“From who?”
“My brother.”
“Joseph came to see you?”
Lane heard disbelief in her voice. “Surprised me too.”
“Do you think this means my mom is crazy?”
“Mental illness would certainly explain some of her behaviour. I’m just not sure what it will mean in the long run.”
“Could it be a step in the right direction, though?”
Lane nodded. “It looks like Alison is excommunicated, and Milton is on the run.”
“This is a good thing?”
“I hope so. The problem is I’ve learned not to trust my brother or my sister.”
“Me too.” Christine smiled as Indiana wrapped a hand around her forefinger.
FRIDAY, FEBRUARY 7
chapter 19
“Donna Liu called. She asked you to meet her at this address at eleven o’clock.” Lori leaned to one side of her computer so she could see him and held up a piece of paper.
Lane stopped, backtracked, picked up the piece of paper, and read the address. “It’s her house.”
“She said she’d be there at that time. Something about waiting for contactors, taking her son to the doctor, and going to the bank. It sounded like she was in a rush.”
Lane stepped into his office, spotted Nigel behind his computer. “Grab your coat. We gotta go.”
Five minutes later they drove past the Bow Tower, a blue glass building shaped like a wave with crisscrossing metal beams reaching over two hundred metres. It appeared to be tickling the belly of the chinook arch. The warm winds had turned snow, ice, sand, and salt into a kind of brown soup coating city roads and sidewalks.
“I need to let you know about a few things.” Nigel concentrated on the traffic, anticipating the movements of an SUV crabbing across three lanes of traffic. It hit a patch of brown snow. A brown wave of the soupy mixture hit their windshield. Nigel turned on the wipers.
Lane looked left at his partner. “All right.”
“I’ve know Anna for years. She was always kind of out there. We knew she was smart. She used to drive her parents and the teachers crazy, because she would never hand in any assignments. I asked her about it one time, and she told me handing stuff in for marks was against her ethics. Then she got into trouble because she thought a teacher was unfair to one of the kids in her class. Anna hacked into the system’s computers and changed the kid’s mark. One of the other kids found out and told someone. They caught Anna, and she was suspended for a week. She was our hero from then on. I went to her after my dad killed my mom, because I knew he’d hidden money away in various accounts. I didn’t want to live with my uncle and aunt, and I needed money. Anna agreed to get the money for me. We worked out a business arrangement. She got a percentage, and I got enough money to keep me going for at least fifteen years. After we graduated, we kept in touch.”
Lane looked down along 6th Avenue. “How did she graduate if she never handed anything in?”
Nigel smiled. “At the time, provincial exams counted for fifty percent of our grade twelve marks. She got one-hundred percent on every one of her exams.”
“She went to university?”
Nigel shook his head. “She went freelance. She tracks down information about various political and financial institutions. She calls it massaging investments. Prides herself with getting in and out without anyone being the wiser. Again, it’s all guided by her ethics.”
“What does that mean?”
“Let’s just say if the people who were screwed by Bernie Madoff and other Ponzi schemes hired her, they would be smiling today.”
“How smart is she?” Lane opened his jacket to cool off. He looked left, spotting a guy wearing shorts and a hoodie walking along the river pathway with a package in his arms.
“I don’t know the numbers, if that’s what you’re asking. All I know is she bought her house and lives in a suite in the basement in Brentwood. She has this strict routine she lives by, and does jobs for people who need their money traced. She always has meetings with clients at the public library near her house. To keep the library happy, she makes a sizable donation every year.”
Why are you telling me all of this? Lane looked at the river poking a mini-mountain range of ice up along the edge of the Bow.
“I’m telling you this because she traced proposed murder blogs back to Dr. Pierce’s personal computer. We can’t use the evidence, but now I’m sure we’re after the right pair.” Nigel glanced to his right to gauge Lane’s reaction.
Before you tell him it was wrong, remember how you never revealed what you know about Uncle Tran, and how it has benefitted victims, you, and your family for years. “Is Anna in danger? If she’s taking money away from ruthless people, they aren’t going to be happy about it.”
“I don’t think so. Anna is very good. She explained that Milton has over twenty million – well, now it’s down by five. She’s also going after the money the Pierces have stashed away.”
“What!?”
“Haven’t you been reading the paper? Donations have been made to the Children’s Hospital, the Red Cross…”
“Shit! It was you!”
“It was Anna. I told you, it’s an ethical thing with her. She researched Milton, who publicly claimed all of the money raised in Paradise goes to support his community. She traced several private accounts in his name where the money is stashed. Anna says he’s lying, she knows where the money is, he exploits the women and children in his community, and she’s going after what he values most. She’s getting ready to do the same with the killers. Keep watching the papers. In the next week or so you may see reports of more donations to various local charities.” Nigel eased into the left lane, putting his foot down on the accelerator as they climbed out of the river valley.
“It’s dangerous work.” Lane watched the LRT scoot up the hill alongside them.
“She says she’s very careful about being a ghost.”
“I’m talking about both of you.”
Nigel glanced at Lane as they crested the hill. “How so?”
“You’re walking a tightrope. Be careful which side you come down on.”
They travelled in silence along Bow Trail, past the golf course and condos, then up the hill into Cougar Ridge. They parked across the street from Donna’s two-storey home. The chinook had eaten away at the snowdrifts on either side of the driveway. Water dripped from the tips of snowdrifts hanging from the roof. It ran down the gutters and cascaded into storm sewers. Lane pulled the phone out of his pocket and saw it was five after eleven. A white SUV pulled up and parked in Donna’s driveway. She got out of the driver’s side and her son, still wearing a neck brace, climbed down out of the rear seat. Lane saw him turn his back on his mother and walk to the front door.
Donna shook her head. Her shoulders sagged. She stood in her black leather coat and black high-heeled boots watching him go.
Lane climbed out of the Chev, stepping through the slick crust of a snowdrift. He leaned on the side of the car as he walked around and onto the treacherous surface of melting ice and snow. Donna turned, saw the approaching detectives, and waited with her purse hung over her shoulder. The wind plucked the edges of her red skirt. She waved at them to follow as she walked around the side of the house and back to her shop. They waited as she reached inside of her purse, took out her keys, opened the door, and turned on the lights.
Lane closed the door behind them, standing next to Nigel on the carpet.
Donna dropped her purse onto one of the chairs, took off her coat, and hung it on the door leading to the rest of the house.
Lane noted the room was nearly completed. “How’s Hansen?”
“The doctor says he’s doing well and the brace can come off in a week.” She crossed her arms, shaking her head.
Lane waited.
Nigel asked, “What’s up?”