The Early Investigations of Joanne Kilbourn (Deadly Appearances; Murder at the Mendel; The Wandering Soul Murders)

565 Pages·2016·2.19 MB·English

by  Bowen Gail

Copyright © 2004 by Gail Bowen
This omnibus edition published in 2004 by McClelland & Stewart
Deadly Appearances: copyright © 1990 by Gail Bowen
First published by Douglas & McIntyre Ltd., 1990
Murder at the Mendel: copyright © 1991 by Gail Bowen
First published by Douglas & McIntyre Ltd., 1991
The Wandering Soul Murders: copyright © 1992 by Gail Bowen
First published by Douglas & McIntyre Ltd., 1992
All rights reserved. The use of any part of this publication reproduced, transmitted in any form or
by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise, or stored in a
retrieval system, without the prior written consent of the publisher – or, in case of photocopying
or other reprographic copying, a licence from the Canadian Copyright Licensing Agency – is an
infringement of the copyright law.
National Library of Canada Cataloguing in Publication
Bowen, Gail, 1942-
The early investigations of Joanne Kilbourn / Gail Bowen.
Contents: Deadly appearances — Murder at the Mendel —
The wandering soul murders.
eISBN: 978-1-55199535-9
I. Title. II. Title: Deadly appearances. III. Title: Murder at the Mendel. IV. Title: The wandering
soul murders.
PS8553.O8995E27 2004 C813′.54 C2004-902145-1
We acknowledge the financial support of the Government of Canada through the Book Publishing
Industry Development Program and that of the Government of Ontario through the Ontario
Media Development Corporation’s Ontario Book Initiative. We further acknowledge the support
of the Canada Council for the Arts and the Ontario Arts Council for our publishing program.
McClelland & Stewart Ltd.
The Canadian Publishers
75 Sherbourne Street,
Toronto, Ontario
M5A 2P9
www.mcclelland.com
v3.1
CONTENTS
Cover
Title Page
Copyright
Deadly Appearances
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
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Murder at the Mendel
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
The Wandering Soul Murders
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
Deadly Appearances
CHAPTER
1
For the first seconds after Andy’s body slumped onto the searing metal of
the truck bed, it seemed as if we were all encircled by a spell that froze
us in the terrible moment of his fall. Suspended in time, the political
people standing behind the stage, hands wrapped around plastic glasses
of warm beer, kept talking politics. Craig and Julie Evanson, the perfect
political couple, safely out of public view, were drinking wine coolers
from bottles. Andy’s family and friends, awkward at finding themselves
so publicly in the place of honour, kept sitting, small smiles in place, on
the folding chairs that lined the back of the stage. The people out front
kept looking expectantly at the empty space behind the podium.
Waiting. Waiting.
And then chaos. Everyone wanted to get to Andy.
Including me. The stage was about four and a half feet off the ground.
Accessible. I stepped back a few steps, took a little run and threw myself
onto the stage floor. It was when I was lying on that scorching metal,
shins stinging, wind knocked out of me, chin bruised from the hit I had
taken, that I saw Rick Spenser.
There was, and still is, something surreal about that moment: the
famous face looming up out of nowhere. He was pulling himself up the
portable metal staircase that was propped against the back of the truck
bed. His body appeared in stages over the metal floor: head, shoulders
and arms, torso, belly, legs, feet. He seemed huge. He was climbing
those steps as if his life depended on it, and his face was shiny and red
with exertion. The heat on the floor of the stage was unbearable. I could
smell it. I remember thinking, very clearly, a big man like that could die
in this heat, then I turned and scrambled toward Andy. The metal floor
was so hot it burned the palms of my hands.
Over the loud-speaker a woman was saying, “Could a doctor please
come up here?” over and over. Her voice was terrible, forlorn and empty
of hope. As soon as I saw Andy, I knew there wasn’t any point in a
doctor.
Andy was in front of me, and I knew he was dead. He looked
crumpled – all the sinew and spirit was gone. For the only time since I’d
known him, he looked – no other word – insignificant.
The winter after my husband died I had taken a course in emergency
cardiac care – something to make me feel less exposed to danger, less at
the mercy of the things that could kill you if you weren’t ready for them.
As I turned Andy over on his back, I could hear the voice of our
instructor, very young, very confident – nothing would ever hurt her. “I
hope none of you ladies ever have to use this, but if you do, just
remember .” I was beginning to tremble. Airway. I took Andy’s chin
ABC
between my thumb and forefinger and tilted his head back. His flesh felt
clammy and flaccid, but the airway was clear. Breathing. I put my ear on
his mouth, listened, and watched his chest for a sign of breathing. There
was nothing. I was talking to myself. I could hear my voice, but it didn’t
sound like me. “Four quick rescue breaths and then . Check circulation.”
C
I bent over Andy and pinched his nostrils shut. “Oh, I’m sorry, Andy. I’m
sorry,” and I bent my mouth to cover his. – but I never got to .
ABC C
There was a smell on his lips and around his mouth. It was familiar,
but I couldn’t place it. Something ordinary and domestic, but there was
an acrid edge to it that made me stop. Without forming the thought, I
knew I had smelled danger.
Then I looked toward the podium and saw Rick Spenser filling the
glass from the black Thermos. I didn’t hesitate. His hands were shaking
so badly he could barely hold the glass. Water was splashing down his
arms and on his belly, but he must have filled his glass because he raised
it to his lips.
Suddenly the world became narrow and focused. All that mattered
now was to keep him from drinking that water. I opened my arms and
threw myself at Rick Spenser’s knees. It was a surprisingly solid hit. He
fell hard, face down. He must have stunned himself because for a few
moments he was very still.
The next few minutes are a jumble. The ambulance came. Spenser
regained consciousness. As the attendants loaded Andy on the stretcher,