“IT’S ALL VERY INTERESTING,” said Carol. “How did my car end up in Kaslo? Someone must have given you a lift to pick up your jeep. Is that who you are meeting this afternoon?”
“Yes. We are going for a boat ride. Like to come?”
That shook her. “A boat ride! What for?”
“Looking for a big Chris Craft with a flying bridge. Know where we’ll find it?”
“OK, I’ll come with you,” Carol said after a moment. “Who are we going with?”
“Win. And Dotchka.”
“Win! Why the dog?”
“She’d met the murderers.”
“And you think she’ll point them out to you!”
“Cut it out, Carol. You can’t get under my skin. You heard that discussion between Rita and Nancy while you were getting dressed. You wanted to know where you stood with them. You know the danger you’re getting them into. Is it worth it?”
“You tried to get me kicked out. Turn them against me.” She laughed. “We will struggle for their hearts and minds between us, eh, Helen. Their stupid bourgeois hearts and minds! What a gas!”
“Why is it so important to you then? Since you despise them as you do.” I tried to keep my anger in check, knowing she wanted me to lose it.
“Don’t be stupid! I’ve nowhere else to go. Thanks to you,” she burst out.
“So you are trying to ‘take over’ Womens Acres, infiltrate this outpost of the women’s movement, so to speak.”
“I’ll give it a try. They’re so easy to manipulate, to guilt, blind with baffle-gab. You do it very well too, you know. ‘Trust should work both ways.’ Neat. You and I should be working together.”
“We aren’t.’
“No.”
We drove in silence.
“Why did you tell me about Win and offer to take me on your boat ride?” she said finally. “I could sabotage the whole enterprise.”
“To confuse you. We’ll find the boat sooner or later. Just knowing it’s around is enough.”
“Oh?” She thought about that for a moment. “And will you also tell me what you know about Ben’s death? Just to confuse me further?”
“Sure. You can buy a paper,” I said.
I told her where Ben’s body was found, about the station wagon with Alberta plates, and about the RCMP hunt for the two strangers missing from it. She listened closely, following all the implications with no trouble at all.
“These aren’t our two guys from the states, I take it,” she said.
“No way.”
“Well, it looks like an open and shut case. Nice work.”
“Yes, your ex-friends are very thorough. I wonder how they plan to dispose of you.”
“Oh, don’t try to scare me. I know the score. I am not a dumb tourist from Alberta.”
“Neither were they.”
“You know who they are!”
“Yes. And I intend to find them. Dead or alive.”
“And avenge them and Ben, I suppose. Very commendable.”
“If I can.”
“With me as bait.”
“Possibly.”
“Beautiful, just beautiful! So you don’t want me at Womens Acre’s when the shit hits the fan. You have a soft spot for your sisters.”
“Something like that.”
“How do you justify setting me up for the sacrifice? Thought it was against your principles.”
“You’re in the game. I’m not sacrificing you. You are doing that all by yourself.”
We pulled into Kaslo with time to spare. The VW was still stuck on the beach. I let Carol off to find a tow truck before the Mounties did it for her. I stayed around to watch for Win and discourage underage vandals who showed a lot of interest in the abandoned vehicle. She was back in 10 minutes.
“Charlie said he’ll get it out and fix it. He knows it belongs to Dean so that’s all right. Why don’t we go get a beer?”
We had a beer. Then another. Win didn’t join us until almost three. Artemis was right. Nobody keeps time in the West Kootenays. Win was natty in brand new jeans and a freshly laundered check shirt. He and Carol seemed to know each other well without being close friends. I explained to Win.
“Carol knows where we might find that boat. She’s been on it, haven’t you Carol?” I sprung it on her.
“Oh?” said Win.
“It’s probably the ARC company boat. A1 Shoreman got to use it sometimes. So I’ve been on it. Its just an executive perk. Tax write-off, you know.”
“No, I don’t know. What was it doing here in the middle of last night?”
“Perhaps some bigwigs went for a moonlight ride.”
“So we’re no further ahead, is that it, Helen?” Win turned to me.
“I wouldn’t say that. That boat explains a good deal given the geography of this area. There’s only one north-south road on this side of these mountains. Easy to block, to monitor. Takes time to get from one end of the valley to the other. It figures they would use water for the really tricky stuff. Like bodies, dead or alive. In my opinion neither Ben nor his truck were anywhere near Kokanee Glacier Provincial Park when he got killed. He was brought there to make us think he was and to point to the two strangers. They were kidnapped and spirited away across the lake by boat. Nobody saw any other vehicle but theirs.”
“You sure it was ARC?” asked Win. “A1 Shoreman killed Ben?”
“Perhaps we should ask Carol,” I said. “She and Shoreman are good friends. At least they registered as Mr. and Mrs. in a Seattle hotel not too long ago.”
For a moment too dumbfounded to speak, Carol managed to collect herself in record time. “What’s that got to do with Ben’s death? I know, I know, A1 did a bit of smuggling on company time and with company equipment but so what? Everyone does that at one time or another. Anyway he got fired last week or so. I don’t see how either he or ARC are involved in Ben’s murder.”
“Good try, Carol,” I said. I turned to Win. “Rather than a nice boat ride, I suggest we check up on ARC directly. Where do they keep that boat officially? What other unlikely equipment do they own or rent? Like a pontoon plane. What contracts do they hold and where? Are all their crews where they are supposed to be? Know anyone who might give us a lead on all this, Win?”
