So sure of death (24 page)

“I suppose you've heard about theMarybethia. Beneath lowered lid he watched her reaction.

Her lips tightened, but that was all. “Yes.

“Did you know the Malones?

“Yes.

“Any one of the Malones in particular? Molly, for example?

Her smile was frosty around the edges. “If, Liam, you want to know if Molly Malone ever spent the night here with a man not her husband, the answer is yes.

“Ah. His breath expelled on a long sigh. “Who?

“That I don't know. I never saw him.

His brow creased. “Then how do you know she was with anybody?

“I make the beds.

“Oh.

“He wasn't with her when she checked in. She must have let him in the back door because he never came through the lobby. But that girl definitely wasn't sleeping alone the nights she spent here.

“Maybe her husband joined her.

“Then how come I never saw him? She was always alone, coming and going.

“How often did she stay here?

“She came into town on shopping trips on average about once a month.

“For how long?

“One or two nights, usually. Oh, you mean how long had she been making these trips into town. Alta thought. “I guess about a year. Since before last fishing season, anyway. Last April, maybe, around tax time? She shrugged. “I can't say for sure.

Liam gave Alta his most winning smile. “Could I see the register?

She barked a laugh. “We don't have a register. She nodded at the office in back of the counter.

He followed her through the door, and beheld the latest in Dell computers, hooked up to a scanner, a printer, a copy machine and a fax. “Great, he said. “How far back do your records go?

“Since we bought the place, she said complacently, and sat down. “What do you want?

“Can you print out a list of all the dates Molly Malone stayed here?

“Certainly, Alta said with a trace of scorn, and did so forthwith. Liam scanned the piece of paper. “Thanks, Alta, I owe you one.

“I had one of the Malone deckhands in here, too, she said. “Beginning of last season, all pissed off because David Malone had fired him. What the hell was his name . . .

“Max Bayless?

She raised her eyebrows. “Why, I believe that was it. Scrawny little guy, nose off a fairy tale witch, big brown eyes like a cow's, mouth that wouldn't stop.

Alta Peterson had a gift for characterization; a vivid picture of Max Bayless materialized before Liam's very eyes. He produced his notebook. “What did he say about the Malones?

“Said David Malone booted him off theMarybethiafor no good reason, right in the middle of the season.

“He get paid?

She nodded. “Oh yes. I made him sign his crew share check over to me before I'd let him register. You can't trust a fisher at settlement. They're liable to drink every dime of their checks the first day they step off the boat, either celebrating a great season or drowning a bad one. I never had that problem with Peri, bless his heart. Anything else you wanted?

He indicated the computer. “Can you look up the exact date Bayless was here?

“I don't have to. She smiled, revealing a set of large, yellowing teeth. “He was in on July fourth, out again on the fifth.

“Easy dates to remember. Did he get another job?

“I'd say about an hour after he flew in, she said, nodding. “I was surprised, since it wasn't that good a year, and it didn't sound to me like he was that good a deckhand. David Malone hashad a good reputation on the Bay. He wouldn't fire someone in the middle of the fishing season for no good reason. It would leave him short-handed, and it would take too much time to find someone to replace him.

“Maybe his kids were coming along, Liam suggested.

“Maybe. Alta didn't sound convinced. “My kids couldn't wait to set foot on dry land, themselves. Humor gleamed in the blue eyes. “There's not a one of them majoring in fisheries management, either.

“What are they majoring in?

The gleam of humor increased to deepen the crow's feet at the corners of her eyes. “Pre-Columbian art, high-altitude botany, and Eastern religions. Respectively.

Jesus, Liam almost said, but recollected himself in time to snatch the word back. “Well, thank you for all your help, Alta. He pocketed his notebook and turned to leave.

She waited until he was halfway out the door before she said, “You want a list of the dates David Malone stayed here?

He halted in his tracks. “What?

Her smile was wicked. “He didn't sleep alone, either.

FIFTEEN

He stopped at NC for coffee and a roll, and headed to the post. Charlene Taylor was waiting for him. She didn't look happy.

