“You know,” Toof said. “You’re just playing dumb to keep me guessing.”
“No, I don’t know, Toof. Honest.”
“Get outta town, man. You know what this is about.”
“But I don’t, Toof. Kevin, do you know why Red Bear wants to see him?”
“Uh, no. I don’t,” Kevin said.
“See, neither of us knows, Toof. So if you’ve seen the light, you’re just going to have to let us in on it.”
“See, it’s ’cause I gave Red Bear my birthday and that, eh? So he could do my chart for me? He knows it’s my birthday tomorrow. That’s what this is about, I bet. It’s like a surprise party—remember, like he threw for you that time?”
It was true; Red Bear had thrown a party on Leon’s birthday. He had taken them all out to dinner at Bangkok Gardens. He had tried to order Dom Perignon but the restaurant didn’t have anything that good, so they’d had to settle for a Chablis. It had been a good evening; Red Bear had been in an excellent mood.
“It’s your birthday tomorrow?”
“Yup. I’ll be twenty-seven. No, twenty-eight. No, wait. I’m not sure. Twenty-eight, I think.”
“Gee, that’s great, Toof. That must be what this is about.” Leon touched Kevin’s shoulder. “Take the next left.”
Kevin made the turn onto a dirt road. It rapidly brought them to the construction site of a new subdivision. None of the houses was finished yet. The road became really rough, then, and they passed bulldozers and backhoes. The construction crews had left for the day.
“Take a right at the end of the road.”
The car dipped and swung over deep ruts in the mud. Then Kevin made the turn, and the road got even worse until it wasn’t a road at all. They passed a fenced-off equipment yard, and then there was nothing but trees.
“I’ll tell ya what I’d really like for my birthday,” Toof said. “What I’d really like is a trip to Tahiti. Or, like, maybe Hawaii. Anywhere the girls walk around in grass skirts and no tops.”
“I don’t think Red Bear would give you anything like that, Toof.”
“Oh, no. I know that. Hey, I’d be happy with a new CD or something. A movie and some popcorn. In fact, yeah, that’s exactly what I’d like to do. Let’s all go to the movies. There’s that new thing with The Rock just opened.”
“Well, sure. It’s your birthday; you can do whatever you want. Stop anywhere up here, Kevin.”
“I’m gonna order us a big cake for tomorrow. Dutch chocolate. Three storeys high, man. And maybe after the movies we could go out to the Chinook. I don’t need no place fancy. Fact, I like the Chinook better than that Bangkok joint any day. Yeah, let’s go there.”
Kevin stopped the car. Toof was still going on about the Chinook Tavern when there was a loud bang. He pitched forward so hard he bashed his head on the dashboard. “What the hell was that?” he said. He sat back, eyes rolling. He shook his head. “Did you guys hear something?”
The smell of gunpowder was overwhelming. Leon was sitting forward, the gun resting on the back of the front seat.
Kevin tried to speak, but nothing came out.
Leon fired again.
Toof tipped forward, slower this time. He pressed against the dashboard to raise himself. “Man, my eyes aren’t working right,” he said. His voice sounded as if he had just woken up from a long nap. “I’m not seeing so good.”
Toof got out of the car and stumbled, grabbing on to the fender for support. The back of his head was soaking wet, and blood was running down his jacket in strings.
“Fucking gun,” Leon said, and got out of the car.
Kevin wanted to run, he wanted to cry, but found he couldn’t do either. It was as if his legs were full of Novocaine.
The trunk opened and slammed shut. Then Leon came round the front behind Toof, with a baseball bat. He smashed him across the head, and Toof went down.
“Happy birthday,” Leon said.
21
JOHN CARDINAL WAS A DECENT COOK when he put his mind to it. He was not a man to rely on frozen dinners and pizza deliveries the moment his wife was out of town. Catherine’s many hospitalizations had forced him to learn his way around the kitchen. In fact, some of his favourite memories were of Kelly as a little girl “helping” him, chopping apples into uncookable chunks, her hair matted with pie dough.
He made himself a chicken curry and ate it in front of the television, watching the news and then flipping channels for a while. There was nothing on so he went down to the basement and did some woodworking. He was building a set of wide shelves for Catherine’s darkroom—nothing difficult, but he had to be careful with the router when he was cutting the grooves. Catherine’s darkroom was one of the first things he had built in the house, a long time ago, now; he was running out of projects.
Woodworking was Cardinal’s only hobby. He liked the smell of sawdust, the feel of wood in his hands, and he enjoyed the satisfaction that came from completing a project, even a small one like shelves. In law enforcement, satisfaction was an elusive commodity.
Cardinal and Catherine often worked in the basement at the same time, Catherine in her darkroom, Cardinal at his work table. They kept a dusty boom box down there and took turns choosing the music. Other times, Cardinal would be building something and he would hear her footsteps overhead in the kitchen. Alone together. That was how he thought of those times. We’re alone together, and sometimes it seemed more intimate than sex.
There were no footsteps overhead now, and Cardinal hadn’t bothered to put any music on. He wasn’t really enjoying the carpentry, either. With Catherine gone, it wasn’t the same.
The phone rang. Cardinal switched off the router, turned off his work light and went upstairs to the kitchen.
“What took you so long?” Catherine said when he picked up. “You had to hustle her out the back door?”
“Hey, sweetheart. I was hoping you’d call me back last night.”
“Sorry,” Catherine said. “We were out photographing these old grain silos on the waterfront. They look fabulous in the moonlight. And the old Canada Malting factory. It was fun, and I think the class learned a lot. How’s work?”
“One murder, one attempted murder.”
“Goodness. They must have you working late.”
“Pretty late. Kelly called you last night. She said it was just to chat, but I think she needs money. Naturally, she wouldn’t accept any from me. Couldn’t get off the phone fast enough.”
“Oh, John, don’t let it get to you. She’ll come round. You know she will. Anyway, I can’t be thinking about that right now, I’ve got too much on my mind.”
That was not like Catherine. Normally, she was never more concerned and attentive than when they were discussing their daughter.
“I wish you were home,” Cardinal said. “Or I wish I was there. It’s too quiet here.” At least he could say that without being accused of undermining her.
“Well, I can’t come home, John. I’m in the middle of some really important stuff here.”
“I know that, honey. I’m glad it’s going well.”
“The thing about these waterfront pictures, we’re getting a lot of stars in them, a lot of moon. It’s made me reconsider a lot of things. I mean, unless you’re an astronomer or something, you pretty much take them for granted, but I’m really thinking about them now. I think I may be beginning to understand them. For the first time.”
He could hear the clink and clatter of mania in her tone. A train of thought jumping the tracks of reason.
He said something soothing—“That’s good, sweetheart”—but in his mind he was praying. Please just let her make it through the next couple of days. Please let her make it home.