Indiana Pulcinella

WEDNESDAY, JANUARY 22
chapter 3

“Anything new?” Lane stepped into the office.

Nigel’s face glowed blue against the reflected light of the computer screen.

Lane took off his winter jacket, tucking his black gloves into the sleeves before hanging it up. As he turned he saw Nigel frown, then lean back, reaching forward with his hands, tilting upright, tucking his head forward, and locking his fingers behind his head.

The knuckles are red. He’s been boxing again. Lane stood across from his partner and waited.

“The Randalls’ son and daughter are coming in tomorrow morning for an interview.” Nigel looked at the ceiling.

“What’s up?” Lane stepped closer to Nigel’s desk.

Nigel made eye contact. Lane almost recoiled at the intensity of Nigel’s rage.

“I’ve been doing some research.” Nigel looked to the right. Lane waited.

“There’s a series of similar events.” Nigel made eye contact again.

Lane stood still. This case is becoming a nightmare.

Nigel looked at the door. Lane turned and closed it.

“Netsky fucked up.” Nigel said it so matter-of-factly, and with such vehemence, it landed like a punch.

Lane sat in his chair, turning to face Nigel. “Explain.”

Nigel pointed at his computer screen. “I’ve done a cursory search on two databases. Approximately six months after the initial murder, there was a similar event in Toronto. Then six months after that, one in New York. And another in Playa del Carmen.”

“Where was the last one?”

Nigel frowned. “Mexican Riviera. Lots of Canadians holiday there in the winter.”

“So there have been four similar murders since Byron Thomas was convicted?”

Nigel nodded. “So far.”

Lane stared at the door. I remember the one in Mexico. It became a big story here. They arrested a local who killed himself in prison. “Any of them solved?”

“Just the one in Mexico.” Nigel rolled his eyes.

“Sensitive about tourism dollars?”

“Maybe. It’s hard for people up here to understand how it works down there.”

Lane waited and, when Nigel said no more, asked, “How does it work down there?”

Nigel looked into the distance within the room. “Part of it is about the belief fresas can afford it, so it’s okay to rip them off.”

“Fresas?”

“Strawberries. Wealthy, snobby, elitist, entitled tourists.”

“And?”

“Part of it is survival. Lots of jobs depend on a safe place for fresas to spend their money and support the local economy. Families go hungry if the tourists stop coming.”

“And investors lose money.”

Nigel nodded. “The same as here. People in power want to protect their money. There, the corruption is systemic, especially in the way many of the police operate. It creates an environment where justice is quick on the draw but often off the mark.”

“So it looks like maybe they found a patsy.”

“Just like we did.”

“Exactly.” And because we didn’t get it right the first time, more people are dead.

Nigel pointed at his computer screen. “There’s another interesting bit of information.”

“Okay.”

“Each of the dead couples has a residence in Calgary.”

“Any more connections?” Lane asked.

“That’s it so far except, of course, for the fact that all of the victims were well off.”

“You keep gathering up the details until we hear from Fibre.” He got up, walked to the door, opened it, and poked his head out.

Lori sat at her desk. She turned to face him with a nail file in her right hand.

“Do you still have a contact at WestJet?” he asked.

Lori nodded, continuing to run the file over her nails. “No time to say good morning?”

Lane smiled.

“I’ll call Angela. You gonna get the paperwork rolling?” Lori finished her nails and set the file down.

“Nigel will get the dates to you, and I will get the paperwork for Angela.”

Lori picked up the phone with her right hand, dismissing him with her left. “Go on. I can do this without some big strong detective looking over my shoulder.”

Lane went back inside his office, noting Nigel’s smile, and got down to work.

I’m standing in front of the scene of Calgary’s latest homicide, discovered on Monday morning. Robert and Elizabeth Randall have now been identified as the couple found murdered in their home.

The Calgary Police Service has released no other details about the victims except to say the investigation is ongoing.

Robert Randall and his wife Elizabeth were well respected in the Calgary arts community. The couple shied away from the limelight but were strong supporters of various charities and initiatives in Calgary.

CUT TO JANE MANN, CALGARY ARTS COUNCIL “The Randalls were such lovely people. [pause] They gave generously to so many causes. Their loss is a tragedy, and they will be deeply missed.”

The surviving members of the Randall family have asked for privacy as they make funeral arrangements.

This is the fifth murder of a prominent Calgarian couple in the last three years.

