Read So sure of death Online

Authors: Dana Stabenow

So sure of death (6 page)

Liam could have thought of other adjectives to describe the fortunes of the crew of theMarybethia,but he held his peace.

“Anyway, the bilge turned over first thing. After that, we took her in tow and brought her into Kulukak. No luck this period, anyway, he added parenthetically, leaving Liam to understand that if theMary Jhad been fortunate enough to fish her limit, they would have been well on their way to the cannery, and theMarybethiaabandoned to her fate.

“Did you go inside?

“No. I got as far as opening the door. I could see the bodies from where I stood. I didn't want anything to do with them. He shifted a wad of chaw from one cheek to the other and spat over the side. “Death at sea is bad luck.

Violent death is bad luck anywhere, Liam thought. “You see any other boats in the area?

Larry shook his head again. “Not by then; most everybody had headed back in after the closing. It's a little run thereabouts anyway, we don't usually fish it, but this time Dad had a wild hair there might be some late reds hanging off the point. Wasn't, though. He seemed more resigned to their bad luck than bitter about it.

“Go ahead, then. And good fishing.

“Thanks. Dad's smelling an early run of silvers. Price is always higher on the first run. He strode back to his boat. Darrell, who had been watching from the deck, started the engine, and Larry had just enough time to release the bow and stern lines and jump on board before the gillnetter pulled away from the slip and increased to a slow, no-wake speed.

As they pulled alongside, Larry cut power and let theMary Jdrift. “There was a skiff last night, he called. “About ten o'clock, coming out from the village, going toward the head of the bay. One person in it. Dad saw him.

“Did he recognize him?

Larry consulted with Darrell, and shook his head.

“Did he recognize the skiff?

More consultation. “Big New England dory, Dad says. Guy was standing up, rowing forward. Larry shrugged. “Dad says that's all.

“Okay, Larry, Liam said. “Thanks, he added, and meant it. Eliciting information was hard enough. Volunteers were always welcome. Always supposing the dory wasn't a figment of an alcohol-induced imagination, always a possibility with Jacobsonpère et fils.

TheMary Jheaded straight for the mouth of the harbor, a narrow channel between two arms of steeply piled rock. She made the entrance and picked up speed. Soon all he could see was the masthead.

“Mr. Campbell.

Liam started and turned to Ekwok. “I'm very sorry to have kept you waiting, sir. What was it you wanted to say?

“I know who did this, Ekwok said, with a jerk of his head toward theMarybethia.“I know who killed them.

FOUR

The white Blazer with the shield on the door was parked right in front of the post, and any hope Wy had had of just leaving a note (Liam, Dig gofer stabbed, body at X longitude, Y latitude, Wy) died aborning. She raised her chin, climbed the steps, opened the door and halted in her tracks.

There was a trooper on the phone behind the desk, but it wasn't the trooper she was expecting.

“Thank you, the trooper said. “We'll be waiting for your call. She hung up the phone and looked at Wy. “Yes?

“Who are you?

“I'm Diana Prince of the Alaska State Troopers. Who are you?

“Wyanet Chouinard. What are you doing here?

The trooper looked amused. “I work here. More to the point, what are you doing here?

“What do you mean, you work here? Wy knew a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. “Where's Liam?

Up with the eyebrow again, as if to say, Liam, is it? “Trooper Campbell is away on a case. How can I help you?

The sick feeling eased. “He still works here, then?

“Last time I looked.

“He's still assigned to Newenham?

“He is still assigned to Newenham, the trooper affirmed gravely. “Now, how may I help you, Ms. Chouinard?

“Call me Wy, Wy said automatically.

Mercifully, Trooper Prince did not as automatically respond with Why not? Instead, she said, for the third time, “How may I help you?

Her manner was so indulgent that Wy bristled. “I found a body. She was pleased when the trooper sat up straight in Liam's chair.

“You found a body?

“Yes.

“Where?

“On an archaeological dig about fifty miles south of here. Ten miles more or less west of Chinook Air Force Base.

The trooper stood up and went to the map of Bristol Bay tacked to the wall. “Show me. Wy showed her. “There's a strip there?

