Kathy Reichs - Bones Are Forever

TWO P.M. TUESDAY. OUT MY WINDOW, THE SUN WAS A HARD white ball in a perfect blue sky. The bay looked glassy and still.

Between the koi-pond plunge, my gritty cart ride, and ricocheting fragments from Fast’s bullet, my face resembled postwar Dresden. And I ached in places I didn’t know I had.

Nevertheless, my mood was upbeat. I was packing to go home.

Sunday night’s abduction had left me with abrasions and a possible concussion. The latter had mandated twenty-four hours of hospitalization.

While under observation, hooked to IVs and very cranky, I’d gotten the story piecemeal. Mostly from Ryan.

One heroine in the tale was Nora, the conspiratorial desk clerk. Through the hotel’s front entrance, Nora saw a man flatten me against a truck and yank my purse from my shoulder. Thinking she was witnessing a mugging, and still in Dick Tracy mode, she’d noted the license and phoned the cops.

When the plate came back registered to Horace Tyne, someone told Rainwater. Rainwater told Ryan.

During one of their long stretches together, Itchy and Scratchy had discussed my double-motivation theory, decided it had merit. Figured I could be in danger.

About the same time Nora was dropping her dime, Ollie contacted G Division. He’d also considered the possibility that I might be right. And therefore in danger.

I have to admit, these guys moved fast. Rainwater contacted Corporal Schultz out in Behchoko. He checked Tyne’s house, reported no truck in the drive.

Ryan remembered Tyne’s part-time job as a security guard at the Giant gold mine. Rainwater remembered the barrels of arsenic being stored underground. Both agreed that sounded bad. Told Ollie.

Ollie commandeered a rental car and sped from the airport. Ryan snagged a ride from Chalker and raced from headquarters.

The trio converged on Giant simultaneously. Just as Tyne was returning to the shaft with a crowbar and a Remington 700 bolt-action rifle.

The locomotive that ran me over was Chalker. He knocked me clear so Ollie could get off a shot at Fast. Turned out the guy was solid all along. Just doing his job as a cop and as a member of Snook’s exceedingly extended family.

Two ambulances hit Stanton Territorial at the same time. Fast remained there. Tyne was in a cell at G Division.

And I was at the Explorer, throwing panties and socks into my roll-aboard. I’d called Constable Chalker to thank him for throwing himself into the line of fire to shove me out of the way. He’d said I was welcome.

I was collecting toiletries from the bathroom when I heard a knock. Thinking it was Ryan, I hurried to the door.

Ollie stood in the hallway, a Whitman’s sampler in one hand. “Didn’t think flowers would travel well.” He proffered his gift. “Not Godiva, but selection here sucks.”

“Chocolate is always good.” I took the box.

“You doing OK?”

“I am.”

“You look like someone pulled your life support.”

“Thanks.”

Ollie glanced past me into the room.

“Would you like to come in?” I stepped back.

Ollie entered and dropped into a chair.

“Did you find out how Scar got to Yellowknife so fast?” Not important. But the detail had been bugging me.

“Got a buddy’s who’s a bush pilot. The guy flew him up.”

“What’s happening with Unka?” I asked.

“Stick in the fork. He’s done.”

“Fast?”

“Lost a chunk of one shoulder, but he’ll survive.”

“Is he lucid yet?”

“Oh, yeah. He and Tyne are in a sprint to see who can give it up faster.”

“They’ve turned on each other?”

“The boys are looking to deal. Got to hand it to you, Tempe. You were spot-on. Ruben had nothing to do with the drug hits.”

“What are Fast and Tyne saying?”

“It seems originally, no killings were planned. They were just going to defraud McLeod’s kids out of their mineral rights with the ‘save the caribou’ scam. Snook would donate willingly, and Beck could be induced to do it during one of his drug or alcohol blackouts. The bigger problem was Ruben. Since she wasn’t mentally competent to sign over anything, she had to disappear long enough to be declared dead so her interest would pass to the other two.

“The plan ran off track when this Skipper dude showed up to whine to the review board. He discovered that one of the things Tyne was doing was collecting land claims. He confronted Tyne, and they came to blows. Skipper apparently learned that Beck was one of the people who’d been approached and went to see him. Someone followed, shot him and Beck, then torched the house. Bad crime scene work failed to reveal either a shooting or two vics.”

“But things were back on track.”

Ollie nodded. “Fast and Tyne simply had to wait out the remaining time to have Ruben declared dead, then get the mineral claims from Snook. When Ruben showed up in Yellowknife, they had to make her disappear again. And they were worried about what she could tell you.”

Again the guilt that arises when my inquiries lead to someone being killed. I pushed it aside.

“I still don’t get how they swept that scene so thoroughly.”

“The rain and scavengers did it for them. According to Tyne, after carrying Ruben to his truck, they gathered up what evidence they could see, scattered armfuls of needles, then boogied to turn Ruben into arsenic soup.”

“The morons thought arsenic would speed up decomp.”

“Won’t it?”

“From the Civil War until about 1910, arsenic was the main ingredient in embalming fluids used in North America. The stuff actually preserves tissue by killing the microorganisms that cause putrefaction. It fell out of favor because it’s so toxic. And persistent. Elemental arsenic will never degrade into harmless by-products.”

“Thus the gonzo cleanup at Giant.”

“Exactly. That mine contains over two hundred thousand tons of arsenic trioxide, a dust produced during the gold-roasting process.”

“Bad news.”

“Very. The dust is water-soluble and approximately sixty percent arsenic. The reclamation process involves permanently freezing it in storage chambers.” I’d read that while under medical house arrest.

“What’s that costing us poor taxpayers?”

“Somewhere north of four hundred million. Tyne and Fast planned to get their money’s worth by stuffing Ruben and me into barrels and stashing us in one of the cooling chambers.”

“That’s cold.”

“You’re hilarious.” I rolled my eyes. It did not feel good. “Do you know what the glitch was down in the mine?”

“You’ll love this. The dolts forgot to get a key to open your barrel.”

“Seriously?”

Ollie nodded.

“Here’s something that bothers me,” I said. “Snook’s house was under surveillance. How did Ruben slip out that night without being seen?”

“Rainwater was bouncing the unit between Ragged Ass, Unka, and Castain.”

I thought a moment. “Did Fast say why he came west now?”

“Remember the news article about Ruben’s string of dead babies?”

White. The journalist who’d phoned the ME in Edmonton. Who’d gotten his tip from Aurora Devereaux.

I nodded.

“Fast read the story and phoned Tyne in an uproar just as Tyne was about to call him. When Tyne said Ruben was back in Yellowknife, Fast saw the plan going off track again.”

“Whose brainchild was it in the first place?”

“Fast claims the con was Tyne’s idea. Says he wouldn’t have come aboard if he thought anyone would get hurt.”

“Mr. Tyne gives a different version.”