Lane and Keely looked at one chair behind a desk and another in front of it.
“I’d prefer to stand,” Keely said.
“Mladen said you two were nearly blown up in that explosion on the weekend.” Leo leaned on his crutch with his back to the glass door. “He phoned about ten minutes ago, and I thought the two of you might show up here. You’re here to see if we were working downtown on Sunday morning and we were.” Leo turned to look through the glass at his co-workers. “All the people I work with know so much about computers and so little about people.”
“Did you see anyone in the crowd who could verify your story?” Lane asked.
Leo looked at him. “Don’t know any names, but there are a few regulars who show up most Sundays.” He smiled. “You could always come next Sunday and check.”
“Dr. Weaver? It’s Detective Lane.” Lane sat in the Chev outside a café on Kensington Drive. Keely listened to Lane’s end of the conversation from behind the wheel.
“I just wanted to confirm that there’s a viable DNA sample from the remains of Andelko Borimir.” Lane waited and smiled at Keely. “Thank you. Oh? Sure. No problem.” Lane looked at the phone and pressed END. He looked at Keely. “Next time we drive by that café in Parkdale, he wants us to pick him up some more Nanaimo bars.”
“Will they be able to get DNA from the remains?” Keely asked.
“He thinks so.”
“Good. Let’s get a coffee and go visit Jelena.” Keely pulled the keys out of the ignition, checked her hair in the mirror, and eased out of the car.
Lane threw his paper cup in a garbage can two doors down from Jelena’s Alterations. Keely followed. Lane opened the door of the shop and looked inside. Three women were working at their sewing machines. Jelena wasn’t one of them.
“I’m here.”
The voice came from the parking lot. Jelena smoked a cigarette. She stood between a pickup truck and a van. She dropped the smoke. It rolled under the truck. “What you want?”
“A DNA sample to confirm that the remains we found are Andelko Branimir,” Keely said.
“From me? Go ahead.” Jelena moved closer.
“From your daughter. From Zarafeta,” Lane said.
“Go fuck yourself.” Jelena walked past them and into her shop. Not one of the women working on the sewing machines raised her head.
After they got back in the car, Keely said, “We need this. We need to prove that Andelko didn’t leave Calgary, and that he is the father of Zacki. That way we’ve got solid proof about the identity of the body. Otherwise, anyone could argue that we have only circumstantial evidence and Branimir really did go back to his old hometown.”
“Getting admissible evidence may be problematic,” Lane said.
“One way or another, we need to know we’re on the right track.”
“It’s not going to be easy.” Lane pulled on his seat belt.
“You’re forgetting something. I’ve never met the daughter.”
Lane looked at Jelena’s shop. He looked at Keely. “I wonder if any of the condominiums in that complex are up for sale?”
Lori looked up from her desk as Lane and Keely walked into the office. She gently hugged each of them in turn. “How come you’re here? You should be off work for at least a week.”
Lane refrained from stretching the sore muscles that were complaining after Lori’s hug. “We have a couple of things to do.”
Lori looked at Keely. “Don’t you be thinking that just because the big boy is back, you have to be back too.”
Keely said, “Whoever made that bomb tried to blow both of us up.”
“I thought you got the asshole – oh, sorry – the suspect.” Lori leaned back against the desk. “By the way, word’s getting around to the members of the Scotch drinkers’ club that they’d better lay off. Suddenly, the members’ list for the club has dropped down to one or two. People who were regular members are saying they only went to keep an eye on Smoke. Others are saying they only went to have a drink or two and talk with their friends. It’s all become very innocent. And nobody else is buying it.” Lori cocked her head in the direction of Gregory’s office. “Notice how he’s making himself scarce?”
We need to solve this case, not worry about Smoke and his buddies. “We need to get a DNA sample and we need your help. We also need to find out if your friend at The Hague can get any other photos of the woman in Borislav Goran’s militia unit.”
Keely looked at Lane. “Have you got the listing?”
Lane smiled. “We need to see if it’s possible to put a residence under surveillance.” He pulled a piece of paper from his pocket and handed it to Lori. “It’s for sale and it’s across the street from the Branimir residence.”
“How about a couple of real estate agents having an open house?” Lori asked.
“The kitchen overlooks Jelena’s home,” Keely said.
“I know just the pair for that job. I’ll get a call in right away.” Lori reached into her drawer. “And if I hurry, I might just catch our friend in The Hague.” She held up a business card. “He’s right here.”
Matt came upstairs to find Lane putting a leash on Roz. “Where are you going?” Matt yawned.
“Roz and I are thinking about taking a run down by the river.” Lane rubbed the dog behind the ears and stood up.
“Mind if I come along?” Matt went into the kitchen and filled a glass of water.
“Not at all.” Lane waited at the front door.
Christine came upstairs. “Where you goin’?”
“Down by the river to take Roz for a walk.” Matt stuck his feet into his running shoes.
“Can we come?” Christine asked.
“Sure,” Lane said.
“Daniel! Wanna go for a walk?” Christine yelled down the stairs.
Arthur’s eyes opened. “What?” He sat up on the couch.
“We didn’t want to wake you after you had all of those tests today,” Matt said.
“I’m coming too,” Arthur said.
The six of them sat cheek to cheek in the Jeep. Roz had the back of the cabin to herself and licked Christine behind the ear.
“Hey!” Christine wiped at her ear. Arthur turned to see what was up. Matt looked at Daniel, who was blushing. Christine laughed. “It was Roz!”
It took twenty minutes to reach the soccer fields on the flats between the river, the football fields, and the Trans-Canada Highway.
Lane parked on the gravel on the west side of the fields. The sun drew a shadow line halfway up the Douglas firs. The trees wrapped their roots into the steep, towering bank on the south side of the river.
Daniel and Christine squeezed out of the Jeep. “Which way are we going?” Daniel asked.
“Just wait.” Matt lifted the rear door and put a leash on Roz. He walked toward the pathway heading east while Arthur, Christine, and Daniel looked west at the sky with its oranges and pinks. The sound of the river was soothing background music to Roz’s panting, their footsteps, and intermittent conversation.
“Look at all the birds.” Christine pointed north.
The soccer field was dotted with the blacks, whites, and greys of Canada geese foraging on the grass. A pair of birds flared their wings, honked, and whistled overhead. Lane watched them land.
Matt jabbed him in the ribs with an elbow. “Ready?”
“You bet.” Lane walked off the path and onto the grass.
“What are you doing?” Daniel asked.
Matt bent to free Roz from the leash. “Sit.” She reluctantly agreed while she whimpered.
“Ready?” Lane asked.
“For what?” Daniel looked at Matt and Roz.
“Spread out,” Matt said.
“Cool.” Daniel looked at the hundreds of birds in the field. Matt began to skip to the right. Lane ambled to the left. Matt was gaining momentum. “Run!”