The Darkening Archipelago (40 page)

Should anything happen to him, at least Cole would get something as long-overdue back pay. Did he think the business at Jeopardy Rock was that serious? Who knew? But he knew that Darren First Moon had crossed over to the dark side, and that it would be a cold day in hell before he gave a Stoboltz man his boat.

He put the will back in its folder and placed it on his desk.

He slept fitfully in his chair and woke before dawn, cold and stiff.

He walked into the kitchen, brewed coffee for his thermos, packed a lunch, took his heavy rain gear from the closet, and, taking the envelope, headed out into the morning. He walked briskly through the town, dropped the envelope in the red mailbox outside the general store, and made for the docks.

He stepped onto the pier and walked toward the
Inlet Dancer
. In the last gleam of moonlight that hung like a tapestry over the harbour, Archie Ravenwing thought she looked like the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. He stopped and walked back along the dock and looked down at a small, ageing pleasure boat. A ratty canopy covered the open hatch at the back. The boat's running lights were broken. She hardly looked seaworthy, though Archie knew the boat could stand a storm. And Darren was a good mariner. The
Rising Moon
still had a few years left in her.

27

“They'll take your children away from you, you know that, don't you?” said Darvin Thurlow, his voice icy. “They won't let them stay there with your wife. She's not fit. They'll take them away and put them with a white family. You'll never see them again. They'll tell your children that you are a bad man, and they won't want to see you when you get out. If you get out.”

Darren First Moon listened. “You told me to take care of it.”

“I told you to shut Archie Ravenwing up. I didn't tell you to kill him.”

First Moon looked down at his feet. “You said —”

“Listen, Darren. You messed up. You lost your cool. You took it personally. You made a big mistake, my friend.”

“What should I do?”

“I don't know. You've got to keep your cool.”

“Cole is going there tomorrow. I'm taking him in my boat.”

“I know. I invited him.”

“Why? Why did you do that? He's going to ruin everything.”

“Darren, he's onto us. Him and that woman. The reporter. They know we're up to something out here. So, I invited him out. To show him around. He's going to come and look and see that there is no conspiracy. No evil plot. I'm not a mad scientist. In fact, I'm not even going to be here.”

“Where are you going?”

“I told him I had to go to Vancouver day after next. You know that there's going to be an announcement. It's going to be in Lostcoast.”

“They know about that.”

“I figured they would. Lance Grey can't keep a lid on things. That punk can't keep his mouth shut.”

“Are you really going to Vancouver?”

“No, Darren. While you and Cole are coming to Jeopardy Rock, I'll be paying a visit to our lady friend in Lostcoast.”

Darren looked around his kitchen. His house was dark and quiet. “Don't hurt Grace,” Darren said.

“Your affection is touching, Darren. It's not her that I'm concerned about.”

“What do you want me to do?”

“You dug your own grave, Darren. Now you're going to have to lie in it.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means that Cole Blackwater is going to have to find out that nothing sinister is happening at Jeopardy Rock.”

“But what if he does? They think that the First Nations Opportunity Fund is financing your sea lice work. They're going to put it all together.”

“Darren, you brought Cole into this by getting carried away. It's your fault he's here. You're going to have to figure out how to put an end to this.”

“This was all a big mistake,” said Darren, his voice small.

“It's not a mistake, my friend. You're doing the right thing. And never forget, Darren, that you came to us. You asked for work. It was you who was tired of living in poverty, living like a dog at your master's feet. You need year-round work, and the First Nations Opportunity Fund will provide it. We need money to conduct our research, and with the fund in place to hire good people like yourself, we can direct our resources to more fruitful pursuits.”

“I'm not going to have a job if I'm in jail.”

“Then clean up your mess.”

Darren sighed. “And what about you? When will you be leaving Jeopardy Rock?”

“Like I said, while you're tying up one loose end here, I'll be taking care of another in Lostcoast. I'll get away around ten. So don't show your face in Tribune Channel before then.”

“And what about the minister? They're saying he's coming to Port Lostcoast.”

“We can't take a chance that he connects the dots until after the announcement. My business in Lostcoast will look like an accident. You're just going to have to stay out of sight for a few days. Tell the wife you're taking Cole fishing.”

Darren blew hard through his lips, his cheeks puffing out like a blowfish. “I don't know.”

“You don't take care of this, Darren, and you'll never see your kids again. You know that.”

“I know it.”

“Then finish what you started.”

“Okay, I will.” Darren hung up the phone. He sat at the kitchen table in the dark. Dr. Thurlow's words made sense. He had to make sure Cole didn't get in the way. But kill him? It had made him sick when Archie had died. When he had killed him. Darren First Moon put his head in his hands as he thought about it. The feeling of the gaff in his hand as it pierced the soft spot above the temple. The blood. He had barely been able to hold himself together when they had found it on the
Inlet Dancer
in Alert Bay. He had vomited off the deck when no one was looking.

And now Cole. Darren First Moon was smart enough to know that Darvin Thurlow was playing him. He just couldn't think of any way out now. He couldn't think of any way to climb out of the grave he had dug for himself. Would he lose his kids? He had heard terrible stories of what white families did to First Nations children when they were taken from their parents. No doubt that with Darren gone, his children would be taken away. Betty was a good mom, he thought, but she wouldn't be able to raise the kids on her own. She liked to drink a little too much. Like his own parents. And both of her folks were gone. The community wasn't what it once was, he reasoned. The government would take his children and they would end up much the way he had. On his own, on the street, angry, violent. He didn't want that to happen.

