The Delicate Storm

16

EVEN THE ICE COULDN’T KEEP THE teenagers from hanging around the Northtown Mini-mall. The Cosmic Arcade had at least a half-dozen kids standing under the awning, smoking cigarettes and jostling one another and belching and generally being obnoxious in all the ways teenagers have perfected.

You have to wonder how they can stand it, Delorme was thinking. I sure wouldn’t want to be standing out there this time of year with my navel exposed. Then again, I wouldn’t be doing that in midsummer either.

Delorme and Craig Simmons had driven here in their separate vehicles, and now he was sitting beside her on the front seat of the unmarked. Their attention was not on the games arcade. The Northtown Mini-mall also housed an electronics parts store, several empty storefronts and Fantasy XXX Video.

It was the video store that Delorme and Simmons were watching. The neon sign flashed blurry rubies on the windshield, where ice had melted. Delorme flicked on the wipers and the shop came once again into focus.

“You can’t tell anybody about this,” Simmons said. “Ever. Obviously, I’d be finished on the force.”

“Assuming it turns out to be true.”

“I’m very careful. I never do this in Sudbury or Mattawa, places where I’m known.”

“Careful? When you don’t even know who you’re … I wouldn’t exactly call that careful.”

Simmons drew a face in the mist on the passenger window. “It’s a kink, all right? It’s nothing to get sanctimonious about. A lot of people do it.”

“A lot of men, you mean.”

“All right, a lot of men.”

Delorme looked at her watch. “It’s going on eleven-thirty now. There’s no reason to think this guy’s going to show. If he exists.”

“He said he comes by three or four nights a week. He said if I wanted to meet up again, he’d probably be here.”

“Three or four nights a week. You must not give much of a damn about your health if you—”

“There he is,” Simmons said. “That’s him.”

He pointed to a middle-aged man in a tan raincoat who was locking the door of a battered Caprice. The man looked briefly around the parking lot and headed toward the video store.

“Wait here,” Delorme said. She got out of the car and came up behind the man before he reached the store.

“Excuse me, sir. I need to talk to you.” The man turned, frowning.

“Is this your glove?” Delorme held up a brown leather glove, brand new.

The man felt in his pockets, pulled out one glove. “Why, yes, I guess it is.”

He reached for the glove, but Delorme pulled out her badge. “I have a few questions for you. It’ll only take a minute.”

The man stepped back. “What’s going on? Why should I answer any questions?”

“Because you happen to be a witness in a murder case.”

“Murder? I have no idea what you’re talking about.” He stepped past Delorme, back toward his car.

“I’m sure you don’t. But you saw a young man right here in this parking lot on Saturday night. You were in his car. The Jeep Wrangler, remember?”

“You have no right to ask me anything. You can’t harass me like this,” he said, and opened his car door. “I have a very good lawyer.”

“You also have a wife, I notice from that ring on your hand. You’d probably prefer to answer questions here than at your house, no?”

The man folded his arms. He looked at the ground and shook his head. “I don’t believe this.”

Delorme came closer. “Listen. I have less than no interest in your sex life. All I need you to do is confirm a few things.”

“Great. Like I have nothing better to do.”

“Right at this moment, that’s probably true.” Delorme signalled to Simmons. He got out of the car and walked round to stand on the driver’s side. He was about twenty yards away. “Do you recognize him?”

“Yes. All right? It’s called consenting adults. Can I go now?”

“What time were you with him on Saturday night?”

“I don’t know. Around midnight.”

“We’re talking about a murder. Be more specific.”

“I first noticed him about eleven-thirty, when I went into the store. I looked around for a while. When I came out, he was still there. A little while later we, uh, spent some time together in his Jeep.”

“From when until when? I need you to be specific.”

“From about twelve-thirty, maybe till one o’clock. I went straight home after, and the clock on the mantel said one-thirty.”

“So, you left here about one. Did he leave too?”

“He was still here.”

“I’ll need to see some ID, in case we need to call you about any of this.”

“I don’t see why you need my—”

“Just show me the ID, will you?”

The man produced a driver’s licence and Delorme took down the information. She handed it back to him.

“I’d like my glove back, please.”

“No, we’ll have to hang on to that. But thanks for your co-operation.”

“As if I had any choice.”

The man got into his car and slammed the door and was out of the parking lot in ten seconds flat.

“He corroborated my statement, didn’t he?” Simmons said. “What did he say?”

“He said, ‘Once you’ve had a Mountie, you never go back.’”

“It’s just lucky he lost that glove in my car. He probably wouldn’t have admitted a thing, otherwise.”

“Corporal Simmons, listen to me. I won’t be telling anyone about this incident unless it’s absolutely necessary. Right now, I don’t see why it would be. But my advice to you is find yourself a line of work where it doesn’t matter if you’re gay.”

“That’s brilliant, Detective. I’d love being a hairdresser.”

“Think of how confusing it must have been for Dr. Cates. All this time you’re clinging to her—she didn’t know she was just cover. Although she must’ve suspected you were gay.”

“You don’t seem to get it, Detective. Winter wasn’t just cover. I really loved her. And I don’t think of myself as gay.”

Delorme watched him drive away. It was raining again; even the teenagers had decided to pack it in. Delorme let the fat, icy drops fall on her for a few moments as she tried to absorb the day’s work. But all she could really think was that no matter how long she stayed on this job, and no matter how long she lived, she would never—and she mentally italicized the word never—understand men.