The Detective Lane Casebook #1 Page 3

  “Don’t!” Ernie said.

  “It’s my house and . . . ”

  Beth saw the black flash of a rodent’s horizontal tail.

  “I’ll do what . . . ” Nanny said.

  Scout’s nails scattered over the linoleum. She was all teeth and rage.

  “Ernie!” Beth said.

  A coffee coloured squirrel glared down at them from atop the fireplace ledge.

  Scout growled.

  “Why’d you let that thing in here?” Nanny said to Ernie.

  “You opened the door!” Ernie said.

  “Don’t get smart with me!”

  “That squirrel’s been teasing Scout all summer,” Ernie stood, half inside the room and half out.

  “I don’t care! Just get that damned thing out of my house!” Nanny said.

  Beth saw her son’s mouth forming a reply. Fighting with her mother was as inevitable as the coming of winter. The old woman’s ensuing resentment thawed slightly faster than a glacier.

  “Ernie!” Beth said.

  He looked her way, his eyes black with rage.

  She motioned with her hand, “Come here, please.”

  He walked into the kitchen.

  Beth took careful aim and tossed the potato. It slapped against the brick just centimeters above the squirrel.

  The squirrel sprang.

  Scout leapt to intercept. For an instant it looked as if she might close her mouth on the tip of the squirrel’s tail.

  Scout thumped back to the floor. The rodent landed on the top of Nanny’s head then jumped through the opening.

  Nanny’s mouth formed an O of surprise.

  Scout was a tail length behind the squirrel. It leapt off the deck and onto the white table top. The dog jumped onto the table, skidded, and dived over the deck railing.

  Ernie heard the air expelled through his mother’s nostrils. Beth stepped onto the carpet to pick up the bruised potato.

  Nanny patted a rooster tail at the top of her head.

  Scout barked and the squirrel chattered.

  Nanny coughed.

  Ernie took a breath.

  BLATTT! Nanny farted, leaned forward and brought her hand to her mouth.

  Ernie smiled.

  Nanny slapped her knee.

  The sound of Ernie’s laughter mixed with his grandmother’s.

  Beth’s mouth formed a straight line. She reached for her mother’s inhaler and nitro pills. She had to be ready in case Nanny couldn’t breathe when the laughter stopped.

  CHAPTER FOUR

  Lane stuffed the tie into the pocket of his grey tweed jacket before opening the gate latch. The sun was warm on his back.

  A dog barked.

  He closed the gate, inhaling the scents of marigolds, nasturtiums and wild flowers.

  The retriever’s tail whipped back and forth swatting hapless insects out of the air.

  “Hello Riley!” Lane turned his hips left the instant before the dog could poke its snout into his crotch. Fingers dug into the fur behind the retriever’s ear. Riley left a trail of drool across the front of Lane’s grey pants.

  He walked into the shade at the back of the house.

  “The tomatoes are ready, so I figured we’d have a salad,” Arthur said, holding a bowl full of diced vegetables in his right hand.

  Arthur made eye contact with Lane and winked.

  Lane nodded in reply. The wink was their signal that Mrs. Smallway, the neighbour, was eavesdropping. He raised his voice. “Garden seems to be enjoying your attention.”

  “It’ll be ecstatic when you get a few days off, honey.” Arthur minced his way around the words.

  “We’ll have enough vegetables for Mrs. Smallway!” Lane said.

  The fence boards creaked.

  “Such a lovely woman!” Arthur said.

  “We couldn’t ask for a better neighbour!” Lane said.

  “Oh shut up!” Mrs. Smallway said.

  “We were just talking about you!” Arthur said.

  In reply, they heard leaves and branches rubbing against cloth. Then Mrs. Smallway’s screen door closed.

  Lane sat down at the table. Arthur set the salad bowl in between a pair of plates.

  Lane checked the perimeter of the yard, searching for shadows in the gaps of the fence. He reached out, gripped Arthur’s hand.

  “Tough day?” Arthur said.

  “Oh, it’s the Swatsky case. He just disappeared.” Lane threw his hands in the air as if releasing a bird, “Poof!”

