trouble with winos sleeping under the trees in their backyard at night. Maybe he heard something and went out thinking he was rousting a wino and caught these guys instead.â
âIâd say they caught him,â replied Jack. âNothing left of his face. Whoever did him must have a hell of a temper.â
âThe perp had to be doused in blood,â commented Connie. âIâm not the blood-splatter expert, but if you noticed the splashes up the back of the house, I bet he was whacked at least half a dozen times.â She gestured to a cement construction brick lying in a puddle of bleach nearby and added, âIt was nice of them to leave the murder weapon behind.â
âWasnât so nice that they poured bleach over it afterward,â noted Jack. âAnything in here to give us a clue who they were?â
âNot that I could see, but take a look and be my guest,â replied Connie.
âA quick look,â replied Jack. âWe shouldnât be poking around in here without wearing hazmat suits. Letâs make this quick and get out.â
Jack saw a clean, square patch on the outside of a door leading to a separate room. Connie saw what he was looking at and said, âI told you they cleaned it out. Looks like they must have had a list or a picture or something on the door.â
Inside the room were several wooden benches and shelves, all with chemical stains and circular burn marks where bottles had dripped. Jack saw where acidic fumes had blackened some of the walls and ceiling. High on one wall a small exhaust fan had been left with its frame screwed into the wall. The fan was blackened with a dark film of dirt and covered a fist-sized circular hole leading to the outside. Toxic fumes had burned the rhododendrons outside.
âI was right,â said Jack. âThis was their kitchen.â
âKitchen?â replied Connie.
âNot for making pasta,â replied Jack, slowly gazing around the room. A small eyehole screw mounted in the corner of the room close to the ceiling caught his attention. His gaze followed the same height to a similar screw stuck in the wall above the door jamb. âYou see that?â asked Jack.
âCouple of screws?â asked Connie.
Jack examined the top of the door and pointed to several small holes in the wood. âThey had a switch mounted here,â he said.
âWhat are you talking about?â
âTrip wire,â replied Jack. This place was booby-trapped. Pretty common with labs. Nasty surprise for anyone wanting to rip the place off.â
âWhat about cops?â replied Connie angrily. âIâd have walked right into it.â
âDonât think they care about cops, either ⦠or nosy neighbours, for that matter. Some of these idiots donât realize they would get more time in jail for setting a booby trap than they do for the lab itself. Lucky for you they decided to take their stuff with them. Letâs get out of here. The fumes are really carcinogenic.â
âWhatâs the proper procedure now?â asked Connie.
âDrug Section has specially trained members to dismantle clandestine labs under the direction of a chemist. This has already been dismantled so I would call in a Health Inspector who will cordon off the building. The place may only need a really good cleaning or it could require renovations. As far as Forensics go, see what the Health Inspector says, but you may need to tell them to wear hazmat suits, as well.â
âWhat about the idiots making it? Donât the bad guys ââ
âSome take precautions or wear masks, but that is a far cry from the proper protection of a hazmat suit. If they stay at it, they end up with brains the size of walnuts or blow themselves up before they die of cancer.â
Connie nodded, but stopped to stare at Father Brownâs body. A ray of sunlight broke through the clouds and glistened off the crucifix
Mavis Gallant, Mordecai Richler