LeJeune. “That’s excellent.”
“Jesus Christ,” said Hazel. “The point is, he was murdered. He was
electrocuted
.”
Commander LeJeune’s eyes lit up. “Oh, thank you,” she said.
“Thank you?”
LeJeune was accepting a tray of tea from one of her administrative assistants, and she put it on her desk and poured each of them a cup. “Try this,” she said. “It’s cranberry tea. It’s excellent for a lot of things.” This woman was so poised it was unholy. She reminded Hazel of Chip Willan, but where his stance was one of self-possessed malice, LeJeune was being genuinely professional. Her attention was still on someone standing in the doorway behind her. Hazel finally turned and caught another constable, this one a man of about twenty-eight, mouthing something to his commanding officer.
“What is going on here?” Hazel asked.
“I’m sorry,” said LeJeune, waving the man away, “it’s just that we’re planning a small party for Constable Bellecourt here –”
“I’m getting married.”
“Congratulations,” Hazel muttered.
“We won’t be disturbed again.”
“It’s fine, I understand.”
“Let’s get back to the matter. So, it
wasn’t
an insect sting that killed Henry Wiest. And you need to reopen the case. I understand that now. You will have our full cooperation.”
“Thank you,” said Hazel after a moment spent digesting the strange aura of honesty and warmth in the room. These people needed to be 40 per cent more cynical than they were. She turned to Bellecourt and tried to act gracious. “Honestly, my heartiest congratulations, Constable.”
“Are you married, Detective Inspector?” Bellecourt asked.
“Not anymore,” she said, and the glow in the constable’s face guttered slightly. “Look, if you really want to help me, make me an introduction to your pathologist.”
“Of course,” said LeJeune. “I’ll have Lydia tell Dr. Brett you’re on your way over.”
“And then I want to poke around a bit.”
“Would you object to a chaperone?”
“You mean a carefully guided tour.”
“You may want to go into the casino,” Bellecourt said.
“Do you think I should?” she asked. “What’s it like in there?”
“Well, if you’re going to poke around, you might as well have a look in there. Lots of people in the casino. But if I accompany you, I can smooth the way, you being in nonreserve uniform and all. Or are you going to go plainclothes?”
“I’ll go see your doc first,” Hazel said. “And sure, you can meet me at the casino in half an hour, Constable Bellecourt. I suppose I might as well have a gander.”
“You could meet Lee,” she said.
“Lee?”
“Her fiancé,” said LeJeune.
“As long as I don’t have to witness too much joy.”
“Lee’s the manager of the casino,” LeJeune continued. “You’d probably want to make his acquaintance anyway. Maybe you can stand a few feet back, Constable, to cool your ardour.”
That was agreeable to Bellecourt, and Commander LeJeune placed a call to the hospital and arranged Hazel’s visit. She gave her a map of the reserve and circled the hospital. “It’s a two-minute drive,” she said.
“I’ll walk it.” Hazel took the map and rose and the other two women stood and watched her out. She felt eyes on her as she retraced her steps to the front of the detachment and left the building.
It was still more than twenty degrees outside and the sun hadn’t set. It was Wednesday night, but cars were streaming into the front parking lots of the casino just down the road to her left.
The main road – which was called Queesik Bay Road locally but was officially RR26 – ran directly in front of the building and she turned right, following the map. The hospital was visible from where she was, a large, low building with a roadside post topped by a large H. Church Bay Road, the one that ran behind the casino, met RR26 just before it. She got to the hospital in tenminutes and got directions