  “Not a trace?” Arthur sat across from him, scooping feta cheese, yellow peppers, green onions and tomatoes onto his plate. Riley grunted resignedly, realizing he’d be ignored during this conversation.

  “Not since he left the mother-in-law’s house.”

  “Tell me more.” Arthur spread a paper napkin over his lap.

  “This afternoon I talked with the mother-in-law, Ernie’s grandmother.”

  “The boy who was assaulted?”

  “That’s the one.” Lane filled his plate with salad. “Do you want all the details?”

  “Like always.” Arthur stood, “Just wait a minute.” He hurried into the house.

  Lane looked at Riley who groaned and closed his eyes. “Don’t worry, you’ll get your walk.” The dog’s tail twitched. Lane organized the events in his mind as he stabbed at tomatoes and scooped up the rest. He smiled to himself. People on the force thought he worked alone. None knew the truth. Arthur worked out of their home and was his partner in solving crimes. Arthur’s eye for detail was the perfect match for Lane’s intuitive gifts. Arthur loved to solve mysteries as long as he didn’t have to leave the house.

  The screen door closed. Arthur set a bottle of white wine between them.

  “Trying to lubricate my memory?”

  “Stimulate it.” Arthur smiled and poured.

  “Ernie left when I arrived to take the dog for a walk.”

  “Convenient.”

  “After that, the grandmother started talking,” Lane said.

  “Tell me everything.” Arthur poured wine for both.

  “Every detail?” Lane took a sip.

  “Yes,” Arthur nodded.

  “You’re sure?” Lane couldn’t help teasing.

  “Absolutely.”

  “Pour me more wine.”

  Between bites and wine, Lane related every detail, each observation and then, “She told me so much, I think she was trying to make it appear she had nothing to hide,. . . .but. . . .”

  “She knew more?”

  “And was dying to tell.”

  “Secrets aren’t easy for her?” Arthur closed his eyes and appeared to be creating a picture of Leona in his mind.

  “No.”

  Arthur sat back holding the base of his wine glass atop his belly. “She mentioned Ernie’s Italian grandfather?”

  “Said he was a pervert. Travels around with a love doll.” Lane stretched his lean legs.

  “Silicone?”

  “Life sized,” Lane said.

  “Have you checked with whoever was working at the airport parking lot that morning?”

  “It’s almost a week since the disappearance. I want to see what happens when I show up on the same day and time.”

  “Good. Did you talk with the grandfather yet?”

  “Think I should?”

  “Only lives a block away,” Arthur said.

  “Okay,” Lane said.

  “He’s retired, right?”

  “I assume so.”

  “Wonder what the grandfather used to do?” Arthur said.

  “I should ask, right?”

  “Wouldn’t hurt.”

  “Why?”

  “Swatsky disappears—remember, he’s a mayor, a public figure. Three million dollars go missing. His wife goes missing but there’s a record of her boarding the plane. There is, however, no record of Swatsky doing the same. The guy is six foot four, weighs over 140 kilos and no one saw him.” Arthur pointed a finger at Lane.

 
“So?” Lane said.

  “Ernie, his grandmother, mother and grandfather all live close together and one of them was the last to see Swatsky.”

  “Oh, and there’s one other thing,” Lane said.

  Arthur poured the last of the wine into Lane’s glass.

  “A couple of years ago, Swatsky was close to being charged with sexual assault. The alleged victim was a 16 year old boy who decided not to lay charges but did end up with enough money to put himself though four years of college in the States.”

  “Does Ernie know this?”

  “I don’t know.” Lane studied the legs of the wine sliding down the inside of his glass.

  “Should he?”

  Lane considered the question before answering. “The kid’s really shook up about the assault. Don’t know if I want to dig too deep. I mean, his parents just split up and now there’s the attack by his Uncle. The boy’s face is bruised up, his nose is stitched and I don’t think he’s sleeping.”

  When Arthur and Lane reviewed the case one month later, they decided this was where they’d made their mistake.

  “Whether or not you talk with the boy, there’s one thing for sure.” Arthur put his empty wine glass down.

  “What’s that?”

  “Lisa and Loraine are coming over for dinner. Lisa may be able to provide some more background on Swatsky.”