Shazia Wajdan, CBC News, Calgary.

“He latched on right away this morning.” Christine sat in a chair next to Indiana’s crib. The IV stand supported a blue machine dispensing antibiotics. The medicine came from a clear plastic bag, snaking through a tube and ending in the needle entering the vein in the baby’s forehead. She adjusted the blanket draped over her shoulder, covering her breast and Indy’s face.

Lane looked at Indiana’s feet, noticing the boy had his ankles crossed. He reached out, touching the arch of Indiana’s foot with his index finger. He heard the sounds of a satisfied baby sucking at his mother’s breast and Indiana breathing through his nose.

“How is Lori?” Christine asked.

“She chased me out of the office to come and see you.”

Christine smiled, lifting the blanket to watch her son. Lane saw the transformation from young woman to mother in the way her eyes softened. Christine looked at her uncle. He saw the protective instinct sharpen her focus when she looked over his shoulder.

Lane heard a pair of notice-me heels.

“Lola’s back.” Christine held Indiana closer.

Lane stood and turned.

“Oh, hello.” Lola took off her cashmere coat, setting it over the head of Indiana’s crib.

“Don’t hang it there. I’m worried about infection,” Christine said.

There was a sharp intake of breath. Lola’s face reddened as she lifted the coat and held it draped over her arms. “How’s he doing?”

“Better,” Christine said.

“Can I hold him?”

“He’s hungry, and my uncle was here first.” Christine adjusted something under the blanket.

Lola looked at Lane, opened her mouth to protest, thought better of it, and closed her lips.

Wow, didn’t think I’d ever see that.

Christine sat up straighter, her eyes growing hard as she looked past her uncle.

Lane turned to see a woman wearing a long grey nylon winter coat. Her yellow dress reached the tops of her black winter boots. Her coat was open, and the ruffles of her dress covered her neck. Her hair was long and greying, snaking around her shoulder in a braided rope, falling over one breast, and reaching below her navel. Beside her stood a girl of maybe fourteen whose brown, wiry hair sprang out in an unruly fro. Her eyes were brown and bright, but the rest of her face was a mask. She wore a dress of the same material and style as the other woman. Her eyes lifted from the floor to study Christine.

“Hello, Sarah.” Christine said.

Indiana sighed.

They watched as Christine adjusted her left breast under the cover of the blanket, then tucked the blanket around the baby so they could see his sleeping face and thick black hair.

The woman with the braided hair took a step closer.

Lane saw fear in Christine’s eyes and moved to position himself between the women and his niece. He looked around at the babies who occupied nearby cribs.

“You don’t even recognize your own sister, Pauline?” The woman with the braid took another step closer.

The contempt in the woman’s voice slapped Lane out of his daze. “What do you want, Alison?”

“My grandson, of course. I’m here to meet him and hold him.”

Lola moved to stand shoulder to shoulder with Lane. He sensed Christine standing up. He could hear her palm tapping Indiana on the back. Indy burped. A machine whirred.

“Move out of my way,” Alison continued. “I need to see my grandson.”

Christine said, “A pickup truck will be downstairs with Milton or one of his bishops at the wheel waiting for my mother and the baby.”

Lane saw a nurse approaching. If anything starts in here, there’s a very good chance one of these babies will be hurt. He leaned his head to the left, making eye contact with the nurse. “Call security, please.”

The nurse went to a phone on the wall, lifting it from its cradle.

Alison looked over her shoulder. Sarah looked at the floor.

Alison turned back to face them. “God told me to raise this child.”

Lane shook his head.

Lola said, “Well, then, you can just tell God this child belongs with his mother.”

Alison took a sharp, short breath. “Who are you?” Alison tried to look around the pair standing between her and her objective.

“Indiana’s other grandmother.” Lola stood with feet apart.

“Then you understand it’s best for the child to be away from Pauline.” She pointed at Lane.

Lola kept her voice low, but Lane heard the threat. “I like to make up my own mind about things, and I’ve learned Christine is the same way.”

Lane saw a man enter the NICU. He was over six foot six. He wore a blue winter jacket, a green baseball cap, a frown, and the smell of the country.

Lane looked at the nurse who stood by the phone. He turned to Christine. “You holding Indy close?”

Christine said, “Damn right.”

Lane turned to Alison. “This is called child abduction.” He spotted the nurse hanging up the phone.

