Never Hug a Mugger on Quadra Island

by Sandy Frances Duncan

  “Yes.” He glanced from one to the other. “They watched a tape of Shane falling. They either know a lot about skating or they had some kind of analyst with them. They accused Shane. He admitted it.”

  Steve plunked his fork down and stood up. His chair tottered. He steadied it.

  “And—” a moment’s pause, “they know we want him to fall again.”

  Shu-li finished her last mouthful of salad. She put her fork down. “Now what?”

  • • •

  Back in the car, out the driveway. Noel said, “And now?”

  “Now we wait. Let him stew. He’s one smooth dude.”

  “And a real possible danger to Shane. Someone should be with Shane at every moment for the next few days. I’ll talk to Jason.”

  Kyra nodded. “I’d like to be a fly on the umbrella over their lunch, listening in. Think he’ll tell his friends?”

  “You mean, are they in on it? That’s a stretch, but who knows.” Noel was still searching for what Shane said that bothered him so. “Shouldn’t we be getting over to the Cooper house?”

  “Maybe eat first, not show up hungry. It’s after one.”

  “There’s that place in the shopping center.”

  “Let’s go.” She settled back as Noel drove. The case, at last surging ahead nicely over the past few hours, suddenly felt like a wall of mud. Waiting wasn’t her favorite tactic. “What do you think he’ll do? Austin, I mean.”

  “I don’t know. But we’ve loosened a couple of his supports.”

  As, Kyra felt, something had pulled out from under her, too. The fetus was gone. Was that good? She honestly didn’t know. She crossed her ankles. How really did she feel? She’d called it just a few cells, but it would have become a child. Did she want a child in her life? Now at least she wouldn’t have to tell a child she didn’t know who its father was. A worry gone. Save the worry for the case. “How do you read Osborne?”

  “Smooth on the outside. Inside, pretty twisted.”

  “I bet skaters learn to create smooth. Like actors. Shane, turning on the charm at center ice. Remember Linda’s comment? ‘We know he knows how to smile, he does it for the world.’”

  Noel wheeled into the village center and parked in front of the Lovin’ Oven. They ordered sandwiches, and a salad to share. “I know it has to happen,” he said, “but I’m not looking forward to Shane’s confession this afternoon.”

  “One painful afternoon coming up. For the whole family.”

  “Yeah.” Pain brought on by Austin. That was it! Shane had described Austin saying he could take pain away, and he could cause pain. How would Austin cause pain? Time to talk to Shane again. After he’d finished with his family.

  At 1:45 they pulled into the Coopers’ drive, the Corolla parked there and Derek’s truck, hurtingly undriven for a while. They went into the kitchen. “Hello?” Noel called

  Jason appeared. “Hello. What terrible news do you have for us now?”

  “Let’s talk in the living room. Linda and Alana and the boys are here?”

  “Tim and Alana are on the computer. I’m making up the sofa bed for Shane so he doesn’t have to climb stairs. He’s practicing with his crutches. And acting odd.”

  Kyra, trying to lighten Jason up: “Is that something new?”

  “A different kind of odd.”

  “Let’s all go talk.”

  From the living room Jason called to his family. One by one they wandered in. Linda and Jason sat on the couch, Noel, Kyra and Alana on chairs, Shane in his wheelchair, Tim on the floor playing with his baseball cap. Linda offered tea. Everyone refused. They waited for Kyra and Noel to begin. Noel turned to Shane. “Go ahead.”

  “I have something to tell you.” Shane addressed Kyra and Noel. He sat straighter than Kyra’d seen him, his voice stronger. He explained how he’d fallen on purpose. Because Austin demanded it. Fall, or Austin would no longer sponsor Shane. “I know—I knew then—It was completely selfish of me, I know I’ve been an asshole. Especially this summer. But I haven’t known what to do. I’ve been crazy.” Shane teared up and blinked. “That’s the reason I fell. I love skating, I want to get as good as I can. I’m sorry—” Big tears came now. “I’ve just ended up hurting people, everybody I care about.”

  Linda walked to Shane’s wheelchair. She hugged him and kissed his cheek. “Sweetheart, we didn’t know what pressure you were under.” She hugged him again.

