one person. “Darren? Do you know everyone here?”
Darren Phelps nodded, smiling.
Lane saw Netsky hovering outside the glass door. Maybe I should invite him in? No way. This has to remain in this room. Netsky was one of Smoke’s good ol’ boys. He’ll repeat whatever he hears, perhaps even leak it to the media. “This time, we may be a step ahead of our killers. We have a location, and indications are another homicide is planned for Saturday night.”
Lori nodded at Lane. “Nebal is tracking the suspects’ social media sites, providing regular updates.”
“The evidence we’ve gathered so far is circumstantial, but the threat is a serious one. Each of you will have a specific task on Saturday.” Lane nodded at Harper.
Harper leaned forward, looking at Phelps. “We need someone on the inside. Phelps, you’ll be working with the caterer serving food. You’ll stay behind inside the residence after everyone else leaves.”
Harper pointed at McTavish. “You will be stationed nearby in case the tactical unit is required. Pay close attention to weather reports, because the forecast shows a cold front heading our way.”
Lane caught Harper’s eye, lifting his chin in Lori’s direction. Harper nodded. “Lori will be working overtime on the weekend. She’ll be monitoring communications and handling any updates. She will centralize, providing backup in case anything goes wrong out on the street.”
Lane said, “Nigel and I will be tracking the movements of our suspects. We believe the pair is responsible for as many as twelve murders. Some of the homicides occurred in Calgary. Others occurred in New York, Toronto, and Playa del Carmen. Indications are there may be five murders planned for this weekend.”
Lori pointed at her computer. “Pierce has posted another comment on social media. He says the police are looking for the public’s help in finding the serial killers responsible for the Randall and Newsome murders because we have no idea who the killers are. He says he and his wife fear for their lives.”
Lane said, “There are also indications the pair plans to leave the country early Sunday.”
Lane nodded at Nigel, who stood to pass out photographs of Cori and Andrew Pierce. “These are our suspects. Their identities and aliases are at the bottom.”
“Any information on the type of weapons they use?” McTavish held up his copies of the pictures of the suspects.
“Fibre’s review of three crime scenes shows that a nine-millimetre handgun was used in at least four of the homicides. He also believes they use a box cutter.” Lane put his hand on the file in front of him. “You all know your jobs. We keep Lori and the deputy chief informed of any developments. They will make sure that information is passed on to all of us.”
Harper stood up. “As always the priority is to protect the public. We need this pair in jail, and we need the evidence to keep them there.”
Lane watched the room empty. He looked through the open door and spotted a man in a tailored grey coat talking to Lori. Lane could see only the man’s back. There’s something familiar there. He sensed confrontation in the man’s posture.
Lori looked around the man, made eye contact with Lane, and leaned her head to the left.
Lane gathered up his folders and walked out the door. The man in the grey coat turned.
Lane said, “Hello, Joseph.”
Joseph didn’t offer his hand. “We need to talk.”
Lane opened his right hand to direct his brother into his office.
Nigel asked, “Anyone want a coffee?”
Out of his left eye, Lane saw Lori take Nigel to one side. Joseph stepped into Lane’s office. The detective followed, closing the door behind him and standing across from his brother, whose silver hair glistened under the fluorescent lights. Lane waited. Have you got some new hair, Joseph, or is that a wig?
“This has to stop now,” Joseph said.
“I agree. Christine deserves to be free to raise her son without fear.” Lane stood in front of the door with his arms crossed, his feet apart.
“I’m not talking about Christine.” Joseph undid the top two buttons of his coat to reveal a white shirt, a red tie, and a navy-blue pinstriped suit.
Then what are you talking about? Lane decided to wait.
“Maybe you think you have a right to do what you’re doing, but that money is my retirement savings. And yes, I’m defending Alison because she’s my sister. She’s your sister, too. Yes, she believes she speaks to God, and she has an unusual lifestyle, but she is our sister.” Joseph undid two more buttons. “It’s hot in here.”
