Read Online Seaweed in the Soup by Stanley Evans - Free Book Online Page B

that my suspension is only temporary. I want you to know that I love my job and that I’d hate to lose it.”
    Bernie shook his head. “Yeah, I suppose you would,” he said unsympathetically. “How long have you been with us, Ricketts?”
    â€œSix months, sir.”
    â€œFor some guys, policing is a soft option. Sit on your ass for 25 years. Then retire with a nice big package. Cultivate dahlias and rent yourself out on weekends to concert promoters.”
    Ricketts straightened even more and swallowed, his Adam’s apple jerking.
    Bernie went on gruffly, “This is a routine matter. A question-and-answer session to clear up some loose ends. It is all part of a murder inquiry that the department is pursuing. It is not, repeat not, a disciplinary hearing. All the same, Ricketts, if you feel threatened or uncomfortable you’re entitled to have a union rep present, or a lawyer.”
    â€œI don’t want either, at the moment.”
    â€œDo you have any objection to this session being taped?”
    â€œNo, sir.”
    â€œLet me know if you change your mind, okay?”
    â€œOkay, sir.”
    Bernie looked at me.
    I got up from my chair, went across to the filing cabinet where Bernie keeps a battery-powered recorder ready and took it to the desk. I turned the recorder on and sat down again.
    Bernie shut his eyes for a long moment. Opening his eyes, he pointed a finger at Ricketts and said, “This is serious stuff, Constable. I want to go step by step through a few incidents and I want the truth. No bullshit and no omissions. The whole truth and nothing else, okay?”
    â€œI will cooperate in every way, sir.”
    â€œGood. All right. You and Constable Bradley were in a police cruiser on routine patrol. Somebody called headquarters and reported seeing a couple of suspicious characters on Collins Lane. Correct?”
    Flustered initially by Bernie’s severe tone and manner, Ricketts said, “Yes, sir. When the dispatcher radioed the call, we were on Haultain Street.”
    â€œWho is ‘we’?”
    â€œMe and Constable Bradley.”
    â€œYou responded immediately, you told us. What time was that, Constable?”
    Ricketts reached into one of his pockets. Bernie stopped him by saying, “Don’t consult your notes. I want you to answer my questions from memory.”
    â€œIt was between eight-thirty and nine in the morning when we got the dispatcher’s call. Maybe twenty minutes before nine. We were told to be on the lookout for two First Nations women. A pair of alleged suspicious prowlers.”
    â€œWhat happened next?”
    â€œWe were heading west on Haultain at the time. I did a U-turn and we ended up on Richmond Road. We winkled our way onto Echo Bay Road and spotted two women standing near a bus stop. They answered the descriptions we’d been given. When I stopped the car, the women fled into the bush.”
    â€œFine, you’re doing okay, Ricketts. Then what?”
    â€œWe gave chase, but it was hopeless from the start. The bush is so thick along there you can’t see twenty feet ahead. It was broad daylight on the road, but in some places underneath those trees it was dark enough for a Maglite. We never saw either woman again. Constable Bradley and I figured our chances of catching them were minimal. He decided to return to the car while I continued the chase.”
    With rising confidence, Ricketts went on, “At that time, of course, we didn’t know there’d been a murder. We thought the women were at worst just a couple of suspicious prowlers. As Bradley pointed out, what were we going to do even if we did catch up with them? Deliver a stern warning?”
    â€œTrue enough, that’s a very good point,” Bernie said formally, as if that thought had never occurred to him. “You couldn’t have known that those two women would become the prime suspects in a particularly vicious murder