The Glacier Gallows (26 page)

Cole pressed the earpiece tighter so he could hear over the outburst of derision. David Canning rose to his feet. “Mr. Speaker, Canada and the United States are partners in continental energy exploration and development. Our meeting was between old friends seeking mutually beneficial export opportunities for ethical oil from Canada to China.” He sat down amid catcalls.

The Opposition critic was on her feet before the minister had finished. “Mr. Speaker, be that as it may, the minister wasn't meeting about so-called ethical oil exports or markets. He was meeting with the man who controls the development of China's nuclear power plants. My question for the minister is this: isn't it true that this government is considering a bid from the Chinese state-controlled Nuclear Power Corporation to build a nuclear power plant to fuel unprecedented growth of the tar sands, and that it is doing so in collusion with the
US
company High Country Energy?”

MP
s jumped to their feet, yelling and jeering. The Speaker of the House rose and called for order. It took more than a minute for the speaker to impose decorum on the House. When he did, it was Rick Turcotte who rose in defense of the government.

“Mr. Speaker, I don't know where the Honourable Member gets off slinging such baseless accusations in this House. If she has proof, then let her table it here and now, or she can sit down and keep her accusations to herself!”

Cole leaned into Tara Sinclair as the House once again roared with catcalls. “When the government can't defend itself, the first thing it does is go on the attack.” Cole pulled his earpiece and put it back on the chair.

“Where are you going?”

“To get some real answers.”

“WAS IT JUST
like the good old days?” asked Nancy. Cole was standing outside Parliament, talking with her on his cell.

“Not really. I don't know, maybe I'm just out of practice, but bagging the minister that way wasn't very satisfying.”

“Pesh wants me to stay here and write the story for the chain.”

“I think you should. There's a lot more to it. This is going to be a major catastrophe for the government.

“This is going to be all over the news by tonight. I'm going to fly back to Calgary and then drive down to Wyoming to the headquarters of High Country Energy.”

“You don't have a passport.”

“Don't trouble me with complications.”

CHEYENNE, WYOMING. SEPTEMBER 14.

ON WEDNESDAY MORNING, COLE CROSSED
the border just west of where the Milk River trickled from Montana into Alberta. Cole drove Walter's pickup truck, and he crossed illegally, without his passport, on a dirt road leading onto the Blackfeet Reservation. From there he drove south on a network of ranch roads and picked up I-15 north of Shelby. He drove down the Judith Basin at twilight and watched as the light made famous by landscape artist Charlie Russell painted the rolling hills. He slept in a Super 8 in Sheridan, Wyoming, and in the morning rose early and drove toward the state capital. By noon he was in Cheyenne.

Cole called Nancy, who was still in Ottawa. “What have you got?”

“Oh boy,” she said. “The Opposition is calling for the resignation of David Canning and Rick Turcotte. There's nothing official yet, but it doesn't look good for those two. Of course, more damning information is coming to light. Shortly after the trade mission to China, your Senator Thompson did a circuit through Canada and met with senior Chinese officials, along with Rick Turcotte, up in Fort McMurray. They did a tour of the tar sands and looked at possible sites for a nuclear power plant to feed the development of the tar sands.”

“Turcotte lied to my face, the prick. Brian and I talked about the possibility of nukes fueling the tar sands. I didn't make anything of it at the time. We didn't know that Chinese officials were involved then, just Thompson. Have you figured out what the advantage would be for China to build this instead of, say, Canada's Nuclear Power Corporation?”

“I think it's tit for tat. It might be a little cheaper, you know, five hundred mill, to let China build the plant over using a
CANDU
reactor, but the real game is about greasing China's palm. They want to sink tens and tens of billions into the tar sands. Canada needs the investment, so we let them sell us a nuke and hold out our hand to accept more venture-capital dollars.”

“And why is Thompson involved?”

