Death on the St. Lawrence Read online

  Death on the St. Lawrence

  Agnès Ruiz

  Translated by Louise Lochner

  “Death on the St. Lawrence”

  Written By Agnès Ruiz

  Copyright © 2018 Agnès Ruiz

  All rights reserved

  Distributed by Babelcube, Inc.

  www.babelcube.com

  Translated by Louise Lochner

  Cover Design © 2018 Agnes Ruiz

  “Babelcube Books” and “Babelcube” are trademarks of Babelcube Inc.

  Table of Contents

  Title Page

  Copyright Page

  Biography

  About Agnes Ruiz

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Your Review and Word-of-Mouth Recommendations Will Make a Difference

  Are You Looking For Other Great Reads?

  Biography

  Novels

  Ma vie assassinée

  L’ombre d’une autre vie

  La main étrangère

  Et si c’était ma vie ? (second volume of Ma vie assassinée)

  Oublie la nuit

  Hôtel du bord de mer (The Seaside Hotel, translated by Sarah Sharman)

  Clous et marteau, c’est toi qu’il me faut (Nails & Hammer, YOU are all I need, translated by Sarah Sharman)

  Demain, cappuccinos, bikinis, #Love

  Meurtre à la course

  Double meurtre dans les beaux quartiers (Double Murder in Attractive Districts, translated by James Wung Zeh)

  Le parapluie d’Arthur Shipwall

  Dernier frisson avant la mort

  Short Stories

  Assassinat d’un prêtre (Death of a priest, translated by Kirsty Snaith)

  Un cadavre sur la plage

  Un striptease de trop (One striptease too much, translated by Natalie Paige Jenkins)

  L’assassin de la gare (The Station Killer, translated by Kirsty Snaith)

  Mort sur le St-Laurent (Death on the St-Lawrence, translated by Louise Lochner)

  Mon petit écureuil suivi de Flocons de neige (My little squirrel, followed by Snowflakes, Translated by Cheryl Witchell)

  L’amour est dans l’ombre (Love in the Shadow translated by Naomi Hanlon)

  Le laveur de vitres de Trifouilly-les-Oies (The Window cleaner from Trifouilly-les-Oies, translated by augustine nwokedikko)

  La belle naufragée suivi de Cadeau de noces

  L’indomptable Molly suivi de Le voyage de Colonel

  Metro stories, vol. 1 (Trois pâtisseries suivi de Mélodie en mémoire)

  Les jeunes mariés (The Newlyweds, translated by Ilia Scortariu)

  Pur sang (Racing Blood, translated by Lauren Broom)

  Les âmes vertueuses et Brume dans le métro

  Mr le Président et Eugénie au pays des merveilles

  Jour de pluie, jour de rêverie et L’anniversaire de Guillermo

  Question d’apparence, Le triomphe de la république et Mon bien-aimé

  Le conducteur poète, Le joueur de saxo, Lumière et S’accrocher

  Les aventures fantomatiques de Lord McSpirit et de son valet O’Ghost (The ghostly adventures of Lord Mc Spirit and his valet O’Ghost, translated by Edib Beširević)

  Practical books

  J’apprends l’alphabet avec mes amies les lettres

  52 pensées positives pour réussir ses études (écrit avec Alain Ruiz) (52 positives thoughts for successful studies)

  52 pensées positives pour devenir un sportif de haut-niveau (écrit avec Alain Ruiz) (52 positive thoughts to Become an Elite Athlete)

  Youth books

  Mon affreux maillot beige

  Poppy Rose, mon journal intime (Poppy Rose, my secret diary, translated by Cheryl Witchel)

  Le petit pois (Album illustré)

  Pom-pom girls

  – Une équipe du tonnerre

  – Le secret de Brittany

  – Coup dur

  – Tous les coups sont permis

  – Concert ou championnat

  – Gardiennes intrépides

  Elias Sparte

  – L’oracle des trois soleils

  – Les œufs sacrés

  – Le sanglier de Calydon

  – La chasseresse de la nuit

  About Agnes Ruiz

  Agnès Ruiz is the author of several best-sellers. She had huge success with her first novel “Ma vie assassinée”. She writes for both adults and children. Her short stories featuring the investigations of detective Rachel Toury have also been very successful in Europe as well as North America. Several translations are available. She is originally from Normandy (France) and lived in Canada for almost 20 years.

