A few regulars stared angrily at the man. He frowned, looking at his book, then settled deeper into the chair.
Anna leaned closer, took off her mitt, and hung it between two fingers. She brushed the mitt against the man’s left ear. He swatted at it, but she was too quick. She brushed his ear again. He swatted, missing.
“Okay! Shit! Have the chair!” He stood up – all six foot four and two hundred ninety pounds of him – grabbed his coat, and stormed off.
Anna took off her coat, helmet, and mitts. The she pulled her laptop computer out from under her white cable turtleneck. She sat down and opened the laptop.
Nigel took off his coat and sat across from her. No need to mention what just happened. She’ll already have moved on. Just get right to the point. “What have you got?”
Anna looked up at Nigel, setting the laptop on the round table in front of her and pointing at the screen. “Milton has fourteen bank accounts in the US, Canada, and the Grand Cayman Islands. He also has three insurance policies and five numbered companies. Then there are the businesses.”
Nigel got up, walked to her side of the table, and crouched beside her. She had all the information itemized on a spreadsheet. “Any idea on the total amount stashed away?”
“Twenty-seven point six seven million using today’s rates of exchange. He uses mostly US and Canadian dollars, but a few of the investments are in gold.”
Nigel looked at the spreadsheet. It’s all there.
“Not surprising when you realize he has a very large and very cheap labour force at his disposal.”
“He does have that.”
“What’s the baby’s mom like?” Anna asked.
“Young. It’s her first child. She escaped the polygamist community and was excommunicated.”
“Then why do they want her baby?”
Nigel shook his head. “Maybe her mother wants to punish her some more for not being obedient. Obedience is a big thing for the women. I think it’s called being sweet. Apparently it all started when Christine cut her hair short. That was a big deal for her mother.”
Anna nodded. “What does the baby look like?”
“I’ve only seen pictures, but he has lots of black hair and brown eyes.”
“Olson.”
“What?” Where is she going with this?
“The alias on the passport. The birthdates are the same. The last name is Olson on the false passport, but not on the credit cards. Ditto Williams. Not very imaginative.”
“We’re talking the killers now?”
Anna nodded.
“Thanks. Now I can check the passenger lists.”
“You have to see this video. It’s a baby laughing.” Anna didn’t wait for him to respond. She tapped the track pad. A full-screen video of a round, laughing baby in diapers came into focus. Anna laughed and heads turned. Nigel heard the echo of her laughter bouncing off the walls and the ceiling. He was unable to stop smiling.
“Olson? You’re joking?” Lane talked on the phone as he sat upstairs on the couch. All was quiet at home, at least for the moment.
“No joke. The names match flights to New York, Toronto, and Cancun. Olson and Williams were there at the time of each of the murders.”
“You sound tired.”
“I am.”
I need to apologize. “I’m sorry for what I said.”
“I’ve been thinking about that.”
“And?” Just listen. Let him talk!
“You might be right.” Nigel hung up.
Lane got up, went down the stairs to the family room and then down into the basement office where he sat down, logged on, and typed an e-mail message.
Keely,
Hope you and Dylan are surviving the winter and enjoying yourselves.
I was hoping you could help with a case. We have a male and a female who may have false passports. I don’t want them to be aware we are taking a close look at them. Their names are Andrew and Cori Pierce. Aliases are Clayton Olson and Karly A. Williams.
Our investigation is leading us to believe the couple may be linked to a series of homicides. Are you able to confirm they have travelled under two or more separate identities?
Christine’s baby is home and doing well.
Say hello to Dylan for me.
Lane
FRIDAY, JANUARY 31
chapter 12
Institute Backs Out of Defence for Accused Abductors
Orson Nelson, president of the Canadian Celestial Institute, says his organization is no longer able to defend Efram Milton, Alison Milton, and Lyle Pratt against charges of attempted child abduction.
In explaining this change of position on Thursday, Nelson said, “I have asked the RCMP to initiate a criminal investigation into the theft of money from the CCI defence fund.”
Nelson spoke from his home in Paradise, Alberta. Paradise is the polygamist community to which the three accused belong.
The CCI President was not specific about the amount of money missing but says it is “significant.”
“What’s up with you today?” Lori pointed at Lane’s clothing. He wore a thick blue cotton shirt with a black T-shirt underneath, and blue jeans. “I almost didn’t recognize you.” She pointed at her tan leather boots reaching almost to her knees. “You need a pair of these if you want to fit in at the U of C.”
“I don’t think I’m fooling anyone when I pretend to be a student. Still, I need to keep an eye on Professor Pierce.” Lane glanced to his left at his red backpack.
“You’re taking a long, hard look at the him.”
He nodded. “I have to turn off the ringer on my phone while I’m in class. Would you text me if Keely or Nigel wants to get in touch?”
Lori reached out, putting her hand on his elbow. “Be careful with Cori and her professor. Watching Cori operate made the hair on the back of my neck start doing a tango. If you’re right about them, they’ll be like that other guy.”
“Moreau?” Lane reached for his coat.
“That’s the one. Charming. Lethal. Good at fooling almost everyone.”
“I try not to make any assumptions or reach conclusions early on. Still, I think you’re correct. Indications are pointing that way.” He leaned over to pick up the backpack.
“So you trust my gut?”
“Sometimes my gut is exactly what gets me looking at a suspect. The feeling that something isn’t quite right. The feeling you need to keep your guard up, that you can’t turn your back on a person.” Lane hooked the backpack over his shoulder. “How do I look?”
Lori reached out, adjusting his collar. “Have a good day at school.”
Lane laughed out loud.
“Why isn’t Nigel doing this job? He’s much more likely to pass as a student than you.”
“He’s tracking down passports. And, at least for the time being, I’d like to keep him away from these two.”
“Bad karma?”
Lane leaned his head right, then left. “Something like that. I think Andrew Pierce might remind Nigel of his father and cloud his judgement.”
“He’s having a rough go with this one.”
She’s noticed it, too. “From the very first day we went to the scene.”
Lori nodded. “Scars.”
“What’s that?”
“Just like you and me. He’s got scars.”
Lane sat in the back row of the main-floor lecture theatre at the University of Calgary’s education building. Thankfully, the massive man-spreading football player liked to sit in the same place in the second from last row. Lane crouched behind him. He sipped from the coffee he’d bought at the kiosk in the foyer, taking notes with his right hand, glancing at the iPad for any incoming messages.
“Street smarts. There’s a difference between street smarts and the kind of intelligence measured by standardized tests.”
Lane looked at Pierce, who stood behind the lectern. He wore a black shirt, black jeans, and a pair of black cowboy boots. The same pair of young women sat below Lane and at eye level with Pierce. Lane noted Pierce still looked their way when he talked. “One of the guys I went to high school with was of below-average IQ. He’s a millionaire today, because he has street smarts.”