“I'm going to send you his bio; read it before you go storming into his office. When he was in the Senate, he was a big proponent of opening the energy relationship with China. It made him a bit of a pariah in his party. Everybody else was wary of a relationship, but Thompson argued that the
US
couldn't turn its back on the fastest-growing energy market in the world. He knows all the players in China. Now that he's a
CEO
, he's not constrained by politics or national loyalty. He's discovered that Canada is far more open to a business relationship with China. He wants to broker the connection between Canning and the Chinese government.”

Cole was sitting in the pickup truck in a parking lot near the Wyoming State Capitol building. “Yeah, I was just thinking that. Easier said than done.”

“Are you saying you went all that way without a plan?”

“Who, me? Never. I just haven't put the finishing touches on it yet.”

“Cole, be careful. I doubt very much that a man like Thompson would be involved in this if there wasn't something substantial at stake.”

Cole pulled out his laptop and collected his email and read the senator's bio. There was a long military history in the man's family that included all three of his sons. Cole drove to the office building that housed the headquarters of High Country Energy. He debated which approach to take. In the past he would have simply barged in and demanded answers. But if
HCE
was indeed involved in the death of Brian Marriott, this might not be a wise move. At the very least, he would find himself on his ass and likely under arrest for being in the country illegally. Cole parked across the street from the
HCE
office and felt the last vestiges of his rage-induced enthusiasm drain away. He took the keys out of the ignition and stepped out of the truck.

“So, just what exactly are you going to do, Blackwater?” he said out loud as he approached the building. “Walk in and accuse a former senator of conspiring to murder someone?” He walked into the central atrium, a spacious room that was open three stories to skylights.
HCE
occupied the third floor of the complex. Shunning the elevator, Cole took the stairs and at the top stepped through a door in front of a wood-paneled reception desk.

“Can I help you?” asked a woman sitting behind the desk.

Cole cleared his throat. “Hi, yes, I'm . . . I'd like to talk with someone about your company. About a job. I wonder if Mr. Thompson is in?”

The woman looked at Cole. He was dressed in blue jeans, a button-down shirt, and his scuffed leather jacket. His hair, while clean, fell in a mess of dark curls over his forehead. “I don't think you want to talk with Senator Thompson,” the receptionist said. “Our
VP
of human resources is Tom Oxford. He might have a moment to see you.” She reached for her phone.

“No, I'd really like to see Mr. Thompson. A friend of mine, Rick Turcotte, told me to see him personally.”

“Mr. Thompson isn't in the office today or this week, in fact. I'll ring Mr. Oxford. Sorry, your name is . . . ?”

“Blackwater. Cole Blackwater.”

Cole sat for what seemed like an unreasonably long time before a man in tan slacks and an immaculate white shirt appeared at the door. “Mr. Blackwater?” He had a thick western drawl.

Cole stood and extended his hand. “Yes, sir. Mr. Oxford?”

“That's right. Tammy says you're looking for a job? We normally hire through an agency.”

“Well, more a career. I'm considering a move from Alberta to Wyoming. I just thought I'd stop in and ask you a few questions.”

“Sure. Come on back. Can I get you anything?”

“No thanks.” Cole followed Oxford through the hallways to his office.

“Is that Mr. Thompson's office there?” Cole pointed to a corner room.

“Sure. But the senator isn't in right now.”

“I notice everybody calls him senator.”

“Yeah, once you've been in the big house, you hang on to the credentials. Now, what kind of career move are you thinking about?”

“Well, right now I work for an energy company called Nexus. We do alternatives.” Cole sat down when Oxford pointed to a club chair. Oxford remained standing, leaning back on his desk. “I thought I'd look around down here and see who has a corporate social responsibility platform and offer my services. What do you guys do in terms of good corporate citizenship?”

Oxford was bobbing his head up and down rhythmically. “We have a good
CSR
strategy. We make regular investments in the communities where we work. We follow the guidelines of whatever country we're working in to the letter.”

