Ice Lake: A gripping crime debut that keeps you guessing until the final page

At the treeline Cirba whispered, “This is the fun part. Watch.” He stepped into the clearing, reached into both of his pockets and produced a flashlight and a wallet. “POLICE,” he shouted, illuminating the badge with the light. “Everybody stay where they are.”

In a nanosecond two-thirds of the kids dropped their beers and disappeared into the forest. Cirba turned to Harry and shone the light on his face showing a huge grin.

One of the remaining teenagers who sported an orange hunting cap said: “Ow man, don’t you have anything better to do than bust up a little kegger?”

Cirba walked towards the youth and said: “Who said I was busting up your party? I just wanna talk.”

“You mean we can stay?” the kid asked.

“Are the drivers drinking?”

“No, we’re not stupid.”

“Then I got no problem. HEY,” Cirba shouted, “you in the woods. Come on back, I promise I won’t arrest you or take names or anything.”

Slowly the teenagers appeared out of the forest like elves in a fantasy movie but it wasn’t until Cirba asked if he and Harry could have a beer that the kids began to relax.

“A man was killed here this week,” Cirba said.

A kid with a backwards facing baseball cap said: “You don’t have to tell us; over there’s the guy that found him.”

Sitting alone on a log by the fire was a young man about 18. The light from the flames flickered on a face that had that vacant look Harry recognized as post-traumatic stress. If it wasn’t full blown PTSD then it was close to it. He’d seen the look before on the faces of people who had seen things too horrible to forget. Hell, he’d seen it in the mirror.

“How’s he doing?” Harry asked.

“He was freaked out by it. He was OK at first but he’s got weirder, and now he’s just holed up in his room. I convinced him to come out with us tonight but maybe it was a bad idea to bring him here.”

“You think?” Cirba said sarcastically.

“No no,” Harry said. “It wasn’t such a bad idea. Let me talk to him. What’s his name?”

The kid and cop simultaneously said: “Ryan.”

Harry walked over and pointed to a spot next to the boy. “Is this log taken?”

The boy looked up, confused, as if he hadn’t heard the question. “Huh?”

“Do you mind if I sit?” Harry asked.

“Oh, no.”

“You’re Ryan, right?”

“Yeah,” he replied like he wasn’t sure.

“I’m Harry Cull.”

Ryan looked over and saw Cirba talking to the other kids as if it was the first time he noticed. “That’s the cop I spoke to the other day. You a cop too?”

“Not really but I work with them. Can I get you a beer?”

“Na I’m OK.”

“Are you?”

Ryan didn’t answer.

“It’s all right not to be. I’ve had what happened to you happen to me.”

Ryan had his head down practically between his knees. He didn’t look up when he said: “You found a dead guy in the woods?”

“Well, not in the woods but, yes, I’ve found dead guys.”

That got the boy’s attention. “What did you do?”

“What did you do? Is more to the point.”

“I um… I told the other cop everything.”

“Yeah but now I’d like to hear what happened. Start at the beginning. What were you doing here?”

“I came to shoot. I was thinking of getting a deer license this year and… well, I’m not the best shot.”

“You had a gun with you?”

“Yeah.”

“What kind?”

“A .30-30.”

“How’d you get here?”

“I drove.”

“What car?” Harry asked to get him in the habit of naming the specifics. The more details Ryan recalled the better it would be for the investigation and for Ryan too.

“My… my mom’s Prius.”

“And you were alone?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you go anywhere before you came up here?”

“No, not with a gun in the car.”

“Sensible. So where did you park?”

“At the bottom, right in front of the footpath.”

Harry waited but Ryan wasn’t saying anything without prompting. “So then what?”

“I got out and got my gun and ammo outta the trunk and walked up to the range.”

“Did you load the gun?”

“No, sir, I walked with it pointing down and the bolt open just like Big Bill taught me.”

“Big Bill taught you to shoot?”

“Yeah, he used to take me shooting up here when I was a kid. He wasn’t supposed to, ya know? But he was always really careful about it. He was the guy that taught me my gun safety. If I ever started messing around when the guns were out – that was it – shooting was over.”

“So he was your friend?”

“He was… He was more like a big brother, ya know?” Ryan was having a hard time keeping it together. “I’m an only child. He was… he was good to me.”

“So you were walking up the path with your gun unloaded and then what?”

“He loved it here. He and the older kids used ta party up here all the time. He was the guy that told us about this place.”

Ryan was obviously trying to avoid speaking of what happened next. Harry let him go on.

“Sometimes he’d even get us beer. I wasn’t supposed to tell about that either. I guess it doesn’t matter anymore.”

There was a quiver in his voice. Harry needed to get him to the crux before he broke down altogether.

“So you were walking up the path…”

“And I saw him lying there.”

