“And two dead bodies, and one head injury that landed Brenda in hospital,” Harry said angrily. “You came to me, remember?”
“I’m just trying to put this into perspective,” Andi said as patiently as she could. “I lost a career because I didn’t have proof. All I had was a made-up story from an unreliable source. Right now we have innuendo and speculation.”
“She’s right,” Jim said. “We need more information before we can write a story or get the police involved. And if we do this half-cocked, go to the police or publish something now without concrete facts, we could put Brenda in more danger. We’ll let Hilstead know we’re investigating. If he did kill Gerry Roberts and Mason, he must have been feeling cornered. We don’t want to make that worse.”
Harry was silent.
“Hilstead talked to Adrian Palmer, right?” Andi said. “Told him enough for Palmer to get worried. What we need is Hilstead to talk again. To say enough to tie him to Mason and Roberts. Get him on the record.”
“How do we do that?” Harry asked.
“I have an idea,” Andi said. “Now I need to make a phone call.”
Soon it was all settled. Harry would catch the morning flight to Vancouver. He couldn’t take his boat. It would take too long, and besides, Vega’s team wanted to search it.
* * *
Andi chose a table at the back of the Java Time Café. The last time she was here, she’d sat at the window overlooking the waterfront. But this time she thought her interviewee would prefer somewhere more discreet.
Andi ordered coffee and a scone and took a seat at the table where she had a good view of the entrance.
It was mid-morning, and the café was quiet. The sea walk in Nanaimo was deserted, too late for morning dog walkers and joggers, and too early for the lunchtime crowd.
Andi hadn’t brought her laptop. She had promised that the interview would be entirely off the record, so she wanted this meeting to be relaxed. She wondered how Mason’s wife was dealing with her recent bereavement. The police had omitted her from any press statement, and although Andi had scoured all the online search records and press archives that mentioned Mason, she hadn’t found a single mention of a wife.
It must be hard, she thought, to lose your husband and have to grieve in secret.
Andi sipped her coffee and ate the scone, letting her thoughts wander over the events of the last weeks. She’d never worked as hard on a story before. In the city, she had always found people with information who were willing to hand it over to the press. Usually, they had an angle or were looking for some kind of payout. Politicians and their aides leaked selectively, spinning information to distract or distort facts, other people traded information for cash or benefits in kind, or used their secrets for leverage. Information was currency.
Here on the island it was different. There was no shortage of gossip and drama. Andi had seen how Coffin Cove came alive with morbid fascination after Mason’s death. But there were secrets in that town. Someone knew something about Sarah McIntosh’s murder. Someone knew who killed Mason. And Andi still believed that the two deaths were connected. And she hoped that Mason’s wife could shed some light on this story.
Andi got the first text from Terry Pederson the photographer as she ordered her second coffee. He’d picked up Harry from the airport, and they were on their way to meet Adrian Palmer and Brenda, just as they had discussed on the phone the night before.
I’ll keep my ears and eyes open, Terry texted, showing that he understood that Andi wasn’t entirely sure about Harry.
Andi hoped that Jim was right about Harry. She had conflicting feelings about the man. Something about the way Harry talked about Brenda gave Andi the feeling that they were close. For some reason, this realization had disappointed her. Harry had been abrupt with her — unpleasant, almost — and Andi still suspected that he knew more than he was saying.
Harry was connected to everyone in this story — Mason, Gerry Roberts, Steve Hilstead, Hades Fish Co. and Joe McIntosh. His gun was the murder weapon in one of the homicides.
So why was she dismayed at the thought of Harry in a relationship?
Andi pushed her confusion to one side. She didn’t have time for this, and she certainly didn’t have the appetite for a relationship, not after Gavin, she told herself. And anyway, Harry wasn’t her type at all. He was older, for a start, and they had nothing in common.
Jim had been evasive about what he was doing today. He’d asked for one of his old boxes of files back and told Andi he had an appointment. She was surprised but didn’t press him. Jim would tell her when he was ready.
