The River Killers

by Bruce Burrows

  “Just who the hell do you think you are and what the hell do you think gives you the right to put me through what I’ve just been through and why the hell should I even be talking to you and you better get the hell over here ASAP.” Click.

  “I’m on my way.” I hung up and dialed a cab. When it arrived, I hugged Ollie and Oshie and thanked them profusely. Then I set out to confront a killer.

  When we got to the police building, I paid the substantial cab fare with my credit card and hurried into the lobby. Tommy and Louise were waiting for me. “Tommy, do you mind if I have a word with Louise?”

  He made a be-my-guest gesture. “I’ll be in my office.”

  As soon as Louise closed the door behind us, I made a pre-emptive strike. I clutched her urgently and pressed my mouth to hers. She did not object greatly. Indeed, she seemed to respond in like manner. I pulled her closer and she moaned quietly as her hands clasped tightly on the back of my neck. The embrace ended with me breathing gently into the curve of her neck.

  “I’m sorry, Louise. I didn’t have a lot of choices.”

  She pushed me away gently and sat down behind her desk. “Something changed. What?”

  “Four nights ago, I had a call from a dead man. That wasn’t Crowley’s body in his float house; it was our bad guy, AKA ‘The Farmer,’ or at least one of them.”

  Louise groaned and closed her eyes. “Rookie mistake number one. Don’t assume anything. But the dead guy’s prints were on the gun?”

  “He’d handled it two nights before. So those prints matched the body, and all the unknown prints were actually Crowley’s. And the reason neither of our bad guys showed up on DFO employment records is that they were officially still BC government employees, on loan to DFO.”

  I spent the next ten minutes relating everything Crowley had told me and giving a brief rendition of the events of the morning.

  “So Crowley actually is dead now. I don’t think there’s any reason to change the initial analysis of the case you made in Bella Bella, if you know what I’m saying.”

  “Thanks, Danny. But I’ve got to tell Tommy, at least. He’s our partner. After that, we’ll see how it plays out. I’m not too worried about looking bad, compared to some of the screwups my colleagues have made.” She paused and looked at me intently. “Tell me again how you got out of the bottom of that boat. You said the lid was on?”

  I’d glossed over some of the particulars, but now she forced me into a more detailed description. When I finished she leaned back in her chair and breathed deeply. “Danny Swanson. Danny Swanson. Danny bloody Swanson.” After a pause she stood up, and said, “Let’s go see Tommy.”

  Tommy’s office didn’t contain much of interest except him. He was on the phone as we entered, listening intently while scrolling through his e-mail. He gave some instructions to someone he called Wingy and slammed the receiver down. There was a brief pause while he processed whatever had just transpired. Then he turned to us. “Welcome back, Danny. I just know you’ve got an interesting story for us.”

  So I went over it again. When I got to the part about the misidentification of the body in Crowley’s float house, he gave a sympathetic look to Louise, but made no comment. And then the crucial bit, the part that I hadn’t told Louise yet. “And I know why Billy was killed.” Tommy looked up, and Louise uncrossed her legs and leaned forward. “Crowley made an offhand comment that didn’t register with me right away. When I was bobbing around in the water, my mind went off on its own and made a connection that I’ve been trying to make for weeks. Crowley casually mentioned that when the rabbits died, they went into convulsions. Christine had reminded me at the party that that’s how Billy’s cat had died, the day he disappeared.”

  Louise frowned. “But wasn’t the cat back in Sointula? It was nowhere near the West Vancouver lab.”

  “Yeah, but it had access to one of the mutant fish, Igor. When Igor’s picture showed up in the DFO database, I could see that something had chewed on its tail since I had last seen it. I knew that when Billy got home from the pub, the night before he left for Vancouver, he was definitely not sober. I figure, he forgot to put Igor in the freezer. The cat was hungry, chewed off a piece of Igor’s tail, and paid the price for it. Billy probably noticed in the morning that the cat had chewed on Igor, but he wouldn’t have thought anything of it.”

  “I’m starting to put this together,” Tommy said. “But how did Billy know his cat had died?”

