“Wait a minute,” Margaret said. “Why is this the first time I’m hearing about this?”
“I don’t know.” Hank slowly stirred his coffee. “It makes you think though.”
“Think about what?” Margaret asked. “What exactly are you imply-ing? You can’t go around saying things like this unless you know something.”
“Weren’t you reported missing?” he asked.
Margaret coughed. She put down her cigarette and took a swallow of coffee.
“When you were kids up by Echo Valley,” Hank continued. “There was a police report. A bunch of you were drinking and playing strip poker.”
Margaret leaned over the counter.
“Exactly,” she interrupted, “what are you up to?” Purgatory
“What about this heat, Sam?” Jack asked as he polished glasses and placed them on a shelf behind the bar.
Detective Kelly smiled. He finished his beer. Jack brought him a second.
“Goes right through you, eh?” Jack said with a laugh. “What’s this I hear about the gang of police dining over at the Canadiana this morning?”
“The Mackenzie place,” the detective responded.
Jack stopped polishing the glass in his hand.
“We got a warrant to look the place over. I did some more spade work on Mrs. Mackenzie’s disappearance. She made a complaint about Joe the previous year. She said that he had threatened her life.” Jack’s mouth fell open.
“You hear stuff like this when there are domestic problems. But Joe’s mother also disappeared shortly after she complained about Joe’s father.
He used to beat her.”
“I never heard that before,” Jack said, his mouth still hanging. “You think the father and the son committed…”
“Did you ever hear what happened to Joe’s father?” the detective asked.
Jack shook his head.
“Neither has anyone else. I checked out all the local graveyards and there are no records of a James Mackenzie. Nor can we find any trace of Joe’s brothers or sisters.”
“Maybe they just moved on.”
“Maybe. There were a lot of people who moved around before and after the war looking for work. Most of the people who lived in the area at the time are dead so it’s been difficult to come up with much evidence.
I’ve talked to a retired cop but his memory is pretty suspect. And then there’s the hole in Joe’s backyard.”
Jack put the glass in his hand back on the bar.
“You think old Joe dropped them down that hole?”
“We’re bringing in some heavy equipment tomorrow. I don’t know what we’ll find. If we don’t find something, I’ve got some explaining to do with my boss. You know about the big fight Joe had with hydro. He threatened some people from the government when they came on his property. Fired a gun over their heads. Charges were never filed. Hydro wanted to make a deal with Joe. They didn’t want people thinking that they were bullying him. A lot of people have disappeared over the years in this area and Joe is the only constant. Everything points his way. And then there’s that hole-”
“Jesus!” Jack cried. “Old Joe. You like him.”
“He’s an odd fellow but ya, I like him. And that other matter we discussed before-”
“The guy dying on the corner? You think Joe had something to do with that as well?”
The detective shook his head.
“No, I think Joe’s clear on that one. But I’ve talked to someone who fits the description of the fellow who came in here. You have to add a few years on him, but he sure fits the bill. He denies knowing anything but I took it for granted that he was lying.”
“You said you had to add some years. This happened a couple of weeks ago, Sam.”
The detective nodded, then cradled his forehead in the palm of his hand.
“I can’t explain that. I’ve been looking over old records and there are several other incidents that are baffling. I have a college kid who disappeared over thirty years ago. And recently I have a salesman who has gone AWOL. The more I dig, the more bodies I find.”
“No shit!” Jack exclaimed.
The detective ran his fingers through his hair. “Do you believe in purgatory, Jack?”
“Purgatory?” Jack asked.
“Where the souls of the dead have to repent until they are allowed into heaven.”
“Sounds like jail,” Jack replied.
The detective finished his beer.
“All the cases I’m studying are filled with these odd coincidences.
Detectives are supposed to look for coincidences. You join all the dots together and things make sense. But none of this makes sense. Maybe life is purgatory.”
Jack asked the detective if he wanted another beer. Sam shook his head.
“I have to get up early tomorrow. We’re going to lower a cable into the hole. Do you know Margaret over at the Canadiana? Did you know that when she was a kid, a teenager, she was reported missing?” Jack shook his head.
“I talked to her about it. Her and some friends were out back of the Mackenzie house. They were drinking and horsing around, teenage stuff. I guess she got pretty drunk. She wandered off from the group.
When the other kids woke up from their drunken stupors, they panicked when they couldn’t find her. They went to her house, searched the neighborhood, finally reported her missing to the police. Margaret told me she woke up in a bed in the Mackenzie house. Old Joe had found her passed out on his lawn and put her up, then went to work. The next morning Margaret woke up to the sound of voices in the house. Of course, she had no idea where she was. She snuck downstairs toward the kitchen, toward the source of the voices. When she stepped inside the kitchen, the voices stopped. The room was empty.” Jack’s mouth dropped open, but then he laughed. “You’re jerking my chain.”
The detective did not smile.
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
“I can’t believe it,” Margaret said, leaning against the counter, a cigarette dangling out of her lips. “And to think that I once slept in that house. Sends shivers down your spine.”
Mary stirred her coffee, her other hand holding a cigarette. “God, I forgot all about that. You woke up in June’s bed. That should be good for a lifetime of nightmares. I might look into professional counseling, dear.
Hell, we’ll all need counseling long after this is over. To think that we’ve had a murderer living in our midst all these years, and we never suspected a thing. Makes your skin crawl. Poor June. We all assumed she ran off on Joe. Hell, I thought her and Bill had been messing around. The hatred and spite I hurled at her. Do you think I can ever forgive myself?
You don’t think Bill could be…?”
Margaret shrugged. “They’ve spotted a lot of bodies down there, Mary. Maybe Bill was among them. You can’t let yourself dwell on it.” A tear ran down Mary’s cheek. Margaret took a tissue box from beneath the counter and handed it to Mary. Mary stubbed out her cigarette and took a tissue.
“I’m never going to get over this,” Mary sniffled, dabbing at the tears that streaked her cheek. “I just can’t.”
“It’s so gruesome,” Margaret said, a series of smoke rings swirling out of her lips. “Sam thinks it’ll take weeks to dig up everything. Pretty dangerous work down there. They’re not even sure if they’re at the bottom of that hole. Think the stuff is just jammed in, that it might cave in at any moment. People have been dumping garbage down that hole ever since I can remember. When you think back to all of the people that have disappeared in this area, it gives you pause. Remember that Gallagher girl, the one who lived over on Prennan? She was a grade behind us at school.”
“Didn’t they blame that on an uncle?” Mary asked, taking a second tissue and blowing her nose. “God, we said prayers for her every day for weeks. Her uncle tried to run, didn’t he? I think they caught him in Vancouver. Never heard what happened to him after they sent him to prison.”