Lane felt a tremor in his hand. He looked down and saw his right hand shaking. “Start at the beginning.” He sat down at his desk. Joseph took off his coat, folded it over his right arm, and sat in Nigel’s chair.
“I have to defend her. She asked me to. I couldn’t say no.”
“How would you feel if she tried to abduct your child or grandchild, then transport the baby to the States where it
could disappear into a polygamist compound?”
Joseph looked back at his brother. His eyes narrowed. “You know this for certain?”
Lane nodded. “Sarah told it to the arresting officers when they interviewed her.”
“They were taking Indiana to the States?”
Lane nodded.
“Efram said that Alison just wanted the baby —” Joseph looked sideways at Lane “— to have a good home.”
“That’s what Christine wants, and she’s Indiana’s mother. She’s also the person who escaped Paradise because she saw her name on the bishop’s fuck chart.” Lane studied his brother’s reaction.
Joseph leaned back in his chair then took a breath. “Christine told you that?”
“That’s right. The excommunication happened after she left. She escaped Paradise and came to you, remember?” It still hurts to know Christine went to you first. And it still galls me that you turned her away, Joseph.
“Margaret said she couldn’t stay. I wasn’t there.”
And your wife must have said it was okay to defend Alison against Christine or we wouldn’t be here. “Christine, her child, and the child’s father deserve the right to live free from fear.”
“And I want you to stop donating my money to charity.”
“I know nothing about that.”
Joseph stared back at his brother. “You must have an idea.”
Lane stared back at his brother. “Can you guarantee that Christine, Dan, and Indy will be left alone?”
“Okay. If that’s what it takes, you have my guarantee. I will make sure Alison will leave them alone. Milton has other things to worry about now, and the word is our sister’s being excommunicated.” Joseph stood and began to put on his coat. “The judge agreed to my request for a psychiatric evaluation for our sister. I think the doctor’s report will strengthen her case.” He walked to the door, putting his hand on the door handle. “Consider this information an act of good faith. I will hold you personally responsible if more of my assets go missing.” Joseph took his time buttoning his coat, opening the door, and stepping out.
Lane turned to his computer, tapping the mouse. His map of the murder suspects stared back at him, but he didn’t see it.
“Here’s your coffee.” Nigel set a mug down in front of his partner, then sat at his desk. “Who was that?”
“My brother.” Lane sensed the stillness in Nigel, the expectation. “Two things.”
Nigel sipped his coffee, watching Lane.
“Our first priority is to prevent the Pierces from hurting anyone else.”
Nigel nodded.
“The second is whoever is transferring money out of my brother’s accounts is going to stop.” Lane looked at Nigel. “Understood?”
Nigel took another sip before nodding.
Nigel found Anna in her library chair. She had on a pair of black pants and high faux-leather boots. Her blonde hair was red tipped, a shade darker than her red sweater. She flipped up the lenses of her glasses to watch his approach. He sat down across from her. “I’m glad you wore pink.” She pointed at his shirt.
“I took your suggestion about wearing more colour.”
“The library closes at nine.”
Nigel reached into his pocket, lifted out his phone, and glanced at the time. “We’ve got ten minutes.”
“Okay.” She reached for her iPad, set it on her lap, and crossed her legs.
“Can you back off on the lawyer?”
Anna shrugged. “No problem. Can I still go after Milton and the Pierces?”
Nigel nodded, then asked, “What did you find out about the Pierces?”
“He’s writing stuff on social media sites. She’s withdrawing money from several accounts.”
Nigel nodded. “You’re sure it’s him?”
“Of course. I hacked his personal computer. Then I went into his encrypted files where he keeps some original documents.” She handed him her iPad. “Take a look at what I found. He’s planning some blogs. He uses a phony e-mail account to send them back and forth so he can deny they’re his.”
Studying Your Prey
The Murderer’s Lifestyle
Hiding in Plain Sight
Knowing When to Stop
Creating a New Identity
Cash Is King for a Killer
Creating a Diversion
Physical Fitness Regime
Smuggling Weapons Across the Border
Living Off Investments
Nigel handed the iPad back, looking at her for a moment. I can’t use this information as evidence. “Those two are very dangerous.”