  “Christine left him a message,” I said. “When Billy found out his cat had died, he put two and two together, and realized that these fish, which DFO had released into the wild, were poisonous. So when he got to the lab, he raised shit.”

  “But not right away,” I said. “Crowley saw him when he first arrived at the lab, but didn’t say anything about Billy making wild accusations. I figure that after Crowley gives him the brush-off, Billy gets in his car and carries on to Vancouver. At some point, he checks his messages, realizes what exactly is going on, and drives back to the lab. Crowley is gone by this time, but Griffith is there. Billy confronts him, and tells him what kind of a DFO asshole he is, and what he’s going to do about it. Griffith can see the project, his career, his entire life going up in smoke. So he kills Billy to keep him quiet.”

  “That’s a lot of suppositions, Danny,” Louise said thoughtfully. “Logical, yeah. But what kind of physical evidence is there? We’re going to need something if we’re going to tie this to Griffith.”

  “That could be difficult,” I conceded. “We have a shortage of bodies. I don’t think we’re going to find Billy after eight years. Les Jameson was the next to die and the Coast Guard couldn’t find him after searching for two weeks. Then, supposedly Crowley was killed but it was really one of the Farmers, and then Crowley does get killed a month later, but we don’t have either of those bodies. All we’ve got is Reginald Sanderson, who died of natural causes in a slightly unnatural way.”

  Tommy and Louise analyzed and debated and reviewed options with considerable energy. I, on the other hand, was fading fast. The adrenaline had burned off long ago and I was forcing myself to concentrate.

  “What a fuckin’ horror show,” Tommy said, drumming his fingers on his desk. “I can’t even imagine what the charges should be if we do nail the bastard. Experimenting with undue care and attention? Leaving the scene of an environmental disaster?”

  Louise looked at me. “We’ll get him, Danny. We’ve come too far to let him slip off the hook. But right now I’ve got to get word back to Bella Bella to avoid eating any sockeye. They might have caught some of those normal-looking males. I’ll phone Rose Wilson at the health center. She’ll pass the word.”

  “Jesus, you’re right.” I was jolted out of my fatigue. “Tell them not to eat any sockeye—canned, smoked, frozen, or fresh.”

  “It’ll be tough. Louise said. “Sockeye is such a major part of their diet.”

  “Well, tell them to feed a bit to a cat first. That’s how people used to test clams for red tide.”

  “It seems a bit hard on cats.”

  “It’s their evolutionary niche.”

  “Bit of a comedown from being worshipped by the Egyptians.” Tommy said. “But let’s concentrate on what we’re going to do next.”

  I was drained, physically and mentally, and probably not at my strategic best. But I was clear about one thing: “It’s time to take this to Griffith. He’s been operating in the shadows for too long, pulling the strings of his various puppets, keeping his hands clean. Now it’s him and us, no one to cover for him, and that’s a completely different ball game than he’s used to.”

  “So what’s your plan?” Louise asked.

  “Have you got the resources to put a tail on him? Twenty-four-seven, without him knowing it?”

  Louise deferred to Tommy. “I suppose we could pull something together.”

  “All right. It occurred to me that Griffith might not know Crowley is dead. When Sanderson phoned him from the lab, he ju
st said he’d got both of us: no mention of blasting Crowley. And if he didn’t phone again from the boat, then Griffith has no idea Crowley is dead. I’m going to go and see Griffith. Tell him we’ve got Crowley and he’s threatening to roll over on Griffith. Would Mr. Griffith like to be of assistance to us, say, in the death of Billy Bradley?”

  “But he’s not going to confess to killing Billy,” Louise said.

  “Yeah, but if he tries to pin it on Crowley, he might let something slip.At the very least, we’ll scare him and he might do something stupid.” There was not a single cheer of congratulations or shout of acclamation. “Look guys, it’s all we’ve got. Apply a stimulus and observe the results.”

  Finally, Louise shrugged. “Okay, set up a meeting. You can wear a wire. And Jerome goes with you.”

  “I’ll meet him in his office. He’s not going to kill me on DFO premises. It’s against policy.”

