The Bone Seeker (10 page)

‘Apparently I'm supposed to be grateful that the lousy nose bot is willing to send anyone at all.' He took a sip of his drink. ‘Any day now there'll be yet another article in the
Arctic Circular
about the failure of the law enforcement agencies to tackle the rise in violent crime across the region and someone will put the blame on the native police forces. How are we supposed to investigate crime when the resources always go to
qalunaat
?'

Edie scoffed. ‘You really want me to answer that question?'

•   •   •

They said goodnight and Edie took her tea out to her tent. At the sleeping platform end she'd sewn a series of hooks into the canvas and from these she had hung sealskins which acted like curtains, shutting out most of the light and preventing the air from heating too much once the temperatures began to rise after what passed for the dawn. She lit her
qulliq
and burned enough seal oil to ward off the mosquitoes, then undressed. She was tired, but her mind whirred like a clockwork toy. For a while she lay staring up at the canvas. When she was a kid, after her father left, her mother would take her out into the night to look at the stars in the sky. She always said the lights were the spirits of the dead and it gave her comfort to be among them. They would sometimes stay for hours, taking it in turns to pick out the stars of their ancestors, before retreating into the warmth of the snowhouse where her
mother would tell her about the old times, when people became wolves and wolves became people.

Things had changed since those days. Relations between wolves and people were clearer cut now, shapeshifting no longer held the same kind of magic as it did, and somewhere along the line she realized she had stopped believing that the stars were the ancestor spirits. For an instant she was filled with a bitter regret at how the world had altered and was changing still. But she was too exhausted for any feeling to last long and gradually, as her eyelids began to grow heavy, she felt herself moving to some deep place inside herself, and in the still spaciousness of sleep she imagined her father, Peter, smiling and stroking her hair; and opening her eyes she saw a face that did not belong to her father at all. It took a moment for Chip Muloon's features to come into focus.

‘Hey,' she said.

‘Hey. You were going to come over, remember?'

The softness of his mouth was on hers, a welcome heat spreading across her groin, and she reached out and began to unbutton his shirt, her hands cradling his chest, the fingers exploring the still surprising carpet of hair. There was a rush of cool air as he opened the sleeping bag and then the soft, spicy smell of his skin as he lowered himself in beside her. Her body turned automatically, one arm reaching up around his shoulders, fingers feeling for the tuft of hair at the base of his neck, while the other reached down. There was a brief, fleeting moment, when he looked at her and the blue of his eyes reminded her of the blank summer sky, but she brushed the thought away and allowed herself to drift into pleasure.

Afterwards, when their bodies were slick with sweat, they wrapped themselves in blankets, and went down to the shoreline, splashing about in the icy water, then returning to run their fingers along their goosebumped skin until they were shivering not with the cold but with pleasure once more.

And then they lay in silence on top of the sleeping skins, their bodies touching, wilfully lost to the world. Time passed. Eventually, Chip
opened his mouth as if to speak. She raised a hand to stop him, unwilling to lose the closeness of the silence between them, but it was too late.

‘You went to Camp Nanook.' His tone was matter of fact, as though he'd started a sentence and was expecting her to finish it.

She propped herself up on an elbow and caught those blue, expressionless eyes again. ‘You know I can't talk about that,' she said.

For some reason the answer seemed to unsettle him. He removed his gaze from her and sat up a little.

‘Do you think it's this guy everyone's talking about, the Cree?'

‘I don't know,' she said. ‘And I won't be able to think at all unless I get some sleep.'

He shifted into a sitting position. ‘You know, you Inuit folks are always very eager to blame your problems on outsiders.'

She looked at him and saw that he was being perfectly serious.

‘I mean, it's pretty messed up here, Edie.'

‘It's pretty messed up everywhere,' she said.

He laughed. It wasn't a wholly kind laugh. ‘How would you know? You've never been anywhere.'

She turned to him, her eyes fierce now.

‘And you assume that you can see what northern life is like with those watery, southern eyes of yours?' She saw him start, as though stung. ‘Maybe you've never been
here
, Chip, not really.'

His face grew dark. ‘You want me to go?'

