“Made even more so when Erik Berglund sets up an archeological dig at the foot of the trail,” Len said, with a glance at Gabe. “Because Erik is bent on establishing a traditional Alaska Native trail leading from the beach up the hill and all the way over the bluff, that he is going to prove has been used ever since there have been Alaska Natives living in the Bay. Which would be, give or take, ten thousand years. You’ll have noticed the rocky spur that runs out of the cliff and down the beach. Makes kind of a natural harbor.”
“He gave me the tour,” Liam said.
“In the meantime,” Gabe said, looking a little clenched around the jaw, “the rich and famous Outsider has approached the Borough to vacate the trail right of way in exchange for putting in another, more accessible trail, at his own expense, on the right of way between this subdivision and the next one south of here, Mountain View. Another exemplar of originality in binomial nomenclature.”
This time Len rolled his eyes. “Forgive the kid. Every now and then he reads a book and wants to make sure everybody knows it.”
Liam’s eyes raised involuntarily to the bookshelf that covered the entirety of one wall, floor to ceiling. There were no empty spaces, and all the covers were worn. “So you were trying to vacate the right of way to the beach.”
“This one, yeah.” Gabe shifted uncomfortably. “There have been some incidents.”
“What the kid means and is too embarrassed to say is that fans today have no boundaries, women fans in particular.”
“What about the gate? Don’t you close it?”
“They climb over it. One of them took the trail down to the beach, walked down it a ways, climbed back up to the edge of the cliff—” Len nodded at the yard which ended at the cliff’s edge “—and came over the top, herself in the altogether. If she’d managed to pack a platter with her I reckon she would have served herself up on it.”
“You mean she was naked?”
“Yep. I’ll never understand why she didn’t leave her clothes on for the climb and just strip after she got to the top. She sure was scratched up in some interesting places. I have no objection to naked women, mind you, but that was not a sight you want to see over your first cup of coffee in the morning.”
“Jesus.”
“Yeah.”
Liam digested this in silence for a moment. “So your plan was to vacate the right of way—”
“There is no right of way, not officially.”
“Hard to make that stick with umpteen generations of people who have been using it for whatever,” Len said.
“And then,” Liam said slowly, “along comes Erik Berglund, who says the trail might go back millennia for the Sugpiaq.”
Gabe nodded glumly. “And if he’s right, there will be zero chance of me gaining title to that trail.”
“And now he’s dead.”
It was his turn to be glared at. “I can always buy another house.”
“Yeah, but you like this one,” Len said.
Gabe transferred his glare. “Whose side are you on anyway?”
Len patted the air. “Relax, kid. Better the trooper knows it all upfront.”
Gabe crossed his arms and glared out the window instead. “I liked Erik, right of way or no right of goddamn way. If he’d proved his point we could have come up with a workaround, and if not I would have learned to live with it. Maybe buy out the property on the other side of mine and put in access that way, and then close off the existing driveway altogether.”
“Maybe build a moat while you were at it.”
“Maybe,” Gabe said with emphasis. He looked back at Liam. “I’m a full-time resident now, except when I’m off on a shoot. I’m here for the duration, registered to vote in Alaska and everything. No way I wanted to start out in the Bay with something like this.” He sighed and let his arms fall. “Erik was a good person, and a scholar. I only knew him a couple of months but I think… I think we were on our way to being friends. I don’t know that many people who don’t give a shit who I am.” He looked back at Liam. “And now we are all deprived of whatever future discoveries he might make, whatever they were and however they impacted me. Whoever killed him robbed us all. I hope you find him and throw him in prison for the rest of his life.”
Liam looked down at the list. “When did the party start?”
“I told everyone six o’clock for food and drink. We ran the film at eight p.m. It ended at nine-thirty. There was dessert, more drinks, and everyone left between ten-thirty and eleven.”
“No wait staff? No caterer?”
A shake of the head. “It was just beer and wine and burgers and dogs and ice cream.”
“Who was the last to leave?”
“Erik,” Gabe said glumly. “We had another beer and shot the breeze for another half an hour after everyone else left. You’re right, Len and I are probably the last people to see him alive.”
“After which,” Len said, “the two of us cleaned up—” He caught Liam’s look and grinned. “Well, okay, we didn’t actually clean up. We bagged the trash and stacked the dirty dishes. The housekeeper came the next morning and cleaned up.”
“After that?”
“I went to bed.”
“In your cabin?” Len nodded. Liam looked at Gabe. “And you?”
“I read for a while, then same.”
“Do either of you know where Erik’s cabin is?”
Both men shook their heads.
“I saw a fold-up bed in the tent. He spend the night there often?”
“I don’t know
