owner of the land. He knows that we can find out whose name the deeds are now registered in. I obtained that information yesterday from the town clerk. The name on the deeds is Michael Astrinsky. But if Astrinsky forces the real owner to register the deeds, then Astrinsky is cleared, not all the way but part of the way. His behavior is still suspicious. He may not be the killer, but maybe he's working with the killer.'
'We know where Astrinsky is, sheriff. If you like I can go to Boston, or the sergeant can go. The sergeant has some experience in following people. He can shave off his mustache and wear different clothes.'
'My mustache?' De Gier asked.
'Why not, sergeant. Your trip was financed by the exchange fund. Shaving your mustache off would be a way to show your appreciation for the fund.'
The sheriff stared at the wall. He got up, and felt a knot in the paneling.
'What do you think, sheriff?'
'It would be a long shot, sir. Astrinsky has probably seen the third party already. But perhaps he'll see him again. I don't want to waste your or the sergeant's time.'
The commissaris got up too. 'You can think about it, sheriff. I confess that I didn't want to get into this case at first, but its many aspects have been changing my mind. I'm certainly quite willing now. And the sergeant has his duty to consider, and the police fund that has been financed by taxpayers' money. Your taxpayers and ours. Let's be off, sergeant. Madelin will be waiting for us. Perhaps we can find that unfortunate lady's boat.'
The sheriff hadn't been listening. 'You mentioned that your sister had given you some information, sir.'
'Ah yes. It may be nothing, but there is a lie involved, so it could possibly be of interest. When the sergeant and I had drinks at the Wash mansion, Mrs. Wash told us that Reggie had overturned her station wagon some time ago. But my sister tells a different story altogether. She claims that she was in her garden when she saw Jeremy coming ashore, accompanied by a dog. At about the same time she saw the Wash station wagon driving along with Janet Wash at the wheel. She didn't see anybody else in the car. The trees obscured her view, but she heard a commotion and went to the end of her garden to get a better look. There had been an accident. I asked Suzanne to take me to the exact place from where she had seen the accident and she also walked me to the spot where the event took place. There's some considerable distance so she can't have had a really close look, and as I said, mere are a lot of trees in the way. What happened was that the wagon slipped and careened off the road. It turned over several times until it was stopped by some alders. Suzanne did see that Jeremy ran to the wreck and helped Janet to free herself. There seemed to be nothing wrong with Janet. And Suzanne, being what she is, remembered that she had a roast in the oven and returned to the safety of her home.'
The sheriff thought. 'I see, sir. I see the lie. Reggie wasn't involved. Right. But I don't see that the lie fits in with any of our possible theories. Perhaps Janet didn't want to admit to being a bad driver and blamed Reggie. Was Reggie present when Janet told you that he had wrecked the car?'
'Yes, sheriff.'
The sheriff scratched his chin. 'A strange relationship indeed.'
'Very,' the commissaris said brightly. 'Thank you for a truly marvelous breakfast, sheriff. I won't forget that lamb stew.'
The sheriff smiled. 'You're welcome, sir. Come again. Any time.'
12
The small plane dropped a few feet and steadied itself shakily. The commissaris smoked his cigar and watched the sea gulls, white specks above the open ocean. De Gier was studying the point of Cape Orca, approaching rapidly.
'Once more,' Madelin said. 'Monotonous, isn't it? Like ploughing a field. On and on, and back, and on and on.'
'No matter,' the commissaris said. 'I am enjoying it.' He looked back at the airplane's tail, a flimsy fin, probably made out of plastic. A toy plane, but it performed well.
De Gier pointed. 'That must be the fox and his friends.' They saw three black dots, busy with a tree in a white clearing. The flat motorboat had been anchored to the ice off the cape.
'And there's Janet,' Madelin said, pushing the small two-handled gadget that steered the plane. 'Behind the garage. And Reggie is splitting wood. She's supervising him I guess. Let's see what Jeremy is doing.' The plane banked and reached the bay.
'Marvelous,' the commissaris said. Madelin had pushed the throttle back and was circling. They saw Jeremy's house. It looked like a bird feeder. The bird was present too. It flew a hundred feet below the Cessna's wheels.
'He is playing with his dogs,' de Gier said. 'There they are, all three of them.'
The plane headed out toward the ocean. 'We can't go on for too long, gentlemen. There's more snow due. We've been at it for nearly two hours. I'm afraid the search is useless. Three dogs you said?'
'Yes, three.'
'There should be four of them.'
'Three,' the commissaris said. 'We saw only three when we were on the island.'
'There are four. Osiris and Isis, the parents, and Seth and Ra, the children. But you're right. Last time I was on the island I didn't see Osiris. Osiris is the best of them all. Jeremy always takes him when he goes to town. Shall we continue the search?'
The commissaris shook his head. 'No, we can't go on forever. Look, there's Suzanne's garden. I saw Suzanne too, but she just went back into the house. Would you do me a favor, Madelin?'
'Certainly.'
'The sergeant tells me that you buzzed Opdijk once when he was fishing off his shore. Would you mind repeating that performance?'
'You'll have to fasten your seat belt. You too, sergeant.' The latches clicked.
'Ready?'
The commissaris was rubbing his hands. He bit his cigar.
'Ready.'
The plane lost height rapidly and the Opdijk house and grounds grew. De Gier forced himself to keep his eyes open. The trees behind the cliffs rushed the small airplane. He saw the white bulge that was Opdijk's boat parked upside-down behind the cliffs. Then the engine roared and mere was nothing but pale blue sky and clouds.
The commissaris was laughing. 'Excellent. You must have given him the fright of his life. Thank you.' He turned around. 'How did you like that, sergeant?'
'Fine,' de Gier said and tried to smile. He had looked away as the plane shot up, convinced that they were about to hit the pines on the Opdijk grounds. But while his head was turned away in fear he had seen something.
'I think I saw an orange spot, sir. Over there, near those rocks with the broken pack ice around them.'
'Good,' Madelin said. The plane found the rocks. There was a definite orange spot. 'Could be the boat,' Madelin said. 'Could be something else. There are a lot of empty plastic containers floating about. I suppose the big factory vessels throw them out, the Japanese and Russian fishing fleets that rob our seas empty. They're soap containers I believe, and some of the floats the lobstermen use are orange. Let's check again. I'll fly as low and slow as I can.'
The commissaris and de Gier peered down. The orange spot, pushed up by the ice, was clearly visible. Madelin made the plane circle the rocks. 'Yes, I know Mary's boat. That should be it. Eleven feet long, bright orange. The current must have brought it back, but it took its time. But it's caught by the ice. The sheriff will have to get at it with a pick. Shall we go back now?'
'One more favor, Madelin. Please circle Jeremy's Island before you return to the town's airstrip. Would you do that?'
The commissaris giggled when they saw the raven take off and wheel up in defiance and the dogs running on the path between Jeremy's cabin and the shore on the cape's side. 'God must feel like this, high and comfortable, puffing on his cigar while the puny beings he created run about and get through their lives. Yes, a divine experience.
