Heart of Ice

31

When Louis got off the ferry the blast of wind hit him like a hard slap in the face. He set down his duffel and zipped up his down parka. The coat had been a Christmas gift from Joe, and he was damn glad to have it now. He spotted the Mackinac Island police SUV sitting on Main Street, its exhaust pluming in the icy air.

He was surprised to see Rafsky behind the wheel as he got in, tossing his duffel in the back.

“Where’s the chief?” he asked.

“He’s home,” Rafsky said. “He’s not a hundred percent yet. His ex-wife is still here taking care of him.”

Rafsky put the SUV in gear, and they started away from the docks. Main Street was snowed over and crisscrossed with snowmobile tracks. The lamplights blinked on, a concession to the gloom of the early January afternoon. Louis had forgotten how early darkness came in winter this far north.

They were headed away from town. “Where are we going?” Louis asked.

“The airport.”

“Why?”

“To intercept Ross Chapman,” Rafsky said. “His plane lands in thirty minutes.”

“How’d you get him to come up here?”

“I told him we found Julie’s skull and made a positive ID from the dental records. I told him he had to come up here and sign the papers to claim the remains.”

“You lied,” Louis said.

“I had to. I need to question him about Julie, and if he knew he was a suspect he’d never come.”

“You can’t get him on incest. The statute of limitations has run out. You’re going for murder?”

Rafsky nodded. “Why not? We’ve got Maisey, who said he was fucking his sister for years. She gets pregnant. Abortion is illegal. By December she starts showing. He’s a nineteen-year-old prince and now all he can see is his life going down the toilet. He does the only thing he can do.”

Louis didn’t say anything because this was exactly what he had been thinking about all night. It was why he hadn’t slept.

In the orange glow of the dash lights Rafsky’s profile was etched with deep lines. It was obvious Rafsky hadn’t slept, either.

“Does Flowers know about this?” Louis asked.

Rafsky was silent for a moment. “No,” he said finally. “I haven’t told him anything. I haven’t even told him about the DNA paternity test yet.”

“Why not?”

Again it took Rafsky a second to answer. “I don’t think the chief should be around when we question Chapman.”

“It’s still his case.”

“He’s a fuckup, Kincaid,” Rafsky said. “I like the man, but he’s a fuckup. We’re going to get only one shot to question Chapman, and we’ve got to do this right.”

It started to snow. Louis watched the wipers slap the flakes away. Rafsky was right. Not so much about Flowers but about Chapman. Once he knew he was a murder suspect he would wrap himself in lawyers and public-relations hacks. And he was coming back here now only because he thought he was finally going to be able to bury Julie forever.

When they got to the airstrip Rafsky parked in the small lot facing the runway. Everything was gray and still as they watched for a speck in the sky. There was a strange tension in the car.

“What’s going on with Dancer?” Louis asked.

“His lawyer’s still trying to prove he’s nuts.”

Rafsky went silent again.

“What about Edward Chapman’s doctor in Bloomfield Hills? Did he find anything suspicious?”

“No.”

Louis suppressed a sigh. “Anything from the lab in Marquette on the lodge processing?”

“No.”

The SUV was silent again. Rafsky was staring up at the darkening sky. Louis thought about asking him to turn up the heat but just burrowed down into his parka and closed his eyes.

“He’s here,” Rafsky said.

The Learjet touched down in a spray of snow. When the airplane door opened and the steps unfolded, Rafsky pushed from the SUV. Louis was going to stay inside, but there was something about Rafsky’s quick-no, angry-walk that made Louis follow. Ross was alone, no aide, no entourage. He didn’t even have an overnight bag with him.

Louis watched Rafsky carefully. Nothing but politeness for Chapman, a smile, a handshake. After a few seconds Ross ducked his head against the wind and walked with Rafsky toward the SUV.

Louis opened the door to the front passenger seat and got in. No way was this prick riding in front.

Ross gave Louis a look as he slid into the backseat. He filled the SUV with the smell of lemon cologne.