“Yeah, sure,” Win replied but he was looking at Carol. “Leave it to me. Yeah, sure. But I wish I knew what you’re up to, Helen. If you’re right about Shoreman and ARC it doesn’t make sense to bring Carol here and plan in front of her. Won’t she tip him off?”
“Carol didn’t murder old Ben, Win. Why would she help those who did?”
We all knew that was more for her benefit than his. But Win nodded, apparently satisfied.
“Ok. Same time, same place tomorrow?” he asked. “It’s Saturday.”
“Right. Good luck,” I said.
Rather reluctantly, I thought, Win finished his beer and drifted off.
Carol sat over her second beer, silent. Her face was drawn, her body slumped, her eyes almost closed. She put her head down on her folded arms and sighed. “I’m tired,” she said.
“No wonder. Reaction. Better get some rest. Wonder if your VW is ready.”
She lifted her head. “You’re not going back to the farm?”
“Not yet. But I’ll be there tonight. Count on it.”
“Aren’t you worried about leaving me alone with Rita and the rest? I could influence them,” Carol prodded with a flash of her old spirit.
“Worried? Not a bit. You are in no shape to influence anybody. Anyway, I’ve faith in them. Let’s go get the VW.”
She heaved herself onto her feet and followed me out of the hotel bar. I stopped at the front door and looked around.
“What’s the betting that your Charlie at the garage called Dean about his car? And told him you were around? Dean could be waiting for you.’’
“God, I never thought of that. My mind’s not working. Yes, of course. But, … it doesn’t matter … I mean, Dean wouldn’t …”
“Oh, wouldn’t he! Now who’s being sentimental! Call him. Call Charlie’s.”
Back in the hotel lobby, I gave Carol a quarter, watched her find the number and dial.
“Charlie, it’s Carol. Is that VW ready?” She listened. “Oh good. I’ll be right there to pick it up. Thanks.” Carol hung up and turned to me. “It’s ready. But I bet he called Dean and expects him there momentarily.”
“How did you figure that out?” I was curious.
“By the way he spoke. Sort of cutsey. Like he expected a lovers’ meeting. He wasn’t like that before.”
“OK. Here, take the jeep keys. Get in it and drive back like hell. Stop for nothing. I’ve been wanting a talk with Wonder Boy.”
She took the keys and looked at me wonderingly. “Boy, you take some chances,” she said. I didn’t know whether she meant giving her my jeep or going to meet Dean. Probably both.
“It’s all designed to confuse you, remember,” I answered.
“Well, it’s working.” She smiled tiredly and walked away. I followed at a distance. The jeep was parked on the street, not on the hotel lot. From a shaded doorway I watched her get in, and pull away.
I went back, had another beer and a hot dog. In spite of my flippancy I knew I was running a grave risk in trusting Carol. Yet she was surely the key. If she would only cooperate … She couldn’t be brow-beaten, tricked or argued into it. It had to be voluntary.
On the face of it, it was ridiculous to expect an instant miraculous conversion, against the grain of years of political commitment reinforced by personal loyalties. Yet that was exactly what I was looking for from Carol. Admittedly, circumstances were on my side. The stress of dangerous and quickly moving events works like a microwave oven. Fast. Ideas which normally take months to absorb now have only days; crucial decisions must be taken in minutes rather than weeks or hours. Carol knew she would be destroyed unless she made some changes. She knew it was the doing of her terrorist comrades, none of mine. If they hadn’t exposed so clearly how little they trusted her, how little her loyalty counted, nothing I did or said could make any difference. It could prove a fatal error on their part.
I finished my beer and found the back door. Out into the parking lot and back alley. First I wanted to find Dean’s wheels. Probably that souped-up truck I saw at his place that Laura had a hankering for. Kaslo is a small place, he wouldn’t have left it very far.
It was mid-afternoon and hot. Not many pedestrians on the streets. I walked from alley to alley, keeping in the shade and crossing streets only after a thorough check in all directions. Of course Carol could’ve been wrong. Charlie mightn’t have called Dean, the whole thing could be a figment of her imagination. But my bet was on Carol’s ability to psych out any sexual implications in a man’s voice, even over the phone. She’d had lots of practice.
Charlie’s Garage wasn’t one of the slick ones catering to tourists but rather a two pump, one-man-and-a-boy operation where the locals had their old cars fixed. Charlie was a mechanic, not a gas jockey. Low overhead in a rundown building on a side street and all the business he could handle. I figured old customers used the alley entrance to the shop rather than the tacky front drive with its outmoded pumps. That’s where Carol would be expected to appear. Through the back. So I tried the front. The little street with its assortment of cheap bungalows and one-and-a-half storey wooden houses was almost empty of people. Just cars and a few trucks parked here and there along its length.
I scanned them carefully. Dean’s truck wasn’t among them. I tried the closest cross-street and there it was! Dean must be very sure of himself to have left his rather distinctive opulent vehicle just around the corner from the garage. A half-assed attempt at concealment by an arrogant man who wasn’t really expecting to be challenged.
I walked up to the truck boldly. It was open, keys in the ignition. Well, that wasn’t unusual in this area. I pocketed the keys and went on to find Dean.