Charlie Salliaqâs been petitioning the Defence Department for years to get that green-lit, well, we both have.â
âYouâre right. Thatâs not at the top of my mind. Glacier Ridge is an active crime scene.â
But Gutierrez wasnât about to give up.
âThe pool where the body was found, of course, but the entire site? Thatâs a pretty large area. The clean-up is important work, sergeant.â Gutierrez sounded a little more defensive than she had probablyintended. âThe Defence Departmentâs under tremendous financial pressure. Theyâre quite capable of using this as an excuse to pull out.â
âMy job is finding Martha Salliaqâs killer, Ms Gutierrez, and Iâd like to get on with it.â
Gutierrez nodded, tight-lipped, and was about to rise from her chair to leave when Edie stayed her with a hand.
âA moment?â She lowered her voice. âBetween us, do you know of anyone whoâd want to hurt the Salliaq family?â she said.
Gutierrez looked puzzled.
âI found a
tupilaq
on the steps to the Pitoqsâ house this morning. A curse object.â
Gutierrez grimaced. âCharlie Salliaq can be abrasive but heâs very respected.â She paused, as though recognizing the importance of the question. âI guess there
was
some opposition to the plan to clean up Lake Turngaluk. Something about stirring up bad spirits. Superstition.â
âFrom?â
The lawyer gave an exasperated sigh. âYou know how it is. No one actually said anything openly. It was just kind of in the air.â
âIf it comes down to earth, youâll let us know,â Derek said.
Gutierrez grunted a yes, then stood and, brushing herself down, made for the door. Derek waited until she was gone before wheeling about to face Edie, his face blush with anger.
âWhy didnât you tell me about the
tupilaq
beforehand? Dealing with team Salliaq is enough like wrangling a pair of wounded walruses without my VPSO withholding information from me.â
âIâm sorry, D. It wonât happen again.â There was a pause. âHowâs about I make myself useful and go see Sam Oolik at the store?â
Derek swung around on his chair so that his back was to her.
âThat
is
the general idea,â he said, irritably.
â¢Â   â¢Â   â¢
A blast of lukewarm, damp-smelling air hit Sonia Gutierrez face on. In all the years sheâd been flying up to Kuujuaq to work on the land-rights claim sheâd never noticed just how awful the hotel was, more like some kind of overpriced homeless shelter than guest accommodation. Acleaner was supposed to come in daily whenever there were guests but it was rare that anyone showed up. On one occasion she left an empty bottle of shampoo in the bathroom and it was still there on her next visit four months later. There were no permanent staff. You checked in at the mayorâs office, where they gave you a room key and, if you were lucky, a towel and a roll of bathroom tissue. At the end of each visit youâd take the phone log to the mayorâs office, theyâd tot up what you owed for calls, add on some insane sum to cover non-existent âadministrationâ and charmlessly send you on your way. The whole experience was less pleasant sojourn, more organized extortion.
Palliserâs indifference to the clean-up programme was frustrating but hardly surprising. She, however, had put more than a decade of her life into pursuing first the land claim then the decontamination programme and she wasnât about to see her efforts stymied, even by something as terrible as a murder. Her fee was dependent on the works being completed and, though she was fond of Charlie Salliaq and sympathized with the Salliaq family, she had family too, back in Guatemala, and they depended on the money she sent them every month to get by.
She moved out of the hallway to the communal