Black Fly Season - Giles Blunt

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Two, there are the interests of diplomacy to consider you can’t put a price on goodwill with your local police force. And three, there’s the problem with getting your building up to code.’

      ‘You see any code violations here?’

      ‘An inspector might. Just like Natural Resources might find you have a problem with your garbage out back. Just like the health department might find you’ve got a problem with your septic tank. Just like the—’

      Lasalle looked at Cardinal.

      ‘She always this irritable?’

      ‘You haven’t seen her irritable.’

      ‘Look, lady,’ Lasalle said. ‘I haven’t seen the guy. Nobody’s seen him. In fact, if you should happen to come across the Wombat in your travels, bring him here when you’re done with him.’

      ‘I thought you guys were blood brothers,’ Cardinal said. ‘Don’t tell me he done you wrong.’

      ‘Let’s just say old Wombat has some ‘splaining to do.’

      ‘Which might answer the question of why he’s missing. Maybe you already made your point with him and he isn’t coming back again.’

      ‘Where did you see him last?’ Delorme said. ‘You still haven’t answered that.’

      ‘Believe it or not, I don’t keep track of his comings and goings. Last time I remember seeing him we had a few people round, we watched a video, Wombat passed out on the couch. Not unusual for him. I expected to find him here next morning but I didn’t. Now he doesn’t answer his cell phone and he doesn’t seem to be home and I have no idea where he is. He doesn’t write, he doesn’t phone, and we’re all just worried sick.’

      ‘You want to find him,’ Delorme said. ‘You’re pissed off at him.’

      ‘What are you, my therapist? You want to explore my feelings, honey, make an appointment. Don’t just come banging on my door.’

      ‘Where would Wombat be most likely to go?’

      ‘You’re letting the bugs in,’ Lasalle said, and closed the door.

      Cardinal and Delorme hopped back to the car, each in a penumbra of flies.

      Delorme started the engine. ‘That was a weird testosterone display you had with Haystack.’

      ‘Guys like that are like dogs. They need to know where they stand.’

      ‘If you say so. Anyway, me, I get the feeling the Vikings are seriously annoyed with Wombat.’

      ‘Which could mean they did away with him.’ Cardinal rubbed at a bite on his neck.

      ‘Don’t scratch. You’ll only make it worse.’

      When they were back on the highway Delorme said, ‘You know, that Lasalle is seriously good-looking for a biker.’

      ‘Well, we’re very good-looking for cops.’

      They were quiet for the rest of the drive back. There was only the sound of wind and tires and the odd squawk from the radio. Cardinal was thinking about the young woman with no memory. Those green eyes looked so innocent, her whole manner was so benign, it was hard to imagine anyone wanting to kill her. Then again, who knew what her previous personality may have been? For all Cardinal knew, she could be Bitch Incarnate. The only thing he was sure of: with no home and no memory, she must be the loneliest woman on Earth, and he wanted to find the person who had done that to her.

       6

      Catherine Cardinal had packed her cameras several times over the past few days, only to unpack them, check the lenses and batteries, and pack them again. But she had left her personal packing to the last moment. When the rented minivan with its load of student shutterbugs honked outside the house early that morning, she was still folding T-shirts and zipping up toiletries and searching in the closet and under the bed for extra shoes.

      Cardinal answered the door. The woman on the porch was tall, maybe forty, not exactly pretty, but she looked smart, and Cardinal always found that attractive.

      ‘I just thought I’d see if Catherine needed any help,’ she said.

      ‘I think she’s got everything under control. It’ll just be a minute.’

      ‘My name’s Christine Nadeau,’ the woman said, putting out her hand to shake. ‘This is the third course I’ve taken with your wife. Do you have any idea what a great teacher she is?’

      ‘I have heard that before. But thanks for telling me.’

      ‘Everybody’s very excited about this trip.’

      ‘Good. So is Catherine.’

      Christine Nadeau went back to wait in the car, and Cardinal found Catherine zipping up her carry-on in the bedroom. Her face was flushed, and she looked short of breath. Should I say something?

      ‘I’m so disorganized,’ Catherine said. She was shoving loose change and bills into her jeans pocket as Cardinal hauled the suitcase out to the front room. ‘You’d think I’d learn by now.’

      ‘You’re not disorganized. You were just focused on making sure your camera gear was in shape.’

      ‘I’m not going to check it again,’ Catherine said. ‘It’s a supreme act of will, but I’m not going to check it again.’

      She put on a khaki fisherman’s vest. Even on Catherine it was perfectly hideous, but it had thousands of pockets for film, flash, batteries, pens, labels, and filters – the myriad doodads of the serious photographer.

      ‘Did you pack your medication?’ Cardinal said. He had to. It wasn’t in him to let her leave town and not say this.

      Catherine turned her back on him and put on a light coat over the vest. A slim black coat. It had a hood with a red lining that gave off echoes of fairy tales.

      ‘Did you hear me, sweetheart?’

      ‘Yes, John. I heard you. Yes, I packed my medication. Thank you for reminding me that I can’t be trusted to so much as cross the road without supervision.’

      ‘All right. I shouldn’t have said anything.’

      ‘Here I am excited about a big project and you just have to rain on the parade, don’t you.’

      ‘Don’t over-react, honey. I’m glad you’re taking the trip. You should know by now – after twenty-five years or however long it’s been – I’m a worry wart. Always have been, always will be. Have a good time, and I’ll see you when you get back.’

      Catherine hauled her suitcase outside without another word. Cardinal watched her get into the car, an ache in his chest. I shouldn’t have said anything.

      He was in the kitchen clearing away the breakfast things when Catherine rushed back in. She stopped in the kitchen doorway, and took a deep breath.

      ‘Okay,’ she said. ‘I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to be a bitch. It’s just sometimes, once in a while – once in a great while – I actually imagine I’m normal. I actually fantasize that I can do all the things normal people do without a second thought, and why should anyone worry about it. It’s hard for me to remember I have this problem. It’s painful to be reminded of it.’

      ‘I’m sorry if I brought you down,’ Cardinal said. ‘Old habits…’

      Catherine came closer, and stood on tiptoe to kiss him on the cheek.

      ‘You worry too much.’

      A little later, Cardinal and Delorme drove up to St Francis hospital. It wasn’t actually called St Francis any more, but Cardinal still thought of it that way. Algonquin

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