“And what did you do?”

“I called 911.”

“Did you try to revive him?”

“Look, I told the other cop all about it.”

“And now you need to tell me.”

“Why?” Ryan was shaking now.

“’Cause if you don’t… Just keep going, son.”

Ryan stood and said: “I’m not your son” and walked off into the woods.

Harry could feel he was almost there and pursued him.

“What did you do when you saw the body?”

“I told you: I called the cops.”

“What did you do before you called 911? Did you check Big Bill’s pulse to see if he was alive?”

Ryan turned back to Harry. The light was faint on his face. They were away from prying eyes and maybe that’s what Ryan needed. Even in the darkness Harry could see the boy’s face scrunch up in torment. When he spoke his voice came out like a child crying. “I didn’t even know it was Bill until the other cop told me. I went to look but half of his head was gone. It was like some horror movie.”

He was breaking down and reaching for someone to hold him but Harry stiff-armed him, keeping him away. He had to get to the next step.

“Then what did you do?”

“I don’t remember.”

“Yes, you do, tell me.”

“I… ran. I ran into the woods like a wimp. I found a big fir tree and I hid under it.”

That was it. Ryan was emotionally spent. Harry caught him as he slid to the leaf-covered ground and held him while he wept unabashedly. They stayed like that for a while until Ryan’s sobs became manageable.

Finally, Harry asked: “When did you call 911?”

“I hardly remember. I did it from under the tree. I hid there until I heard the sirens. Then walked out to the path to meet them. I didn’t want them to see me hiding.”

“So Ryan, you know what you did wrong?”

Ryan looked up and wiped his face with the bottom of his T-shirt. “You think I did something wrong?”

“No, I don’t. I think you did everything right, but you think you did something wrong. What do you think that is?”

“I shouldn’t’a run. I should’a looked around for the bastard that did it.”

“The person that shot Bill had a gun. What could you have done?”

“I had a gun too.”

“And you’re used to shooting people in the woods?”

“Well… no. But I shouldn’t have run.”

“Why not?” Harry said. “You saw the most horrible thing you have ever seen and you ran from it. Seems sensible to me. You did everything right. I’m amazed you even got around to calling 911 as fast as you did. Give yourself a break, kid. Stuff like this can haunt you, I know. Just because you ran away from danger doesn’t make you a coward – it makes you smart. This isn’t your fault and there was nothing you could have done about it.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

“Don’t you feel a little better now?”

Ryan stopped and took stock of himself for a moment. “Actually, I do.”

Ever since his interrogation days, Harry always carried a cheap handkerchief for just such an occasion. He gave it to Ryan. “Go ahead. Blow. It’s a gift. Can I give you a piece of advice, kid?”

Ryan nodded.

“Keeping this stuff inside is what screws with your brain. When people ask how you are, and you’re not good – say so. Tell them about how you saw your friend dead in the woods. And pretty soon you’ll be fine.”

“How do you know?”

Harry stood and brushed himself off. “’Cause where you are – I’ve been – and then some.” He reached down and helped Ryan to his feet. “Come on, have a beer. It’s time you started living again.”

As they walked back towards the fire Harry asked: “You know of anybody that would have wanted to hurt Big Bill?”

“No, that’s just it – he was real sweet. Everybody liked him. He loved it up here. Actually, last time I spoke to him he was pissed off about the fracking.”

“The what?” Harry asked.

“The fracking. Isn’t that how you found out about this party? That’s what this is all about. It’s to organize a ‘Stop the Fracking’ protest.”

“What, like drilling for natural gas?”

“Yeah, they want to do it right here.”

* * *

Back at the fire Harry refilled his cup and filled one for Ryan. Cirba turned down a second.

“Did you know about this fracking stuff?” Harry asked the cop.

“Well, I knew they were doing it out at the old stone quarry and, now that I have met this young woman, I know more than I ever thought possible.”

A young girl with blonde hair in braids, wearing a backwards cap, jumped in front of Harry. “You know they shoot sand and water into the ground, right? Well they add chemicals to that. You know what kind of chemicals they put in the ground?”

“Ah, no,” Harry said.

“Exactly,” she said almost jumping up and down. “Nobody knows; they don’t have to tell anybody.”

“I find that hard to believe,” Harry said.

“It’s true,” Ryan said. “The company that makes it says it’s a secret recipe. Like they’re Colonel Sanders or something.”

“And hydraulic fracking causes earthquakes,” the girl said, while bouncing in front of Harry, “and it’s illegal in France and Pittsburgh.”

“Wow,” Harry said, “who’d have thought that the French and the Pittsburghians would ever have anything in common?”

“Hey,” the girl said, poking Harry in the chest. “This isn’t funny.”

“I can see that.”

“So how did you find out they are going to do it here?” Harry asked.

