The Darkening Archipelago (30 page)

“What do you think it is?” Nancy asked.

Grace looked at Cole. Cole nodded.

“I think my dad was skimming the till.” She looked down at her hands.

“How?”

“I don't know for sure, but I think he was paying for work around the house and on his boat with band money. Fudging expense receipts. That sort of thing.”

Nancy was silent. “It's no matter right now, unless there was some kind of double-cross or something that ended Archie up in hot water.”

“That seems pretty unlikely,” said Cole.

“Maybe,” said Nancy. “Anyway, is there anything more?”

“Just one thing,” said Cole. “I think Archie knew that someone wanted him dead. If he didn't know, then he thought that his life was at risk doing what he was doing, whatever it was. He left his will on his desk at home before he left.”

“Wow,” said Nancy.

“Wow is right,” said Cole.

They finished their meals and ordered more coffee.

“Where to from here?” asked Nancy.

“We need to think about three things,” said Cole. “Motive, method, and opportunity.”

Grace looked down at her hand on the cup of coffee. Her face was ashen.

“Would it be better if we talked about this some other time?” asked Nancy.

“No, we've got to get on with this. It's been more than two weeks since Dad disappeared, and who knows what the Mounties will come up with? We've got to get moving on this ourselves.”

“Okay,” said Cole, less enthusiastically. “We need to piece together those three elements. Motive, why was Archie killed.” He lowered his voice and spoke flatly. “Method, how? Opportunity, or did the person who did it have a chance? Was he —”

“— or she,” said Nancy.

“Or she able to get to wherever Archie was killed? Problem is, we're not entirely certain where that was.”

“And then there's the boat issue,” said Grace. “How did it get to where it was found?”

“Right,” said Cole.

“Okay, so let's make a list,” said Nancy, pulling out her notebook.

Cole shivered. “Those things give me the creeps,” said Cole.

“What?”

“Those little half-sized notebooks you reporters carry around.”

“Never stopped you from blabbing before,” said Nancy.

“Times have changed.”

“Cowboy up.”

Cole drew a breath. “First, let's think about names. I'll start with Greg White Eagle. He had a clear motive. Archie knew he was on the pad to Stoboltz. That they financed the election.”

“All we've got is an email Dad got through foi pp,” said Grace.

“Not much to go on.”

“She's right,” said Nancy. “We need banking records.”

“How do we get that?” asked Grace.

“Beats me,” said Nancy.

“Maybe we could get some folks around Lostcoast to talk.

See if Greg offered them gas money to come out and vote?”

Cole said.

“Worth looking into. I'll do that,” said Grace.

“Be careful,” said Cole. Grace shot him a look.

“I'm just saying, if anything happens to you —”

“Let's keep going,” said Nancy. “Did Greg what's-his-name have an opportunity?”

“White Eagle. That's going to be hard to figure out for anybody right now. Same as method. We don't have a body, so we don't know how he died,” said Cole. Then he saw the look on Grace's face. “Sorry. I'm sorry. We don't know how Archie died,” he said. “So there's no way to establish what the method was. And we don't know
where
he died.”

“But we know it was likely somewhere in Knight Inlet,” said Grace. “It's the only way his boat would have ended up on Protection Point, unless someone had towed him.”

Cole slapped his head, and both women looked at him. “I almost forgot about the rope.”

“What rope?” asked Nancy.

He reached inside his jacket and pulled out the two-foot length of rope he had taken from the cleat on the stern of the
Inlet
Dancer
.

“Where did you get that?” she asked. He told her.

“The RCMP is going to be pissed if they find out.”

“There was no investigation going on when I took it.”

“Tell it to the judge, punk,” Nancy said.

“Look, if they open a file I'll hand it over. But I think this is important. You said unless the
Inlet Dancer
had been towed —”

“Yeah, if Dad's boat had been up around Jeopardy Rock when he was, well, when he was killed, someone could have towed the boat.”

“What difference does it make?” asked Nancy.

“Maybe none,” said Cole. “But this was on the stern. You don't tow a boat that way, do you?”

“No, you pull it bow first. Just like you were driving it. Otherwise it doesn't tow all that well. It plows rather than cuts through the water,” said Grace.

“So maybe
Archie
gave someone
else
a tow that night?”

“Maybe. But I honestly can't say that I never saw it there before.”

Cole looked thoughtfully at his cup. He brushed an errant strand of hair from his forehead. “How do we find out where the rope came from?”

Grace thought about that for a moment. “What we're more likely to learn is if someone has had to replace a bow line in the last few weeks, and even then it's going to be a stretch.”

“Can you look into that, Grace?”

“Sure, Cole, there's really only one or two places here in Alert Bay. Then there's Port McNeill. And if the rope belonged to a boat from, say, Campbell River, well, I'm not sure we'll be able to track it down.”

“Okay, let's get back to the list,” Cole said. “So we've got Greg White Eagle. Who else?”

“What about that redneck who you beat up the other night. Dan Campbell?” asked Grace.

Nancy looked at Cole with raised eyebrows. “I thought your face was looking ruddier than usual.”

Cole smirked. “He got far worse than he gave, believe me. And he had it coming. The guy is a bigot who isn't afraid to walk into a bar in Port Lostcoast with the only other white guys in town and make racist remarks about a man whose life we had just celebrated that very day! I wish I had beat him a little harder,” said Cole, his fist clenched on the table.

“Still working on that anger issue, I see,” said Nancy, sitting back in her chair and crossing her arms over her chest.

“Yeah, well, I guess I am. I just don't sit on my hands when someone picks on my friends.” He looked at her across the linoleum tabletop.

