Roz accelerated. “I’m not running!” Arthur walked.
Lane ran toward a tight gathering of birds. A few had their beaks tucked under their wings. The setting sun made all of the colours richer. Lane inhaled the cooling mountain air. He looked ahead. The geese were running, flapping their wings, and a few rose into the air. Lane looked to his right. The birds were a wave of motion alongside of him.
Arthur began to run.
Lane was in among the birds now. On his left, he was eye to eye with a goose whose wingspan matched the detective’s height. On his right, a smaller bird was honking at ear level.
Christine cried out. Lane smiled at the pure joy in her voice. The birds rose above their heads. Daniel screamed with exhilaration. Lane stopped, open-mouthed, to look up. The cloud of undulating, honking bodies began to turn toward the city centre.
Someone ran into Lane. Lane’s jaw snapped shut on his tongue. He tripped and fell.
Arthur tumbled onto the grass beside Lane.
Daniel handed Lane a glass full of ice. Lane lifted the glass in thanks and slipped a cube into his mouth. He winced as the ice touched his bruised and swollen tongue.
Matt came upstairs. “Your clothes are in the wash.”
Christine took a bag of ice, wrapped it in a towel, and laid it gently on Arthur’s ankle, propped on two pillows at one end of the couch. Three pillows at the other end cushioned his head. “Owwww,” he said. “Thanks.”
Lane closed his eyes and smiled at the memory of all those birds rising into an orange sky.
“Ewwww!” Christine backed away from Arthur.
“What?” Arthur turned his head.
“I’ll get you a tissue.”
“What?” Arthur waved his hands in confusion.
“You’ve got goose shit in your ear!”
THURSDAY, AUGUST 30
chapter 16
Lane stared at Keely, who had her hair down and wore jeans, red shoes, and a black T-shirt. She looked five years younger and decidedly unhappy with what she was wearing. Lori was frowning. They’re going to try to drag me into a discussion about clothes so that I won’t think about Arthur and tomorrow’s operation, Lane thought.
Keely frowned. “How much do you want to bet I end up following Zacki into a mall?”
Lane looked at Lori for support. She glared back. “Don’t look at me and don’t say anything, because anything you say could and should be held against you.” Lori pointed a pencil at him as if she were about to stab it into his eyeball.
“You both look great,” Lane said. Hurry, change the subject.
Lori pointed her pencil in the air. “He’s learning.”
“Have you heard from our man in The Hague?” Lane mumbled.
Lori let the tip of her pencil point at the desktop. “You’ll be the first to know. What happened to your voice?”
“He bit his tongue.” Keely sat in the chair across from Lori’s desk.
Lori focused on Keely. “I smell a story.”
“He was chasing geese. Arthur ran into him. Lane had his mouth open.”
Don’t even try to explain, it’ll only make it worse.
“Arthur sprained his ankle, Lane bit his tongue, and they both got covered in goose droppings.” Keely covered her mouth in mock horror.
“No shit?” Lori fluttered her eyelashes. “Couldn’t you and Arthur spring for a room somewhere?”
“Time to go to work.” Lane picked up his jacket and waited for Keely.
“I’ll drive.” She put her hand out for the keys. He gave them to her.
“Good,” Lane said. “This time we have a full-size pickup.”
Inside the truck, Keely was all business. “The observation team is set. They have our cell numbers. Should we wait at the golf course? I figure it’s the least likely place for either Jelena or her daughter to go.”
“Sounds good.”
After the thirty-five-minute drive, Keely went into a coffee shop while Lane waited inside the truck. Then they drove to the parking lot of the private golf course across the street from Jelena’s condo complex. The detectives parked under a tree to drink their coffees and watch the luxury cars carry members to and from the club.
Lane looked at his watch. “It’s eight o’clock. How long do you think we’ll have to wait?”
“She’s what, fourteen??
Lane nodded. Keely laughed. “If she’s up by noon, we’ll be lucky.”
Keely was off by fifteen minutes. At 11:45, Lane’s phone rang.
“Thank god – if I have to look at anymore golfers practising their swings in the parking lot, I’ll have to shoot one of them. All those guys at the Scotch drinkers’ club were golfers.” Keely sat up and started the engine.
Lane listened to the officer on the phone. “The subject is on foot and headed south.”
Keely pulled out of the parking lot and drove one kilometre to the main road, then turned south. They spotted Zacki walking along the sidewalk running along the east side of the roadway. Keely drove past her and into the parking lot where a bank, supermarket, pizza joint, and gas station were situated at each of the four corners of the mall. They parked next to a van. Lane watched the girl through a pair of binoculars.
“She always wears black?” Keely asked.
“Not sure.” Lane watched as Zacki walked in the front door of the gas bar and walked out three minutes later with a red plastic fuel container. An attendant followed her, filled the container, and took a bill from Zacki. She waited until he returned with the change.
“What does she need that for?” Keely asked.
“I’m guessing diesel fuel and fertilizer.”
“So?” Keely started the engine.
“Mix the two together, insert a detonator, and you’ve got an explosive device.” Lane watched as Zacki switched the container into her left hand and struggled up the sidewalk. “This will take a while.”
“How do you know so much about explosives?” Keely asked.
“Spent a summer with my cousins on my uncle’s farm in Saskatchewan. They mixed diesel fuel and high-nitrogen fertilizer and used it to blast a hole in the ground so they could make a cold room to store vegetables.”
“And they say Muslims are terrorists. Sounds like your family had its own cell in Saskatchewan. Do you think that maybe the Branimirs have a lawnmower?”
“Those run on gasoline. Besides, they live in a condo complex. Someone is hired to cut the grass.”
They watched Zacki walk up the hill, stop, set the fuel down, switch hands, and continue walking. It took her ten minutes to reach the gap in the fence she used as a shortcut to get back to her home.
“Maybe we should head back to the golf course,” Keely said.
Lane’s phone rang. “Yes?”
Keely tried to hear the other end of the conversation.
“Good, we’ll wait here.” Lane turned to Keely. “She put the fuel in the garage, then headed out again. She’s…” He looked through the field glasses. Zacki appeared through the gap in the fence. “…coming our way.”
About three minutes later, Zacki turned the corner across from the service station and waited at the bus stop. She reached into her pocket and began to talk on a cellphone.
“Here comes the bus,” Keely said.
The bus stopped. As it pulled away, Keely turned on the engine and followed it down Crowchild Trail, then accelerated to reach the train station ahead of Zacki.
“I’ve got my phone.” Keely pulled up at the train station, put the truck in park, picked up her purse, and got out. She glanced at Lane.
“I’ll be right behind you.” Lane slid over behind the wheel. He watched Keely as she walked across the bridge and down to the platform level. Three cars of the C train pulled up. Lane drove to the exit and waited at the lights. He put his phone on the seat next to him. When the light turned green, he turned left and followed the train as it rolled down the centre of Crowchild Trail.