She hoped that Terry would come through for her. He’d never let her down in the past. He was a first-rate photographer and knew how to work a crime scene. He liked mystery and intrigue, and Andi had employed him for surveillance and undercover work before. His services came with a high price tag, something that she didn’t mention to Jim, but she knew his work was worth it. Although he was always ready with an off-colour joke and the latest conspiracy theory, he was a professional. He also had many useful contacts on both sides of the law.
The second text she received from Terry directed her to her emails.
As the café filled up with passengers who had just disembarked from the floatplane, Andi checked her inbox.
Hilstead investigated by DFO last year re: poaching abalone. Big operation, went to court. Hilstead got off on a technicality. Investigators suspected he was a small fish, part of a bigger operation. His lawyers were Dunn and Grant Associates. They also represent Paul Nguyen — organized crime, named in casino scandal, so far coming up clean. Might be looking for a new retail outlet?
Talk later,
Terry.
That would make sense, Andi thought. The recent casino scandal on the mainland involved a massive money-laundering scheme. Organized crime gangs were washing their cash through government-regulated casinos and gambling outlets. Terry was right, Andi thought, now the scheme was out in the open, those gangs would look for new ways to launder cash. Legitimate businesses like Hades Fish Co. would work. But the theory didn’t explain everything.
It was possible that Gerry Roberts, if he was turning a blind eye to Hilstead’s King of Cash drug boat, was also involved in tipping off Hilstead about the DFO investigation. Maybe Captain Roberts knew too much? Or maybe he took his own life because he’d been caught and couldn’t stand the scandal? None of this explained Mason’s involvement.
“Is this seat taken?” a woman’s voice asked.
Andi paused midway through typing a reply to Terry. She looked up and recognized the thin, grey-haired woman with dark eyes who was standing beside her, holding a cup of coffee. She was dressed in faded jeans and a long baggy sweater and had a patchwork cloth bag slung over her shoulder. She was the woman Andi had seen in the abandoned Ocean Protection Society office. Andi realized that she must have come in with the passengers from the floatplane and wondered if she had flown in from Vancouver.
“Please, sit down.” Andi smiled warmly at the woman, hoping to put her at ease.
It didn’t work. The woman sat down and held on to her coffee with both hands. She didn’t smile. There was an air of sorrow about her. She bent her head as if it was too much of an effort to hold it straight.
Of course she’s sad, Andi thought, she’s just lost her husband.
“Thank you for coming,” Andi started, as gently as possible. “What’s your name?”
“Carol Morin,” the woman stated. Like Mason, she had the trace of a French accent, and Andi guessed she was from Quebec.
“You are Pierre Mason’s wife?” Andi asked.
Carol Morin took a sip of her coffee before answering in an emotionless voice.
“We had a complicated relationship,” she said. “We weren’t legally married, but it was easier, sometimes, to say we were.”
“OK,” Andi said, not wanting to push it. “Have the police spoken to you since your . . . Pierre was . . . ?”
/> “Murdered,” Carol finished for her in the same tone. “Yes. I told them what I will tell you. I know very little about his operations. I helped with his publicity campaigns.”
“Yet you visited Captain Gerry Roberts?” Andi asked. “Why did you do that?”
For the first time, Carol Morin’s voice shook a little. “I found notes about Captain Roberts in a file, and I . . . I wanted to follow up.”
Andi sighed. “Carol, I understand that you are distrustful of the press. Maybe the police. But all I want to do is find out the truth. Years ago, your husband was accused of being involved in the death of a young girl. He was cleared, but the case was never solved. The community . . . well, many of the people in the community still suspect him. The ‘no smoke without fire’ kind of mentality, you know what I mean?” She looked at Carol, who nodded, and then carried on. “So it seems strange that your husband would come back to Coffin Cove, unless there was an important reason. Then he got killed. But the day before he died, he sent me this picture.” Andi showed Carol a copy of the picture. “He implied that this was the important story. He called it ‘The Bigger Picture’. Have you seen this before? Do you know what he was talking about?”