  “Yeah, why you were being such an asshole,” Tim elaborated.

  With a cautioning glance at his youngest son, Jason said, “I wish you’d told us this months ago. Years ago.”

  How could he have, Kyra thought.

  “There’s more.”

  Linda backed away. “What?”

  Shane leaked silent tears. “He wants me to fall again.”

  Jason stared at Shane. “I’m going to punch the fff— shit out of Osborne!”

  “I’ll go with you, Dad,” said Tim.

  Jason drove a fist into his palm three times and kicked a cupboard. “Ow!”

  Linda said, “Jason. Sit down.”

  “We need to talk about what happens next,” said Noel.

  “Jesus effing Christ!” Jason straight-armed the counter. He kicked the cupboard again.

  Linda put her arm around him. “Sit down. Please.”

  When bad things happen to good people, Kyra thought, uselessly.

  “All right, now what?” Linda looked at Noel and Kyra.

  Noel glanced at Alana. She sat blinking, trying not to cry. He checked Kyra: What he expected, the let’s-go-for-it face.

  “What do you know about Austin?” Noel asked.

  “What do you mean?” Jason asked back.

  “He’s been around your family for years, you must know facts, impressions, whatever. What’s he like?”

  Tim put his cap on, twisted it front to back—

  “Tim!” his mother said. “Stop with the cap.”

  Tim stuck it under his leg. He said, “I’ve always felt glad Shane dealt with Austin, not me. That’s chicken of me,” he looked at Shane, “but when it comes to Austin I’m a chicken. You’re the brave one.” Tim’s tone a mixture of admiration and shame.

  Kyra wanted to ask, Why did Austin want you to do this, Shane? Later. “What about the rest of you? Austin’s been part of your lives, if indirectly.”

  “You’re right.” Linda marshaled her brain. “We couldn’t understand why a man like Austin would want to contribute so much to someone he barely knew. We had serious doubts, you know, an older man, a young boy. We checked every source we could. Our friend in the RCMP got information from CSIS, from bonding agencies, even the FBI. But Austin had a perfectly clean past. Nothing negative.”

  Kyra glanced at the teenagers. They looked appalled.

  “You did all that?” Tim squeaked.

  “Do you expect,” his mother said, “that either your father or I would let any of you go off with a stranger without finding out who he is?”

  “So you know who he isn’t.” Noel kept his tone mild. “But do you know who he is?”

  “We thought we did,” Linda said.

  Jason, beside her, took both her hands in his. “We did those checks with hockey coaches, too. Linda’s right, we tried to protect our children.”

  Alana said, “Uh, Kyra? When I found out who he was, I googled him again. He started as a singles skater, but then moved to pairs with a woman, Tilly something—”

  “Danforth,” Shane supplied, his tone subdued.

  Alana said, “Yeah. Pairs, that’s where he got his reputation. And the Ice Follies, but that was later. They won four championships. But they had two accidents where they fell badly, and they stopped skating together.”

  “Good, Alana.” Noel glanced about. “Anything else about Osborne?”

  Silence. Linda said, “Some tea now?” A nod from Jason. Then Tim. She stood, at Shane’s chair she gave him another hug, and left the room.

  Noel said, “Shane.”
r />   Shane looked up.

  “The big question remains. Why did Austin ask you to fall?”

  Shane shook his head three times, as if he were stretching his neck. “I don’t know. Thought about it, but never figured it.”

  Kyra picked up her purse and went to the bathroom. The bleeding had slowed, but she needed a new pad.

  Noel sat beside Jason. He whispered, “For the next while Shane should always be with someone. For his own protection.”

  Jason looked at him, thought, and nodded. “You’re right.”

  Noel stood and approached Shane’s chair. “Let’s go for a short stroll.” He took the chair handles and pushed forward.

  “I can do it.” Shane grabbed at the wheels, turned, and rolled toward the door. “You’ll have to drop it down one step.”

  Outside, a hot bright afternoon, Noel walked as the chair rolled. At first neither spoke. Then Shane said, “I don’t know anything else. Really.”

  “Do you suspect anything else?”

