‘Mr. Johnson, do you have any news for us?’
‘No, I’m sorry Mrs. Martin. We have been hitting walls everywhere we turn,’ Kenneth said into the phone.
‘She has been missing for almost a week now.’
‘Yes, I know. We are trying.’
There was silence on the line. ‘Tell me the truth Mr. Johnson.’
‘Yes?’
‘What are the chances of finding Janet alive after all this time?’ The whisper was so faint Kenneth had to strain to hear the words. Kenneth started to speak, but hesitated. ‘It’s OK Mr. Johnson. Just tell me the truth.’
‘The odds are not good.’
‘Thank you for your honesty.’
‘You’re welcome, ma’am. Is there anything you have not told us that may help? Anything at all? Even if it seems to be unrelated.’
‘Well, Janet was in Miami a few weeks ago.’
‘When was this?’
‘Ahh … Donald, when was Janet in Miami?’ Kenneth could hear a muffled conversation before Mrs. Martin came back on the line, ‘It was three months ago.’
‘Anything unusual happen?’
‘No, in fact something really good happened. She was given free tickets to anywhere in the US.’
‘And that is not unusual?’
‘I guess so,’ Mrs. Martin said after a pause. ‘She said she got the tickets because she gave up her seat on an overbooked flight. She came home a day late as a result. They even put her up in a hotel for the night.’ Mrs. Martin’s voice trailed away towards the end of the sentence.
‘Why are you remembering this now? It didn’t come up during our meeting.’
‘Well something funny happened two days ago. Someone broke into the house.’
‘And that’s funny?’
‘The only thing they stole was Janet’s passport.’
Jenny looked up from her crossword puzzle.
‘Devon House? What are we doing here? You taking the scenic route? Or you got lost?’ Jenny chuckled at her joke and looked across at Kenneth. Her smile froze. She noticed that he was glancing in the rearview mirror very often with a very worried look on his face. ‘What’s the matter?’ She started to turn around to look behind.
‘Don’t do that! You may alert them,’ Kenneth said hurriedly.
‘Alert who?’
‘Don’t know who they are. I noticed them when we were downtown. I decided to take a few circuitous routes to see what would happen, and unfortunately they have continued to follow us.’ They had spent most of the day doing business downtown at the Scotia Centre, Bank of Nova Scotia’s head office at the corner of Port Royal and Duke Streets. They were now driving north along Hope Road, its four lanes busy with early evening rush-hour traffic in both directions. The traffic had not yet reached its peak, so Kenneth was able to monitor the progress of the tailing black Toyota Cressida without too much effort, which also meant that they could follow him without too much effort. Kenneth slowed down and changed lanes into the slower moving left lane. He noticed that the black Toyota also slowed down, and slipped in behind a white pickup van about three cars behind them.
Kenneth peered into the driver’s side wing mirror, waiting for the right moment. Out of the corner of the wing mirror he saw a trail of thick smoke.
This could be my opportunity!
He glanced over his right shoulder to see a forty-seater Isuzu bus overtaking the two lanes of northbound traffic. The bus was so full that no light could pass through it, and it leaned to the left from the weight of the people standing on the entrance step of the bus. The bus swerved violently back into the northbound right lane a few yards behind Kenneth, narrowly missing another bus going in the opposite direction. Drivers vigorously blew their horns in protest.
‘Hold on,’ Kenneth said, glancing over at Jenny to make sure she had on her seatbelt. Jenny put down the crossword puzzle book and held on to the armrests of the seat. Kenneth gunned the BMW and swung into the right lane in front of the bus. The tyres of the bus screamed in protest as the driver hit the brakes. Kenneth braced himself in anticipation of the impact, but the acceleration of the BMW and deceleration of the bus worked in concert, like the feint and parry of duelling swordsmen. Kenneth checked his rearview mirror and saw the Toyota Cressida try to change lanes, but it was blocked by the bus and the traffic the bus had just overtaken.
This is my chance! Think!
Jenny leaned forward and pointed to Kenneth’s right. He looked over at her.
‘Got it!’
Just ahead of them, the traffic lights at the intersection with Ardenne Road were just changing to red for the traffic entering Hope Road. The oncoming southbound traffic was beginning to roll into the intersection in anticipation of their green light. Kenneth pressed his horn continuously, turned on his hazard lights and pulled into the lane of the oncoming traffic. Horns were blaring. People were swearing. Bystanders were staring and pointing in bewilderment and shock. Kenneth maneuvered the BMW onto Ardenne Road as the traffic light turned green, releasing the southbound Hope Road traffic. Kenneth raced along Ardenne Road into Trafalgar Park. Jenny spun around and peered through the rear window.
‘The intersection is completely blocked by the southbound traffic! Nothing from the northbound lanes can get into Ardenne Road!’ Jenny shouted.
Kenneth raced through the Trafalgar Park community, covering the three-quarter-mile distance to Trafalgar Road, the other major road that bordered Trafalgar Park, in just over a minute. The BMW entered Trafalgar Road in a power slide, narrowly missing a Honda Civic being driven by an old woman with a full head of grey hair, and wire-rimmed glasses perched on her long nose. Her mouth and eyes opened wider and wider as the cars came closer together, and she threw her hands up in the air as they narrowly missed each other. Kenneth would have waved an apology, but he was too busy trying to recover the car from the slide. He then accelerated through the Knutsford Boulevard and Trafalgar Road intersection, just before the traffic lights turned red. Kenneth checked his mirrors.
‘Do you see them?’ Kenneth asked.
‘No. I think you lost them.’
‘I’m not taking any chances. Is there any reason why you need to return to the house?’
Jenny thought for a moment. ‘No, I don’t think so.’
‘Call Sean and ask him to pick up the kids from karate and meet us at the airport. We’re not sticking around to find out what those people want.’