  “Jerome goes with you. Two of them.” I started to protest, but Louise was adamant. “They can wait outside his office, but they’ll be within fifty feet of you. That’s the way it’s going to be.”

  And that’s the way it was. I phoned DFO and was put through to Griffith’s secretary. He was in the building that morning but was unavailable until after lunch. “And who is this please?”

  “Torchie LaFlame. Tell him I’ve had my last operation and now we can be together.” I hung up. “I’ll see him right after lunch.”

  “Good timing,” Tommy said. “It gives me a chance to organize the surveillance.”

  I stood up and tried to ignore the concern on Louise’s face.

  “Are you ready for this, Danny? You’ve had kind of a rough night.”

  “I was born ready. However, I do have time for a nap.”

  Two hours later, we collected an additional Jerome and headed for DFO HQ. I sat in the backseat and practiced deep breathing. I got Jerome to stop and grab a large coffee for me. By the time we got to the DFO building, I’d almost forgotten that I’d spent much of the previous night floundering around in the Strait of Georgia instead of snoozing.

  We took the elevator to the twelfth floor and walked down the hall to Griffith’s office suite. When we entered, his secretary looked at us from the other side of the counter, and I inquired politely as to whether or not Mr. Griffith was in.

  “Yes, he’s in, but I’m afraid you don’t have an appointment. You can’t see him without an appointment. Regulations.”

  “People are more important than regulations. It’s time everyone in this building realized that.” I opened the gate in the counter and started down the hall to Fleming’s office. The secretary was making alarmed noises but she stopped when Jerome flashed their badges.

  I didn’t knock. I entered Griffith’s office, where he was sitting at his desk, no papers in front of him, just sitting there looking serious and important.

  “Mr. Swanson, I’m afraid I can’t talk to you now. I’m waiting for a very important call.”

  “Reginald Sanderson won’t be reporting in.”

  He considered this. “That’s unfortunate.”

  “Especially for him. Fleming, may I call you Flem? I’ve taken a real interest in your career lately. Why, just last night I was having a chat with your old colleague, Alistair Crowley. You know of course that he survived his encounters, first with Jerry Mathias, and last night with poor Reggie. Crowley was able to fill me in on many of your little secrets. I also have his computer files and an amusing video that he shot of you at the lab, doing deceptive things with dead rabbits. How do you think the Minister will react to your unorthodox experiments?”

  “You amuse me, Mr. Swanson. But there are two things that insulate me from your juvenile threats: important friends and a very good pension.”

  “Fleming, you’re just going through the motions. Crowley is ready to deal with us. We already know everything about Project Chimera. But there’s one little matter that you could help us with. In 1986, a person named Billy Bradley showed up at the lab with one of your mutant sockeye, and then disappeared. Crowley is hinting that you killed him.”

  “Crowley is an insubordinate peon! He wasn’t there that night.” He stopped suddenly.

  “And you know that because you were?”

  “I need to talk to Crowley.”

  “That would be difficult.” I didn’t tell him why.

  “If you won’t let me talk to Crowley, you need to give him a message. Tell him there’s been an administrative change. Operational control has been delegated upwards.”

  “That sounds to me like you’re copping out.”

  He didn’t reply and I didn’t relent. “We know you faked the results of the toxicity test. You allowed poisonous sockeye to be released into the wild. I wonder how many people have died from eating them.” There was still no response. I tilted my head back and stared at him. He sat motionless with his hands flat on the desk in front of him. He was still staring at them when I left. The two Jeromes followed me out and escorted me back to the car.

  I phoned Louise. “You get that?”

  “He didn’t give much away.”

  “Yeah, but he’s worried. He wants to talk to Crowley.”

  She replied, “Let him worry. The more the better. Tommy’s got him covered like a blanket. If he moves, we’ll know where, when, and how.”

  “So now we wait.”

  “Right.”

  “Shall we wait at my place or yours?”

  “I don’t want to come between you and Jerome,” she said. “But I’ll meet you for a drink after work. Lounge of the Hotel Georgia.” She hung up.