  Chapter 1

  The body had floated along the St. Lawrence waters, drifting with the arbitrary ebb and flow of the river until finally washing ashore in Montreal. The cadaver lay enmeshed in branches and vegetation of all kinds. Bloodthirsty seagulls squabbled over the spoils but scattered, feathers flying, at the sound of a barking dog. And then again at the sound of a teenager calling out to her impulsive Dalmatian.

  “Burton, come! What’s up?”

  Never had her four-legged companion behaved like this. He was growling at a heap of trash. Jessica walked over to grab Burton’s leather collar, her eyes searching the distant waters. She loved this remote spot where her dog could run off leash. Burton turned his nose towards his owner, whimpering to get her attention.

  Jessica felt something wasn’t quite right. She let go of Burton’s collar, though unsure if it was a good idea. The animal dashed over to the mound and began digging frantically.

  Jessica approached her dog, ready to reprimand him. He was going to stink like a swamp. Suddenly, her words froze in her throat. She could make out the shape of a body, a human form amid the strange pile. Then, she saw the gaping sockets where there should have been eyes. A pestilential odor sent her running in the opposite direction.

  “Burton, come!”

  Her tone sounded unnatural. The dog hesitated, and then continued pawing to disentangle the putrid body. Jessica became more insistent. Her voice had a ghostlike quality. Perhaps it was this change that made her dog run back to her.

  Here was a scene Jessica had encountered in books and movies, but never in reality. Horrible! This couldn’t be happening. Struggling to rouse herself, she pulled out her cell phone, which tumbled out of her hands as she was trying to make a call. Dumbfounded, she stared at the object lying on the ground. Her dog barked, startling her back into action. She finally leaned down to pick it up. In no time, she had her aunt on the line, Rachel Toury, a detective with the Montreal police department.

  Chapter 2

  Detective Toury arrived soon after the call, accompanied by her crew. But first, Rachel focused her attention on her niece.

  “How are you?”

  “Sickened!”

  “No doubt! All right, stay right here and give me a moment to get my team started. Then we’ll go get something warm to drink, and you can tell me all about it.”

  The teen agreed, though still in a state of shock. She watched the people and the whirl of activity around the body. An officer was unfurling security tape. It felt as if she were on the set of a cop show.

  Why was she struck with such a strange feeling? She shuddered as if to remind herself this wasn’t a dream. Jessica couldn’t resist the urge to take a step
forward, despite her aunt’s advice. She cautiously fastened the leash to Burton’s collar.

  Detective Toury and Sergeant Jean-François Millet were having a discussion near the cadaver. The detective leaned forward to get a first look.

  “His body is considerably bloated from the river, and he appears to be covered in a number of contusions.”

  Sergeant Millet nodded and said, “It’ll be complicated trying to figure which injuries were inflicted on land and which ones in the water. So, how’s your niece holding up?”

  “Actually, I’d appreciate it if you would take care of the initial proceedings. Photos, coroner. Anyway, I don’t need to explain it to you.”

  He assured her he would take care of the details.

  Rachel Toury walked back over to Jessica. She gently took hold of her niece’s arm and led her to the car.

  “Does your father know what’s happened?”

  Jessica shook her head.

  “My first thought was to call you. I had nothing to do with it, you know.”

  Taken aback, the detective frowned. Then she gave her a warm smile.

  “Of course you didn’t. What a crazy thought.”

  “Good! I mean I didn’t want you to get the wrong idea...”

