Free Salvage by Stephen Maher Page B

Scarnum, and they shook hands.
    â€œAnd don’t be too curious,” said Donald. “It’s not good for a guy.”

    S carnum was nursing a Keith’s and tidying up the Orion when Constable Léger drove down the little lane and stopped at the dock.
    Scarnum put on a mesh ball cap that said “d’Eon’s Lobster Plugs” on the brow, went up to the cockpit and sat down, stretched out his legs, and watched the Mountie open the door and walk over to the dock.
    Léger walked to the edge of the dock and stood looking down at Scarnum.
    Scarnum smiled and toasted her with his beer. Léger didn’t smile back. She dropped a photograph on Scarnum’s outstretched legs.
    Scarnum kept smiling until he saw the picture.
    It was a picture of a man in orange overalls, lying on his belly on a sandy beach. There were three bullet holes in the man’s back. There was black blood on the grey sand under him.
    Léger dropped another photo on top of that one. This showed the same man — Jimmy Zinck — naked on a coroner’s bench, with three neat holes in the pale flesh of his back.
    Léger dropped one more photo. It showed Jimmy Zinck’s face, bloated and blue, his open eyes staring, his mouth distorted with pain or terror.
    â€œDo you know what I call this series?” said Léger. “Death of an Idiot.”
    Scarnum looked up at her, then sat up straight and flipped through the three pictures again.
    â€œHe wasn’t the smartest guy to ever walk the streets of Chester,” said Scarnum. “But he didn’t deserve to die like that.”
    Léger reached out and Scarnum handed her back the photos.
    â€œWhy did you go see Doug Amos?” said Léger.
    â€œI wanted to know why Jimmy was out fishing alone that night,” said Scarnum.
    â€œDid Angela Rodenhiser ask you to talk to him?” said Léger.
    â€œShe came to see me and asked me what happened to Jimmy,” said Scarnum. “I thought I’d go have a chat with his partner.”
    Léger stared at him. There were bags under her bloodshot eyes. Scarnum noticed that her eyes were very pretty.
    â€œYou told us you didn’t really know Jimmy,” she said.
    â€œWell, I know Angela,” said Scarnum. “She used to work at the Anchor when I was drinking there a lot. She’s like a little sister to me”
    â€œDid you like Jimmy Zinck?” asked Léger.
    â€œWell no, I guess I didn’t,” said Scarnum. “He was all right, great fun if you’re having a few drinks. The girls all liked him. He was funny. Crazy. But he was a loudmouth and a show-off, and I don’t think he treated Angela too good. But if I went around killing everybody I don’t like, there’d be a lot of dead people walking around Chester. I didn’t kill him, Constable, and I think you know that. I just happened to find his boat, is all. I risked my arse to salvage it and now it looks like I might not get paid for it.”
    â€œWas there anything on the boat?” said Léger.
    â€œI already answered that question at the detachment,” said Scarnum.
    Léger looked up at the bow. “I see you put your new anchor on,” she said. “What happened to the other one?”
    Scarnum sat for a while before answering. “I fouled it last week,” he said.
    Léger just looked at him.
    â€œIt got caught on the bottom and I couldn’t pull it up,” he said. “So I had to cut the line. It happens.”
    â€œWhen did Angela come see you?” said Léger.
    Scarnum got to his feet. “Look, thanks for showing me the pictures, Constable Léger,” he said. “I’d like to chat with you more, but somebody made an awful mess of my boat and I’ve got to clean it up.”
    â€œIf you want, we can come back with a warrant and search your boat again,” said Léger.
    Scarnum stopped on the ladder down to the