and raced after the others, his black mane flying like a flag of defiance.
The lake became a swirling churning mass of boats and spray. It was like a pack of sharks fighting over prey. Above the roar, I heard intermittent shouts of “Halte-là!”, “Attention!”, “Arrêtez, arrêtez!”
Without warning, a loud thud rent the air. In the middle of the chaos, a green hull reared skyward, hung there for one long heart stopping moment, then crashed back to the lake, its contents tumbling into the cold, frothy water. All movement stopped.
A single silver hull sped to the spot where the officer, Charlie and Gareth had fallen in. Next, Eric was hauling the three bedraggled shapes, one after the other, over the side of his boat.
By the time I reached Eric’s boat, Charlie and the policeman had managed to shake off much of the excess water. With his brown uniform looking as if it had been through a wringer washer, Sgt. LaFramboise gesticulated and shouted at Eric. Charlie, looking massive in a clinging purple T-shirt, continued shaking his yellow jacket over the side. Gareth, in ruined suede, just sat there glaring, as water dribbled down his face. He made no attempt to wring himself dry.
The drowned rat look suits you, I thought to myself.
Charlie’s boat was floating hull up a short distance away. Next to it drifted John-Joe’s aluminum boat with the bow staved in. He sat in the stern bailing, while a couple of the others tried to right Charlie’s boat. But they soon gave up and tied a thick yellow towrope through the bow ring.
And all the while, the fleet of Zodiacs slowly circled us. They made no move to help out. Now that they had us trapped, they wanted to ensure none of us broke loose. But they needn’t have worried. With John-Joe out of action and Eric trying to placate LaFramboise, none of us had the heart to resume the action.
With tails between our legs, we returned in single file, at funereal speed, to the now crowded dock of the Fishing Camp.
My heart thudded as the planes landed. One after the other, they skidded across the puckered surface of the lake as the Zodiacs turned back to meet them.
What would we do now?
TWENTY-SIX
With a warning that it would be jail if we tried to prevent the planes from landing again, Sgt. LaFramboise told all of us to leave the Fishing Camp and go home, except for John-Joe. Insisting that John-Joe had rammed Charlie’s boat intentionally, LaFramboise threatened to charge him with assaulting a policeman. When Eric tried to intervene, the SQ officer threatened to charge him too. Some of the surrounding angry crowd started to move in, which ignited an angrier response from the CanacGold men standing next to a soaking Charlie and Gareth.
However, before things could go too far, Eric stopped them.
“Relax, everyone,” he said. “We don’t want to make matters worse. I suggest you all leave, while I work things out with Sgt. LaFramboise.”
For a moment the crowd hesitated, then in ones and twos they backed off. Some hopped into their cars; others retreated to the Fishing Camp bar. Deciding to wait for Eric, I joined the throng headed for the bar.
The pine-panelled room quickly filled with angry and frustrated voices. Two of Charlie’s supporters were dumb enough to follow and were resoundingly booed away.
As I waited in line at the bar, I found myself staring into the dead eyes of a large muskie mounted on the wall. Scanning the rest of the mounted trophy fish, I wondered whether this collection would grow any larger if CanacGold did succeed in developing the mine.
With beer in hand, I searched around for a familiar face and surprisingly spied Hélène’s strong-jawed face above a group of heads at the far end of the bar. Intending to kid her about having the nerve to leave the General Store in some else’s hands, I made my way towards her. However, by the time I pushed through the crowd, she’d vanished. A quick question revealed she’d just upped and left without even saying goodbye.
Deciding I wasn’t really up to making small talk, I escaped outside with my beer to a picnic table near the dock. Eric and Sgt. LaFramboise sat talking in the front seat of the nearby police cruiser. John-Joe’s orange cap glowed through its back window. I smiled at the thought of LaFramboise sitting clammy and sodden while the two people he was trying to arrest sat comfortably dry.
I looked for Gareth and found him beside his Porsche, gloating with Charlie. While Gareth had somehow managed to change into a dry set of Eddy Bauer chic, Charlie still dripped. The eagle feather hanging from his braid appeared to be the only item that had dried. Several of Charlie’s supporters were bailing out the green boat, while the guy with the eagle-shaved head was attempting to start the motor.
Overhead, a plane droned. I watched it land on the lake just off the shore from Three Deer Point. It taxied in the direction of Whispers Island, but it was lost from view when it disappeared behind the head of land that marks the beginning of Forgotten Bay. The far hills echoed with clamouring engines that sputtered and died, only to be replaced by the buzzing whine of boat motors.
Radio static made me look around to see Gareth walking towards the dock with his transmitter in hand. Charlie Cardinal squelched behind him. Gareth glanced in my direction, then as if making a decision, he headed towards me. I tensed and waited.
“You thought your little lobbying scheme with Carrie was going to work wonders,” he hissed into my face. “Well, I’ve got news for you. The Premier is about to announce a change in the Environment Ministry. Your man’s out, ours is in.”
Damn, he’d found out. “Don’t count your chickens yet,” I spat in return. Then, wondering if I could make him run, I said, “Your mineral rights deal is about to collapse.”
His body recoiled as if I’d hit a bull’s eye. “So you did find—” he blurted out, then stopped and glared at me. “Your claim can’t touch us,” he sneered. “Our leasing rights are solid.” And turned on his heels back towards Charlie’s boat.
Gotcha, I said to myself. I was right. Gareth was behind the break-in. But the irony was he thought I’d already found whatever he’d sent his henchman after. However, judging by his dismissive tone, it couldn’t be the deed to Whispers Island, otherwise he’d be sweating. Still, I’d better have it in my possession before Gareth discovered I was only bluffing and sent Charlie back in.
Deciding I’d better return home to continue my search through Aunt Aggie’s papers, I started for my boat. As I reached it, I heard Eric call out, “Gareth, go to your planes if you want, but your car’s parked on private property. If it’s not gone in five minutes, I’ll have it towed away.”
Atta boy, Eric, I said to myself, sock it to him.
I turned back to see Gareth waver, half in half out of Charlie’s boat. I knew Eric’s challenge was awfully tempting to him, but my bet was on the car. He took too much pride in it. He wouldn’t want to see it damaged. Charlie tried to claim that Gareth was his guest, but Eric refused to accept it. With a few quick words to Charlie, Gareth stalked over to his car and with an “up yours” gesture, he drove off.
Meanwhile, Charlie and a couple of his groupies clambered back into his boat and roared out of the bay towards Whispers Island, but not before I noticed a chainsaw blade sticking above the side of the boat.
I walked over to where Eric stood, looking tired. Beside him slouched a very subdued John-Joe, who seemed more