“God knows what kind of man you are, Pauline!” Alison’s eyes were wide. Sarah took a step back, looking at the exit sign.

The speaker in the hallway announced, “Code amber in NICU! Code amber in NICU!”

The man in the green baseball cap looked at Alison.

Lane looked past them, noting the room was filling with nurses. A woman in a black uniform sidled to the front of the crowd. She was about five and a half feet tall and appeared to be about three feet wide. Her black hair was tied back, and she wore Kevlar gloves. The white reflective labels on either side of her Kevlar vest read Security and Scott.

Dan arrived with four cups of coffee. His eyes opened wide. He positioned himself where he could see Christine and the baby. Then his eyes locked on the back of the big man with the green hat.

The man in the green hat turned to Scott. “We’re leaving with the child.”

Scott leaned sideways, looking at Christine. “You the mother?”

Dan set down the coffees on a tray, moving closer to the man with the green hat. Christine nodded.

Scott pointed at the man in the green hat. “Is he supposed to be here?”

Christine shook her head.

Scott took a step closer to the man in the green hat. “Come with me, sir.”

“He will not,” Alison said.

Scott looked at Christine, who said, “They want to take my baby.” Scott grabbed Alison by the elbow. Alison shook the guard off.

The man in the green hat reached for Scott. She took him by the wrist, snapping it back against his forearm. He yelped, falling to his knees.

Alison took a swing at Scott, who ducked the blow. A pair of nurses grabbed Alison by the elbows, dragging her out of NICU. The heels of Alison’s winter boots squealed across the floor. “That is my grandson! God wants him to be with me! God told me!”

A baby in a nearby crib began to scream. A nurse rushed to attend to the infant.

Lane looked over his shoulder at Christine, who was staring down at Indy and wiping her tears with the blanket. She began to sob. Dan moved closer, putting his arm around her shoulders.

Lola turned to Lane. “Is your family always this entertaining?”

“Your sister is fucking crazy.” Matt looked at Lane from where he sat in front of the TV with the sound muted. An NFL game was on.

“And now she’s in jail?” Alex asked.

“Four people were arrested, including the one waiting outside in the truck.” Lane looked at the screen, watching the players line up on either side of the football.

“What about Sarah?” Arthur rubbed Sam behind the ear. The dog smiled.

“She was released after my brother Joseph came down and took her to his place. She explained the plan was to take Indiana to a fundamentalist compound in the Utah desert.” The centre moved, the quarterback stepping back ready to pass. “I got a chance to talk with her. She seems very nice. Very quiet, but she did ask a couple of questions about Christine.”

The quarterback was blind-sided by a linebacker. Both players pounded the turf.

Matt said, “That’s gotta hurt. What kinds of questions?”

“Yes,” Arthur asked, “what kinds of questions?”

“Like where Christine went to school, if she was still going to school with the baby, what Dan was like, and how long she’s been living with us.”

Arthur pushed Sam to the side. “Not our address and phone number so they can come after Indiana again when they get out of jail?”

Lane shook his head. “Most of the questions were about school.”

Arthur leaned forward. “After what happened to Matt and Jessica, this has me worried all over again.”

Matt shook his head. “We’ve handled this kind of thing before, and we’ll handle it again. We need to talk with Dan and work out the details, that’s all.” He got up, taking a deep breath.

He’s having a flashback of when he and Jessica were taken.

“Details?” Alex asked.

“A plan. Dr. Alexandre told me to always have a plan to cope with the PTSD.” Matt tapped the side of his head with a finger. “I’m working on the details.”

Arthur glanced at Lane. “Let’s hear what you’ve got so far.”

Matt watched the TV. A player the size of a major appliance was helping the quarterback to his feet. “First we need to agree there will always be two of us with Indiana at all times. Then we need to have communications.” He turned to Lane. “Do we still have those fancy phones?”

“I can get them.” Lane nodded.

Matt pointed at Arthur. “Can you program them again?”

Arthur said, “Sure.”

Matt turned to Lane. “Then we need a backup. Does Harper know what happened with your sister and Milton, and their plan to take Indy to Utah?”

Lane stood. “I’ll call him to make sure he’s aware so he can handle details from his end. He needs to know Daniel, Christine, and Indiana have been transferred to a secure room at the Children’s Hospital.” Here we go again. “This time we’ll stay a step or two ahead of the game.”