“Not a strip, exactly. More like a flat piece of ground just long enough for a Super Cub to roll out before it falls into the river. I own and operate the

“Nushagak Air Taxi Service, Prince said.

Wy turned from the map. “Yes. How did you know?

“Trooper Campbell may have mentioned it.

“Oh. I see. Of course. Ah. What had she been saying? “Right. I'm on a three-month contract to the state to fly the people working on the dig in and out.

“And this morning?

“And this morning I was flying the archaeologist

“One moment, please. The trooper produced a notebook and a pencil. “Go ahead.

“His name is McLynn, Desmond X. McLynn, and I was flying him to work this morning. We landed and found the body of his gofer, Don Nelson. Wy hesitated. “Uh, it didn'tit wasn'tI don't thinkoh hell. She expelled an impatient breath. “He didn't just die, she said bluntly. “He was killed.

As if a switch had been thrown, the indulgent air vanished and the trooper went on alert. Wy could almost hear the howl of the bloodhounds. She'd seen the same expression on Liam's face too many times to mistake it now.

Prince said, “What makes you say that?

Wy remembered Nelson's body and repressed a roll of nausea. “Well, the handle of the knife sticking out of his mouth was my first clue.

“I see. The trooper seemed to sniff the air. “Where is Professor McLynn now?

“At Bill's. He wouldn't stay at the site, so I dropped him off on the way into town from the airport.

“Bill's?

“Bill's Bar and Grill, Wy elaborated.

“This McLynn a drinker?

“He is today, Wy said, her mouth a grim line. “I would be, too, if I didn't have to fly.

The trooper reached for her cap. “I'll follow you there.

Bill's Bar and Grill was a squat, square building with a shallowpeaked roof of corrugated metal and green vinyl siding. Windows basked in the neon light of a dozen beer signs, and worn wooden stairs led up to double doors.

Inside, the building was divided, the bar in front and the kitchen in back. They were separated by a wall with a passthrough window through which wafted the tantalizing smell of beef burned to the proper degree of char and the occasional bellow, “Order up! A bar with a black Naugahyde elbow pad ran the length of the front room on the left, booths and a jukebox were on the right, a small stage and an even smaller dance floor in the back. A hardy indoor-outdoor carpet of indeterminate color suffered beer spills and cigarette ashes with equal indifference, and the walls were arrayed in dark wood paneling and still more neon beer signs. The rafters were exposed, sort of, because every available inch had been stapled with business cards, men's shorts and women's bras, Japanese glass fishing floats, a moose rack that looked wide enough to challenge the current record holder inBoone & Crockett,a length of baleen, the cork line off a drift net and the inevitable and innumerable square foil packets of Trojans.

It was also, on this early afternoon in late July, almost empty, but for a woman standing behind the bar polishing a glass, a man seated opposite her and another man standing next to him. The standing man was tall, dark and in uniform.

“Liam! Wy said involuntarily, and started forward.

“Sir? Trooper Prince said. “How did you get here?

The man turned his head toward them, bringing it full into the light from one of the windows. Wy halted. So did Prince.

He was tall, broad-shouldered and long-legged, with thick dark hair going a distinguished gray at the temples and blue eyes deepset in a brown face. His nose was high-bridged and arrogant, his mouth ready for an easy, sexy grin and his jaw square and obstinate, but despite these uncanny similarities he was not Liam Campbell. On closer inspection Wy realized that his uniform was not the blue of the Alaska State Troopers, either, it was the blue of the United States Air Force.

“I'm sorry, he said with crisp courtesy, “I'm afraid you've mistaken me for my son. He smiled, first at Wy, then over her shoulder at Trooper Prince, and in a heartbeat Wy understood where Liam got all his charm. “I'm Charles Campbell. He smiled again. “I don't seem to be able to find my son, in fact.

“He's out of town, Colonel, Wy said. He gave her a sharp look, wanting to know how a civilian, and a female civilian at that, knew his rank. “I . . . know your son, she said lamely. There was a comprehensive snort from the man seated at the bar. Campbell glanced down at him, and Moses Alakuyak's bright brown eyes met his with distinct challenge.