  “What d’you mean?”

  “You said Austin said he could cure pain, and he could cause pain.”

  “Something like that.”

  “What kind of pain have you felt, recently?”

  “You mean this leg?”

  “The leg. What else?

  Shane gave this a few seconds thought. “I don’t understand.”

  “Has there been pain around you?”

  “I don’t know—you mean the pain I’ve caused my parents and brothers?—well, Timmy anyway?”

  “That, yes. Any other pain?”

  “I don’t know. Derek maybe—but I don’t know how much pain you feel in a coma.” He shrugged. “I guess indirectly Derek’s caused my parents and Timmy and me some real pain, wondering if he’s ever going to come around again.”

  “Austin told you he could relieve pain but also cause it. When did he say that?”

  “When? Couple of times, I think.”

  “The first time?”

  “Maybe two-three months ago?

  “Before you fell?”

  “I think so. Yeah.”

  “Did that scare you?”

  “Scare me?”

  “Do you think he meant, he could cause you pain?”

  “Uhhmm—”

  Noel waited.

  Shane said, “It might’ve crossed my mind.”

  “Did he scare you when he said that?”

  “I—can’t remember.” He squeezed his eyes shut. “Yeah, maybe.”

  “Enough to convince you that you had to fall?”

  “I don’t remember. Really.”

  Noel nodded. “The second time he said he could cause pain, when was that?”

  Shane inhaled deeply and stared into the distance. “Maybe—a month ago?”

  “After you told him you wouldn’t deliberately fall in competition again?”

  “Yeah. Right.”

  “A week or so before Derek was beaten?”

  “About— No way, Noel. Austin wouldn’t do that.”

  “You never thought he might have?”

  “I—no, I haven’t thought anything like that.”

  “Could you now?”

  “I don’t know. Shit, Austin’s supported me for four years.”

  “At a price. A price you agreed to when you were fourteen .”

  Shane said nothing.

  “Think about it.”

  “I can’t—I mean, he wouldn’t. He just wouldn’t.”

  “Lots of coincidences in the timing.”

  “Yeah. Maybe.” He rolled himself forward. “I just don’t know.”

  • • •

  Steve Struthers got up from the table. He averted his face to keep from meeting his colleagues’ eyes. He stacked the three plates and collected the cutlery. He walked them to the sink. He came back and sat again. He poured another glass of wine. He gestured the bottle to Austin and Shu-li. Both accepted. He sipped, and sighed. “It’s over, I think,” he said. “It’s unrescuable. It was a grand concept. But now we can never bring it about.”

  Shu-li glanced toward Austin. His face had darkened, now a slate tint; anger or despair, she couldn’t tell. She mentally stroked his hand. A part of her said she must speak now, a part of her didn’t dare. She waited for Austin to explode. But he only stared across the table at a point somewhere between her and Steve. She made herself say, “We have to talk this through.”

  Steve shrugged. “What’s to say? We knew what we wanted. We built a scaffolding to get us there. Over the last four years we worked hard to reinforce it. We did all we could. Now is the time to simply walk away.”

  “You mean completely?” But it depressed Shu-li to realize she agreed with him. Her personal involvement? She’d find that hard to discard. “Hang the three of them out to dry?” She shook her head slowly. “I don’t think I can, Steve.”

  “Do we have a choice?”

  “You’d drop Graham, just like that?”

  “Shu-li, when you agreed to support Miranda, a favor from the gods fell on her. What the gods provide, the gods also remove. She’s had four years of training that would never have happened without you. Remember that.”

  Austin continued to stare.

  Steve went on, “Now it will be safest if we withdraw.”

  “Let Harold Arensen get away with all his past evil?” Shu-li shook her head. “And whatever he might be plotting now?”

  “Do we have a choice?”

  “Austin, what do you say?”

  Austin looked from Shu-li to Steve to Shu-li, got up and left the table. Shu-li pushed her chair back and made to stand. Steve caught her arm, shook his head. She sat again, watching Austin close the door to his study behind him.

  Steve said, “He’ll see he has to agree.”

  “You were abrupt.”

  “He has to be shocked into recognition. Wander around the point, you lose his attention.”