Fifty years old, give or take a few, she had a round face topped by a fringe of flyaway brown bangs. Her ample waist was firmly restrained by a thick leather belt, and her epaulets and shoulder pads made her look twice as wide as the Sherman tank she already was. Her eyelashes, long, thick and curling, were disarmingly coquettish until you got past them to the unavoidable brown gaze they screened, a stare that weighed, measured, classified and stamped in one thorough glance. It reminded him a little of Alta's. It reminded him a lot of Bill's.

Liam, a man who had always loved women, was a bit afraid of all three of them. He wondered suddenly what Wy would be like at fifty, and gave an involuntary grin at the thought of what it might be like to live with her then. He'd have to check with Charlene's husband, the D.A. for this district, and see what he said.

“There's nothing funny about it, Charlene said severely, rebuking his grin.

“Nothing funny about what? Liam said, leading the way into his office.

Charlene planted herself squarely in front of his desk and folded her arms across an impressive chest. “I understand you have Frank Petla under arrest for murder.

Liam, still in the act of pulling off his cap, looked surprised. “He hasn't been charged yet, but, yes, he's in custody.

“He didn't do it.

Liam took his cap the rest of the way off and took a minute hanging it just so from the hat rack on the wall. He went behind his desk, sat down, and took the lid off the coffee. “You want half? he said, holding out the enormous cinnamon roll.

“He didn't do it, Liam.

“Fine, he said. “More for me. He took a gigantic bite and washed it down with a swallow of satisfyingly strong coffee. “You sound very sure.

“I know him. He's a drunk, but he's not a killer.

“We're all potential killers, given the right circumstances, and you know it, Charlene. He took another bite.

“You weren't, she said pointedly, and he flushed a dark red.

“No, I wasn't. The memory of the man who had killed his wife and child, kneeling in front of him in the rain, on a lonely road fifty miles from anywhere and anyone to see, flashed through his mind. He banished it, the way he always did. His appetite gone, he set the roll down.

“Aw hell, she said, disgusted. “I'm sorry, Liam. She removed her own cap and sat down heavily. “Low blow, totally unwarranted, completely out of line.

“You aren't the first person to have made that observation. A lot of people thought Rick Dyson should have been shot while resisting arrest, many of them within Liam's own command. Liam had felt the weight of their silent contempt every time he walked into headquarters.

Contempt was not manifest in Charlene's glare. “I said I was sorry.

He held up one hand, palm out. “All right. Apology accepted. What makes you so sure Petla didn't do it?

“Tell me what happened, she said instead.

He told her. She followed the story intently. “How did you catch him when he took off on the four-wheeler? There's no place to land and intercept him around there.

“I brought him back to the dig, Liam said, avoiding a direct answer. “Charlene, he assaulted a trooper.

She looked startled. “You?

“No, we got ourselves a new trooper, fresh out of the academy, Diana Prince.

“I didn't know that.

“She came in yesterday. Green as she is, I have to say it helped having her here, what with the press of business and all. It was a weak attempt at a joke and didn't earn him a smile. “You hear about theMarybethia? She nodded. “We flew out to Kulukak yesterday morning when the news came in, I sent her back with the bodies. McLynnyou know McLynn?

“I've heard of him. Her dry tone indicated that she hadn't heard anything good.

“Well, Wy Chouinard's been flying him in and out, and when they flew in yesterday morning they found Nelson's body. Don Nelson, he added parenthetically. “He was McLynn's gofer. McLynn and Wy flew back to town and got hold of Prince. Prince borrowed Wy's Cub and flew out to the dig with McLynn, while Wy picked me up in Kulukak and brought me back. He omitted reference to the brief stop en route. He was getting good at skipping that. “We switched planes and flew out to the dig. When we got there, Prince had been clubbed, McLynn had been shot and Frank Petla was hightailing it over the horizon on a four-wheeler with a thirty-ought-six and a bag of Yupik artifacts from the dig strapped to the handlebars. Which bag of artifacts included the murder weapon, I might add.