Carol took a long minute to look at the picture before she nodded.
“Yes. It was in his file.”
“Same file with the notes about Gerry Roberts?”
“Yes.” She pointed to the image of the DFO vessel. “Gerry Roberts was on this boat, and this boat here?” She pointed to the packer. “This boat was called the King of Cash. It was run by a man called Stan Hilstead.”
“Steve Hilstead’s father,” Andi said. So that matched with Harry’s story, she thought, and was surprised to feel some relief.
“Why was Pierre so interested in the Hilsteads?” she asked Carol.
“He wasn’t particularly, not back then,” Carol answered. “He was protesting against overfishing and the mismanagement of the fish stocks. He heard rumours that this boat, and the Hilsteads,” she said, pointing at the packer in the picture, “were forging their tally slips, and paying off someone in the DFO to turn a blind eye.”
“Tally slips?” Andi was confused.
“The record of the fish purchased from the fishermen. The fishermen keep a record of fish caught, and the packer keeps a record of the fish purchased, and then there’s another record of fish sold on to the processors. All the records are supposed to match. This is how the DFO can control the fishery, make sure that there’s no illegal poaching. Back then it was all recorded by hand. It was easy to forge, as long as everyone in the chain was in on it. Now it’s done by cameras and computer.”
“I see . . . I heard,” Andi said, choosing her words carefully, “that the Hilsteads were paying the fishermen with cocaine.”
Carol Morin gave a short laugh. “No doubt. But Pierre didn’t care about that. He only cared about the poaching and holding the DFO to account.”
“Did he ever prove it?” Andi asked.
“No. He was close, but he was only one person. He was working for Greenpeace, and they moved to other . . . priorities.”
Andi decided not to probe this, so she moved on.
“Was the name ‘Harry Brown’ in his file?”
Carol frowned. “No, who is he?”
Andi pointed to the picture. “The other boat in this picture. The Pipe Dream. Harry Brown owns it.”
Carol shook her head. “No, but this was a long time ago. There might be stuff missing from back then.”
It wasn’t entirely an exoneration, Andi thought.
“So why was Pierre in Coffin Cove?”
“Hades Fish Co. employed him to protest,” Carol said simply.
“What?” Andi was stunned. “Isn’t he . . . wasn’t he on the other side? Wasn’t he against the fishing industry?”
Carol looked at her, almost with amusement, Andi thought.
“Pierre didn’t care about sides. He cared about the environment. Our oceans, our forests, our rivers. He knew how it worked. Some so-called environmental organizations are worse than big corporations. They exist only to make money from the bleeding-hearts who don’t do their research. Or they work for competitors of certain corporations. They don’t care about the cause. They care about the profit to be made. Environmentalism is big business now.”
“So why was Pierre part of that?” Andi asked.
“Pierre worked for anyone who wanted the same result,” Carol said. “Hades wanted the herring fishery disrupted so they could drive down prices and control the fishermen. Pierre wanted to stop the fishery because the stocks are depleted. The fishery is unsustainable.”
Carol leaned across the table. “Miss Silvers, Pierre was a pragmatist. He did what he needed to do. He understood that sometimes you need to lie down with the Devil to do God’s work.”
Andi was beginning to understand.
“And Hilstead?” she asked. “Was he the Devil?”
Carol leaned back and shrugged. “I don’t know. Pierre said that Hilstead was involved in a bigger poaching operation. He was working for someone else, and Pierre thought he was being helped — or at least not hindered — by someone in the DFO.”
“Gerry Roberts?”
Carol nodded. “Pierre tried to talk to him. And so did I. I thought I could at least get something from him that would help find who killed my husband.”
“But he wouldn’t talk to you?”
“No. I guess he was afraid. And now it seems he was right to be.”
