“I saw the old report today. Apparently, you interviewed members of Mr. Reynaud’s family?”
“Yes, that’s right. Let me see… He was a Canadian, right? I had to cross over and go to this little town on the North Channel…”
“Blind River.”
“Yes, that’s right. God, it’s all coming back to me now. Isn’t it funny how that works? I haven’t thought about it for so long… I remember, the family had already been notified, of course. This was a couple of days afterward. I went out to this big farmhouse. Mr. Reynaud’s parents lived there, and I think he and his wife were living there, too. And their little girl. I remember this little girl running around. She must have been around six or seven years old. An absolute little doll. But it was really kind of heartbreaking, because this girl obviously didn’t know what was going on. She kept asking her mother where her daddy was.”
“Her name’s Natalie,” I said. “She’s a cop herself now.”
“Is that right? I’ll be damned.”
“So what happened when you talked to the family?”
“I remember talking to the man’s father first, I think. He was pretty stoic about the whole thing. He was a real hunk of granite, you know what I mean? One of those old guys who’ve worked real hard all their lives. They’ve seen it all, sickness and death. Hard times. He was just trying to keep everyone else from falling apart, it seemed like. He didn’t have much to say to me. In fact, I don’t think he was real happy to have me there, asking them all these questions. He just wanted everybody to leave them alone.”
“I never met the man,” I said. “But from what I’ve heard about him, that sounds like him.”
“The mother, she was real upset. Naturally. I mean, this was their only child. The strange thing was she told me that her son had never been to Soo Michigan in his whole life. Which was hard to believe, since they only lived what, a couple of hours away. But no, she said. She never wanted him to go down there, because it was such a terrible place. And I can’t argue with them, of course. What am I gonna say? Here I am sitting there in their house, wearing a Soo Michigan uniform, and the only reason I’m there is because their son got murdered as soon as he set foot in the place for the first time in his whole life. It was pretty uncomfortable, to say the least.”
“I imagine.”
“So next, I talk to the wife. She was pretty young-looking, I remember that. A real attractive woman, too, but I don’t know…”
“What?”
“I didn’t say anything in the report, because, well, I wasn’t sure how I’d even say it. She just seemed to be a little… off center about things.”
“How do you mean?”
“It was hard to put my finger on. I mean, you were a cop. You know how it is when you talk to somebody and everything they’re saying adds up, but just the way they’re saying it, you sorta get the feeling that everything isn’t being said. You know what I’m talking about?”
“I think so,” I said. “Are you saying you suspected she was involved in the murder?”
“No, I wouldn’t go that far. It’s just that… God, what was it? All the time I was talking to her, she was telling me that her husband had gone down there to Soo Michigan to go to this bar at the Ojibway Hotel, and had never come back home, and that they had gotten a phone call the next morning… And I remember thinking, how come she wasn’t mad at him? I mean, on the night itself, when he left her with their kid so he could go all the way down there to celebrate New Year’s Eve? She told me everything else about that night, right down to the tiniest detail. I mean, this woman could talk. But not once did she tell me how she felt that night. Then even on that day, here I was talking to her about her dead husband, and she’s telling me all these other things about how she’s gonna have to live with her in-laws, and what’s she gonna do with her daughter. Again, not one word about how she was coping with it herself, or how she felt about losing her husband. She would talk about anything, but as soon as she got close to her own self, she would stop short. I think that’s what gave me a strange feeling about her.”
I thought hard about what he was saying. I’d known enough liars in my life. You can’t be a cop without meeting plenty of them. For the worst of them, the truly hopeless born liars, maybe this is how it all starts, by keeping a tight lid on your own secrets. By never revealing the truth about yourself. When you’ve learned to control the truth, then you can start bending it. Just a little at first, then a little more when you see what it can do for you. A lie can open doors for you. Or close them.
A lie can keep you safe.
“Now the best friend, on the other hand,” Henderson went on, “he had no problem telling me how he felt about it.”
“You talked to Albert DeMarco?”
“Yeah, that was his name. He lived just down the road. As I recall, the two of them were both going to go down to the Ojibway Hotel that night. The way he described it, it almost sounded like a rite of passage for these guys. Everybody in Ontario knew what a wild place Soo Michigan was back then, and especially when your families are telling you never, ever to step foot there. Well, you can imagine what a couple of young men are going to think of that.”
“But Jean Reynaud was married.”
“Yeah, I know. Either he just needed a guys’ night out, away from the family, or maybe stepping out was more of a habit for him. I never really got a line on that one. The one thing that was pretty clear was that Mr. DeMarco blamed himself for his friend’s death. He had some reason… What was it? He got real sick that day, or something. So Reynaud went by himself. Which struck me as odd, too, now that I remember it. I had all sorts of little alarm bells going off in my head that day.”
“Did you press them on it?”
“I tried to. But like I said, I was already in a tough spot, being the ambassador from Sodom and Gomorrah, trying to find out how their man had gotten killed. I needed special permission from the Canucks just to be there in the first place. So no, Mr. McKnight, I never did get anywhere with that case. I still think about it, to this day. Can you tell?”
“I think I’d be the same way.”
“You said the little girl became a cop. What happened to the rest of them? The man’s parents are gone by now, I’m sure.”
“Yes, they are,” I said. “So is Mr. DeMarco. I guess he died a couple of years ago. His mother’s still kicking around, though. I think she’s ninety-six years old now.”
“DeMarco’s mother? Oh yeah, I remember meeting her. I don’t think we talked much, though. She’s ninety-six, eh? That’s pretty impressive.”
“Yes, it is.”
“Tell me, Mr. McKnight… The fact that you’re asking me about this now. Does this mean you might have some new information?”
“I don’t know,” I said. “Let me throw a name at you. Simon Grant. Does it ring any bells?”
“Simon Grant… Simon Grant…” There was a long pause while he thought about it. “No, it doesn’t. Are you telling me he might have killed Reynaud?”
“I honestly don’t know that, sir. But it looks like he may have been involved.”
“What does he have to say for himself?”
“I’m afraid he’s dead now. He froze to death a few days ago.”
“My, it sounds like things are getting interesting up there.”
“I promise you, sir, I’ll let you know whatever we find out.”
“I’d appreciate it,” he said. “It’s good to close the book on things, even if it’s thirty-odd years too late.”
“I understand.”
“You’re gonna say hello to Roy for me, right? The two of you are good friends?”
“I’m not sure you could go that far.”
“Well, send my best anyway. What’s the weather like, anyway?”
“Cold and snow,” I said. “What else is it gonna be?”
“It’s eighty degrees here right now,” he said. “I was out working on the boat. But I’ll tell you, Mr. McKnight, even though it may be paradise down here, I still miss the old Soo-town. There’s just something about the place, you know what I mean?”