The Glacier Gallows (23 page)

“You missed something.” Cole decided to play his hand.

“What?”

“Tell me why you dropped the charges. You tell me and I'll tell you.”

“Mr. Blackwater, you are dangerously close to being charged with obstruction of justice right now.”

“Then arrest me.” Cole held out his hands to invite a pair of handcuffs; Reimer did nothing. “Why did you drop the charges? What did you learn?”

Reimer was silent for so long that Cole nearly started to speak again, but he let the silence hang. His patience paid off.

“We found out that someone tried to set you up for the purchase of the pistol, the one you allegedly bought from Charlie Crowfoot,” Reimer said. “We don't have a positive identification. The
FBI
has located two friends of Mr. Crowfoot who reported that someone matching the description of Blake Foreman was in contact with Mr. Crowfoot around the time he allegedly sold you the gun. These men have told us that this man paid Mr. Crowfoot to lie to the police about the gun.”

“How did you determine that?” Perry was curious.

“The
FBI
questioned half of Browning. The theory that you had bought the gun bugged some people, including Special Agent McCallum. They went at this from another angle. They started flashing photos around town and found out that before you arrived in Browning, someone matching Blake Foreman's
ID
had been seen in town by associates of Mr. Crowfoot. Mr. Crowfoot had then been bragging to his friends that all he had to do for a cool grand was tell anybody who came asking that he had sold
you
a piece. Easy money.”

“But it got him killed.”

“We don't know
that
. The
US
Marshals Service maintains that his death was a suicide. We learned that someone matching Foreman's description had set him up. Our theory went to hell. McCallum couldn't link you to the suspected murder weapon, so the
DA
dropped the extradition request. We dropped the option to charge you in Canada. End of story. I think I've held up my end of this bargain, Mr. Blackwater. What have you got for me?”

Walter produced a large zip-lock bag. Inside was a smaller bag, along with some pink fibers. He handed it to Reimer. She pulled a pair of white plastic gloves from her pocket and put them on. She opened the bag and examined the contents. “What's this fiber?”

“It's from a climbing rope,” said Walter. “My guess is that your lab should be able to isolate the maker of the fiber and determine what brand of rope it's from. That might help narrow it down.”

“How do you think this might be connected?” asked Reimer.

“The baggie was under a rock on a ledge below where the team was camped the night that Marriott was killed,” answered Walter. “The rope fiber was halfway up the cliff, about fifty feet below the ridge. I think that whoever killed Brian Marriott was bivouacked there the night before. I guess it's possible that Foreman slipped out of camp and alerted the killer that Brian would be out in the open and that he should get ready. The killer then used a rope that Foreman fixed to ascend the slope. He hid in the dark until Foreman lured Brian out to the edge of the cliff, then popped him.”

“But Foreman is dead.” Cole put his head in his hands. “There's no way to prove any of this.”

“No, there isn't. But this might help.” Reimer held up the baggie.

“I've also got this,” said Walter, showing Reimer his cell phone. The image of the boot print was on the screen.

“Can you send me this?” she asked.

“Sure. It's size ten, Vibram sole. Pretty common.”

“Yeah, that's what I had on my feet!” said Cole.

“Not helpful, Cole,” said Perry.

PERRY WENT TO THE PARKING
lot to make a phone call, and Walter went to the bathroom. Cole and Inspector Reimer sat in awkward silence at the table. Cole played with an empty plastic cream container. Reimer spoke first. “Funny how we keep going around in circles, isn't it?”

“I'm not sure
funny
is the word I'd use.”

“I just think it's a small world. First we have this whole thing in Oracle. That was a mess. Then last year the thing with Nancy and your father. Now here we are again. It's just too damn small a world.”

Cole stopped playing with the creamer. “What do you mean, the thing with Nancy and my father?”

Reimer paused. “When Nancy was here last spring, looking into what happened with your father.”

“How do you know about my father?”

“I think I've overstepped here,” said Reimer.