“That night, Carol, why was Pierre at the fish plant? Did he tell you anything?”
“I told all this to the police. All Pierre told me was he was meeting someone who had information about illegal poaching. Someone he knew from his past.”
She finished her coffee, then pulled two files out of her bag and handed them to Andi.
“You can have these. I didn’t give them to the police. They are Pierre’s. Everything I know is in there.”
Andi flipped through the files and looked up at Carol. “This one is marked ‘War in the Woods’. You’re saying that Pierre’s death was connected to those protests?”
Carol Morin pushed her chair back and stood up. “I’m not saying anything. But Pierre died in Coffin Cove. And his connection with that place went back to the War in the Woods.”
“Carol, I have one more question. And then you’ll never hear from me again,” Andi said quickly. It was delicate, but she needed to ask. “Sarah McIntosh. Did Pierre . . . I mean, was Pierre . . .”
“Having an affair with a little girl?” Carol finished, her voice hard. “No, Miss Silvers, he wasn’t screwing a little girl, and he didn’t kill her either.”
“So why do you think they suspected him?” Andi could sense Carol’s anger, but she pushed for an answer anyway.
“Because he was an outsider,” Carol said. “Coffin Cove doesn’t like outsiders. Even though most of the community supported the protests, they still sided against him, rather than believe that one of their own could kill that child.”
“Pierre thought someone in Coffin Cove killed Sarah?”
“It’s all in the files.” Carol Morin reached out to shake Andi’s hand. “Be careful, Miss Silvers. You are an outsider too.”
“Thank you,” Andi said. Then she pointed at the file. “Why didn’t you hand these over to IHIT?” she asked curiously.
Carol smiled for the first time. “Old habits die hard,” she said. “Pierre and I got arrested many times. He was very proud of that.”
Andi laughed. “I really appreciate it. I am so sorry about Pierre.” She meant it sincerely.
Carol’s self-control cracked for the first time. “Thank you,” she said, her voice breaking with tears.
Chapter Thirty-Six
“Where’s Nikos?” Harry asked as Brenda showed him and Terry into her small living room.
Terry nodded at Brenda and dumped a briefcase on her coffee table.
“I don’t want him to know anything about
this,” a tall dark-haired man said. Harry assumed he was Adrian. He had Iris’s delicate features and he was dressed in an expensive suit, far too fancy for Nikos, but there was something about his nervous energy that reminded Harry of his old boss.
“Adrian, this is Harry,” Brenda introduced them.
Adrian smiled briefly, before his expression settled back into an anxious frown.
“I remember you,” he said to Harry. “My father left me with you on your boat one day. He was supposed to be looking after me, but he was too busy.”
“That happened a lot,” Harry interrupted. “I remember. I was busy too, and pissed off at your old man, but you didn’t make a fuss. You asked me a whole bunch of questions about fishing and didn’t get in the way.”
“Well, thanks anyway,” Adrian muttered awkwardly.
Harry remembered the serious seven-year-old. They dressed him in expensive clothes then as well, too nice for a fishing boat, and the boy hung his head when Nikos left him on the wharf and drove off. Harry felt sorry for that kid back then.
He wasn’t sure about now.
Adrian looked stressed. Every so often, he brushed his dark hair out of his eyes, paced over to the living room window and stared intently at the view, as if he could find answers to his troubles in the scenery.
Harry introduced Terry.
“So this is the problem we have,” Harry started, and recounted the conversation that he, Jim and Andi had the previous night. “We don’t have any proof that Hilstead hurt you,” he said to Brenda, “and he could very well make it seem like you’re nothing more than an unhappy employee, just pissed off that you’re not as important to the company as you once were — you know what I mean, right?”
“Ex-employee,” Brenda said, agreeing. “It was a mistake to resign, I suppose. Played right into Hilstead’s hands.”
COFFIN COVE a gripping murder mystery full of twists (Coffin Cove Mysteries Book 1) Page 22
