Lane watched Harper’s face for a hint of a snicker.
“We don’t have a great deal of time, so I’ll get right to the point,” Dr. Dent said, apparently impervious to Harper’s sarcasm. “This dog’s name is Eddie. I’m trained to observe the dog and its people. This dog is only two years old, and it has been here often. The morning the Reddie child disappeared, we found it at the back door in a cardboard box.” The vet pointed at the dog’s injured leg. “It’s reasonable to assume the dog’s paw was struck with a hammer.” Dr. Dent then lifted the dog’s chin. “This ear was removed. Dogs sometimes have their ears tattooed or a microchip inserted. Remove either and remove any chance at positive identification.”
“You said you had information about the Reddie murders,” Harper said.
“Bobbie Reddie brought Eddie in on six separate occasions. In each case, the children were with her. Each of Eddie’s legs was broken once. Ribs were broken on either side of the rib cage. I know this dog is Eddie, but I can’t prove it. Ms. Reddie always insisted I give her the negatives when we took X-rays. I believe that Bobbie abused the dog to control the children,”
Dr. Dent said.
“What makes you think she’s responsible?” Harper asked.
“The way Eddie shied from Ms. Reddie, and the way the dog tried to stay close to the boy,” Dr. Dent said.
Lane noticed the woman was beginning to shake.
“But how can you be certain of this?”
“You have to understand.” Dr. Dent’s voice began to break. “My father did it to me. I know what she did to this animal. I know it in a way I can’t explain.” She began to sob. Eddie licked her hand. “Someone has to protect that child. This Bobbie, I know what she is.” Dr. Dent’s eyes were dripping tears, and her nose started to run. She had no free hand, so she bent to wipe her nose on the back of her sleeve. “You musn’t think I’m a crazy person. I know that the child is in danger. I don’t know what the law allows you to do, but…”
Lane took the file from her and handed her a tissue.
“Could we start with a hair and blood sample from Eddie? We may be able to do a DNA match. It’s a place for us to begin.”
“Of course.” Dr. Dent wiped her nose. “I’ll do it right away.”
Harper asked, “What time was the dog found?”
“When Helen arrived at 7:00 AM,” Dr. Dent said. “Eddie tucked himself close to Cole and never took his eyes off of Ms. Reddie.”
Harper drove as they headed back to the centre of town.
“What the hell was that all about?” Harper asked. “I mean one minute she’s very definitely in control and the next she’s in tears.”
Lane thought while he read the other side of the sign next to Bobbie’s church. This side read: Out of the depths I cry out to you O Lord.
Lane said, “We’ll have to wait for the results of the DNA tests. If Dent’s right, then the dog hairs on Kaylie’s clothing will match Eddie’s.”
“The problem is, none of this stuff is the kind of evidence we need to make a conviction. We’d get laughed out of court with the Jamaica resort story, Eddie’s DNA, and the shredded car. The defense would say we’ve been reading too many tabloids, and they’d be right.”
“Still, we have to see the patterns developing here. Three separate incidents where careless smoking was linked to fatalities. A new car is destroyed and any potential evidence is conveniently destroyed right along with it. On top of this, there is mounting pressure to close the case and clear Bobbie. It’s when you look at all that we’ve got that this case begins to become clear.”
“I’m not so sure. It’s like Bobbie’s been your prime suspect from the first time you met her,” Harper said.
Lane said, “You’re right. But that doesn’t make me wrong. If we hurry, we might catch Bobbie’s brother at the university.”
In fifteen minutes, they drove past the university’s arts parkade, where Jay’s Lincoln was parked, and pulled up at the meters in front of the education building. “His class is in the there. First floor,” Harper pointed at the brick building. He turned of the engine and palmed the keys.
Lane stepped out of the Chevy.
The sun was warm on their backs, but the wind’s cool breath promised that winter was on its way. They pulled open the doors of the education building and stepped inside. On the left was a coffee shop, chairs, and tables. On the right was the room they were looking for. Lane pulled a copy of Jay’s photo ID out of his pocket and studied it. “Need to take a look?” He handed it to Harper.
They pulled on the door and walked inside the lecture theatre.
Jay always sat at the front, so the tape recorder could pick up the professor’s voice. He looked over his shoulder at the clock and saw the pair of detectives. When he was a kid, he had learned to spot them. After his parents died in the fire, there were police all over the front yard. He had made up a game of guessing which ones were the police, which ones were the reporters, and who the spectators were. It had been a way to keep his mind off what happened to his parents. Between sobs he’d tried to explain what he knew about Bobbie, but the police had ignored him and listened only to his sister.
These detectives stood just inside the door. The one with the moustache was younger and looked like a football player. The older one was about the same height, had thinning hair, and it looked like he was missing part of his ear. He didn’t look like a cop. There was something different about him, Jay decided.
Jay shuddered when he remembered the accident on Crowchild Trail. He thought about the Toyota pickup. He saw it veer off the pavement and up onto its side in a cloud of dust and debris.
Jay turned around, reached into his backpack and lifted out a toque. He pulled it on.
Lane scanned the crowd. The class was filling up.
Harper said, “Excuse me. We’re police officers looking for Jay Krocker.” He showed the driver’s license photo of Jay to a man of about forty-five with an athletic build and a ready smile.
The professor was caught off balance, “I’ve got eighty-five students in this class. He doesn’t look familiar.”
Lane thought for a minute, then said, “Would you ask if he’s here?” He looked past Jay and up at the officers as students looked at one another and shrugged. “Sorry,” the professor said, a little too quickly.
Harper held up his right hand as if to say thank you.
Lane began to walk down the stairs. Students looked up at him. He studied their faces.
“Is that all you need? I would like to get this class started,” the professor said.
Lane spotted a student wearing a toque. The student stood up and made for the door to his left. The door closed behind him.
Lane followed and opened the door. He looked right and left down the empty hallway.
Harper came around the corner to Lane’s left. Lane ran to his right and reached the end of the hallway. The door to his left led outside. A clutch of students came through the door. Lane looked right. The hallway was empty.
“Well?” Harper pulled up next to Lane.
“All we’ve done is scare him off,” Lane said.
“Today’s not a total loss. I mean, we’ve got the dog’s blood and hair sample. Maybe we’ll get a match with Kaylie’s clothing,” Harper said.
“Jay, over here!”
Jay almost had a heart attack. He turned and saw Rosie. Black leather jacket, blue pants and cowboy boots. He thought, How is it possible for one person to look so good? Jay looked around to see if the police officers were nearby.
“Come on, we can talk and walk.” Rosie adjusted the nylon book bag hanging from a strap on her shoulder. “I always carry too many books on Tuesday.”