James Carol - The Quiet Man

‘Well, you better believe it.’ Winter held up his hand with the palm facing toward her. She looked at it, then looked at him.

‘Come on, Anderton. Give me some skin. You know you want to.’

She hesitated a second longer then high fived him. The sound reverberated around the small room.

Winter grinned. ‘Yeah, that’s what I’m talking about.’

The incident room was buzzing when they got there. Anderton had phoned ahead and every person who could be spared was working to find whatever they could about William Wood. Identifying the killer was one of those pivotal moments when everything changed. There was before and there was after, and now that they’d reached this moment it was impossible to go back. Even if they wanted to, they couldn’t. Time moved in one direction, and that was resolutely forward.

What had William Wood been up to for the last twenty-four years? That was the big question. Twenty-four years was a huge chunk of time. It was almost a quarter of a century. Winter had Googled the name on the way here. The only hit he got with a Vancouver connection was for a twenty-year-old college kid who liked alternative rock and Jackass -style humour. He tried Bill Wood next, in case he’d shortened his name. Then Will Wood. Neither variation came up with anything worth pursuing.

Freeman was at the front of the room, marshalling his troops and acting important. They walked over and waited their turn. The evidence board behind Freeman had been cleared of photographs. WILLIAM WOOD was written at the top in large, neat capitals. Freeman dismissed the detective he was talking to and turned to Anderton.

‘I want to be there when you arrest this guy,’ she said.

‘Good to see you, too.’

‘I’m serious.’

‘I thought you said you weren’t bothered about that.’

‘I changed my mind.’

Freeman sighed. ‘Don’t you think you’re jumping the gun here? It’s a little early to be talking about arrests.’

‘No it’s not. Knowing the killer’s name is as good as having him in custody. I know that and you know that.’

‘I’ve got to admire your optimism, Laura.’

‘Please don’t patronise me, Peter.’

The words had barbs but the delivery was as pleasant as if they’d been talking about the weather. If they’d been shouting, everyone in the room would be looking at them. As it was, Winter was the only person paying them any attention.

Freeman glanced at Winter, then looked back at Anderton. ‘I can assure you that was never my intention.’

‘I should be there.’

‘No, you shouldn’t. Arrests can be highly volatile situations, not to mention dangerous. Given that you’re a member of the public, it would be irresponsible of me to put you in harm’s way.’

‘Bullshit. I’ve got ten years on you, Peter. Do you have any idea how many arrests I’ve been involved with? And guess what? I’m still standing.’

‘Even so, the answer is still no.’

Anderton stared for a second, then changed tack. ‘How far have you got with investigating William Wood?’

‘We’re making progress.’

‘What sort of progress?’

Freeman said nothing.

‘This is the point where I’m going to remind you that you wouldn’t be making any progress at all if it wasn’t for us.’

‘That’s not the way I see it. We would have got to William Wood.’

‘But would you have got there by next August 5? Or the August 5 after that? In other words, how many more people were going to have to die?’

‘Despite what you might believe, we’re not completely incompetent.’

‘You think I don’t know that? Last year, most of the people in this room were working for me. I know exactly what they’re capable of.’ She paused, the silence stretching and warping. ‘The fact that we’ve come up with William Wood’s name proves that we have something useful to add to this investigation.’

‘And I thank you for your contribution.’

‘I don’t want your thanks, I just want you to keep us in the loop. Share what you discover. What have you got to lose? Best-case scenario, we might just come up with something that helps you nail this guy sooner rather than later.’

Winter was watching from the sideline. They were fast approaching that point where they’d start going back and forth over the same old ground. It was that sort of argument. The tone was still pleasant enough, though, both of them talking like they were discussing the sunshine and the rain.

He wandered over to a nearby evidence board and made out like he was suddenly fascinated by something posted there. For a while he studied the photographs on the boards and read the notes, slowly working clockwise around the room. Most of the photographs he’d seen before, and the notes didn’t really add anything to his understanding of the case. He tuned out Anderton and Freeman and tuned in to what was happening in the rest of the room. Random snippets of conversation filtered through the noise. Some were one-sided because the detective doing the talking was on the telephone. Others were reciprocal, information being swapped, ideas and theories being aired.

They were chasing William Wood through time, and starting to make progress. From what Winter could gather they’d covered his teenage years and were now trying to find out what he’d been up to in adulthood. Chase that one hard enough and it would eventually lead them to where he was today. At least, that was the theory. William had gone into care after his mom died, first to an orphanage then to a foster family. Nathaniel’s parents were both dead. Gemma’s mother was suffering from early-onset Alzheimer’s, so going to live there wasn’t an option. There were no other living relatives, which was why he’d ended up in the care system, fostered by a couple named Gifford.

Winter tuned back in to what was happening with Anderton and Freeman. Anderton was still going for it but seemed to be running out of steam. He walked over to where they were standing.

‘You know,’ he said to Freeman. ‘Co-operation is a two-way street. We could have kept William Wood’s name to ourselves, but we didn’t. And the reason we didn’t was because we realised that more ground would be covered if we shared. You’ve got the resources of the whole of the Vancouver PD at your disposal. We don’t.’

‘It’s good that you recognise that.’

‘Just stating facts. Okay, here’s a question for you to mull over. The next time we get a breakthrough, do you think we’re going to be in a hurry to share? And if that breakthrough leads to the killer’s door, how is that going to reflect on you?’ He locked eyes with Freeman, waited for him to look away first, then turned to Anderton. ‘Time to get out of here. Places to go, people to see.’

He started walking to the door. Anderton caught up within a couple of strides.

‘Nice performance,’ he whispered to her.

‘Thank you,’ she whispered back. ‘So, did you get anything?’

‘Yeah, I got another name.’

They didn’t say anything else until they reached the car. Every person they passed was either an enemy or a spy. Cops and civilians alike. Once you’d slipped into that cloak-and-dagger mindset it was hard to get out of it again. Winter climbed in and fastened his seatbelt. Anderton climbed into the driver’s seat and fastened hers. She turned to face him.

‘You said you had another name.’

‘William Gifford. After his parents died, William went into foster care. He was never adopted, but my guess is that he started using his foster family’s surname. We know he didn’t go back to using the name Wood.’

‘Because there were no photographs of him on the boards in the investigation room.’