Wy shot the shaman a fierce look, and the woman behind the bar put her hand over his, in restraint or encouragement, Wy couldn't tell which, but then Bill was like that. “Liam speaks of you often, she told Campbell. That was a lie, but it was the best she could come up with on the spot. Another snort from Moses told her what he thought of that.

“I flew Trooper Campbell out to Kulukak this morning, sir, Prince said, stepping into the breach. “It is a coastal village about fifty miles southwest of here. He is working on an investigation.

Campbell looked interested. “You're a pilot.

“Yes, sir.

He smiled again. “As am I. We have something in common, then.

Prince eyed the eagles on his collar and the wings on his breast and said in a voice gone very dry, “So we do. Excuse me, sir, I'm here to talk to someone. She looked around.

Wy pointed at a booth, where McLynn sat with a glass clutched in one hand, scribbling furiously in a notebook. Prince walked to the booth. “Mr. McLynn?

“It's Professor McLynn, or Doctor, if you prefer, he said without looking up.

“I'm Diana Prince with the Alaska State Troopers, she said. “I'm flying out to your dig immediately. I'd like you to accompany me.

He closed his eyes and shuddered. “Is that really necessary?

“It would be very helpful, she said mildly.

He opened his eyes and tossed off the last of his drink. “Fine. Whatever. Let's get it over with.

He snapped his notebook closed and rose to his feet, to level an admonitory finger at Prince. “I don't want anything there disturbed, do you understand? I've been working that dig for nearly twenty years. It is an archaeological site containing one-of-a-kind artifacts chronicling the existence of a small band of people that, when presented in its proper context, will rewrite the prehistory of this area. He glared up at the trooper. “My research must not be interfered with.

Trooper Prince didn't raise her voice. “I quite understand, sir, but the area is, unfortunately, also the scene of a crime. Our investigation will intrude as little as possible into your workspace, but it must begin immediately.

Basically, Wy thought with admiration, she outpompoused him. Defeated but grumbling, McLynn followed Prince back to the bar. “I understand that your air taxi service is on contract to the troopers, Prince said to Wy.

Wy groaned inwardly, but the thought of Harold Abood, Esquire, J.D., made her reply, “Yes.

“And that you know where Kulukak is.

Wy nodded.

“In that case, I'd like to charter your services to go pick up Trooper Campbell.

Colonel Campbell looked at Wy. “You're a pilot, too?

“Place is just lousy with pilots, Bill observed from behind the bar. She was a short woman with eyes the translucent blue glacier ice goes only on a cloudy day, and silver hair swept straight back from her face to her shoulders in a thick, shining fall. Her T-shirt read “Laissez le bon temps roulezMardi Gras, not easy to read unobtrusively because of how well she filled it out. Like Moses, her expression was one of not quite malicious glee.

“Yes, sir, Wy said to Campbell, “I'm a pilot, too.

“In what capacity?

“I own and operate the Nushagak Air Taxi Service. She said it proudly, because she was proud of it.

“Really. He seemed amused, and she bristled. He saw her reaction and grinned, and again she was put forcibly in mind of his son. “Well, then, we have something in common, too.

Not hardly, she thought, remembering Liam's occasional tales of his father going head to head with Soviet Backfire bombers in the skies over the Bering Strait, back before the Berlin Wall had fallen and taken the Cold War down with it. “Marginally, she said. “I fly a Piper Super Cub. You fly an F-14.

“An F-16C, actually, he said.

“And a Cessna 180, she said.

“Pilots, Moses said to Bill. “Jesus. Even when they don't have cocks, they're comparing sizes.

Campbell said, “I take it you'll be bringing my son back from, er, Kulukak?

“Yes.

“What time you think you'll get in?

Wy looked at her watch. “I should get out of here in less than an hour. It's eleven o'clock, say I'm in the air by noon. I should make Kulukak well before one. If Liam's ready to go, we should be back here by, oh, say two-thirty to be safe. I don't know what he's got left to do on the ground.

“All right. Tell Liam I'm here, would you? Liam hates surprises. He donned his cap and smiled again, and this time she saw that his charm was more practiced than Liam's, and more conscious of effect. “I'm at the BOQ on base. I'll be expecting his call. Nice meeting you folks, he said to Bill and Moses. He nodded to Prince and left the bar.

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