A lot of ifs and buts. Leith rested chin on knuckles and tried to look one step ahead of all this instead of two steps behind.
Paley, too, seemed to be lagging, but he wasn’t shy about saying so. “So unlike the rest of us, Mighty Mouse, you’ve got it all worked out.”
“Unless it’s retribution,” Dion said. “In which case it’ll be coming our way, anyhow.”
Leith didn’t understand the last remark at all. He jotted down the word so he could mull it over. Retribution. Torr scowled at Dion across the table. “You’re still saying ‘she’ like it’s a fact. Who says it’s a ‘she’?”
“Nine to one she is,” Dion told him shortly, not so crisp as Leith first thought. Feverish-looking, like he was fuelled by uppers.
“And I said, says who it’s a she?” Torr repeated.
But Dion had run out of words and sat staring across at Torr in blank silence.
Leith used the opportunity to air his own objections to posting a press release or Crime Stoppers spot about the missing bootie. “For one thing, it’s holdback info. For another, if there was a second person, I doubt he or she would put themselves in peril at any price, and I’m sure as hell not willing to offer immunity up front. Rosalie was still alive when those two — if there were two of them — left the scene. I’m damned if whoever could have saved that child but didn’t cuts a deal and walks.”
“It’s lousy holdback,” Dion said. “We’ve got better. And sure it’s iffy, but say it works, it’s better than the alternative.”
“The alternative is …?” Torr said.
“She keeps quiet and stays with the killer, and he gets her next.”
Earlier this morning, Bosko had pulled Leith aside for a mysterious chat. “I’m sure you get the drift that I’ve got a bit of an informal investigation underway,” Bosko had said. He spoke with more gravity than Leith was accustomed to, which made him sit up and listen. “But it’s purely at this level right now.” Bosko pointed at his own temple as he said it, making clear the level he meant. “So not a concern for you right now. A’right?”
“Sure,” Leith said, though he wasn’t sure at all. “Yes, sir.”
But Bosko wasn’t done. “I’m actually glad we’re talking about this. Because everything aside, you know, I’m worried about his welfare, and he doesn’t seem to have much of a support system. In the most general sense, I’d like you to keep an eye on him for me, would you?”
Leith had walked away from the meeting with one eye shut. He was being locked out, and then invited in, no names named. Odd.
“Right?” Dion was saying to Paley, still on the track Leith had somewhat lost. “A lot better than she puts her life on the line in a blackmail plot that’s going to end up getting her killed.”
Torr said something about men with crystal balls. Paley said, “I’ll put it to Bosko, see what he thinks.”
He did, and later that morning Leith learned that Bosko, in consultation with other arms of the law, thought the offer of immunity wasn’t a great plan, but true, time was of the essence, and right now dangling carrots was their best bet at catching the man behind the horrific killings. Go for it.
* * *
Dion made lists till his head ached. So far no evidence collected from the Liu home or Lance Liu’s truck had jumped out as being useful. Sigmund Blatt had been researched hard, interviewed again, and all but disqualified as a person of interest. Blatt had nothing to gain from the deaths. He had no apparent grievance with his partner. They were good friends, in fact. Had met at work in Alberta as novices and remained pals ever since. Blatt had a minor criminal record, but stupidity-related, nothing violent, and nothing to do with Liu or the partnership.
During the investigation, Blatt left the province. Following his second interview he had called in and talked to Torr, letting him know he was shutting down the L&S business, now that the L was gone, and moving back to Alberta. Torr had asked him why. Blatt admitted that he was spooked. Maybe whoever had killed Lance would be after him, too. Torr asked him how he figured that might happen. Blatt said he didn’t know and didn’t want to stick around to find out. So he went, with strict orders to remain reachable.
Dion was paired up with Jimmy Torr on this case, and it was hardly the ideal working relationship, but together they chipped away at the personal lives of Lance and Cheryl. They talked at some length to Lance’s extended family members, often by teleconference with the States. They contacted the couple’s friends and relations in B.C. and Alberta, and previous employers, and even talked to Joey’s preschool teachers, in case there was some bizarre connection with the surviving child. No connection was made. They went through computers, bank records, phone data. They used documents found in the truck to backtrack through Lance Liu’s last living day, from invoices written to receipts for a Tim Hortons lunch, speaking to the two clients he’d dealt with, and looking at video footage from the gas station where he’d filled up for the last time in his life. By the end they had a patchy timeline and a better sense of who he was, but not much else.
They dug deep into the business itself, L&S Electric. Traced it back to its inception, checking for conflict along the way: displaced competitors, disgruntled clients. Finally they googled any keywords they could think of, hoping it would spit out some snippet of news or a blog bit or whatever else might be floating out there that might give some insight into what had happened.
Nothing emerged. The Liu marriage seemed solid enough, with no jealous lovers in the wings. L&S seemed ethically run. Both electricians, Lance and Sig, had their tickets, and had sunk their savings into the enterprise, coming at it debt-free. Cheryl Liu did the books, and if Lance was busy, she answered the phone for the company. She booked appointments and even offered advice to callers. The electricians hadn’t been making money hand over fist, but they had just gotten started and seemed like sensible, ordinary men running a sensible, ordinary business.
Altogether it felt like three wasted days. Dion was about to start wasting Day Four on this line of inquiry, which was the seventh day following the murders, when he heard the breaking news: they had a suspect, and it had nothing to do with his hard work. It was a hot tip fresh in from Calgary. He dropped what he was doing and followed Torr down the hall to where the case room was set up like a shrine to the murdered Liu family.
Paley was at the computer, setting it up for his presentation. The news was big enough that Mike Bosko had come to listen in, standing next to Leith. Dion and others gathered around.
“It came in at just before five this morning,” Paley said. “Which is just before six Mountain Time. A CPS officer named Brinkley got a recorded message on his work cell number. He passed the message to Calgary Serious Crimes, who forwarded it on to us. Dave and I just spent the last half hour listening to the call. It’s a blocked number, but Calgary sourced it by the background PA noises to Rockyview General. Oh, and it’s anonymous,”