  CHAPTER FIVE

  “Gonna sit right down and write that bitch a letter,” Lester drummed his hands on the steering wheel while they waited for a green light.

  “You sure you wanna mess with the old lady?” Marvin said.

  “Nobody’s afraid of some old bitch hooked up to an oxygen tank. What’s Leona gonna do to us? Wheeze?”

  “She sounded like she meant it.”

  The light turned green, diesel smoke puffed from the exhaust of the dump truck in front of them. Lester pulled ahead to turn right off of Crowchild Trail.

  “Where we goin’? The motel’s the other way,” Marvin said.

  “Gotta pick up a few things at the Drug Mart.” Lester started to whistle then sang, “Gonna sit right down and write that slut a letter.”

  “What kinda things?”

  “They got everything I need for one of my special letters.”

  “Like what?” Marvin wiped sweat on his pants.

  “Latex gloves, black marking pen, tape, envelope and a dirty magazine.” He started to whistle.

  Marv shook his head. “I don’t like it.”

  “We’ll see how brave she is after losing some sleep. She won’t be thinking too straight when I get through with her. Then she’ll tell us what we want to know.” Lester started to sing as he turned into the parking lot. “Gonna sit right down and write that bitch a letter!”

  Monday, July 31

  CHAPTER SIX

  Red alarm clock numbers stared back at Ernie: 2:37 AM became 2:38. He peeled the comforter off, sat up, pulled on a pair of socks and sweatpants.

  Scout’s dog tags rattled. The night light cast thick shadows in the hallway. He stepped over the plastic oxygen line running up the stairs into Nanny’s bedroom. The hum of the oxygen machine masked the sound of paws and feet going down the stairs.

  Ernie waved his hand in the dark till it touched the wall and found the light switch. Blinking, he spotted the remote control lying on its back among Nanny’s pill bottles. He pressed the power button, sat in the easy chair, selected mute and swiveled to face the television.

  The screen eased out of black and into colour. He skipped through the menus and found closed captioning.

  He felt Scout’s paw on his right forearm and switched the remote to his left. Her cool tongue licked the salt inside his elbow. He scratched along her shoulder.

  He tried to recognize the movie. Bullets pitted the wall behind a man ducking into a trash bin.

  Scout had her eyes on him.

  “You’re wondering why I can’t sleep.”

  Her ears swiveled to capture his words.

  “I have nightmares. And I can’t stop thinking about the things people say to me.”

  Scout nudged his thigh with her nose.

  “Nanny said, ‘If it weren’t for me, you’d be in jail.’ Now, what’s that supposed to mean?”

  Scout licked the back of his hand.

  “More mind games?” He looked for an answer from Scout. “And Nonno said, ‘He’s our only grandchild. It’s up to us to protect the boy.’ He talks to that stupid doll like she’s real. Even makes me call her grandmother.”

  Scout’s nose nudged his hand.

  He scratched the side of her face. “What the hell do they think I did wrong? Uncle Bob was the one with the knife. Some of the stuff he said I couldn’t remember until yesterday. I wish I couldn’t remember what Bob said to me. And, I can smell him. That’s the worst part.”

  He touched the scar along the bridge of his nose, “Mom says he’s long gone. All the police found was the knife.”

  Scout growled.

  “Uncle Bob may be long gone but he’s still hanging around up here,” he tapped his head.

  The V Channel weather man flashed onto the screen. He wore a green Gumby tie and yellow shirt with half moon sweat stains under the arms. To his right, the moon painted a silver swipe on the river. “Another hot one forecast for tomorrow. It looks like more of the same for the remainder of the week. The only cool place in town is along the river.”

  Ernie watched the river.

  “So, enjoy the warm weather and the rest of the movie.”

  Something floated behind the weatherman. A log moved lazily. It bobbed once and rolled over to expose an extended limb pointing at the stars. Then it slid back into the darkness.

  Ernie felt a shiver start at the base of his spine.

  Scout barked and stood up. She barked again and raced for the door. Ernie ran after her. “Stop it, you’ll wake everybody up.” Ernie flipped the outside light on and peered through the peephole. He got a glimpse of a grey car and red tail lights. He turned the dead bolt and opened the door. Leaning out, he heard the sound of a car’s engine racing away. “Back,” he said to the dog and closed the door behind them.