Fresh snow speckled the windshield as they drove from the airstrip. Louis peered up at the sky. The clouds to the west, where the storms came in off Lake Michigan, rolled toward them like a swell of blue-gray smoke.

“Thanks for picking me up,” Ross said. “I was wondering if I was going to have to rent a damn horse or something.”

Rafsky said nothing as he turned the SUV back onto Garrison Road, his eyes darting between the windshield and the rearview mirror. Louis glanced in the backseat. Ross had a small black book in his hand and was checking his watch and making notes. Not one iota of curiosity about his sister’s skull or why he was being allowed to finally bury her.

“Excuse me, Detective Rafsky,” Ross said, leaning forward. “Do you know how long all of this will take?”

“Why?” Louis asked. “You got somewhere you need to be?”

“No, not tonight,” Ross said. “But I have an interview in Detroit with the Free Press at eight in the morning and a phone interview with the Washington Post at noon.”

“Freshmen senators must be busy guys,” Rafsky said.

Ross gave an awkward laugh. “It’s been hectic, yes,” he said. “My wife and I have been in Washington all week trying to find a decent place to live. We found a nice town house in Georgetown, but it’s a little small and things are a lot more expensive than in-”

Rafsky slammed on the brakes. The SUV skidded a few feet, then spun a hundred and eighty degrees, coming to a stop right in front of the iron gates of St. Anne’s cemetery.

“Jesus Christ,” Ross said, his hand gripping Louis’s headrest. “What happened?”

Rafsky sat there, both hands on the wheel, staring straight ahead.

“Do you know where you are, Mr. Chapman?” Rafsky asked.

“Who cares? Why are we stopped?”

Rafsky turned in his seat and looked back at Ross. “You’re in a place people around here call Dead Center. Right in the middle of the island, triangulated by three cemeteries.”

Ross looked to Louis, then back to Rafsky. Before he could say anything Rafsky got out of the SUV and opened the back door.

“Get out,” he said.

“What? Why?” Ross asked.

Rafsky stared at him. “Get out or I’ll pull you out by your balls.”

Ross looked at Louis and, seeing no help there, slid uneasily from the backseat. He stood, looking around while Rafsky leaned his head into the open door of the SUV.

“You might want to come, too, Kincaid.”

“What for?”

“To keep me from killing the motherfucker.”

Rafsky closed the door and gave Ross a shove toward the iron gates.

“What’s going on?” Ross asked. “Why aren’t we going to sign the papers for Julie?”

Rafsky stopped and turned to face Ross. “There are no papers and there is no skull. I lied to you.”

Ross looked to Louis and back at Rafsky. It was dark now, but in the glare of the headlights Louis could see Ross’s face clearly. He was getting scared.

“I want to go back to my plane,” Ross said. “Now.”

“No, we have some business to take care of first,” Rafsky said.

Ross looked around, at the old tombstones just visible in the snowdrifts and the thick ring of trees that surrounded them. He seemed to know how far away he was from anyone who could hear him.

When he didn’t move Rafsky gave him another shove toward the gates. Ross trudged forward, his shoes sinking into the snow, his eyes darting back over his shoulder at Rafsky.

Rafsky pulled on his black leather gloves as he talked. “This is one of the oldest cemeteries in the country,” he said. “Mr. Chapman, do you know who was the first person known to be buried here?”

Ross turned. “I don’t give a fuck who’s buried-”

Rafsky smacked him on the side of the head with an open hand. “Wrong answer, Senator.”

Ross glared at Rafsky, his hand to his temple.

“The first person buried here was a little girl,” Rafsky said. “Her name was Mary Biddle. She fell into the lake while trying to cross the ice bridge. They rescued her, but she later died from pneumonia. Do you know how old she was?”

“I don’t care how-”

Rafsky smacked Ross again, harder this time. Ross lost his balance and almost fell. He spun to Louis.

“You better stop this crazy bastard.”

Louis didn’t know how far this was going to go, but he was willing to give Rafsky some rope. “I have no authority here,” he said with a shrug.