“Big Bill told me the night before he died.”

“Where?”

“Right here. He stopped in on our party, had a beer, told us that the powers that be were trying to buy this land for fracking and we’d better enjoy it while it was still here.”

“What else did Bill say?”

“He said he was gonna try and stop it if he could, ’cause of what he saw at the Jeric farm.”

“Old man Jeric out near the stone quarry?” Cirba said.

“Yeah, Big Bill told me he did some work for Mr Jeric at harvest time this year, and he and Mrs Jeric were in a bad way because of all of the chemical crap coming out of the fracking site.”

“Anything else?”

“Na, but he was bummed about it. Said it was causing him strife.”

“So what are you kids gonna do?” Cirba asked.

“Protest, man,” the girl said, pumping her fist in the air. “We’re gonna stop it. I’ll tree-sit if I have to,” she announced.

“Well, keep it legal,” Cirba said.

“We’ll do what we have to do, man.”

“Yeah I guess you will. So did Big Bill say anything else?”

“No.”

“Did he seem upset?” Harry asked.

“No,” Ryan said. “He said that life was good.”

The old guys threw their cups into the fire. “Thanks for the beer,” Cirba said.

“You know,” Harry said, “if you are going to try and save this place you should start by cleaning it up. Nobody’s gonna want to save a dump.”

“We’re on it tomorrow,” the girl said but she seemed more enthusiastic about it than Ryan.

Harry patted Ryan on the shoulder. “Environmentalism is a bitch. You go easy on yourself, OK?”

Ryan shook his hand and then came in for a quick manly hug. “Thanks.”

* * *

“What did you and Ryan chat about in the woods there,” Cirba asked as they pulled out onto the Five Mile Road.

“Just a little emergency psychology. The boy is freaked. I just helped him off the ledge a little bit.”

“Did you learn anything new?”

“Nothing, except what you heard about Bill knowing about this fracking stuff. Did you know about it?”

“No, and how come Bill knew before me?” Cirba said in a faraway voice that denoted he was thinking. After a while he said: “You can sleep in tomorrow. I’m going to check with land registry in the morning and see who owns the Horseshoe.”

“On Saturday?”

“Hey, this is a murder investigation.”

* * *

Harry had a look over at MK’s house as he put the key in the lock to see if any lights were on. They weren’t and he sighed knowing that he wouldn’t have done anything if they were. Inside, he kicked off his shoes and made himself a cup of tea. Then, as always, he logged on to the FBI’s Lost and Found Child Database but couldn’t keep his eyes open even for that. He brushed his teeth, threw off his clothes and squeaked into bed. He was asleep instantly and dreamt he was back in the strip club. This time he got that private dance.

Chapter 7

Harry sat on the sofa, still wrapped in his quilt, and drank tea while staring out at the morning through the glass wall. Underneath a rising mist, Ice Lake was a mirror. Harry fantasized that it was a giant portal to another world, a world where this was his house and his son was sitting beside him snuggled up under the quilt… But he had learned long ago that thinking like that was the route to madness.

He used the quiet and the picturesque view to attempt a meditative state of mindlessness that one of his old hippy girlfriends had tried so hard to get him to obtain. Harry had only ever achieved leg cramps. Although he never got to the desired mindlessness, he often found that thinking about thinking cleared his mind and allowed him to organize the problem at hand. But he just didn’t have enough information about the problem of who killed Big Bill to even theorize anything.

Since it seemed like a sacrilege to allow the screech of a TV to disturb the calm, he slipped on a tracksuit and running shoes. With a circumference of just over a mile and a half, Ice Lake was a perfect morning jog. Harry decided on a counterclockwise route and even at this early hour he found himself nodding hello to half a dozen pedestrians, joggers, and dog walkers. At three-quarters of the way around Harry was looking for an excuse to rest and found it when he saw the bakery truck pulling out of old Todd’s Ice Lake Café.

* * *

This time old Todd was behind his counter to greet Harry – if not in the friendliest way.

“You still around?”

“I was lured by the scent of fresh donuts.”

“Yeah, happens all the time. I think they put the same addictive drugs in them that they put in cat food.”

Harry tossed a couple of bucks in the chamber pot and was surprised when Todd waited on him. He poured a cup of coffee and plopped a donut on a paper plate.

“So you’re a conspiracy theory fan?”

“I bought a bunch of that gourmet shit for my cat and now she won’t eat anything else.” Todd licked the glaze off his fingers. “I like a good theory if it fits.”

“Maybe she just has expensive tastes.”

“She’s a fucking cat.”

The donut was fresh and sticky. Harry, too, found himself licking his fingers. “So, Todd – you don’t mind me calling you Todd?”

“What else would you call me?”

“Right, so Todd, do you know anything about fracking going on around here?”

