A Door in the River by Inger Ash Wolfe Read Free Book Online

of buildings at the heart of the reserve. There was also a hotel, a large convenience store, the social services office, a hospital, a garage, and the casino. She knew that a minor network of roads snaked off the two-lane blacktop that cut through the middle of the reserve, and that more than ten thousand people lived here. There was a community centre and a skating rink, and the Triple-A team that played in that arena a couple of times a week in the winter provided the best live sport in the county. None of the buildings were more than twenty-five years old, and from what Hazel could tell, the HQ had been built within the decade. Inside, it bustled with activity: behind intake the whole operation was visible within a generous atrium. Thick orange light poured down into it as the sun set behind the building. There were officers seated in ergonomic chairs at semi-circular desks on which sat newcomputers. She noticed a few officers walking around with electronic tablets in their hands, which they tapped on with plastic styluses.
    She waited ten minutes and then was shown into Commander LeJeune’s office. It was a compact room behind a glass partition, with a native woodcarving on the desk and a drum hanging on the wall. There was another officer present: this was Reserve Constable Lydia Bellecourt. Both she and LeJeune stood when Hazel entered and she shook their hands in turn. Bellecourt was a very tall, young Ojibway with astonishingly long and sleek black hair constrained beneath her cap. LeJeune gestured for them to sit, and then she handed both Bellecourt and her guest file folders on which the tabs read, “07/08/2005: Wiest, H. P. WM, DOB 06/11/1959.”
    “I know RC Bellecourt already faxed a copy of this up to your Detective Wingate, but I thought we might all need a clean copy. What with the urgency of your visit.”
    “That’s … thoughtful of you, thank you,” said Hazel, finding it hard to strike the exasperated tone she’d planned on deploying. “I do have to say, however, that although I admire the procedural efficiency, I was a little surprised that the autopsy was done on the reserve when the victim was a resident of Westmuir County.”
    “We had permission from the victim’s wife, DI Micallef.”
    “But what about us? What about the OPS? We didn’t deserve a heads-up?”
    “All of the reports were faxed to your detachment as soon as they were completed. I’m afraid paperwork can take a long time. We try to be thorough.”
    “Well, all I know is that a man is found dead on reserve property and before the body is even cold, you’ve done your autopsy and let people wander back and forth over the scene. There’s no evidence collection, no pictures of the site, and no witness statements. You have a pretty little police station, but I’m not sure you know what you’re doing in it.”
    “Oh dear, you’re quite upset, Detective Inspector,” said Commander LeJeune. “But let me reassure you, we followed all the applicable protocols in Mr. Wiest’s death. His next of kin was notified and consented to the autopsy in our jurisdiction. Normally it’s a matter of some urgency, as you know.”
    “There’s a proper hospital fifteen minutes away that could have done that and it would have been in the right jurisdiction to determine whether the death looked suspicious.”
    LeJeune had folded her hands over the report. “We
have
a proper hospital. One, in fact, better equipped than Mayfair General. In any case, there was no evidence of foul play, no defensive wounds, no material witnesses to his death, and no suspicious matter near the site. Therefore, there was nothing to photograph – except for the dead man’s body, which we
did
do, please check page three of your documentation – and no reason to canvass beyond thesmoke shop. And no one in the smoke shop saw or heard anything suspicious.”
    “I beg your pardon,” said Hazel, working up to the desired tone, “but when a healthy man of