Ross started back toward the SUV. “I don’t have to take this shit from people like-”

Rafsky punched Ross, blindsiding him. Ross tumbled to his hands and knees. Blood spotted the snow under his head.

“You’re not going anywhere,” Rafsky said. “I’m not finished telling my story.”

Ross drew to his feet slowly, wiping his mouth. The snow was falling harder now, swirling in the headlights and salting his hair and overcoat.

“Mary was eight years old,” Rafsky said, “just four years younger than your sister, Julie, was the first time you fucked her.”

Ross’s panicked breaths clouded the air. “That’s perverted,” he said. “I would never-”

Rafsky grabbed the lapels of Ross’s overcoat and slammed him against the gate.

“You’re the father of Julie’s baby and the DNA you gave proves it.”

Ross’s hands flew up to Rafsky’s wrists but he didn’t fight. And Louis knew he wouldn’t.

“No,” Ross said. “No, it’s wrong. The test is-”

Rafsky jammed his fists up under Ross’s chin, slammed his head against the bars, and kneed him in the groin. Ross grabbed his crotch and slumped down, but Rafsky jerked him back up.

“DNA doesn’t lie,” Rafsky said. “You’re a freak. A twisted, perverted freak who got off on his own little sister!”

“No! No!”

Rafsky punched him again. Ross dropped to his knees, eyes closed, gasping for air.

“Admit it or I’ll start kicking. Your choice, sicko.”

“All right!” Ross shouted, throwing out an arm. “All right. I did it! We did it. But it was consensual. Every damn time. I swear.”

“So that made it okay?” Rafsky said. “You’re a loser who went after his baby sister because he couldn’t get laid by real girls.”

“Shut up,” Ross said.

“And that last summer up here,” Rafsky said. “You raped her that year, didn’t you?”

“No! I told you-”

Rafsky leaned over him, his mouth at Ross’s ear. “You took her to that lodge-”

“Lodge? What lodge?”

“You took her there and you raped her,” Rafsky said.

“I never raped her!” Ross screamed. “I loved her!”

Rafsky grabbed Ross by the hair. “Loved her?” he shouted. “You ruined her!”

Ross shoved Rafsky’s hand away and sat back on his haunches, his lip dripping blood. Rafsky started toward Ross again, but Louis stepped forward, clamping a hand on Rafsky’s sleeve.

“Enough,” Louis said.

Rafsky’s eyes shot to Louis. With a slow draw of breath, he turned away. Louis watched him walk a tight circle. Rafsky knew he had gone too far.

Ross used the iron bars of the gate to pull himself up.

“What difference does it make now anyway?” he mumbled.

“What did you say?” Louis asked.

“I said what difference does it make?” Ross looked up at him. “The statute of limitations on incest is expired. Even I know that. And you can’t prove I raped her. Your victim is dead.”

The word victim came out of Ross’s mouth dripped in acid.

Louis leaned into him. Ross flattened himself against the gate.

“Show some fucking respect,” Louis said. “Her name was Julie.”

Louis turned away. Rafsky was standing by the SUV, rubbing his bad right arm. Louis grabbed Ross’s sleeve. “Let’s go.”

Ross shuffled forward, wiping at his bleeding lip. His steps were slow and unsteady.

“I’m going to sue that son of bitch for everything he has,” Ross said, eyeing Rafsky.

“No, you won’t,” Louis said. “You’d have to take the stand and testify. And you don’t have the guts to tell a jury the shit you told us out here.”

“I know people. I’ll have his badge in a week.”

Louis grabbed Ross’s coat and spun him to a stop. “If you tell anyone what happened here, I will make sure that paternity report is faxed to every newspaper in the state.”

Ross stared at him.

“We clear, Senator?”

Ross blew out a long breath and headed to the SUV. Louis followed, and they got back in the car.

Rafsky took a moment to light a cigarette before he started the engine.

“Take me back to my plane,” Ross said.

“We’re going to the police station,” Rafsky said.