“Yeah, they’re doing it up at the old stone quarry.”

“You seen it?”

“Tried to but they got shitloads of security up there. They’re worried some hippy treehuggers will sabotage it. I hope they do.”

“Not a fracking fan?” Harry said.

“Something that causes earthquakes can’t be a good thing.”

“You think fracking causes earthquakes?”

“I fucking know so. Never had one here until that shit started. I’ve felt two since.”

“You sure it was an earthquake? There’s a train track nearby, could have been a heavy freight train.”

“I grew up in California, Philly boy. I know what a fucking tremor feels like.”

“Did you hear about them planning to open up a fracking well at the Horseshoe?”

Todd placed his coffee cup back on the counter harder than he meant to. “No. Where’d you hear that?”

“A hippy tree-hugger told me.”

The door of the store opened and Mayor Boyce walked in.

Todd saw him and said: “More bad news.”

“Hiya, Mr Cull, you enjoying the cottage?”

“Very much so, Mayor.”

“Please call me Charlie.” The mayor sat and placed two dollars in the chamber pot and helped himself to a coffee and a donut. Todd didn’t wait on this customer. “So what’s the other bad news, Todd?”

“Did you know about fracking up at the Horseshoe?”

If the mayor tried to hide his surprise at the question, he didn’t do it fast enough. “Where did you hear that?”

Todd pointed at Harry.

“Mr Cull, how did you hear about this?”

“Big Bill told some of the local kids the night before he was killed. You knew about it?”

“I can’t comment,” the mayor said.

“Confidentiality clause?” Harry asked.

“Something like that,” the mayor said.

“So are you the broker?”

“Again,” the mayor said, “I really can’t—”

“Of course he’s the fucking broker,” Todd interrupted. “Charlie here’d sell a blind man’s dog if it’d make him a buck.”

The mayor, who usually seemed amused by Todd’s animosity, shot the old man a look that could kill.

“Can you at least tell me who owns the land the Horseshoe is on?” Harry said.

Before the mayor could answer, Todd said: “Shit, I can tell you that for free. All that land was bought up by old man Thomson.”

“Big Bill’s father?”

“Grandfather,” Todd said.

The mayor stood. “I really must excuse myself from this conversation.” He picked up his donut and began to walk out of the store.

“You mean you have to call your oil company buddies and tell them that the cat’s out of the bag?” Todd called after him. When the door closed the old guy added, “Two-faced political corporate fuck puppet.”

“You know, Todd,” Harry said, “you really shouldn’t hold your feelings inside so much. You should say what you mean.”

Todd then did something that surprised Harry – he smiled, a perfect white-denture smile. “How about I fry us up some Spam sandwiches?” he said.

* * *

Harry walked back to the cottage. MK drove up behind him in her pickup truck. She was wearing her nurse’s uniform.

“Aren’t you supposed to be running if you are dressed like that?” she called from the driver’s window.

“Just had one of Todd’s McSpam sandwiches. Thought maybe running was a bad idea.”

“Wow, you got Todd to cook for you? He only does that for pretty girls. He must be sweet on you.”

“Yeah, but he’s not my type.”

“And what is your type, Mr Cull?”

“I like nurses.”

“And here is me thinking you liked strippers.”

“Only the ones dressed like nurses.”

“You boys find any of those last night?”

“Trooper Ed and I didn’t have much fun last night – trust me.”

“Yeah right.”

As she put her truck into gear Harry quickly asked: “Can I buy you clams at the Hillside tonight?”

MK crinkled her nose and said: “What day is it?”

“Saturday.”

“It’s chicken wing night.”

“Well, can I buy you some wings?”

She smiled, and Harry’s heart beat just a tad faster. “I’ll meet you there at seven.”

* * *

The lake was icy but the shock was quicker than the slow pain of the cold shower Harry felt he needed. He didn’t stay in long and was dressed and towelling his hair dry when Cirba walked into the house.

“Don’t you need a warrant to just barge in like that?”

“The Big Hat allows me to do anything.”

“I’m pretty sure that’s not true.” Harry poured two cups of tea from the pot and passed one over to the trooper.

“Don’t you have coffee?”

“Tea is the drink of kings.”

“Didn’t we fight a war to get rid of kings?”

“All is forgiven – didn’t you watch the royal wedding?”

Конец ознакомительного фрагмента.

Текст предоставлен ООО «ЛитРес».

Прочитайте эту книгу целиком, купив полную легальную версию на ЛитРес.

Безопасно оплатить книгу можно банковской картой Visa, MasterCard, Maestro, со счета мобильного телефона, с платежного терминала, в салоне МТС или Связной, через PayPal, WebMoney, Яндекс.Деньги, QIWI Кошелек, бонусными картами или другим удобным Вам способом.