She settled back into the sleeping skins and turned away.

‘Whatever,' she said. Sleep was cresting over her like a wave. ‘I'm going to get some rest.'

Whether he left then or later, she did not know, but when she woke in the morning he wasn't there.

Edie went to the detachment to take a shower. Derek was out feeding his lemmings, which she was glad about, not wanting to expose him to her bad mood before she'd had a chance to wash it away. She was just finishing up when he came in and offered her some tea. Feeling better, she told him she'd go back to the tent to dress then return in five minutes.

She was crossing the little front yard and trying not to think about what Chip had said last night when she heard a pair of wings and a screech and from the corner of her eye she saw something dark and hectic bombing through the air towards her. Instinctively her arms rose to protect her face. There was a rush and whirr of wings, then the attack was over and the aggressor was sitting on the overhead cable eyeing her. A jaeger. This particular individual was either inexperienced or disorientated, because it had made its nest, a chaotic agglomeration of willow twigs and settlement trash, under the frost pilings in the back yard. She and Derek had been observing it over the past couple of weeks, assuming that sooner or later it would realize its mistake and leave, but the bird had remained, steadfastly brooding its eggs, and now there were four tiny, blind chicks to feed and protect. Only one or two would grow to adulthood, fed on the bodies of their weaker siblings. Nature threw away life with casual indifference, but flesh was precious. Nature never wasted flesh.

Walking back to the tent she wondered whether Chip had a point. Maybe she'd been a little too defensive. It was just that
qalunaat
seemed so often to label Inuit either as victims of the south or of each other. Inuit could be insular and suspicious of outsiders, but in that regard
weren't they just like any other group of human beings? She reached for the tent flap, wondering if she shouldn't make Chip some peace offering without conceding her point that he really had no right to judge.

To her surprise, Willa Inukpuk was waiting for her inside the tent. Her ex-stepson was in his Rangers uniform but he looked as though he hadn't slept much. After he hadn't showed on Saturday night she'd got a message that his ATV had broken down. Since then she hadn't heard from him and wasn't expecting to either.

She went towards him, hoping to get an exchange of breaths, but his body stiffened.

‘I figured you wouldn't be able to resist playing detective again,' he said pointedly. ‘Everybody's talking about it at Camp Nanook. That soldier you interviewed.'

She decided to ignore the bitter tone. ‘You know him?'

Willa shook his head. ‘But the guys at the camp don't think he had anything to do with it and they're pretty pissed to hear that the police are just
assuming
the killer's a soldier.'

‘That might be what folk in the settlement are saying, but we're not assuming anything.'

Willa sucked on his teeth as though he found this hard to believe.

‘Is that why you came to see me?' Edie unwound the towel around her head and threw it on the sleeping platform. ‘To tell me to back off the investigation because you're getting some heat?'

Willa shook his head and eye-rolled. He leaned his elbows on his thighs and put his head between his hands, so he didn't have to look at her.

‘Maybe I should just leave.'

‘I'm sorry,' she said. Their relationship had only just started to improve. She didn't want to sabotage it now. ‘Don't do that.'

Willa took a deep breath. ‘Listen, you should probably know, Lizzie Salliaq and I have been seeing one another these last few weeks.'

This was another surprise.

‘We've been keeping things under wraps,' Willa went on. ‘Be glad if you kept it that way too. You know how Charlie Salliaq is.' He inspected his fingers. ‘I just thought with what's happened . . .'

She stood looking at him for a moment, struck by the sense that he was telling her this in order to avoid telling her something else.

‘Did Lizzie mention something? Is that why you've come?' Edie began combing her hair with her fingers, remembering the odd little lecture she'd had from Gutierrez on the subject of sisterly relations. Wouldn't sisters share confidences? She suddenly felt on unfamiliar terrain.

‘Nothing about Martha, if that's what you're getting at. She didn't tell Martha about us, either. I'm just saying, if my name comes up.'

‘Why would it?'

Willa frowned. ‘It wouldn't, OK? But if it did. I'm just saying.' His legs began to bounce up and down.

‘So you don't think it was anyone at Camp Nanook?'

