The Maine Massacre

16

The Commissaris,theSheriff, and the Sergeant thanked Beth and said they didn't want any more coffee. They had drunk three mugs each, they had eaten her homemade ice cream, and the ice cream was still settling on her stew and the many fresh rolls served with it.

"Just let us sit here and enjoy your stove's heat and tell me how much money you want of me. You're a good cook, Beth."

The commissaris and the sergeant agreed. Beth smiled. She began to clear the table, and the three men waited and smoked.

"So that was all," the sheriff said when Beth was clattering her pots and pans again. "You've told a few stories and I've told some of mine. The fox and Albert are free. Everybody is free except old Bill. The state cops took him, but they promised to treat him good. Leroux is out on bail and Astrinsky is home. All I have in jail now is the old man who doesn't want to go home because he's still out of firewood. I might get him some, but then I won't have anyone to do chores."

"No prisoners," the commissaris said. "But there seems no shortage of suspects."

"Sure. We now know that Mary Brewer was murdered. We also know that Carl Davidson was murdered. When you were away I spoke to that old Indian I told you about who sometimes accompanied Carl when he was wandering in the woods. He says that Carl froze to death because he didn't have any matches. He also says that Carl always carried matches. Carl was a careful man who wouldn't forget a necessity. He doesn't think that Carl got lost, but if he had got lost he would have found a tree and set it alight. The Indian taught him that trick. Indians don't bother to cut wood when they have to make camp in a hurry. They find a dead hollow tree and make it burn. A good-sized tree burns all night. They sleep fifteen feet away, and they don't sleep too deeply since the tree may fall over. The tree makes a strange sound when it bums. The air roars up and the tree becomes a flute. Whoooo, whooo, the Indian said. But Carl was found frozen in the snow. The Indian says somebody was out in the woods with Carl that day. Our suspect stole Carl's matches and ran away."

"If the Indian knew the victim so well he may have a suspicion. Did he mention a suspect?"

The sheriff shook his head. "Indians don't name names, sir, and the locals don't either. Everybody for himself. They'll help up to a point. It's quite something that the Indian says he thinks Carl Davidson was killed. I tried to press a little further, but he just smiled and drank his beer. White man's business, not his. He went back to the reserve. He wouldn't sign a statement. He says he can't write."

"Can he write?"

"Sure he can write."

"Good," the commissaris said. "But we are getting the same sort of information. Everything tells us that we are dealing with crime, but nothing so far points to any specific person."

The sheriff began to fill in a check. He looked up. "But I don't want to stop now, sir. The case is moving."

"It is, sheriff. Can I make some suggestions?"

"Please."

"1 would like you to authorize me to pay another visit to Jeremy's Island. There's something there. The sergeant and I saw three dogs, but when Madelin flew us around the island she said that Jeremy has four dogs and that he takes one dog ashore with him if he goes shopping."

"That's right. Osiris, a big black Doberman. It stays close to Jeremy."

"Osiris is the missing dog. And you remember that Janet Wash told me a lie about the accident with her wagon and that my sister saw Jeremy helping her out of the overturned car? Maybe it all means nothing, but another visit to Jeremy would do no harm. He has not been helpful, apart from mentioning Mary Brewer's boat. I can tell him that his suspicion was proved by your investigation of the boat, and I can ask him about the accident and the missing dog."

"Sure, go ahead. Do you want to take the sergeant?"

"Yes."

"Fine. Anything else you would like to do, sir?"

"Yes, I would like to see the fox."

"Right. I have something in mind too. Leroux is free on bail, but the charge against him is assaulting an officer. I can still withdraw the charge. If I don't he'll be fined a lot of money, and he has no money. He has a wife and two kids. Leroux has lived here all his life. He has worked with the fox. They've been out logging together. He has also worked on the Cape Orca estate. Reggie employs him as a gardener in the summer. The BMF gang members have also worked on the estate. You can't see it now, but that estate is very beautiful. Reggie has planted an azalea garden, there are big lawns sloping down to the sea on the north side, there is a little forest of white pines that he keeps clean, there's a wildflower reserve with little bridges and ponds. He can't take care of all that by himself so he gets help, and Leroux is usually in charge of the help. Leroux has worked for Jeremy too, when the hermit's cabin was shifted to the other side of the island. And Astrinsky has employed Leroux. Leroux is a handyman, but right now he is out of work. It so happens that I know a man in the county who has bought a lot of used chain saws and other machines, lawnmowers, little tractors, and so forth, that he is repairing and rebuilding for resale. He asked me if I knew of somebody who could help him. Leroux knows that type of work, and I can bring the two together and get Leroux a job for the rest of the winter. But I'll do nothing if he doesn't give me information. I want to know everything he knows about all our suspects, no matter how trivial or far-fetched."

"Good," the commissaris said and suppressed a yawn. 'Tomorrow?"

"Tomorrow, sir. How are you planning to get to the island? The channel froze yesterday. A boat can't get through now, and you can't walk over either because die current is breaking up the ice again."

"A plane," the commissaris said and smiled. "I am getting used to flying in small planes. You think you can persuade Madelin to take us out again tomorrow, sergeant?"

"There'll be snow on Jeremy's airstrip too, sir, I think. I'll ask Madelin and let you know."

"The Astrinsky plane can be fitted with skis."

The sheriff gave his check to Beth. "That was a very good meal indeed, Beth."

The woman smiled.

"What do you think, Beth," the sheriff asked suddenly. "You're lived here all your life. Do you think we're doing the right thing? What about all these dead people on Cape Orca. Should we just let them be dead?"

Beth's smile faded slowly. "I don't know, sheriff. I've been wondering. I've been a free woman all my life. I don't hold with uniforms and stiff hats and those big cars you and the deputies scream around in. But I don't hold with the black cloud over Cape Orca either. It's been there long enough now. Maybe it should be pushed away."

"What do you know about the cloud, Beth?"

The woman was walking back to her wood range. She opened its lid and threw in a log.

"What do you know, Beth?"

She turned around. "There'll be more snow tonight, sheriff. I wish it was rain. Rain is easier to shovel man snow."