“You two need some time alone?” asked Grace.

“No,” they both said in unison, and then smiled.

“No, let's get on with it,” said Cole. “Dan Campbell is definitely on the list. He's had it out for Archie for years. Once when Dan was guiding up Knight Inlet, and had just taken a party ashore to circle around on a grizzly feeding on salmon, Archie buzzed the outlet in the
Inlet Dancer
, scaring the hell out of the bear and ruining poor Dan's hunt. I think Dan and Archie's relationship went downhill after that. Remember that, Grace?”

“Oh yeah, I remember. Dad couldn't stop talking about that for a month. He and Darren First Moon were up Knight Inlet guiding a fishing party and came across Campbell and those rich Americans tying off along West Cedar Creek, about to head up on foot. Archie told
his
boatload of rich Americans to hold on, and they powered up and swamped Dan's boat. One of the hunters lost his rifle in the drink. Dan wanted to kill Archie after that.”

“Yeah, well, maybe he never forgot. So he's on the list.”

“Opportunity?” asked Nancy.

“He's got a boat. We can ask around if he was in or out of port on the night Archie disappeared.”

“I can do that,” said Grace.

They all nodded.

“What about someone from Stoboltz?” asked Nancy. “If Archie was onto them about something they've got brewing up at — what was the place again?”

“Jeopardy Rock,” Cole and Grace said in unison.

“Right, if Archie was onto something going on at Jeopardy Rock, well, maybe it was serious enough to warrant somebody at the company taking aim at him.”

“Man, that would have to be something pretty serious. I mean, Archie has been hard-balling Stoboltz for what, ten years now?” said Cole. “He was a gadfly in every project they've put on the table in the Broughton. And for two years he sat with them at the negotiating table, too. I think they came to respect each other during that time. You know, got to see one another as human beings and all that. I don't know —”

“My bet would be on Thurlow,” said Grace. “He gives me the creeps.”

“Well, that's good enough for me,” said Cole.

“No, really, have you ever met him?”

“Just the once,” said Cole, “but I only shook his hand.”

“He's a total cold fish. Which I guess is perfect for his line of work. He has a PhD in genetics, and another one in zoology. He's some kind of genius. But when you talk with him it's like he expresses no emotion whatsoever. It's like nobody is home.”

“Okay, he sounds pretty creepy. What say you call him up for an interview, Webber?”

Nancy smiled at Cole. “Sounds like the company had a motive, but in Canada, companies generally don't go around whacking people who disagree with them. That's Central America stuff.”

“Don't think of it as the company,” said Grace, looking out the window. The fog had started to clear, and she could see across the road to the harbour. “It's a personal thing.”

“Did Thurlow have it out for Archie?”

“I don't know. I only met him a few times. Dad didn't talk about him. But if Thurlow was head of research at Stoboltz, and we know they were doing some work at Jeopardy Rock —”

“We just don't know what,” said Cole.

“— then maybe Thurlow had reason to want Dad dead.”

“Can't hurt to call him and suss him out on this whole sordid mess,” said Nancy, jotting a note on her pad.

“I want Lance Grey on that list, too,” said Cole.

“The minister's sa?” said Grace.

“SA?” asked Nancy.

Cole looked at Nancy. “Special assistant. He's the minister of agriculture's point man on aquaculture. He's an upwardly mobile politico. He's, like, thirteen years old. Totally ruthless. And from what we've seen, he's in thick with Stoboltz. They may be greasing his palms in return for favours and trinkets from the ministry, for all we know.”

“Did he have motive?” asked Nancy.

“Same as Thurlow. His fate seems tied to theirs.”

“But what about opportunity? Was he even in the area? Can he drive a boat?”

“Call him up and ask him?”

“I have some self-respect left, Cole.”

“You gave that up when you got on a plane in Calgary, Webber.”

“Right. I forgot which crowd I was running with again.”

“Okay,” said Grace. “That about does it, right?”

Cole closed his eyes. “Greg, Dan, Lance, and Thurlow. Four. Are we sure there's nobody else? Did Archie piss anybody else off?”

“Is there anybody he didn't?”

“Bad enough to want him dead?”

Now it was Grace's turn to look thoughtful. A shadow passed over her face, and was gone.

“What is it?” asked Nancy.

“Nothing. Nope, I think we've got them all. Let's get to work, and huddle again tonight.”

“Did you want to call Darren?” asked Cole. “See if he can join us tonight. He must be wanting to get back to Parish Island pretty soon.”

Grace's face remained grey. “Yeah, I'll call him. If the RCMP want to hold onto the
Inlet Dancer
, Jacob can take us all back to Port Lostcoast when we're ready.”

“Okay,” said Cole. “I'm going to start by looking in on the Mounties. See if they got their man yet.”

— Cole walked along Alert Bay's picturesque waterfront, looking toward the mouth of the Nimpkish River across the opening to Johnstone Strait. Hands in his pockets, he walked past the ferry terminal, and, when he reached the government docks, kept on going. There was no point in stopping; he could see that the RCMP was still busy with the boat. Two police patrol vessels were moored nearby, and two Suburbans were parked at the dock. Instead of going to stand with his reticent friends, he continued walking. He didn't know where he was going until he passed the Anglican church. After another five minutes of walking, he passed the ageing cannery and could see his destination. Now called Namgis House, the deteriorating four-storey brick building was once St. Michael's Indian Residential School. Opened in 1929, the school housed upward of two hundred boys and girls taken from many of the First Nations on northern Vancouver Island and across the scattering of islands in the Broughton Archipelago.