‘Did I say that?' He was making no effort to hide his irritation. How often it started out OK between them and ended up like this.

‘If I understood right, you seemed to be saying we should be looking closer to home.' She recalled what Klinsman had said about that. ‘What about the old man, Charlie? He's pretty possessive, isn't he?'

‘I don't know the fella. I fixed his ATV for him is all.' When he wasn't doing Ranger work, Willa took on mechanic jobs for cash. His father always said there wasn't an engine Willa couldn't fix. ‘That's how I met Lizzie.'

‘But do you think Charlie would have been capable of hurting Martha? Say, if he found out she'd been seeing someone?'

Willa narrowed his eyes, considered this a moment then shook his head. ‘Might have made her life miserable for a while, but, nah, he wouldn't have hurt her. He's ornery but underneath – from what Lizzie says about him – he's OK. Martha was his favourite. Martha was everyone's favourite.'

He stood, anxious to get going. ‘Listen, don't mention to anyone I came, not even Lizzie. I don't want to get her into trouble.'

•   •   •

Edie dressed in a hurry and walked over to the Pitoqs' house, intending to speak to Lizzie about her sister, see if she could detect some sense
that Lizzie thought Charlie might be responsible, but the whole family were sitting in the living room with Sonia Gutierrez, evidently discussing their approach to the case, and it was clear they didn't want her around.

Back at the detachment, Derek was sitting at his desk staring at his computer screen.

‘Your tea went cold,' he said without looking up.

She told him where she'd been, leaving out the part about Willa.

‘I was hoping the lawyer would make things easier for us. Now I'm not so sure.' Derek lifted his arm from the table and began rubbing his temple. ‘I don't like the way she's been prowling around this investigation.' He reached for the pack of Lucky Strikes sitting on his desk and slid out a cigarette.

‘You think she knows something we don't?' Edie volunteered.

‘About what?'

‘Camp Nanook? She gave me this whole speech about dealing with the military.'

‘I think she's used to keeping things close to her chest. Like I said, I think we should keep an eye on her.'

The conversation ended. Edie went into the kitchenette, opened the fridge and felt a tiny thud of disappointment. Three fried caribou ears which, by the look of them, had been in there some time.

Derek's face appeared around the door.

‘If you're looking for that soup, I got peckish in the night,' he said. ‘Microwaved the shit out of it. Have to get you to show me how to work that thing sometime. By the time I got it out all that was left was a little brown rock stuck to the bottom of the bowl.'

The phone rang and Derek went to answer it. Edie absent-mindedly crunched on a fried ear, thinking about how much she'd love to wash it down with a cold beer right now. It was like they said. Alcohol was the one relationship you never got over.

Back in the office, Derek was still deep in conversation. He signalled to her then, turning his attention back to whoever was on the other end
of the line, said, ‘No, we'll come to you. We got a lot of folk making their way in from their summer camps today to meet tomorrow's supply ship. I'd rather keep this contained.' He finished the call and hung up. His eyes were bright.

‘Klinsman searched Namagoose's quarters. Seems he might have found something. A woman's amulet. Namagoose claimed it was his mother's, but they got some kind of expert there who says it's Inuit.' He bit his lip and curled his mouth. ‘Dammit, though, I can't be running around after him on this. We need to be seen to be more proactive.'

Edie thought back to her conversation with Luc. Maybe the nurse was right. Murder
was
changing. And just now it looked like the Ellesmere Island Police was having a hard time keeping up.

•   •   •

Colonel Klinsman walked them along the by now familiar route towards the doorway of the administrative unit on the east side of the compound. His face wore an expression of practised sincerity and there was no sign that he felt rattled by this latest development.

‘There may be a perfectly innocent explanation for this, but I want you to be confident that we at the camp are doing everything to cooperate with your investigation. I had Namagoose's clothing bagged up. You asked him about a camera. We didn't find one, only his cell phone, as he said. The battery was down so we recharged it. I'm happy to hand it over to you, but the only pictures you'll find are of the private's family, I'm afraid.'

‘I appreciate that, colonel, but in future if I need some help I'll ask for it. We have police procedures to follow.'