  Rachel patted Jessica’s arm.

  “That’s not how I usually operate. And you know, his condition indicates he’s been dead for quite a few days.”

  “How horrible!”

  “It’s never fun to come across a cadaver. And even less so when crime is involved.”

  The teen’s eyes grew wide with fright.

  “What? It wasn’t a ... a drowning?”

  Rachel shook her head. She explained that there were deep wounds on the body. She chose her words carefully. She didn’t like making any pronouncements before hearing back from Raoul Corpus.

  “The medical examiner will prepare a conclusive report.”

  Moments later, Rachel parked her car alongside an apartment building.

  “What? Why did you bring me home?”

  “We’re going to get something warm to drink like I told you.”

  “I thought we were going to a café or something like that,” Jessica said with a pout.

  Rachel sensed there was something her niece wasn’t telling her but didn’t have time to dwell on it.

  “Your father, is he home?”

  The detective wasn’t sure if he currently had a job. It had been a while since she’d heard from him, which she now regretted. Her brother was a loner, and she stayed so busy with her job. Excuses, she realized.

  “He’s usually home by five.”

  Rachel guessed he had found some sort of work. He should be back within the next fifteen minutes she thought as she glanced at her watch.

  “OK, we’ll just wait for him.”

  “There’s really no point, you know. I can take care of myself—now that I’m sixteen.”

  The detective raised her eyebrows and sighed.

  “Already! Time is flying, my big girl. You’re as pretty as ever. Just like your mother,” she added with a smile.

  Inside the quiet home, Burton, shook himself and then pranced over to the dog bowl, oblivious to his humans.

  “You want some hot chocolate?” Rachel poked around and found the coffee pot.

  “I’m going to have a soda. Don’t worry, Auntie—I’ll take care of it.”

  The detective nodded. She felt out of place. It wasn’t that she was a stranger here—she’d visited often right after the marriage had fallen apart. She had tried to be attentive and available for him, but her brother had seemed to resent her and made her feel as if she were smothering him. And so she had kept her distance. For too long, she now realized. Or maybe she had misunderstood him. Her brother may have meant to achieve the opposite with his critical remarks, as some people do.

  Chapter 3

  The detective grabbed a mug from the cabinet and heated up leftover coffee in the microwave. They moved towards the living room where she took a seat in an armchair, and Jessica plopped down on a sofa. Rachel asked the usual questions about how the body had been discovered, taking out a notepad to write down her niece’s answers as well as her own impressions. With her usual precision, she asked for details whenever necessary.

  Jessica interrupted her suddenly to say, “You do this all the time, I suppose.”

  “What?”

  “Go to people’s homes interrogating suspects, throwing the guilty off balance.”

  Once again, Rachel’s eyes lit up with a smile. Truthfully, some investigations were carried out this way. What she’d said was flattering, and she liked this idea of “throwing the guilty off balance.” Unfortunately, it wasn’t always the case, even though she prided herself on never giving up.

  “What’s going to happen now?”

  “I would like for you to stay in touch, let me know how you’re feeling in the next few days.”

  Jessica shifted positions on the sofa. “Nope. Not me. I’m well aware it’s not all about me,” she said in a gloomy voice.

  Then there was a pause. The way she said it made Rachel think she must hear this phrase often from her father. Yet she didn’t want to interrupt her niece who was still focused on her previous thought.

  “I meant about the body. What’ll happen next?”

  “We’ll conduct a detailed investigation. Find out the story behind this man you discovered.”

  “It’s sort of like going back in time.”

  It was a fairly good analogy. And an unexpected observation. Rachel took a closer look at her niece. She had grown up so fast. In her mind she was still just a little girl.

  “It’s too bad we don’t see each other more often,” Jessica added.

  “I was thinking the same thing,” Rachel admitted.

  “I know my dad’s not easy to get along with. He’s complicated,” she said with a smirk.

