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Chapter Six
“Couldthey make this print any smaller? I swear my eyes arebleeding.”
Alexa gave Nyle a commiserating smile. They’d started with all the airline passenger lists for three days preceding Simard’s death, dividing them up between them. Each page had to be checked for the name of the victim, all of his documented aliases and the names of his known acquaintances. It was laborious work. When they found nothing, Nyle began cross-checking the pages against the airline manifests for visitors into New Brunswick for a few days prior to the first victim being foundthere.
Alexa began to put the more recent pages she’d scanned back in order when a name seemed to jump off the front sheet at her. She’d missed it before, but this time its familiarity sparked a memory. She turned to her laptop to bring up the briefing notes Ethan distributed eachday.
“Mikiel Fornier,” she saidslowly.
Nyle lifted his gaze from his work. “Fornier?” He thought for a moment. “That’s the name of one of Simard’s buddies, right? At least it was back when he was arrested fourteen yearsago.”
“Look at this.” She nudged the manifest page toward him, her finger stabbing at the name. “He appears on the passenger manifest for JetCanada. He arrived at the Halifax airport a few hours ago.” Logic suppressed her initial surge of excitement. “Of course, there may be several people with the samename.”
“True enough,” he muttered. “But what’s his city of origin?” They peered at the page, then simultaneously, “Montreal.” Alexa’s gaze met Nyle’s. “Same city asSimard.”
“Maybe something, maybe nothing.” But he pushed away from the table and headed for the door, the urgency in his movements belying his nonchalant tone. “The airline’s PNR is a personal name record for all passengers. It has information that isn’t on the manifests. I’m going to Sedgewick’s office to see if we can access those details. Good catch,Alexa.”
She looked at the remaining pile in front of Nyle’s empty seat without enthusiasm. To give her eyes a break, she took a moment to pick up her phone and text Ethan.A Mikiel Fornier from Montreal flew in this a.m. Confirming ID as Simard’s acquaintance.As she pressed send, she noted the time. It had been nearly two hours since Ethan had left them, which should surely be more than enough time for him to check out the tip at the hotel and beback.
Unless the maid’s lead was valid. She frowned. But if that were true, he’d have surely alerted them. She pushed away the niggling sense of concern and returned to the airline lists. When Nyle burst through the door thirty minutes later waving a sheet of paper, she was more than ready for theinterruption.
“PNR yielded a date and place of birth, which matches the Mikiel Fornier who’s a known acquaintance of Simard. Even got a photo, courtesy of his most recent arrest two years ago.” He slapped the paper down in front ofAlexa.
The image was a mugshot, showing a beefy man with a bullet-shaped shaven head and bushy black beard. A prison tat adorned the side of his neck. She took out her phone and took a picture of the image, sending it to Ethan with the messageConfirmed. Mikiel Fornier.“Do you think Simard sent for him? Or that they had plans to meethere?”
Nyle sank back into the seat he’d vacated earlier. “Maybe he came looking for him. We just ID’d Simard’s identity yesterdaymorning.”
“Have you heard fromEthan?”
Nyle shook his head and reached for a pile of manifests. “No. He hasn’t even responded to my messages about Fornier. If I didn’t know better, I’d say he’s deliberately avoiding us until we get this chore finished withouthim.”
* * *
Ethan now wishedfor the traffic he’d cursed only a short time ago. The taxi containing his assailant was moving freely. It’d be held up only by traffic lights. As he gave chase on foot, he drew his cell out and pressed the number for his contact in the Halifax Police Department. Muttered an epithet as the cab turned right on a redlight.
“LieutenantMartin.”
“It’s RCMP Sergeant Manning. I’m heading east on foot after a person of interest on Cortail Street and Sixty-Seventh. Yellow cab number three seventy-three. I need patrol cars in the area to give pursuit.” Martin wasted no time asking questions. Ethan could hear him radioing the message to the patrol cars. “I’m uncertain whether he’s armed.” He gave a brief description of his attacker. “The cab just turned north on the next block.” With a burst of energy, he sped down the sidewalk, dodging pedestrians and strollers as he raced toward the corner to keep the vehicle ineyesight.
“Vehicle heading north on Montrose Street between Sixty-Seventh and Sixty-Eighth,” Martinrepeated.
“Unit two-four-six responding. I have a visual.” Ethan heard the faint response of a patrolman on Martin’sradio.
“RCMP officer in the vicinity in foot pursuit.” Then Martin spoke into the phone again. “We’ve got units converging on thearea.”
“Thanks.” He rounded the corner and headed north. “I see a department vehicle.” With an eye on the traffic, he darted into the street. On the opposite sidewalk, he ran as fast as he was able, charging through a queue of thirsty patrons waiting for their coffee outside a Timmie’s and nearly barreled into a couple of workmen in tan uniforms unloading a truck outside a restaurant. A siren split the air, the sound welcome to his ears. He could see the cab a block ahead now, and it was stopped, a uniformed officer approaching the driver’s door. Then the passenger door on the opposite side burst open, and Ethan’s attacker lunged out. He raced away from the car, heading directly forEthan.
When the man saw Ethan coming, he veered to the right and ran through a shop doorway. The officer immediately gave pursuit, so Ethan, energy flagging, rounded the corner to cover the alley, drawing his weapon as he did so. The stranger burst through the back door of one of the buildings and headed his way, only to stumble to a halt when he sawEthan.
“Hands in the air!RCMP!”
He could almost see the man weighing his options before he turned and fled the other direction. As he did, the officer who pursued him stepped through the rear door of the building the man had used. “Stop!Police!”
The bearded man stumbled to a halt, turning slowly, his arms half-raised, chestheaving.
“Sergeant Manning, RCMP.” With his free hand, Ethan reached for his credentials and held them high for the uniformed officer to see. “Go ahead and cuff him. We’ll take him in forquestioning.”
“Yes, Sergeant.” The younger officer fastened cuffs on the larger man who was staring balefully atEthan.