  “You certainly had it a few minutes ago.”

  “We’ll see.”

  • • •

  Austin sat at his desk and stared at the computer screen. The wallpaper, a publicity photo of Shane high in the air partway through a triple axel, his face aglow with pleasure, shone at Austin in accusation. When he’d met Shane he saw a young man who might became the champion Austin himself had been. He’d known as well, presciently, that through Shane, Austin could bring down Harold Arensen. Shane and two or three others like Shane. Through two or three others like himself.

  He knew the three who could make it happen. Steve Struthers. Shu-li Waterman. Missie Kagasaki. Their fates had been parallel to his own, the ruin of their careers at the machinations of Arensen. Austin invited the three of them to Quadra Island. A day to become reacquainted: Missie and Shu-li had trained together but hadn’t seen each other in five years; Steve and Missie had shared a coach for three years. Austin prepared a fine meal. They all had a good night’s sleep. At breakfast the second day he told them his intention: destroy Arensen. Quick agreement: all had been devastated by the man. After discussing possible tactics, Missie wriggled uncomfortably. By noon she decided it wasn’t her project. Yes, she’d like Harold punished, he’d conspired three times with four other judges to keep her off the podium. But she didn’t want to replay the memory—trying to hurt Harold might mean contact with him and she couldn’t bear that. She wished them luck. Could Randy drive her to the airport? Of course.

  Austin had been sorry Missie had bowed out. Four were stronger than three.

  That meeting set the blueprint for the next years. He, Shu-li and Steve sought the best young skaters in each of their regions—Steve in Montreal’s west island suburbs, Shu-li in the Calgary area, Austin around Ottawa and on BC’s lower mainland—and studied them for a year. After this each would choose the most promising for full sponsorship. With their backing, the skaters—Miranda Steele, Graham Pauley and Shane Cooper—would become, to the then head of Skate Canada, Harold Arensen, the promise of the Canadian Team. When Harold was
fully enamored with these prospects, they would fulfill the contract that they’d agreed to with Steve, Shu-li, Austin. One after the other. Dominoes.

  Staring at the photo of Shane on the computer, Austin recalled Shu-li’s question: What’s in it for the skaters? Austin had explained, first, the best training money can buy. Second, once Harold resigned, and resign he would after being accused by Skate Canada of pushing these skaters beyond their endurance into injury and depression, the youngsters would escape Harold’s whims. The Quadra Cabal would not let Harold wipe out the careers of this new generation as he’d destroyed the careers of Austin, Shu-li, Steve. How, Steve asked, would Harold be so accused? Austin explained the three would employ one of Harold’s own methods, create a whispering campaign. Only in their case they wouldn’t have to lie as Harold had, just bring the truth to the skating community.

  Harold Arensen, for reasons Austin hoped of health but cited in the press as a preference for balmy over sleet-ridden Februaries, had moved to Victoria. After only six weeks there he was offered, and accepted, the position of Honorary Chair of the Vancouver Island Skating Union. The Quadra Cabal could bring about Arensen’s double fall from grace.

  But now Steve asserted his protégé Graham was proceeding more slowly than they needed, and Shu-li believed that her Miranda might not be good enough.

  And now Shane. The leg breaks would heal. But he’d told the detectives about the purposeful fall. Intolerable. Worse, irreversible.

  Had the scaffolding broken? Would everyone learn that Austin Osborne had conspired with Shane Cooper? Likely the true reason for the pact would never become known. So the skating community would invent explanations. Austin shuddered. He knew the venom it could spit out.

  Make his own statement to Skate Canada? What could he tell them? The truth might be the easiest. Would anyone believe the Quadra Cabal had conspired to bring down Harold Arensen? Surely there must be more to Shane Cooper falling than that. Some deeper and more complex machination, right? Which Austin would deny, because there was nothing else. And he would forever be accused of conspiracy.

  At least there was nothing illegal in asking Shane to lose in a competition. At least he didn’t think so. At least he was safe on that front. He hoped.

  He stared at the photo of Shane on the screen. A beautiful skater. But Shane had betrayed him. No more support from Austin. No hope for Olympic gold.