Название: The Delicate Storm
Автор: Giles Blunt
Издательство: HarperCollins
Жанр: Зарубежные детективы
isbn: 9780007387748
isbn:
‘Tell us what you found,’ Cardinal said. ‘Then we’ll go take a look.’
‘I’m in the shop,’ Bergeron told them, ‘trying to resuscitate a ’74 Ski-Doo that should have been tossed on the junk heap twenty years ago. The dog starts barking. This is a very quiet dog, not usually a problem, and suddenly he’s barking like a maniac. I yell at him to shut up, but he keeps on yapping. Finally I come outside, and there he is in the backyard and – Why don’t you follow me? I’ll show you.’
Around the side, a two-storey house slumped against the garage as if it had lost consciousness. Bergeron led them past it to the backyard. ‘That’s it, right there,’ he said, pointing. ‘I dragged the dumb-ass dog straight into the house when I saw what it was. He was expecting me to congratulate him or something, but I was like, “This is unreal.”’
‘What time was this?’ Cardinal asked.
‘I don’t know – round ten, maybe?’
‘And you waited till now to call us?’
‘Well, how’m I supposed to know what to do? It didn’t seem like exactly an emergency. And to tell you the truth, I didn’t really want to think about it.’
Cardinal had seen a lot of unpleasant things in his twenty years as a cop, but he had never seen a human arm completely detached from its owner. They were standing maybe ten feet away. Ivan Bergeron showed no inclination to go closer. He planted his feet wide apart and folded his arms across his belly.
Cardinal and Delorme approached the thing.
‘You guys are taking it with you, I hope.’
‘Not right away,’ Cardinal said. ‘Are you certain the dog brought it here? You didn’t actually see him, right? You came out and found him barking at it?’
‘He must have dragged it in from the bush. He was rompin’ around out there for quite a while before he brung it back.’
Cardinal’s stomach was making odd manoeuvres. There was something unsettling about a part of a human being so absolutely out of place. It lay on a grubby crust of snow, pale white except for the black hair that curled thickly toward the elbow end, thinner toward the wrist. There were deep claw marks but very little blood.
‘Looks like someone had an argument with a bear,’ Cardinal said.
‘A bear?’ Delorme said. ‘Aren’t bears hibernating this time of year?’
‘They can get confused by a warm patch,’ Cardinal said. ‘It’s not unusual for them to wake up. And when they do, they tend to be peckish. Gonna be fun trying to ID this guy.’
‘Look at the hair on the forearm,’ Delorme said, pointing. ‘It’s grey.’
‘Yeah. We’ll have to run through Missing Persons for older men. In the meantime, we’re going to have to find whatever’s left of the guy.’
‘You’re gonna get that thing out of here, right?’ Bergeron said again. ‘I find I can’t work too good with an arm on my lawn.’
In the end, Ivan Bergeron had to work with an arm on his lawn for the entire afternoon. Cardinal got on the phone and ordered up as many off-duty constables as Mary Flower could muster. Then he called the Ontario Provincial Police and arranged for thirty officers. Last, he called the fire marshall and brought another thirty firemen to help – and most important, they brought with them three cadaver dogs. Cadaver dogs have nothing to do with the Dalmatians associated with fire stations; they are German shepherds trained to sniff out corpses in burned-out buildings that are too dangerous to send a human being into.
Within an hour Cardinal had a squad of constables, augmented by firemen and OPP cops, searching the woods, a small army of men and women in blue uniforms moving slowly among glistening pines and birches. No one spoke. It was as if they were in a movie with the sound turned off.
They tramped through sodden underbrush, the earth releasing rich smells of pine and rotting leaves. Branches stung their cheeks and clung to their hair. After about ten minutes Constable Larry Burke made the next discovery, this time a leg. Once again Cardinal experienced that weird tumbling sensation. What they were looking at was a man’s leg torn at the hip, whole at the foot, with tremendous rips in the flesh of the thigh.
‘Jesus,’ Delorme said.
‘Definitely a bear.’ Cardinal pointed to the wounds. ‘You can see there. And there. Thing must have teeth the size of your hand.’
The fog kept things slow. It was another two hours before they found more pieces of the body: another partially eaten leg and a lower torso so chewed as to be barely recognizable; one of the cadaver dogs had growled at it underneath the trunk of a fallen tree. Presumably the bear or bears had hidden it there to finish it off later.
Later Cardinal found a bit of ear and scalp with a pair of tinted aviator glasses still attached.
‘Does this distribution look random to you?’ he asked Paul Arsenault, who was photographing the glasses. ‘Or do you think somebody could have spread the parts around?’
‘You mean somebody not a bear?’
‘Somebody not a bear.’
Arsenault sat back on his haunches, chewing one end of his moustache. ‘If there’s a pattern, I don’t think we’re going to see it from here. We need an aerial view.’
‘The fog’s thinning, but we’re still not going to be able to see anything through the trees. Not even with red markers.’
Arsenault chewed the other end of his moustache. ‘We could put up helium balloons. My daughter had a birthday last week, and we’ve got a bunch of ’em at home.’
A constable was duly dispatched to Arsenault’s house and returned twenty minutes later with the balloons. They attached thirty yards of fishing line to each balloon, tied to a weight on the ground near each piece of evidence. Then the OPP took pictures from the air.
Cardinal and Delorme were back at Skyway Service Centre redeploying searchers when a black Lexus pulled up. Cardinal recognized it and sagged inwardly. Dr Alex Barnhouse was the kind of irritant an investigation didn’t need. A good coroner, true, but he ruffled feathers, and not just Cardinal’s.
Barnhouse rolled down his window. ‘Let’s get a move on, shall we? I haven’t got all day.’
Cardinal waved cheerily. ‘Hi there, Doc! How are you?’
‘Can we get moving, please?’
‘Isn’t this the most gorgeous day you’ve ever seen? The trees? The mist? Right out of a storybook, don’t you think?’
‘I can’t imagine anything less relevant.’
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