Читать книгу Shroud of Roses - Gloria Ferris - Страница 6

Neil and Thea arrived at the station to find Bernie tapping slowly on a keyboard, still wearing his coat. He looked up as the door opened and said, “Got my notes in the computer, Chief. Anything else?”

“Yes, get yourself a coffee and come into my office.”

Neil shed his outer garments and sat down at his desk with his notebook in front of him. When Bernie arrived with his coffee — and his coat — Neil gestured at the other chair and asked, “How long have you been on the force here, Bernie?”

Bernie looked at the ceiling, then the floor. Finally, he said, “Twenty-one years?” He sipped his coffee and appeared to reconsider his answer. Then he nodded. “Yep, twenty-one years this coming May.”

“Okay, you said the old high school was abandoned about fifteen years ago. What else can you tell me about the closing?”

Bernie lifted his coffee to his lips, thought better of taking a drink, reached inside his coat to scratch something, and opened his mouth. “Well, I could be wrong, but seems to me the kids who graduated in June of 2000 came back in October — Thanksgiving weekend — for their official graduation ceremony and a dance in the old gym before it was closed up. Guess the school board didn’t want any partying in the new school. It had already opened that September. September of 2000.”

Neil didn’t care about the new school. “So, October 2000. Party in the old building. Okay, Bernie, thanks. Just print me off a copy of your report before you go, will you?”

“Sure. No problem.” Bernie left the room with more spring in his step than when he came in.

A red light blinked from Neil’s phone. A text from Cornwall:

BN RBBD. ND BG BLND CP. HRY

What? She swore she used official texting acronyms but he wasn’t good with missing vowels.

Thea came in and saw him frowning over the message. “Problem, Chief?”

“Here, can you make out what Cornwall is saying?”

He should have known better.

Thea squinted at the message. “ ‘Been robbed. Need big blind cop. Hurry.’ Or maybe that’s ‘Need big blond cop.’ ” She glanced at his hair. “In which case, that would be you, Chief. Sounds like you should step on it.”

He snatched the phone back and willed his ears not to redden.

“Aren’t you going to reply, Chief?”

“No. Do you have something for me?”

“Lavinia is arranging for the night shift to cover the crime scene. Dwayne is at the site now, helping the guys tape it off. Cutler and Davidson came back, asking when they can get in to finish their salvage operation. They only have until next Friday before the demolition crew arrives.”

“They mentioned that.” Neil thought for a moment. “They’ll have to hold off for one more day at least. If that means the demolition is postponed, as well, then tough shit. Pull up a chair, Thea. Write this down.”

He waited until Thea was settled. “Check missing person reports for the past sixteen years. Young female, that’s all we know. Ask Public Works to search their records for work orders on the building going right back to the school closure. I want to know when the building was last accessed.”

“Anything else?” Thea asked.

“That’s all for you. Get Dwayne to help when he gets back. Tomorrow, I’ll talk to Cutler and Davidson again. I want to ask if there were any indications that the building was breached before they broke through the front doors. Davidson was pretty shook up today. Maybe he’ll remember more tomorrow.”

“Those two live in Dogtown,” Thea said from the door. “Are you going to take someone with you?”

“You think I might disappear and never be heard from again if I go there without backup?”

“Not the way you mean. Dogtown residents haven’t committed any serious crimes as far as I know. But word has it the clan is always looking for new breeding stock.” Thea looked Neil up and down. A brief smile flitted across her lips and disappeared so fast he wasn’t sure he had really seen it. “Just kidding, Chief. Have a good evening.”

Bernie tapped on the door frame. When Neil motioned him in, Bernie dropped his report on the desk and stood silently.

“Yes, Bernie?”

“I just thought of something. You might want to talk to Earl Archman. He’s the high school principal now and taught math at the old building. He’ll have a better handle on the dates you’re interested in. Maybe.”

Neil wrote the name down. “I’ll talk to him, thanks, Bernie. Good night.”

The red light on his cell flashed. Cornwall again:

BNG WRNT

He didn’t dare ask Thea what the shorthand meant. He stepped out of the warm building that housed the municipal offices as well as the police service. The snow had tapered off, but the wind off Lake Huron cut right through him. He fastened the ear flaps on his fur-lined hat. Only four o’clock and it was almost dark.

If there was any place more desolate than Bruce County in the winter, he hadn’t found it. No wonder most of the retired townspeople stampeded to Florida right after Christmas and didn’t return until April. The rest kept a few cases of beer in the fridge, gassed up their snow blower and snowmobile, and waited it out. Some days, he asked himself why he didn’t go back to Toronto where he wouldn’t have to fight his way through mountains of snowdrifts for four months of the year.

Before taking the chief of police position in Lockport three years earlier, he had worked the Drug Squad in Toronto, where he regularly witnessed grisly death and general mayhem. Here, he investigated stolen lawn ornaments, grow ops, highway carnage — and a few murders.

Neil decided to stop at the Chin Chin Restaurant to buy dinner before driving to Cornwall’s house on Morningside Drive. It was a safe bet she wasn’t cooking. While waiting for his order, he tried once more to decipher her cryptic second text message. This time his brain filled in the missing vowels. Warrant. She wanted him to bring a warrant?

He felt a sudden stirring in his groin. When the food was ready, he pushed money into the owner’s hands and hurried to the Cherokee.