  Rachel laughed at the fitting description. Yet, she kept in mind the mitigating circumstances. Life hadn’t been so kind to him.

  “Don’t worry about it, Auntie.”

  Burton gave a high-pitched bark, drowning out Jessica’s last words. A man had just entered the living room and was eyeing Jessica and Rachel. His expression changed when he saw the serious look on his sister’s face.

  “What are you doing here? Is it Dad?”

  Rachel stood up at that moment and shook her head to ward off such a thought.

  “No, Pierre-André. He’s doing quite well. I’m glad to see you.”

  “Yes ... good to see you,” he said half-heartedly.

  They gave each other an awkward hug. Unspoken questions seemed to linger in his eyes.

  “You look a lot better than you did the last time I saw you,” the detective added.

  She had hoped to lighten the mood. All it got her was an angry reply.

  He gave his daughter a reproachful look as he yelled, “OK, what’s going on. I know you. You didn’t just happen to stop by. Jess is in trouble. That’s got to be it. Trouble, that’s all it’s been lately—”

  “—Sit down. It would help. We need to talk,” Rachel snapped at him.

  Her brother seemed incapable of shutting up. It had been that way in the past and obviously nothing had changed. He talked the loudest, always interrupting others to broadcast his opinions, which were often totally off track. Yet it was hard for anyone to stifle his motor mouth.

  “I knew something was wrong! You don’t tell people to sit down for nothing! It’s Mom, right? And she’s in Australia of all places! What are we supposed to do, huh? I don’t have money for that kind of trip!”

  “Would you please calm down. Mom has nothing to do with why I’m here.”

  Normally, Rachel would have paused to allow time for her words to sink in. But in her brother’s case, she didn’t dare give him enough time to go off the deep end.

  “It’s about something that happened today. Burton found a dead body washed up on a bank of the St. Lawrence River.”
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  Pierre-André collapsed into the nearest chair. His jaw dropped open as he turned towards his daughter. Rarely had Rachel seen her brother at a loss for words. His brow was furrowed. Finally, he roused himself, slowly as an indecisive spring, disbelief written on his face.

  “What’s this nonsense about?”

  “It’s true, Dad. I swear it is,” Jessica cried out.

  Suddenly an odd tension settled into the room.

  “You know, lately Jess has been making up all sorts of stories. Just to get attention.”

  The teenager crossed her arms in irritation, her face turning back into an unsmiling façade. Rachel didn’t like the turn in the conversation, much less her brother’s demeaning remark, so she decided to intervene.

  “Hey, Pierre-André, that’s enough. She’s telling the truth. Your daughter needs your support, not your judgement.”

  “What do you know about it and whether or not my judgement is unwarranted, huh? Where were you when she ran away last month? Were you there when she got suspended from school for fighting?”

  Rachel’s jaw dropped in shock. She almost reminded him how he had criticized her for stopping by so often, saying she was suffocating him. She decided it would be pointless. Even petty. Still, she couldn’t resist the urge to point out his reclusive behavior.

  “You know, you could call from time to time to let us know how you’re doing.”

  Pierre-André said nothing. He answered the rebuke by letting out a deep sigh. Gloves off. Brother and sister stood face to face, neither one ready to back down.

  “So lovely seeing the two of you together again,” Jessica said. “Anyway, I’m heading up to my room!” she fumed.

  As she stood up to leave, her father ordered her to sit back down. His finger pointed at the sofa, just in case she had tuned out his words.

  “No more running away, Jessica Toury!”

  “I didn’t do anything,” the teen protested, her arms hugging her torso. “It’s not my fault I found a dead body.”

  Rachel was getting irritated. The situation was more complicated that she would have ever imagined. Once again, she blamed herself for not having been more persistent. After leaving one too many messages on their answering machine, she had given up. She put her arm around his niece and faced her brother. The two women towered over the seated figure, his face turned towards theirs.