“What countries do you work in?”

“Well, here in the
US
, of course. And Canada. We're also developing a Latin American profile. And we're looking at a play in the Middle East, though I've got to tell you, that's a dicey place to do business.”

“What about Asia?”

“Sure, we consider Asia a principal market, but not a source.”

“What have you got going on in Canada? Maybe I could be of some help there?”

“We're just exploring those options right now. There are both conventional and nonconventional opportunities there.”

“Tar sands? What's your stake?”

“We don't have one yet. We're looking at a partnership right now.”

“With whom?”

“Well, I'm not really at liberty to say.”

“I see. What about in Montana?”

“We're partnering with the Blackfeet on a gas operation. We'll see how it turns out.”

“What are you doing about the environment in those cases?”

“As I said, Mr. Blackwater, we're doing everything the law requires. We're a good corporate citizen.”

“Mr. Oxford, I noticed on the Internet that there was some controversy when you tried to make a play for a gas operation in the Green River basin.” Oxford didn't say anything. “Someone's house got burned down?”

“I have no idea what you're talking about.”

“An activist in Jackson Hole who opposed
HCE
fracking in the Green River basin. His house got burned down. Some say that your company was behind that?”

Oxford smiled.

“What's funny?” asked Cole.

“I was wondering how long it would take you to bring that up.” Oxford looked at his watch. “Four minutes. You showed great restraint, Mr. Blackwater.” Oxford reached over and turned his computer monitor so that Cole could see it: Cole's consulting web page was open.

“You haven't answered the question, Mr. Oxford.”

“And I don't intend to. You come in here and think that I'm not going to look you up? Nobody walks in off the street and asks about a job. You're trying to dig up some dirt. You've come to the wrong place.”

“Have you heard of the Alternative Energy Group?”

“No.”

“You sure? Brian Marriott?”

“I have no idea who that is. Another environmentalist, I assume.”

“He was murdered in Glacier National Park in July. I think he was poking his finger in your Senator Thompson's eye over something you're working on. Whatever it was, your boss didn't like it and had him killed.”

Oxford picked up the phone and pressed a number. “Yes, Tammy, would you please call the sheriff's office and ask that they send a car? Thank you.” He hung up.

Cole stood up. “That won't be necessary. I'm going. But you can tell your boss this.” Cole stepped close to Oxford. “I'm coming for him. I know what's going on.”

Oxford just smiled. “I'm sure Senator Thompson will be very pleased to hear it.”

Cole walked out of the office and made for the stairs. He reached the street, found Walter's truck, and quickly drove around the block. He saw a sheriff's deputy pull up in front of the building as he did.

CASPER, WYOMING. SEPTEMBER 14.

COLE ROCKETED NORTH, OUT OF
the city. He checked his rearview mirror often; the sheriff's deputy who had arrived at the
HCE
office as he was leaving hadn't followed him. It was almost eight o'clock when he reached the outskirts of Casper. He knew he could keep driving, but he was worn out and hungry. He decided to take the exit on the south side of the city and quickly found a respectable-looking motel with the added bonus of a roadhouse-style tavern next door. He checked in, using his credit card to pay for the room, then called Nancy and told her about his conversation with the
HCE
executive.

“What did you expect? That you'd get to see Thompson and he'd confess to conspiracy to commit murder? Look, head back home. Leave the investigation to the
RCMP
and the
FBI
.”

“Are you kidding me? I leave this to the feds and the horsemen and they are never going to find out who framed
me
and who whacked Brian! I'm going to hook up with Joe Firstlight tomorrow and see what is going on with the band council and
HCE
. Then I'm going to talk with Derek McGrath and see what I can learn from him. He's out in East Glacier, where these bastards want to drill. And after that I'm going back to Calgary. My guess is that someone in that city is involved in this mess up in the tar sands. I'm going to start with Gerry Derganc and nail his ass to the wall on this. I'm going to get some answers.”