The bitterness leaked through her smile like overflowing bathwater seeping through a ceiling.
“Is that what happened to you?”
“I don’t know what you’re trying to get at. I don’t mean to be rude, but it’s really none of your business.” She scowled. “We were lovers once, okay? We fell out of love. It was no big secret. He’s dead now and so what does it matter what we were to each other?”
“You got his job.”
“Sure, I got his job. I should have had it years ago, but that doesn’t mean I wished him dead. Anything else?”
“Actually, yes. What would Diamond have done with film he took on his trip?”
“He’d bring the roll back here to be developed, but obviously he wouldn’t have had a chance on this last trip.”
“Has anything showed up here?”
“I wouldn’t know. You’ll have to ask Patrick. Why are you so interested, anyway?”
“There was no film found among Diamond’s belongings — not even any unexposed film. It just seems odd, that’s all.”
“Sorry, can’t help.”
We parted company and on impulse I stopped in at the library, found a pay phone, and put in a call to Duncan. I waited for what seemed like an age before his booming voice blasted my ear.
“What can I do for you, girl?”
I filled him in on what I’d accomplished over the two days since I had talked to him last.
“Interesting, my girl, but no evidence to warrant reopening this case.” He paused and then asked, “Have you got a theory?”
“Sort of,” I said. “He could easily have been taking sleeping pills without his girlfriend knowing. He was the sort of macho man who wouldn’t want to admit to any weakness. But she also said he’d never take sardines into the bush because they’re too smelly and attractive to bears.”
“Do you believe her?”
“Yeah, I do. He knew the bush well. It would have been dumb. As for the sleeping pills, I don’t know of anyone who has to take a sleeping pill in the wild. He’d been out there three weeks. He must have been in great shape, working hard all day in the sun, working up an appetite and then sleeping like a baby. No need of sleeping pills. And the weather was beautiful until late on the night he died — hot and humid and sunny. Easy to go swimming, even after the sun was down, and easy to dump any soiled clothes in the water to clean out the oil, but he didn’t. She’s probably right, although you could argue that he got too tired and simply fell asleep before changing. But it would be like a bloody beacon sending out an invitation to the bear for supper.”
“You do see the complicated in life, don’t you, Cordi? Diamond probably had someone else with him who had brought sardines and it all happened so fast that Diamond couldn’t get rid of them before the bear attacked.”
In one blinding flash I saw it. Why hadn’t I seen it long before this?
“Or maybe there’s another reason,” I said excitedly. “Maybe, just maybe, someone spiked his water and then planted the sardine oil on his pants.”
“What?” Duncan’s voice shook down the line like a jackhammer hitting metal.
“Put it in his water flask.”
“Put what?”
“Sleeping pills.”
“Hang on there, girl. You’re getting carried away. Even supposing someone did, he’d be sure to taste it,” protested Duncan.
My mind was racing, some of the pieces starting to fall into place. I thought back to his mess tent and the iodine tablets I’d seen.
“Not if he was using iodine tablets to purify his water. They’d mask the flavour of anything. What if the oil was spilled later, when he was sleeping?”
“My dear girl!”
“No, it’s not as crazy as it seems. I was talking to Don Allenby. He was very evasive, but he said something about sardines, and then he said something like, ‘Why would I bait him?’ At first I thought he meant ‘bait’ as in ‘taunt,’ but I’m not so sure now. How did he know about the sardines? It wasn’t public knowledge, was it?”
“No. It was never considered important enough to be reported as anything but fish oil. The public was given reassurance that the fish attracted the bear and if they’re just careful in the woods, it won’t happen to them.”
“Don was scared, Duncan. His comment made me think someone could have deliberately used Diamond as bait. The sort of thing bear hunters do in the spring. They set out bait in the bear’s known haunts and then they sit behind a blind and wait.”
“You’re talking murder, girl,” he said, and when I didn’t respond he said more forcefully, “You’re talking gibberish, Cordi. Even if what you say is true, how would they ever be sure the bear would be there? You’ve got to admit that it’s a very unpredictable murder weapon to choose.”
“I don’t know, Duncan. I haven’t yet worked that part out.”
Duncan was silent. I wanted desperately for him to agree with me, or at least to think my theory was possible.
“Don used the word murder before shutting up. But there’s no way I can prove it even if it were true and I found out who was responsible. It makes the fumigating of my larvae and the stealing of my disks make a lot more sense, though. Whoever did it wanted Diamond out of the way but for some reason didn’t want his body found where he died, most likely because it would incriminate whoever it is. That could be just about anybody, but my bet’s on Don. He has the strongest motive of all: his child’s welfare.”
“And he knew about the sardines, a fact I never released publicly. You be careful, girl. I’d hate to lose you now that I’ve found me a forensic entomologist.”
I pulled the receiver away from my ear and looked at it. “I beg your pardon?”
“I’ve decided you should become Dumoine’s first forensic entomologist, girl, on a consulting basis whenever we need you. You have most of the criteria, and it wouldn’t take you long to get the hang of it. We’d just need you to help pinpoint time of death and stuff. You see, there is a dearth of qualified people willing to do this work. I know I’m being a little presumptuous, and you don’t have to say a thing right now. Just think about it and we can talk later.”
He was being unbelievably presumptuous, but before I could say anything there was a loud clanging juddering noise over the lines and I jerked the receiver away. Through the noise I could barely hear Duncan’s voice: “Gotta go! They’re drilling holes for a new fancy-dancy telephone line. Think about it.” And the line went dead.
Since I was still in the building I wandered back to Diamond’s lab, hoping Patrick would still be there so I could ask him some more questions. Transparent reason, but better than none. The door to the lab was open, and I hesitated before I knocked and walked in. I heard a quick breath, a rustle, and a book or something falling.
“What are you doing here?”
“I might ask the same of you,” I said as Lianna moved out from behind a bookcase and stared at me. She said nothing at all, and the silence became uncomfortable. I folded first.
“I was looking for Whyte. Thought he could tell me more about Diamond’s role in the logging issue. Maybe you can help me.”
Lianna still hadn’t blinked, still stared at me with her carefully made-up eyes, and it unnerved me.
“You were there. I saw you on the