“It's too late for that now.” Cole could feel his throat constricting, his vision narrowing.

“Ms. Webber was obviously worried about you.” Reimer dropped the familiar tone. “She was trying to help. She asked me what I knew about your father's death. I told her what I could. I thought it would help her help you. That's all.”

“Is that all?”

“I HAVE TO
get up to Calgary to see about reporting my passport lost, stolen, or whatever.” Cole was standing with Walter and Perry in the parking lot after Reimer had left for Lethbridge. He was still struggling to slow his racing heart after his final conversation with Inspector Reimer.

“You want me to drive you?” Perry was leaning on his car. The driver's-side door had been replaced. There were still some dents in the front quarter panel that had to be banged out.

“No. I need to get some stuff.”

“To go to the passport office?” asked Perry.

“To go to Ottawa.”

COLE AND WALTER
were just outside Claresholm, heading into the Porcupine Hills, when his cell phone rang. Cole looked at the call display. He didn't recognize the number, but the area code was an Ottawa exchange. He thought maybe Nancy had gone early. “Hello?”

“Mr. Blackwater, my name is Gerry Derganc. I was a friend of Brian Marriott's. I wonder if you might have time to chat. I'm in Calgary. I'm going to be here through the weekend. I wonder if we could meet in person.”

“What's this about, Mr. . . . ?”

“Derganc. I'd rather not talk on the phone. I think I know what got Brian killed.”

CALGARY, ALBERTA. SEPTEMBER 11.

“YOU WANT TO MEET WHERE?”
asked Cole.

“The zoo,” said Gerry Derganc. “I'm taking my kids. I can duck out while they watch the nature show on hippos and you and I can chat. I'm only here on weekends, and I promised my wife no work during family time.” They agreed to meet at two o'clock by the African pavilion.

Cole was there early and strolled around the grounds for half an hour before meeting Derganc, a middle-aged man with two girls. The girls sat on the bleachers overlooking the hippo pool while Cole and Gerry retreated to a quiet spot near the doors that led outside. Gerry seemed nervous.

“I've read the newspaper stories, Mr. Blackwater. I know what happened to you. And I know what happened to Brian.”

“What did you want to tell me about?”

The man took a breath and seemed to calm down. Behind them, a pen of warthogs snuffled in the dirt. “I warned him. Brian, I warned him.”

“What are you talking about?”

“When he was poking around with this. Last winter and in the spring. I warned him that he was getting in too deep.”

“Slow down. What exactly did you warn Brian about?”

“I have Brian's old job at the Petroleum Resources Group. Before this I worked for an oil services company. We did a project down in the Green River basin last year, in Wyoming. Huge project, hundreds of wells. Hydraulic fracturing.

“During that project there was a lot of opposition. People said we were poisoning the rivers. Causing earthquakes. Maybe we were. I don't know anymore. Maybe Brian was right to get out when he did. This business isn't what it used to be—”

“What did you warn Brian about?”

“Well, one of the enviros who was fighting this fracking deal, he got his house burned down in the middle of the fight. Nobody was hurt; nobody could make the connection. Wiring or some damn thing was what the fire department said. The message was sent; people backed off.”

“You think that somebody is sending a message? Killing all these people is a hell of a way to do it. That's a few rungs up the ladder from burning down someone's house.”

“I don't know, but I warned him. I just wanted you to know.”

“Mr. Derganc, who was the proponent in the Green River project? Who did you warn Brian about?”

Derganc looked around again. “The company is called High Country Energy. They're based in Cheyenne, Wyoming. They were just a small operator until three, four years ago. That's when Senator Lester Thompson resigned his seat and took up the
CEO
post. Now they are making huge deals and undertaking massive plays.”

“What do we know about this Thompson guy?”

“Six terms in the
US
Senate. Senate Arms Services Committee chair, before that Foreign Relations chair, before that ranking member on Energy. The guy has some kind of special place in his heart for Asia. China in particular. If you ask me, he's a nut job.”

