Indiana Pulcinella

MONDAY, FEBRUARY 10
chapter 22

This is Shazia Wajdan outside the home of University of Calgary professor Andrew Pierce.

Dr. Andrew Stephen Pierce, age thirty-five, was shot and killed by a member of the Calgary Police Service in the neighbourhood of Cougar Ridge late Saturday night.

At a news conference Sunday afternoon, CPS announced that the Alberta Serious Incident Response Team will investigate the officer-involved shooting.

CUT TO CHIEF JIM SIMPSON, CALGARY POLICE SERVICE “The ASIRT team has interviewed the officers involved as well as witnesses at the scene. ASIRT is in the process of investigating the sequence of events leading up to this fatality.”

Chief Simpson confirms that Cori Mallory Pierce, wife of Dr. Pierce, has been arrested and is in custody.

When asked to confirm reports of hostages being involved, Chief Simpson would not comment, noting that the investigation is in its early stages.

Colleagues of Dr. Pierce expressed shock at his death.

CUT TO DR. EDGAR WHILES, DEAN OF EDUCATION “He was such a vibrant man and active in the social life of the university. It’s shocking that he should die in such a violent manner.”

A check of Dr. Pierce’s Facebook account reveals several entries in which he expresses concern over his safety.

When asked about the possibility of overturning the conviction of Byron Thomas, who was found guilty of an earlier murder, Chief Simpson said that the process is already underway.

Shazia Wajdan, CBC News, Calgary.

Lane woke to the sound of Indiana crying. He turned over in the dark, looking at the clock. Eleven o’clock. I’ve slept more than twelve hours! He rolled out of bed, stuffed his feet into sandals, and moved downstairs. At the bottom of the stairs he looked to the right, where Arthur snored as he slept on the couch under a white comforter. Dan was in the kitchen holding the baby, trying to warm a bottle under the tap.

“Let me take him,” Lane said. Dan handed over Indy, who stopped crying for a moment, opened his eyes, then began to cry again. Dan tried the formula on his wrist and handed the bottle to Lane. The crying stopped when the bottle touched Indy’s mouth.

“You slept for a long time,” Dan said.

Lane nodded, feeling Indy’s warmth, seeing a tiny hand touch the glass of the bottle. “Go back to sleep. I’ve got this.”

“You sure?” Dan put his hand on Lane’s shoulder.

Lane smiled. “Yes.” He sat down on a kitchen chair while Dan went downstairs. Lane held the bottle for the baby while studying Indy’s open eyes, thick black hair, and round face. Lane stood up, looked out the window, saw snow falling. The flakes were loonie-sized. He leaned up over the sink and close to the window. Snowflakes created a halo around the streetlamp. The roof of their car appeared to have ten centimetres of snow on top. “What do you think of all this snow?”

Indy released his bottle. There was a hissing of air. Lane set the bottle on the counter and moved Indy up onto his shoulder. The detective began to pat the baby’s back. He could smell formula, baby shampoo, urine, and the faint scent of gun oil on his hands.

Lane started to move around the kitchen and dining room as he patted Indy’s back, not quite able to escape the scent of gun oil and flashbacks of Dr. Pierce’s open-eyed stare as he lay at the feet of Donna’s sons. I wonder how they’re doing?

Indy burped. Lane looked sideways at the baby, and he burped again. “Glad you enjoyed that.” Lane sat down and continued to feed Indy until the baby fell asleep.