“What was the murder weapon? He told her, and she grimaced. “I knew there was a reason I chose the Fish and Game side of this department. At least people are only murdering moose. She pulled the brim of the cap through her fingers. “Okay. She raised her head. “It looks bad for Frank. Given his presence and his behavior, you didn't have any choice, I see that.

“How do you know him?

Her mouth pulled down. “He boarded with us for a year when he was a teenager. Her eyes met his, her expression troubled. “You know how it is in the villages, Liam. The elders are trying to hold things together, trying keep the kids off the booze long enough to grow up, but a lot of the time it's just too little, too late. Frank comes from one of the families for which it was too little and too late. His father ran his snow machine into a lead on the river when Frank was ten, and his mother never recovered. She's a great gal when she isn't on the sauce, but it's got her by the scruff of the neck and it's not about to let go. His sister Sarah died when she was thirteen, alcohol abuse. Frank was in trouble in the village, some underage drinking, some disturbing the peace, some small-time B&Eyeah, yeah, I know what this sounds like. Liam, he just never had a chance. The elders called in the troopers when he broke into the school one night and trashed the library, and the trooper brought him before Bill. Jerry and Iwell, we don't have any of our own, and we take in a kid now and then, a kid who otherwise will get sent to McLaughlin in Anchorage and get lost in the system. Village kids got no business being sent to McLaughlin, Liam; all that happens there is they get advanced instruction in criminal behavior.

Liam held up one hand. “You're preaching to the choir here, Charlene.

She relaxed a little. “He was real good, the time he spent with us. Stayed sober, did his homework. Even had a girlfriend, Betty Kusma, smart girl, works as a checker at NC. We took both of them to the AFN convention that October, and he signed on with the sobriety movement.

“What happened?

Her mouth set in an unhappy line. “His mother got an attorney and forced DFYS to give him back to her. She sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. “He was only fifteen. If we could have kept him for just one more year, until he was sixteen and would have had a choice whether to go or stay, he might have made it.

There was silence for a moment. “I'll dot all thei's and cross all thet's, Charlene, Liam said at last. “I won't take anything at face value. But you have to know it looks pretty bad.

“I know. She opened her eyes and stood up. “Thanks, Liam.

“Hold on a minute, would you? He rose and walked over to the wall map of the Bristol Bay area. He tapped Kulukak. “Can you tell me what part of Kulukak Bay was open for fishing on Sunday?

“Sure. She came to stand next to him. “All of it.

“For how long?

She thought. “I'd have to look it up, but I think six a.m. to six p.m.

“Hell.

“What's the problem?

“It's eight miles across, he said gloomily, “and ten or more north-south. I'm trying to track the whereabouts of forty to fifty different boats on that Bay during a twelve-hour period.

“Because all of it was open, doesn't mean all of it was fished.

He looked at her. “Which means what, exactly?

“It means that fishermen aren't stupid. They'll wet their nets where it'll do them the most good. In this case . . . Her forefinger traced a section of the coastline on the northeast corner of Kulukak Bay. “Right about here.

He inspected the bit of coastline. “Why?

“Because that's where the Kanik River, the biggest creek on the bay, empties into the Kulukak, she said. “You know? Every summer, salmon come in from the ocean to go up the creeks where they were born to spawn their own young? You must have heard something about this, surely.

His ears reddened. “Not a lot of commercial fishing in Glenallen.

“That's no excuse, she said severely. “You've been on the Bay for three months now. Anyway, that's where most of your boats will have been, outside the markers of the Kanik, trying to get in between the fish and fresh water. She pulled her cap on.

“One more thing.

“What?

“Ivory, walrus ivory.

“The tusks. Sure, what about them?

“I know only Natives can sell them. Can they sell them as is, or do they have to be carved into something first?

“The law says it has to be carved on or into something. Walk into any gift shop on Fourth Avenue in Anchorage and look around. You'll see whole heads with the tusk sporting one little carving of a mask or an animal, just to make it legal. Her eyes narrowed. “Why? Is there something you're not telling me, something going on to do with my side of the patch?