Jack took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I’m sorry, but I lied. We are both RCMP officers. I know you tried to protect your brother by lying to one of our members a couple of months ago, so I lied, too.”

Gunnar stared blandly at Jack as he tried to contemplate the logic of the situation. When he spoke, his voice became a whisper. He pointed to the picture and said, “You finally arrested him. You want John-Wayne to testify … he won’t. He won’t talk about it to anyone. Not even me … and I was there.”

Jack and Laura exchanged a glance. Gunnar thought Father Brown was still alive.

“Please, say you can’t find him,” pleaded Gunnar. “My brother has lots of problems. He can’t sleep … he quit drinking four months ago. This will make him start again.”

“Tell me about Evil Eye,” replied Jack.

Gunnar leaned back against the front of the car. His eyes brimmed over and he wiped his face with his hand, leaving a black streak of grease down his cheek. He breathed heavily for a moment and his eyes drifted off into space. Finally he spoke.

“All us kids had to play basketball in a gym. We all had numbers on our shirts. I was about seven and stayed close to John-Wayne because he was my big brother. All you could hear was the sound of the ball bouncing and kids’ feet movin’. Every day Evil Eye would come out from the office above and stand on a balcony and watch us. He would call out a number and the kid with that number had to go up to his office. One day he called mine and John-Wayne traded shirts with me. I never did have to go up there, but we all knew what Evil Eye was doing.”

“We need to talk to your brother alone,” said Jack.

“He won’t talk about it. He’s too ashamed.”

“That’s too bad. I think he’s a hero,” replied Jack.

“He’s my hero.”

“Let us talk to him alone,” replied Jack. “Maybe we can work something out.”

“You know what was real bad?” said Gunnar as Jack and Laura turned to leave.

Jack and Laura shook their heads.

“After Evil Eye called a number, all the rest of us kids were real happy and laughed and played. That still bothers me.”

“Because you knew you were safe for another day,” said Jack.

Gunnar nodded.

Jack and Laura followed a path behind the house that was bordered by wildflowers. The sun was shining and it was a beautiful day. Too beautiful, thought Jack, to be going to jail. He stopped and placed a hand on Laura’s shoulders.

“What is it?” she asked.

“We can’t do this,” he replied.

“You son of a bitch.”

Jack’s mouth gaped open. He could not remember the last time he ever heard Laura swear, let alone at him. “You’re angry with me because —”

“Damn right I’m angry with you. Angry that you would even have to ask me.”

They found John-Wayne alone in a shed. He was sitting on a wooden stool, carving a wooden mask that he held between his knees. He looked up when they came in and said, “You want to buy a mask … or are you from the government?”

“We’re with the RCMP,” said Jack. “We’re here because of this guy,” he added, holding out the picture of Father Brown for John-Wayne to take.

John-Wayne refused to take the picture in his hand. Instead, he slowly put the mask and the carving tools on the ground and stood up. His face showed no emotion. “I wondered when you would come for me,” he said, holding his wrists straight out in front of him so he could be handcuffed.

“We’re not handcuffing you,” said Jack. “Put your arms down.”

John-Wayne slowly lowered his arms and said, “I don’t care that I gotta go to jail. I’d smash his head again if I could.”

Jack remembered that Connie had some hold-back evidence. He looked at John-Wayne and asked, “What else did you do to him?”

“I killed him.”

“I know, but besides hitting him with a cement block, what else did you do?”

John-Wayne stood quietly for a moment and shook his head. “I used to drink. Hard to remember.”

“You did something besides hit him on the head,” said Jack. “Close your eyes. Try to remember. What sounds did you hear? Maybe a smell or the feel of something …”

John-Wayne closed his eyes briefly and said, “I stomped him after.”

“Stomped him?” asked Jack.

John-Wayne turned slightly so Laura couldn’t see and pointed to his crotch. “Down there,” he said. “I stomped him a bunch.”

“Did you ever tell anyone about what Father Brown did to you?” asked Laura.

John-Wayne shook his head.

“Or what you did to Father Brown?” asked Jack.

“No. I don’t want to talk about it with nobody.”

Jack looked at Laura and she gave a slight nod of approval.

“There is something I need to tell you,” said Jack. “Please listen carefully. There is no evidence to prove what you did. Possibly a hair, but that could have been blown into the yard or left there by you some other time.”

“But I told you,” said John-Wayne, sounding matter-of-fact. There was no anger or emotion in his voice. He looked at Jack, once more raised his wrists and said simply, “I know you will make me pay for what I have done.”

Pay? You have suffered in silence all these years … you have already paid and will no doubt keep on paying. Jack cleared his throat and said, “I’m sorry, I haven’t been able to hear a word you said so far. How about you, Laura?”

“What did you say?” she asked, cupping a hand to her ear. “I can’t hear a thing. It must be the wind.”

Jack looked at John-Wayne and in a loud voice said, “The person in the photograph we showed you was murdered near an alley that you used to frequent. We came to ask you if you saw or know anything that would help our investigation.”

John-Wayne looked confused.

“Did you watch someone attack Father Brown?”

“No.”

“Thank you.”

“That I heard,” added Laura, dutifully making an entry into her notebook.

John-Wayne slowly lowered his arms. Jack put a hand on his shoulders and said, “Good luck with your life. I think you’re on the right path, but what the hell do I know, I’m white.”

On the drive back to Victoria, Laura turned to Jack and said, “What are we going to do about Noah? He could end up like John-Wayne.”

“I’m going to talk to Victim Services to start with. I don’t need to say anything about John-Wayne. With Father Brown being at Kuper Island and the symptoms that Noah is exhibiting, I think it will be self-evident.”

“Noah may clam up and deny everything.”

“We can be pretty sure that the girly magazines that Gabriel found under his mattress were given to him by Father Brown. If Noah needs prompting, I will tell him that we found Father Brown’s fingerprints all through the magazines. Noah is emotionally distraught. He will open up.”

“And if Connie finds out? What then? She might piece it together like you did.”

“I’ll tell Connie that I suspect Father Brown of being a pedophile because of Noah’s behaviour. It won’t matter. She will still think Cocktail is the murderer, especially after my next phone call to her.”

Jack and Laura went to Amanda’s parents’ house, arriving at the same time she did. She introduced them to her parents, after which Jack said, “Is there someplace we could talk in private?”

Moments later, Jack, Laura, and Amanda were alone in a spare bedroom that had been turned into an office.

“Where are you working?” asked Laura.

“I volunteer to read aloud at a senior’s lodge,” said Amanda.

“The opposite end of the spectrum from teaching childen,” replied Laura.

Amanda pursed her lips and said, “Not really. A lot of the seniors behave like children.” She looked at Jack and said, “You wanted to speak to me in private. What’s up?”