“You better get back to your kids.” Cole motioned to the hippo show, which had wrapped up.

“What are you going to do?” Derganc asked.

“Poke around.”

“But what about what I just told you?” Derganc sounded exasperated.

“I've been warned.”

THE NEXT DAY
Cole got on a plane from Calgary to Ottawa. He got an aisle seat so he could stretch out his legs. After the plane was airborne, he wrestled for five minutes with the decision and finally ordered a beer. After people had settled in to watch a movie or read, Cole took out a pad and scribbled some notes; he needed to straighten out what he knew. He marked each point with his trademark arrow:

• → Blake Foreman set up Charlie Crowfoot. Paid him to lie and say that he sold me a gun. Did Foreman drive to Heart Butte and kill Chip? Then what? Foreman joins hiking party and relays messages? How? Foreman makes regular radio calls to his shadow, informing them of where we were going and to plan the final execution?
  
• → Did Foreman radio killer to tell him he would wake Marriott and lure him to the cliff edge? How and when did he get my shirt?
  
• → Then what? Next morning Foreman took Winters and Hook on search. Tad Thomas found the body. Once body found, Foreman continued search. Why? What was there left to find? Whoever killed Brian arranged a rendezvous with Blake Foreman, and then killed him too?
  
• → Turcotte wandered off to find a better cell signal. Could Rick Turcotte have lured Brian to his death?
  
• → Charlie Crowfoot turns up dead. Someone got to Crowfoot in detention center? Or did he plan to kill himself from the start?
  

Cole made his next point in all capital letters:

• → WHO SHOT ME?
  

Cole needed answers. He needed to determine what had happened to Brian Marriott. He needed answers because they might be the only thing that would keep him alive.

OTTAWA, ONTARIO. SEPTEMBER 12.

WHEN HE ARRIVED IN OTTAWA,
Cole dropped his bags at the Lord Elgin hotel. Nancy had booked the room, and Cole felt a tightness in his chest when the clerk asked him if his companion would be arriving later. The deception he had uncovered in his conversation with Reimer burned in his stomach, but he didn't want to confront Nancy, not yet. He set out on foot for Brian's house.

Half an hour later he was in an upscale neighborhood of large homes and tree-lined streets. He pulled out the slip of paper he'd written the address on to be sure he was at the right place. A woman got out of an Audi parked in front of the house.

“Hi, Jane,” Cole said, stuffing the note back into his pocket and extending his hand. “Thanks for calling me back.”

“Cole,” she said, shaking his hand. She was a tall woman, and beautiful, but it looked like the last few months had taken their toll.

“I'm sorry for your loss.”

“You told me on the phone. I'm getting on with things.”

“How are your boys taking this?”

“They keep themselves distracted. They're both heading back to university in a few days, so that will be easier for them. You know, Cole, the last time I saw you, we were at some reception on the Hill and you and Brian were both pounding it pretty hard and having a real good fight about something.”

“I remember that night.”

“I can hardly imagine how.”

“A lot of water under that bridge. I'm sorry about you and Brian.”

“You should be. It was your fault.” Cole looked like he'd been slapped. Jane smiled thinly. “Not really, Cole. Brian had just had enough—of the petroleum business, of me, of everything. He turned away from everything that was important in his life. I just couldn't stand being in second place. I left about six months ago. If I'd known . . .” She seemed to catch her breath. “You said you wanted to look around the place? The
RCMP
was already here, you know. They took a bunch of stuff out of his office.”

“I figured they would have, but I'm in town for something else and figured this couldn't hurt.”

They walked up the steps and crossed the broad front porch. Jane opened the door. The house smelled musty, and Cole felt a wave of unease wash over him.

Jane said, “I've been by a few times. You know, to take the plants and whatnot. I haven't decided if I'm going to move back in or sell the place.”

Cole walked through the living room and then the kitchen. He didn't really know what he was looking for. “Jane, when Brian and I were together just before the hike, he said that he had a file at home in a safe place. Do you know where that might have been?”

“He had a safe.”