Constable Molly Smith 01 - In the Shadow of the Glacier

straightforward. Enough to help Clemmins and the business absorb some of the blow caused by the death of Montgomery, but nothing excessive. By the look of things, John, I’d say Montgomery was the drive behind the partnership. Clemmins dug up the start-up costs and worked to get investors interested in putting up more money, while Montgomery negotiated with construction companies and townships. I also took a peek at the Japanese firm negotiating with M&C. They seem to be squeaky clean. From what I’ve learned, without Montgomery M&C Developments is hanging on by its fingertips. Clemmins has more to lose with the death of his partner than he has to gain. Although….”
    “I like the sound of that, Rose,” he said. “Carry on.”
    “Just rumor and conjecture.”
    “Rumor and conjecture to a detective without a lead is like mother’s milk to an abandoned kitten.”
    “Whatever. The business community’s buzzing with talk about Montgomery and M&C. There was some strain between Montgomery and Clemmins. They were overheard not long ago having an intense discussion.”
    Winters had no idea where Rose got all her information. But it was always reliable.
    “Seems that Clemmins was getting cold feet. The Grizzly Resort was pretty much the sum total of M&C the last few months. Montgomery even rented a house in Trafalgar to be near the action.”
    “Clemmins didn’t like that?”
    “He was worried that they were getting too deep into the resort. With local groups and environmental activists opposing the development, and the possibility of an American boycott of the town if this monument to Vietnam draft dodgers is built, the risk of losing it all was climbing.”
    “So he decided to cut his losses and take out a contract on his partner?”
    “Been done before. But both Montgomery and Clemmins have clean reputations. For developers in this market, anyway. If you want my off-the-record opinion.”
    “I do.”
    “Clemmins might bash Montgomery’s brains out, or visa versa, in an argument over the resort. But you say he’s got a good alibi, so it would have to have been a contract killing. And I can’t see that. There might be something I haven’t found out, but I’d say Clemmins has too much to lose from Montgomery’s death.”
    They hung up with the promise of dinner when he was next in Vancouver. Eliza enjoyed the company of Rose and her husband, Claude, who was, of all things, a sculptor. One of his pieces had been bought by the city for a prominent square. It was a minor scandal, as everyone thought that the sculpture was a stylized giant penis about to penetrate a woman. It was, Claude had sniffed, the arrow of truth breaking into the cave of narrow minds.
    Even now Winters laughed when he thought of it. He tossed his coffee cup into the trash. Time to head off to a visit with Ellie Montgomery. That would surely be a waste of time.
    “Tell me you’ve heard from Mrs. Fitzgerald,” he said to Denton at the front desk.
    “No can do.” Denton was still nursing his double-double. “The Horsemen called. They talked to the Baxter guy.”
    “Who?”
    “Got a lighter from Andy Smith’s store yesterday?”
    “Right.”
    “Waved it in front of their faces.”
    Yet another dead end. “Anything from the people checking gas stations?”
    “Not yet.”
    “Bassing?”
    “Not at his place. His car’s gone, which is good news. We’ve sent his license plate number to the border guards, all across B.C. and down to Washington State. That girl was in here only yesterday, asking for Molly. Any word from the hospital?”
    “Not yet.”
    ***
    As expected, Winters learned nothing new from Mrs. Montgomery, but driving back to town, Ron Gavin called to tell him that the entrance to Christa’s apartment was a gold mine of forensic evidence—evidence up the wazoo, he said. Her key was on the floor, two sets of fingerprints on it. Two sets on the door knob. The neighbor had been watering his lawn that morning, and had also watered the sidewalk. Muddy footprints too large to be Christa’s had stomped up the path, overlaying a smaller set that was probably hers, and went through her front door.
    Dave Evans called next to say that he’d found a neighbor who’d seen Christa in the company of a man only steps from her door. And the neighbor was sure he’d be able to identify the guy.
    Winters heard nothing from Smith at the hospital nor from the hospital itself, and he hoped that no news was good news. They should