Black Fly Season. Giles Blunt

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      ‘I don’t,’ the girl said. ‘Not at the moment.’

      ‘Do you know what day it is?’

      ‘Um, no.’

      Regis shifted her down off his lap and stood up. ‘I think you and me have something to discuss outside.’

      Jerry ignored him. ‘Do you know where you are?’ he said to the girl.

      ‘Somebody told me a while ago, but I forget.’

      ‘Did you hear me?’ Regis said. ‘I can understand why you might not want to go back to your squaw, but that doesn’t give you the right to—’

      Jerry didn’t look at him. He just reached into his jacket and pulled out his shield and held it out an inch from the guy’s nose.

      ‘Oh, hey, I’m sorry, man. I didn’t realize.’

      ‘Do you have any ID?’ Jerry said to the girl. ‘A wallet? Credit card? Something with your name on it?’

      ‘No, I don’t have anything like that.’

      Regis tapped Jerry on the shoulder, shifting into I’m-the-nicest-guy-in-the-world mode. ‘No hard feelings, okay? Do you think she’s all right? I’m kinda worried about her.’

      ‘Would you come with me, miss? I want to take you someplace safe.’

      The girl shrugged. ‘Okay. Sure.’

      Blaine watched Regis follow them to the exit, apologizing the whole way. It was the kind of sight that did a bartender’s heart good.

      In the car, Jerry asked where she was from.

      ‘I don’t know. This is a nice car you have here.’

      ‘Where have you been staying?’

      ‘Staying?’

      ‘Yeah. I’m guessing you’re from out of town. Who are you staying with?’

      ‘I don’t know. That’s a nice building, is that a school?’

      They passed Ecole Secondaire Algonquin and headed uphill. Jerry made a left on McGowan. ‘You have a lot of black fly bites on you. Were you out in the woods?’

      ‘Is that what these are?’ Her left hand rose absently and rubbed at the red blotches along her hairline. ‘They’re itchy. I have them all over my ankles, too. They kind of hurt.’

      ‘Were you out in the woods?’

      ‘Yes. This morning. I woke up there.’

      ‘You slept outside? Is that why you have leaves in your hair?’

      ‘Leaves?’ Again, the pale, freckled hand rose to her curls. No wedding ring, Jerry noticed.

      ‘Red, do me a favour, will you? Could you just check your pockets and see if you have any ID on you?’

      She patted her pockets, felt inside. From her jeans, she pulled out some coins and a pair of nail clippers. She offered Jerry a Lifesaver, which he declined.

      ‘That’s all I have,’ she said.

      ‘No keys?’

      ‘No keys.’

      Someone must have removed them, Jerry was pretty sure. People don’t tend to go out with no keys. He parked in a spot near the emergency entrance of City Hospital. The lights of Algonquin and Main curved away from the hill below them.

      ‘You know, I don’t think I need a hospital. They’re only insect bites.’

      ‘Let’s just see if we can find out where you left your memory, okay?’

      ‘Okay. You look nice. Are you an Indian?’

      ‘Yes. You?’

      ‘I’m not sure. I don’t think so.’

      Her response was so solemn Jerry laughed. He’d never seen anyone who looked less Indian.

      In the ER, a young man behind the counter handed him a clipboard with a form on it.

      ‘We’re not going to be able to answer any of these questions,’ Jerry said. ‘Young lady’s got no ID and no memory.’

      The young man didn’t blink, as if amnesia cases walked in every night. ‘Just fill it out for Jane Doe, and approximate the rest of the stuff. The triage nurse will be with you shortly.’

      The girl sat humming tunelessly while they waited. Jerry filled out the form, writing ‘unknown’ over and over again. The room started to get busier. John Cardinal came in with a middle-aged man who looked like an assault victim. He nodded to Jerry. It was not unusual to bump into another cop in emerg; on a Friday night, you pretty much expected it. The triage nurse came over and talked to them for about three minutes, just long enough to order up a chem screen and put her on priority. Eventually, Dr Michael Fortis came out of an examining room and conferred with the nurse. Jerry went over; he’d worked with Fortis a lot.

      ‘Pretty slow for a Friday,’ Jerry said. ‘You sending them all to St Francis?’

      ‘You should have seen us an hour ago. We had two separate MVAs, cars got in arguments with moose up on Highway 11. One in the four-by-four wasn’t bad, but the guy in the Miata will be lucky if he ever walks again. Always happens this time of year. Black flies drive the moose out of the woods, and bam!’

      ‘I got something a little more unusual for you.’

      Twenty minutes later Dr Fortis came out of an examining room, shutting the door behind him.

      ‘This young woman is completely disoriented in time and space. She’s also showing flattened affect and a dramatic level of amnesia. She could be a schizophrenic or bipolar off her meds. Do we know anything at all about her?’

      ‘Nothing,’ Jerry said. ‘She may be local, but I doubt it. She says she woke up in the woods.’

      ‘Yes, I saw the bites.’

      An attendant handed the doctor a clipboard. He flipped a page once, twice. ‘Her chem screen. Negative for intoxicants. First thing I want to do is call the psychiatric hospital and see if any of their patients are awol. If everyone’s accounted for, I’ll call for a psych consult, but that won’t happen till morning. In the meantime, we’ll take a skull X-ray. Frankly, I don’t know what else to do.’

      He opened the examining-room door and brought the girl out.

      ‘Who are you?’ she said to Jerry.

      ‘Do you remember who I am?’ Dr Fortis said.

      ‘Not really.’

      ‘I’m Dr Fortis. The kind of trouble you’re having with your memory just now is usually a symptom of trauma. I’m going to take you down СКАЧАТЬ