  “Who’s there?” Nanny said.

  “There was a car outside and Scout started barking.” Ernie stood at the bottom of the stairs.

  “What kinda car?”

  “Looked like the same one those two guys were driving. You know, Uncle Bob’s friends.”

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  “How could I not protect Ernie?” Nonno waved his right hand in the air and changed lanes without looking. There was a scream of brakes. A horn howled. He glanced in the rear view mirror. The driver behind gave a single finger salute. Nonno returned the favour. “Okay, okay,” he said to the doll and placed both hands on the wheel. They turned into the parking lot.

  “There’s a couple of nice dress stores here,” Nonno said. He eased in between a Chevy pickup and Toyota Corolla.

  He caught a glimpse of blue in the rear view mirror, followed by a screech of rubber on pavement. The blue car’s front doors swung open. A pair of men stepped out. One wore a black ball cap with a flaming red C and the other wore mirrored sunglasses. The man with the ball cap shook his fist, “Hey, old man, where’d you learn to drive?”

  Nonno glanced ahead. There was no place to go. He looked at Nonna, “Just a couple of hotheads.”

  The men were on either side of the van. “Are you deaf? You cut me off!” said the man with the ball cap. His face was against the glass on Nonno’s side.

  “Who’s the cow in there with you?” Sunglasses peered in the other side.

  Nonno felt his anger turn white hot.

  “Hey, she’s naked!” Ball Cap laughed.

  Nonno pushed the door open against Ball Cap. “Son a ma bitch!” Nonno released the seat belt and had his feet on the pavement when Ball Cap pushed back. The door pinned Nonno’s shoulder and head. Ball Cap shoved. Ernesto screamed.

  “It’s a love doll!” Sunglasse
s laughed.

  Ernesto pushed against the door. “Culo!” The pressure on his head and shoulder eased.

  “Gimme some help over here!” Ball Cap said.

  Ernesto heaved. The van rocked. Ball Cap skidded backwards. “Hurry!” Ball Cap leaned against the door. “The old bastard’s strong!”

  A horn blast froze Ball Cap. Ernesto was outside of the van. Sunglasses looked around the parking lot. Heads turned in their direction. “Forget it. He’s just a dirty old man.”

  Nonno kicked out and just missed connecting with Ball Cap’s backside. Ball Cap and Sunglasses crawled inside their car and slammed the doors. Nonno leaned his right palm against the van’s hood then snatched it away from the heat. Making a fist with his right hand, he raised an obscene salute. The car sped away. The old man eased his bruised hip up against the sun baked metal of the van. The horn continued to howl. Nonno leaned inside. “Are you okay?” The doll’s head was jammed up against the horn. Nonno pushed her upright. In the sudden quiet he said, “Sure I’m okay.” He wiped the sleeve of his shirt across his forehead. “No, I promised you a new dress today.”

  Nonno rubbed at the pain. “It’s just a little bump on the head. Don’t worry about those two, they’re long gone.” He shut his door, moved around to Nonna’s side and opened the door. Nonno pulled her arms and let the doll fall over his right shoulder. Her hair brushed against his backside. He locked his right arm behind Nonna’s knees. “No, your bum won’t get sun burnt.” He shut the door. “How else am I gonna pick out the right dress if you don’t come along?” Nonno crossed the pavement, stepped up onto the sidewalk and walked through the automatic door. “Don’t worry, everybody’ll think you’re a doll.”

  Nonno saw a five year old boy with chocolate down the front of his white T-shirt. He stuck a thumb behind a loose front tooth and lifted it like a door hinged at the top. “Hi, I’m Randy!”

  “Oh, hello,” Nonno said then whispered to the doll, “See, I said hello.”

  Nonno looked from left to right noting the pointing fingers, open mouths and smiles hidden behind palms.

  “Don’t worry, I’ll get a wheelchair.” Where the hallways in the mall intersected, a green kiosk sat with a customer service sign under the 6-49 logo. Nonno got down on one knee to ease Nonna down onto a bench. He carefully crossed one of her legs over the other and turned to the lady at the kiosk. “I need a wheelchair.”