Or was it Delorme who'd brought the bear? Sometimes when the Demerol kicked in, he fancied the bear was speaking to him, but he knew that wasn't real. No, no, Miss Steen had brought the bear. Delorme was analytical, no friend to sentimentality.
"You come from a big family, Mr. Cardinal." This from the young nurse who came in to give him a shot. She was a stolid thing, with a gap tooth and a storm of freckles.
"My family? My family's not that- Ow!"
"Sorry. All done. If you just stay turned a minute, I'll straighten up a little." She was doing things to the bed, snapping sheets like flags. "Boy, that red-haired fellow sure has a mouth on him," she chattered on. "It's a good thing he sent the head nurse some flowers. He may even be allowed back." She flipped Cardinal the other way, then hoisted him up, then sat him back, all with the careless force of a professional. It hurt like hell. "He doesn't look much like you, though, with that red hair. I would never have thought you were brothers."
The drugs blotted up his pain like ink. He fell into a sleep that was soupy with dreams and awoke feeling cheerful. Beneath this, he was aware of a lurking anxiety, a shadow taking shape in a fog. He slipped back into sleep. He dreamed that Catherine was out of her own hospital and visiting him in his. She was watching over him like a guardian angel, but when he woke in the middle of the night there was no one, just the beep of the machines and the throbbing in his guts, and from down the hall, someone giggling.
"I just never expected it to be a woman," Delorme kept saying. "Okay, everybody knows someday you might have to shoot someone. Everybody knows you might have to shoot to save a life. Everybody knows that. But how many cops kill a woman, John? I keep telling myself she was a killer, but I still feel sick. I can't sleep, I can't eat."
Delorme rambled for a while, and he let her. He was glad she was there. She told him who the woman was and where she lived. Told him how they found the grandmother half-starved in the upstairs bedroom. Told him how she then realized where she had seen Edie Soames before, when she'd followed up on the library CD lead. Near tears, then, she had lamented how if she'd only been a little smarter, she would have hauled Edie Soames in for questioning.
Even drugged, Cardinal recalled that that lead had been wafer-thin. But Delorme would not be consoled; they might have saved Woody's life, that baby's father.
Cardinal asked about the search of the Soames house. "They killed Katie Pine with Granny sitting right upstairs. It's the house on the audiotape. First thing I heard when we went in? A clock on a mantel just like the one on the tape."
"No kidding. I wish I could have been there for that."
She told him what they'd found- a gun, a list, and Edie Soames's diary.
"A diary. I'll have to take a look at that."
"It's strange," Delorme said. "I mean, what's strange is how normal it is. It could be any girl, this diary- full of makeup and haircuts and how crazy she is about her boyfriend. But she talks about Billy LaBelle in it, too. They killed him, too."
"Does it say what they did with the body?"
"No, but we found something else. A camera- along with some pictures they took in front of the house where Todd Curry was killed. And another with Windigo Island in the background. And this one, near the reservoir." She pulled it out to show him: a shot of Edie Soames making an angel in the snow.
Cardinal had a little trouble focusing.
"It's near where they found Woody's body. Half a mile or so. Close to the pump house, too."
"How can you tell? It could be anywhere."
"I thought so, too, but look at the hydro pole in the corner."
"Is that a number on it? It's hardly visible."
"It's a number. Hydro gave us the exact location." She gripped his shoulder. "I think it's where they buried Billy LaBelle."
"We should get a digging team up there right away."
"They're already up there. It's my next stop."
"That's right," Cardinal said, fighting sleep. "I forgot how good you are." He turned on his side and saw the teddy bear with the cop's hat. "Thanks for the bear, Lise."
"I didn't give you the bear."
DELORME came back later. It might have been the same day, it might have been the next, he wasn't sure. She looked tired and pale, having just come from telling Billy LaBelle's parents that their son's body had been found. "It was awful," she said. "I don't know if I'm cut out for homicide after all."
"Yes, you are. Another cop might not have found the body. Then the LaBelles would be wondering the rest of their lives what happened to their boy. Horrible as it is, at least now they can put it to rest."
Delorme went silent for a few seconds. Then she got up and went to the door, checked the corridor, and came back. She pulled an envelope from her purse. "Before, you didn't understand. You were too stoned."
"My letter to R. J. Jesus, Delorme. How'd you know about that?"
"I searched your computer. Sorry, but that day you figured out about Katie Pine's bracelet I got a look at what you were typing on your computer. I mean, I saw it was addressed to the chief. He never saw it, John. He's moving into Dyson's office temporarily, and his mail- well, I got to his mail first. He'll be in to see you later. He's worried about you."
"You shouldn't have done it, Lise. If any of it comes out at trial-"
"There isn't any trial. They're both dead, remember?"
"Lise, you're risking your career."
"I don't want a good cop to lose his job. It was a one-time thing. You were under incredible pressure. It's not like you were part of some corrupt squad. I've thought about it, John. Bringing you down would do more harm than good, that's the simple truth. Besides, Toronto's not my jurisdiction, remember? Nobody asked me to investigate Toronto."
"But now I have to go through it all again."
"You don't have to. You don't ever have to think about it again."
But he knew he would- when the drugs wore off, when he was back at home, when he woke in the middle of the night. When he could think about something other than the hole in his hand and the holes in his guts, he would have to think about his own distant crime. It would never go away. That was the shape looming in the fog. And besides, R. J. was not the only one he had written to.
NEXT morning Cardinal woke in a different room on a different ward. Sunlight poured in the windows; he could feel it before he even opened his eyes. Magnified by panes of glass, the light felt hot on his arm. It felt good; it felt like health. He would lie there like a cat and soak it up. He started to stretch, but the stitches in his stomach changed his mind. Sometime later he became aware that someone was holding his hand. A small hand, smooth and warm.
"How's my sleepyhead?"
"Catherine?"
"I'm afraid so, darling. They let me out."
Catherine sat on the edge of his bed, not at all like a guardian angel. Her eyes were not serene pools of certainty; they were shy and worried. He could see the slight droop of her left eyelid where the medication refused to loosen its grip. But her agitation had subsided- there were no restless movements; the hands that held his own remained still.
"No, I'm not deranged anymore. I'm running on lithium, like the Starship Enterprise. Sorry. That has intergalactic overtones, doesn't it."
She was wearing the beret he had given her. Such a small gesture, and yet he couldn't find the words to say how much it moved him. "You look great" was all he could manage.
"You don't look bad, either. Especially for someone who near drowned and was shot twice."
There was a silence while they held hands and tried to think of words that would help start them on the road to knowing each other again.