Then Darren First Moon had an idea.

He sat in the dark for half an hour considering it.

And then the phone rang. He jumped up to get it.

“Hello?”

“Darren, it's Nancy. I'm so sorry to call so late —”

“What time is it?”

“It's midnight. Listen, Cole hasn't come home yet.”

“You think he's getting into trouble?”

“Likely. When I saw him tonight he was pretty pissed about, well, about something.”

“He's likely gone to The Strait. If he ran into Dan Campbell, that could be bad news.”

“Can you go and look in on him?”

“Sure thing.”

“Thanks, Darren.”

Darren hung up the phone. He hit the front door at a run and made for the docks. He had to stop by his boat before looking for Cole. Suddenly, keeping Cole Blackwater alive was very important to his future.

28

“Daddy, who's that?”

Cole Blackwater pushed his eyes open.

“He looks awful.”

Mouths of babes, Cole thought.

“That's a friend of Daddy's, sport. Go play outside, okay? And take your sister.”

Cole heard the laughter of two children, the slamming of a door. Felt the cool air waft over him from the draught.

“How you doing, bruiser?”

Cole opened his eyes and strained to focus on the face of Darren First Moon.

“We at your place?” Cole asked.

“Yup. Those are my rugrats.”

Cole pushed himself up and took inventory. He looked around the tiny living room. The floor was bare plywood. An assortment of ratty-looking chairs were scattered around the room. He was lying on a sagging couch covered in a moth-eaten wool blanket.

He felt for breaks. He could move his arms and legs, though his left arm hurt when he extended it. He rolled up the sleeve of his shirt and saw that it was purple from the midpoint of his forearm up to his triceps. He flexed it again. Not broken, but darn near.

“Got a mirror?” he asked.

“Bathroom.”

Cole stood, his body feeling as if he'd been stuffed in an industrial dryer set on tumble. He worked to straighten his back and felt his stomach heave. Long night. Long, dark tea time of the soul. He shuffled to the bathroom and flicked on the lights. A dim glow came from a bare, overhead bulb. The bathroom was clean but run down. The tiles on the floor were cracked. The shower curtain hung by a long stick rather than a rod. He looked at himself in the foggy mirror.

“Good fucking grief,” he said, and then wondered if Darren's kids were within earshot.

“Looking pretty handsome this morning, bud,” came Darren First Moon's voice from the other room.

His left cheek, where the scar from a previous brawl was just starting to fade, was taped shut with six strips of first-aid tape. Under the tape was a gash nearly two inches long, running from the top of his cheek down to the edge of his mouth. He pressed it gently and felt the bone beneath it ache. Lucky not to have cracked anything. Some x-rays wouldn't hurt. But his head felt okay, with the exception of the hangover, which was monumental.

He had several other bruises on his face, but they all paled in comparison to the gash on his left cheek. He pushed his hair up and saw that his forehead wore a long, jagged cut that had been patched with bandages and gauze. The head-butt, he recalled. He looked down at his hands. His knuckles were red and raw. He felt his left side. “I think I cracked some ribs,” he said aloud.

“Those guys were going to kill you,” said Darren from the other room. Cole could hear toast pop.

“Only if I didn't kill them first,” mumbled Cole.

“What was that?” Darren stuck his head into the washroom.

“I said I guess I have you to thank.”

“No thanks to me. Thank Nancy. She called me when you didn't come home right away. Guessed that you'd gone looking for trouble. I talked to a few folks in The Strait and they said they had seen Dan Campbell waiting outside the bar with his buddies. As I understand it, you took the back door. That likely saved your skin, such as it is.”

“I guess it's a good thing you showed up when you did.”

Darren shrugged. “Nothing to it.”

“You're going to have to watch your back now.”

“I don't think so. I think Dan Campbell is through here.”

“What makes you say that?”

“He went too far.”

Cole pressed on his cheek again.

“You want some toast before we go?”

“Go?”

“Jeopardy Rock. Remember?”

“Good Christ,” said Cole, and Darren laughed. Cole grinned.

“Do I have time to go back to the bluff house and change? Make sure Grace and Nancy know I'm okay?”

“Not if we're going to get there and back today,” said Darren, feeling some impatience. “We're not taking the
Inlet Dancer
. My little boat has got some guts, but not much.”

“Can I call?”

“Phone's on the table there. I put some of my warm clothes out for you.”

“Thanks.” Cole found the phone among a clutch of dirty plates and coffee cups on the dining table in the kitchen.

“Nancy, it's me,” he said when got through to the bluff house.

“Cole —!”

“I'm okay. Got jumped coming home from the bar. Dan Campbell. Listen, I think he's dangerous. Likely our man. Can you call Constable Johns and let them know?”

“I will, of course. How bad, Cole?”

“Superficial,” he said. “Nothing new. I gave worse than I got,” he bragged again.

He heard Nancy take a breath. “The RCMP are already heading this way today, remember?”

“I remember. Tell them to get a move on, would you? And you guys stay put today. Is Jacob back?”

“No, I haven't heard if he'll be around today.”

“I'm worried is all.”

“How does Dan tie in with Stoboltz? You think they asked him to take Archie out?”