  I turned to Jerome. “We’ve got some time to kill. What do you want to do?”

  “Let’s not go for sushi,” one of them said petulantly.

  Before I could make a clever reply, Tommy’s voice came over the radio. “He’s on the move. In a cab, south on Burrard. I’ll get the drop-off.”

  Twenty-four

  I hoped that Griffith had finally cracked. We had scared him out of the office and into the field. Now we’d see how he would handle himself in the real world. Tommy came back on the radio. “He’s going to the airport, south terminal.”

  I grabbed the mike. “He’s heading for Bella Bella. We need to beat him there. You guys got air support?”

  Louise came on. “The next flight will only get him to Port Hardy this evening. He’ll have to overnight and then catch the next Bella Bella flight at eleven tomorrow morning. Our pilot is on standby and we can take off in an hour.

  “Okay. I’ll see you there. We can wait until Griffith checks in, just to confirm my instinct is right, and then we’ll take off and beat him up there.”

  “Danny, why is he going to Bella Bella?”

  I didn’t have to think. It was as if Griffith had suddenly lost his cloak of bureaucratic invisibility and I could see him clearly for the first time. “They’ve destroyed most of the physical evidence from Project Chimera, and most of the human players are dead. There’s one last thing that could link him to a crime, not the murders, but the release of poisonous fish into the environment.”

  There was a pause while Louise engaged in the same logical exercise that I had just completed. She didn’t break a sweat. “Crowley had been helping Rose Wilson update and digitize the Heiltsuk health records. Why? He wasn’t exactly a public service kind of guy.”

  “You’ve got it. Part of Crowley’s job, aside from monitoring all the field data, was to see if local consumers were suffering any health effects from the mutant fish. They played this charade in the name of responsibility, even though Griffith and Crowley both knew these fish could kill people.”

  I could hear the disbelief in her voice. “And Griffith is worried that Crowley found evidence in the Heiltsuk health center records that people were being affected. He’s going to destroy those records.”

  “Yes, and now’s our chance to get him. He’s out of the big corner office and running around with no protective cover.”

  “I�
�m going to phone Rose Wilson and tell her we’ll need to meet with her. She’ll want to know why we want to poke around in her records.”

  “Okay. See you at the airport.”

  The RCMP transportation budget had obviously been cut. I was expecting a sleek and shiny jet but all they had was a single-engine prop job with RCMP markings: sort of a semi-stealth Cessna. However, the pilot wore the approved Top Gun shades, which enabled him to get us to Bella Bella without incident.

  Louise had arranged to meet Rose Wilson first thing in the morning. There was nothing for us to do except retire to Louise’s cozy little house and make love by the light of the fire. In the morning, we sipped coffee and gazed appreciatively at each other. Finally, Louise stood up and moved behind me to nuzzle my neck, which I found extremely pleasant.

  “It’s time to go and meet Rose.”

  “She’s going to want an explanation of the eat-no-sockeye edict. Also, why Griffith wants access to her records, and why she can’t let him anywhere near them. I think we have to tell her pretty much the whole story.”

  Louise nodded. “You’re right. And Rose is well versed in confidentiality concerns, so she won’t blab anything she doesn’t have to.”

  We met Rose in her office at the health center. She greeted us warmly, almost like family. I think Rose considered most people to be sort of family. That made her reaction to the story all the more painful to me. She tried to hide her disappointment, but I knew I’d failed her. We all had. Rose had expected me, us, DFO, to protect, ‘her people’ and we hadn’t. Finally, she raised her eyes and spoke quietly. “Eight months ago my nephew, Sammy, died after experiencing convulsions. We thought it was meningitis. I can remember similar cases over the last few years. You’re telling me they died because DFO was experimenting with genetically altered sockeye?”

  “Crowley and Griffith were operating on their own, Rose. Their work wasn’t sanctioned.” Somehow that didn’t make me feel any better.

  “And this Fleming Griffith is coming here? To destroy some of my files?”

  Louise answered. “He’ll be coming off the eleven-thirty flight. He’ll want to meet you.”