Klinsman smiled graciously and in a pleasant voice said, ‘Got it, sergeant. We're bringing Private Saxby in from exercises this afternoon. As you requested, I believe? You should be able to speak to him as soon as he arrives. We can search his locker too.' He hesitated, adding carefully, ‘If you think it necessary, of course, but if it's all the same to you I'd rather do that after he gets here.'

He held open the door into the corridor. As they walked through, he said, ‘I see you've made a start on draining the lake area. If there's
anything we can help with, pumps, plant, anything like that, you'll let us know?'

‘We've got it covered,' Derek said carefully.

They were at the door to room number 3 when Klinsman stopped and turned. ‘We're as eager as you are to put this whole thing to bed with as little publicity as possible.' He said this very deliberately, as though the form of words had been chosen beforehand and rehearsed.

‘We can all agree on that, colonel.'

Klinsman nodded, and swung the door open. The room was set up as before, with the video camera in one corner. Jacob Namagoose sat behind the table, this time with his legs spread, eyes fixed on the middle distance; determined, it seemed, not to take any notice of the newcomers.

Klinsman punched in a number on the desk phone.

‘Marty? We're ready for you.' He put the phone down and explained that the camp counsel, Marty Fielding, would be joining them.

‘Procedures,' Klinsman said pointedly.

It struck Edie as a little jumpy for a camp with no military police to retain the services of a lawyer. Suggested they'd been expecting trouble with the locals from the start.

A plump, dark-haired man in uniform knocked and came in carrying a folder of papers and a ziplock bag. He seemed nervous and out of sorts, a dark half-moon of insomnia slicked beneath each eye. Edie recalled what Chip had told her, that thirty per cent of Arctic postings returned to the south with some kind of mental disorder. Looked as though Marty Fielding might be among them.

He handed over the ziplock bag to Derek, who peered at it before passing it to Edie. Inside was a small, delicate bracelet exactly matching Markoosie's drawing.

‘Our expert said you guys don't give these things away. Don't sell them either,' Fielding said.

All eyes turned to Namagoose, who sat in silence, a look of boredom on his face. The orca on his tricep twitched its tail.

‘Tell Sergeant Palliser what you told me,' Klinsman said.

Namagoose leaned back in his chair, looking as relaxed as a sunning seal.

‘I didn't do nothing,' he began.

‘How's about we talk about what you
did
do, soldier,' Derek said.

Namagoose sighed, as though what was being asked of him was unreasonable. ‘Friday night I took the shuttle into Kuujuaq to have a drink.'

‘Meet the local women?' Derek cut in.

‘That ain't illegal, is it?' Namagoose had spent an hour or so in the Anchor then taken himself off to the Shoreline Bar. ‘There was this girl standing there.'

‘Martha Salliaq,' Derek confirmed.

Namagoose didn't answer. ‘She asked me for a drink. She said the guy behind the bar would only give her a soda. She was upset so I got her a beer.'

‘She say why?' Edie asked.

Namagoose shrugged. ‘Why all women get upset. Gotten into a fight with her boyfriend. That's what she said, anyhow.'

From the corner of her eye, Edie saw Derek and Klinsman exchange glances, something between men she couldn't pick up on.

‘We had a few drinks, she said she was hungry so we went to get some hot food from that dump around the back,' Namagoose went on.

‘What time was that?'

‘Around seven forty-five, maybe eight.'

‘Were you drunk?'

Namagoose's jaw pulsed. ‘A little, maybe. There's nothing says a man and a woman can't have a drink together.'

Derek nodded. It was a fair point. ‘Did you go on anywhere else?'

Namagoose closed his eyes and groaned, a cornered man waiting for the first punch to hit. ‘Look, OK, I'm gonna tell you the truth here. The girl asked me back to her house. She was up for it, man. I didn't force her or nothing. She was all over me.'

‘So you had sex?' Derek asked.

‘You Inuit men don't think much of us Cree, I know that.' A smirk slid across Namagoose's face. ‘But seems your women got different ideas.'

Derek let this pass. ‘What did you do afterwards?'