“Yes.” He smoothed out his frown. “I’ve been working with him for two years now looking at parasites on Canada lynx. He does most of the fieldwork and I do the lab stuff.”
“What was he working on up in the bush before he died?”
“I don’t know for sure. He said it was follow-up stuff on his lynx population experiments, that he needed to get a tad more data, but he’d already put in six weeks up there earlier in the spring with our pilot, Jeff, following our radio-tagged lynx. At first I thought he was goofing off, three weeks and all, when he had a lot to do here, but everyone needs a holiday and it was so peaceful without him hanging around me like a leech.”
“What changed your mind?”
“I got the impression that he was either working on something new or had a new angle on something old. He seemed quite excited about it, but then he always overreacted to everything. I did get the impression that it might have been a new project or maybe something to do with the logging, but he never said and I wasn’t about to ask. We all keep things close to our chests when it’s something new. No one wants to be scooped.”
I felt a pang of resentment. First Leslie, now Diamond. Why couldn’t I find something new?
“You didn’t like him.”
“No, I didn’t.”
He ended the sentence as if he was ending the conversation, but I persevered.
“I understand you two didn’t see eye to eye over this logging business.”
Patrick looked up quickly and fixed me with a frown that made his eyebrows merge into one long bushy slash. I much preferred the smile.
“We had our differences. He was a real firebrand radical when it came to the logging issue. He had to win at all costs. I thought he was an asshole and not harmless. He was a dangerous man. Intelligent but with a real temper, and he had a real problem with women. He did try to treat them as equals, but they shone out of his eyes as sex symbols — with no brains. If you’ve ever met his wife you’ll get my drift, although I must say his current girlfriend isn’t so bad. Guess he’s getting better at picking them.”
“He’s got a girlfriend? Does his wife know?”
“Does his wife know? Are you kidding? Everybody knew. The wife was filing for divorce. He’d been through half the department here. The man chased anything in a skirt. He wasn’t a cruel man — just horny.”
I thought about Lianna’s tear-streaked face. Perhaps not such a grief-stricken widow as she had seemed, pretending to rein in emotions that weren’t there. Good actor though. I had to wonder why. To get the black book? Why was it so important?
“Who’s his girlfriend?”
“You mean his current one?”
“Yes.” God, how many had he had, I thought, suddenly feeling sorry for Lianna in spite of myself.
“Shannon. Healthy, shy little thing, not like his usual mannequins. She was in here the other day picking up some stuff from his office. Pretty broken up about it, I’ll say that for her. Not like the wife. They had a hell of a fight here. Met in the hall outside his office.”
“What happened?”
“They lost it. What a ruckus. They were screeching so loudly and the swear words were colouring the air blue. Something about Diamond’s property and will, but why Shannon should be hoping to get it is beyond me. Wife’s entitled to everything unless he left a will saying otherwise. Anyway, it was pretty ugly, and Davies nearly burst a gut trying to get them out before the students heard any more. Quite comical, actually. He looked just like a sheepdog trying to herd his sheep.”
“Had she and Diamond been together long?”
“Year, year and a half, I’d say. No more, anyway. I must say, he seemed quite happy with her. She’d be able to tell you more about Diamond than any of us if you’re willing to be patient. She’s in Ottawa. Lives on McLeod, I think. Diamond commuted on weekends. I can give you her number if you like.”
I nodded. Patrick rummaged through a desk, then wrote down the number on a scrap of paper and handed it to me. I noticed his fingers were long and slender and he wore a single ring on his right hand, a grey star sapphire that showed dull in the false light of his office.
“You should talk to Leslie, too. Do you know her?” he asked as I took the paper from him. He didn’t let his half go right away, and I wasn’t sure what to do. I shook my head and looked up at him, feeling like a fool as I hung onto my half of the little piece of paper.
He smiled and suddenly let go. I squirreled the piece of paper away and said, “I was just talking to her.”
“Good,” he said. “She can tell you a lot, I’m sure.” He laughed and shook his head. “They loved to hate each other, those two. He got tenure and she didn’t. Apparently they were equally qualified, but there was only one tenured position open. They say she was very bitter and vindictive. Claims it was sexist. Who knows? Happened before I was here. She’s got his job now and tenure will follow I’m sure. Damned happy about it, I should say. Poor taste though. Wouldn’t put it past her to have been smiling at the funeral.”
I picked up a small tooth on top of the desk, twirled it in my hands. It looked like the tooth of a carnivore.
“What’s this?”
“That’s a Canada lynx tooth. Diamond collected a lot of samples whenever he could, and he had an extensive tooth collection that he prized. All the cats from all over the world: lion, cougar, jaguar, cheetah … He nearly knocked the lights out of one of the loggers at a meeting when he broke the chain around Diamond’s neck and flung it across the room. It was one of his precious teeth, and nobody lays a finger on his precious teeth without permission. There’s a film of that meeting. You should take a look at it if you want to see what Diamond was like. Quite entertaining.”
“What meeting was that?”
“An information meeting about the logging up near Dumoine. It got quite emotional.”
“How can I get a copy of that film?”
“I’ll set up a showing for you at the media centre here if you want.”
“I’d like that. It could be useful,” I said. I put the tooth back on the desk. “Did Diamond usually take photos when he went out on his trips?”
“Yes. He always had his camera with him just in case.”
“What about this last trip? Anything turned up?”
He looked at me curiously, and I noticed that his blue eyes were flecked with black motes that made them appear fathomless.
“Nothing’s turned up here that I know of, but then the police are probably sitting on it still.”
“They didn’t find any film.”
He frowned but said nothing.
“Did you ever go on any of his field trips?”
“Yes. He hated company, but he usually needed it when he was tranquilizing the cats to put a radio collar on, and that’s when I’d get my samples — you know, you’re a zoologist — vials of ticks and stuff. Anyway, I always shot the dart — he hated to do that.”
“Isn’t that out of character? I would have thought he would be the sort of macho man who would hunt.”
“No, he hated weapons of any kind. He blinded a kid in one eye with a BB gun when he was eight. Apparently they were in the woods alone and the kid screamed and there was blood everywhere and he kind of lost it. It made him sick. As I said he was a sensitive man, at least when it came to anything inherently violent. I can’t help but like that in the man. But he was too damn stubborn. Thought he was right all the time. Trouble was he was bright enough that he usually was. Anyway, I would shoot the darts and