Anna said, “He and his wife are total narcissists.”
“They might come after you.” Nigel felt a wave of dread wash over him.
“They have no idea I’m accessing their personal information.”
“Can you wait until Sunday to go after their money?”
Anna nodded. Her entire upper body emphasized the affirmation. She smiled. “I have a plan.”
Christine and Indiana were waiting in the living room for Lane when he walked in the front door just after ten o’clock. He could hear Indiana sucking and sighing as he fed at Christine’s breast. She had a blanket overtop the baby’s head. Indiana had his ankles crossed. Lane asked, “Where is everyone?”
“Asleep.” She looked at her son. “He’s done nothing but eat and poop all day long.” Indiana farted and sighed, as if to point out he didn’t want to be left out of the conversation.
Lane smiled, took off his coat, hung it up, and kicked off his boots, feeling the fatigue loosen its grip when he saw the smile on Christine’s face.
“Sylvia phoned.” Christine adjusted her breast under the blanket.
You’re a natural with that baby. “Tommy Pham’s wife?”
“She calls herself his assistant. She’s very nice. She said my mom is going to undergo a psychiatric examination.”
“I heard that too.”
“From who?”
“My brother.”
“Joseph came to see you?”
Lane heard disbelief in her voice. “Surprised me too.”
“Do you think this means my mom is crazy?”
“Mental illness would certainly explain some of her behaviour. I’m just not sure what it will mean in the long run.”
“Could it be a step in the right direction, though?”
Lane nodded. “It looks like Alison is excommunicated, and Milton is on the run.”
“This is a good thing?”
“I hope so. The problem is I’ve learned not to trust my brother or my sister.”
“Me too.” Christine smiled as Indiana wrapped a hand around her forefinger.
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 7
chapter 19
“Donna Liu called. She asked you to meet her at this address at eleven o’clock.” Lori leaned to one side of her computer so she could see him and held up a piece of paper.
Lane stopped, backtracked, picked up the piece of paper, and read the address. “It’s her house.”
“She said she’d be there at that time. Something about waiting for contactors, taking her son to the doctor, and going to the bank. It sounded like she was in a rush.”
Lane stepped into his office, spotted Nigel behind his computer. “Grab your coat. We gotta go.”
Five minutes later they drove past the Bow Tower, a blue glass building shaped like a wave with crisscrossing metal beams reaching over two hundred metres. It appeared to be tickling the
belly of the chinook arch. The warm winds had turned snow, ice, sand, and salt into a kind of brown soup coating city roads and sidewalks.
“I need to let you know about a few things.” Nigel concentrated on the traffic, anticipating the movements of an SUV crabbing across three lanes of traffic. It hit a patch of brown snow. A brown wave of the soupy mixture hit their windshield. Nigel turned on the wipers.
Lane looked left at his partner. “All right.”
“I’ve know Anna for years. She was always kind of out there. We knew she was smart. She used to drive her parents and the teachers crazy, because she would never hand in any assignments. I asked her about it one time, and she told me handing stuff in for marks was against her ethics. Then she got into trouble because she thought a teacher was unfair to one of the kids in her class. Anna hacked into the system’s computers and changed the kid’s mark. One of the other kids found out and told someone. They caught Anna, and she was suspended for a week. She was our hero from then on. I went to her after my dad killed my mom, because I knew he’d hidden money away in various accounts. I didn’t want to live with my uncle and aunt, and I needed money. Anna agreed to get the money for me. We worked out a business arrangement. She got a percentage, and I got enough money to keep me going for at least fifteen years. After we graduated, we kept in touch.”
Lane looked down along 6th Avenue. “How did she graduate if she never handed anything in?”
Nigel smiled. “At the time, provincial exams counted for fifty percent of our grade twelve marks. She got one-hundred percent on every one of her exams.”
“She went to university?”
Nigel shook his head. “She went freelance. She tracks down information about various political and financial institutions. She calls it massaging investments. Prides herself with getting in and out without anyone being the wiser. Again, it’s all guided by her ethics.”
